Espresso Keb and Oolong Erich Keb pulled away from her protective embrace. She’d hugged Erich instinctively, and now felt embarrassed. She attempted to shield him from the panicked emotions that flooded him when the ship’s systems failed, and...it had somehow worked. Now as he calmed down, she realized his team had all seen them in an intimate embrace. Keb had wanted to help him, as he’d helped her...but perhaps she had only made things worse. “Erich...I’m sorry. I--I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she said, though she was the one blushing. “I just...wanted to help you.” She wondered why she’d even thought she could help him. “When you grow up reading minds, the idea of embarrassment is meaningless.” Still, he was thankful she couldn’t read him. “I could have shoved you away.” He looked at the crew moving about Stellar Cartography, their silhouettes passing in front of lit consoles. “I think something is happening between us, perhaps on a chemical level.” Erich sensed her confusion and deepening self-consciousness. The dim light felt like a shield against prying eyes. “What do you mean--some kind of chemistry?” she asked quietly. “I was waiting to tell you, and after what happened earlier, I was not sure I’d ever tell you.” He turned away and then took a deep breath. “You have a very...open mind. It’s difficult not to hone in on your thoughts. It’s...intimate. I’m relaxed when I can hear your mind only, and I seem to have some calming influence on you as well. Your mind is an espresso in a galaxy of decaf.” He cringed at his own metaphor. “There must be a chemical reaction between us.” Keb’s discomfort increased as he further explained; she stepped away from him, protesting what he was saying though she’d experienced it herself. She wasn’t used to being an open book, or being somehow special. “I...I don’t know much about how Betazoid telepathy works,” she said, looking for a way to put her confusion in words. It was far more...diplomatic than where her thoughts were; it was one thing for him to read a moment of public shame, and quite another for him to know her most private thoughts. His eyes captured hers. “It normally doesn’t work this way. Your private thoughts should be just that, private. Look, you are very attached to this ship. I’ll put in for a transfer after this weather disaster passes us.” His heart fell into his stomach. “Wait, what?” she asked, shocked. “N-no, you--you shouldn’t have to leave just because of me.” He felt her dismay and walked past her, sitting against the rear wall of Stellar Cartography. It felt good to sit and talk even in the midst of the chaos. “I do not wish to leave, but I don’t want to make your life here more difficult.” Swallowing, Keb hesitated a moment before she sat next to him. “You haven’t made my life more difficult...you helped me just a couple hours ago when...you know. And whatever you did--I dunno, I just felt...lighter somehow. In a good way.” It was hard to put it into words, but Erich sensed how what he’d done made her feel closer to him and less isolated in her recovery. She should be angry over the mental violation but couldn’t bring herself to feel that way. And it wasn’t just that she didn’t want him to go on her account--it was that she would miss him. Erich looked at a spot on the ground in front of him. Her thoughts touched him. “That’s very nice of you. Not since leaving Betazed has anyone mentioned missing me.” Perhaps they could make coexisting on the ship work. He smiled as some thoughts from others filtered into his own, slipping through Keb’s tangled web of emotions. He laughed out loud at one of them, then looked up at her puzzled expression, hearing her question before she spoke. “Ensign Nosy over there thinks we should get a room. Someone’s getting a double shift.” He glanced around, wondering what her reaction would be. “Not the first thought like that I’ve heard.” Her cheeks glowed in the darkness. “I...was seen emerging from your quarters the other night. You know how gossip is on this ship.” “Gossip is second to only hydrogen as the most abundant element on a starship.” He smiled. “What’s done is done.” “I just don’t want it undermining your authority.” Or further undermining mine, if there’s any left. She bit her lip, curious. “Do...do they think we make a good couple?” she asked. “I do.” He hadn’t intended to let that slip, and hurried his next statement. “They think we are two dilithium crystals short of a matter/anti-matter reaction. So, yes. I’ve not sensed anyone thinking otherwise.” He mused for a moment. “I could send a poll to all crew asking that very question.” Keb looked alarmed until she realized he was teasing about the ship-wide poll. The notion of dating Erich hadn’t crossed her mind before; it felt strange at first, like tasting Klingon bloodwine for the first time. And yet the flavor of the idea had an appeal she couldn’t shake. “Bloodwine? That smarts,” he said playfully. “I’d like to think I’m more like Oolong tea, myself.” Realization dawned that he could hear her considering him, feel her appraising gaze from both sides. She buried her face in her hands. He changed his tone. “Seriously, you don’t have to feel ashamed around me. I’d be concerned if you blindly considered it.” He lied, a little. Seeing her embarrassed was an evil treat. Delicious emotions cascaded through her. She was amused, intrigued--and fearful of the sudden shift in their relationship. “We don’t have to jump straight to the reaction chamber, but let me buy you dinner when we get power back.” He wrapped his pinky finger around hers, a small gesture to break the ice. She curled her finger around his in acceptance. “Okay.”

Into Darkness A log something of Keb and Erich With the weather control system online and the engineering staff managing it, Erich and Keb headed toward their respective quarters for some desperately needed rest. The helm officer found herself walking down the same corridor as the engineering chief, half on purpose. She was worried about him; he still looked shaky. “What did that doctor give you?” she finally asked. "An inhibitor and anti-caffeine medication," Erich said as they walked down a nondescript corridor. "I can't feel anyone; the ship is empty. You,” he gazed upon her face. “You are different." A part of Keb disappeared. He heard her words, but their soul, the thoughts dancing alongside while she spoke...gone. Keb could not understand what his world twisted into. This was Keb’s reality he shuffled through now. A protracted moment passed before he spoke again. "You do not need to follow me around, Keb. I'm just in withdrawals. This is my own damn fault. I did not do myself what I ordered you to do. All I needed was a long nap." Erich could feel a sensation of shaking. Did it manifest itself to others? He did not know. He looked up before rounding a corner. Keb took his arm to steady him; he definitely did not look okay. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. I’ll sleep better knowing you made it to your quarters. Besides, mine are this direction anyway.” “Really?” he spoke under his breath. Erich squinted as if struggling to remember where he was. “I can’t believe that this idea worked.” Keb smiled, supporting him with her arm wrapped around his. “Hey, it did work, though,” she said in a soft voice. “Everyone on Earth is safe...well, safer. My family’s safe.” “Oh?” Erich perked up. “Where do they live? I can make sure the area is fine. Do they like telepaths?” Why did he ask that? Talk about putting the warp field before the ship. Keb squeezed his arm. “They’re in San Francisco,” she said. “Don’t worry about it now. We got that covered--Starfleet Command was a high priority area anyway.” She wondered about his question regarding telepaths. Sometimes her father had interesting ideas--though he was usually diplomatic about it. “My...father’s an ambassador,” she added after a moment. “Retired admiral.” Erich swallowed hard and coughed. “Admiral?” He looked at the numbers on the door. “Oh, here we are. My quarters.” He waved a hand as if it was the entrance to a grand palace. The door opened and remained so, even as he teetered slightly. “This is my stop I suppose.” Keb didn’t let go of him; in fact, she had to catch him as he wobbled just a little too far. Whatever they’d given him, between the drugs and the exhaustion, he was dead on his feet. “I...” he said as the medicine sedated him further. Something Dr. Scott warned him about. Suddenly Erich collapsed against her; he would have fallen to the floor if not for her support. She leaned against the door to support his weight, and adjusted her hold. “Erich?” she asked, scanning the room beyond to see how difficult it would be to get him to his bed. His accommodations were modest. Keb wondered if this was the broom closet. The bed sat against the far wall, straight ahead. “Mmm,” he murmured. “What happened?” His legs felt rubbery. Keb wasn’t sure how to answer, as she didn’t know. “Lean on me,” she ordered, pulling his arm around her shoulder and wrapping her arm around his back. “Just a couple steps.” Half carrying him like this, she managed to get him to the bed, where she helped him sit down; the effort was equally exhausting for her, and she sat down at the foot of the bed, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. He stared at her in confusion and smiled like it was the first time he laid eyes on her. He blinked. “Commander, what are you doing in my bed? I did not hear you enter.” His head bobbed a bit, his body caught between wake and sleep. “I’m not in your bed, I’m on your bed,” Keb said. “Get your boots off and lie down. You need it.” She closed her own eyes, not moving, using the wall for support. “How are you doing that, keeping your secrets from me?” He felt off his nacelle. Was he dreaming? he asked himself. His own mind did not realize the suppression it was under. “Keb...Kebbers, Kebberly...Uhm.” Erich awoke, his body delivering a parting shot of adrenaline . “I should remove my boots,” he said with a big smile. “Are you awake?” “I’m here,” Keb murmured, shifting slightly against the wall. She didn’t open her eyes; she was barely conscious and hadn’t heard most of his rambling as she’d been slipping in and out of microsleep for the past few moments. After some tugging one boot flew into the air, flipping end over end until it landed with a plop. A thud came from the far side of the bed from Erich’s head hitting his pillow. The world he once knew blackened in sight, sound, and thought. The exhausted engineer made an indistinguishable moan; a body so tired the mind could not get him comfortable. Meanwhile, the sounds had almost no effect on Keb, who had drifted off against the wall without meaning to. Both of them were completely asleep. *** When Keb finally woke up, she felt embarrassed to find herself still on the end of Erich’s bed, her hair mussed and matted from shifting against the wall. As she slipped out of his quarters to go to her own for a shower, she passed Ensign Tim Tam, and quickly turned her reddening cheeks away, counting in Klingon under her breath.

Chief Coffee Officer Joint log of Tesla Abbingdon and Erich Jaenke Great decisions are often made in the most unlikely places. Lawyers argue in the courtroom then reach life-changing compromises at the corner hot-dog stand. Corporate executives face off in the board room, then finalize mergers on the golf course. Political factions threaten each other around the table, then turn around and forge agreements in coffee shops. The difference in venue makes a difference in mindset, which in turn makes a difference in emotion and in the willingness to negotiate, or, in the case of Counselor Tesla Abbingdon, the willingness to share. For that reason she was a frequent visitor to Ten Forward, where the mindset tended to be more relaxed than in her office. Of course, times of day made a difference. In the evening when music was loud, karaoke was rampant, drinks flowed freely, and space came at a premium, the extroverts appeared. The lulls between breakfast and dinner or during mid-shift drew more introverts who kept to themselves, hid in corners, usually ignored other patrons by burying themselves in a book, a PADD, or by… hovering over several cups of steaming coffee? “Italian,” Erich uttered, pointing at a far cup. “Blonde? Latte...wait.” No amount of concentration would jolt his memory of these beverages. His drink of choice remained tea, even after getting over the bitterness of coffee. “Just what was that smell.” Again he spoke to himself, not caring if others heard. It helped him think through problems more complicated than priming recycling systems of starships. He brought a drink to his lip and drank. “Eww.” “Are you sure it isn’t French Roast Peruvian,” Tess suggested as she bent into his field of vision. “That’s it!” Everyone in the mess looked at the chief engineer as if he needed help. He only looked up at her. “Sorry, how did you know?” “It’s one of my favorite blends,” she confided, “along with Rich Azteka, which is quite difficult to come by nowadays. But if I can’t find that, I take Kona Dark. May I?” Tess gestured to the chair opposite. He greeted with a nod. “I don’t believe we have met. Chief Jaenke, Erich Chief Jaenke...I mean Chief Engineer Erich Jaenke.” Nothing like botching his own name and title. He put down the cup, embarrassed. The minds of the other quieted as he drew his attention towards her.. “Very nice to meet you, Chief Jaenke, Erich Chief Jaenke, Chief Engineer Erich Jaenke,” she said with a lighthearted smile. “I’m Counselor Abbingdon, Tesla Counselor Abbingdon,… oh, bother. Counselor Tesla Abbingdon.” she laughed. “We both need shorter names,” Erich retorted, returning the smile. “I figure my mental profile must have crossed your desk.” “Oh,” she waved it off, “they all do. But… if I may? That one cup you tasted?” She leaned forward to whisper. “It’s bitter because it was not properly roasted. I can tell from its smell.” He picked up the cup once more and sniffed. “I’m more of a tea drinker, but...wait. It was you. I was sensing your mind. That’s where I got the urge to search out that taste.” A minor horror crossed his mind. “I am so sorry. It’s bad etiquette to read someone’s mind without permission. I did not know it was yours.” “Oh, pish-posh. Sometimes it’s difficult to block things like that, especially when it comes to food and drink.” “I guess you know I’m the mind-reading engineer.” He slumped in his seat. “They call me the Warp Core Whisperer.” “Oh? Then you can even read the warp core?” Erich laughed out loud. “I wish. It only says if you don’t keep containment I’ll breach.” He looked past her. “I’ll take it over Staenky Jaenke.” “Staenky Jaenke? I’m sure there’s a story behind that one.” A half smile, half embarrassing expression. “The story was all around, the ship...literally. A noxious gas.” He shook his head. “I can’t imagine you want to hear.” “Well, as long as everything turned out alright.” “I came out smelling like a rose.” Erich realized the bad play on words. “Sorry. So,” he swallowed. “What did your report tell you about me?” He tried a random cup of coffee before they all went cold. Tess paused to allow the server access, thanked her, and waited until they were alone. “Well,” she said after a sip, “it told me you are Betazoid, very intelligent, and capable. It told me that you are sensitive, that you care very much about the welfare of your subordinates and the rest of the crew, and that you are well suited to your post in engineering. Is there something else I should know?” Who’s file was she reading? Must have been those thousand of questions on the psych profile form. “It should say he self-medicated for years so he’d not have to deal with his overactive debilitating ability. Also joined this ship in the menial engineering task of waste and recycling to avoid people only to be thrust into the Chief Engineer post far faster than imagined.” He stopped, wondering if he said too much. “Really.” The counselor’s expression didn’t change; she wasn’t surprised, she wasn’t amazed. In fact she seemed just interested. “And what kind of medication was this engineer taking?” “Loradril, a psilosynine inhibitor,” he shrugged. “In a sense it made me human.” “Human, as in not able to hear the noise from others’ thoughts?” Erich nodded as if in trouble in a principal’s office. “And did it work?” “Well,” he started. “It did. It really worked, but the prescription came through unofficial channels. But my source dried up.” “And what do you plan to do now?” “I’m asking a friend, or at least I think they may be a friend, for help. A fellow telepath.” For some reason he did not look her in the eye. Tess studied her cup for a while, then set it gently and precisely on the table, as though she were thinking. “Erich, what you have is called Hyperactive Paracortex Syndrome, and yes, I did read it in your file.” She looked up. “I must tell you that the drug you were using does work in the short term, but in the long term it can be debilitating. And by that I don’t mean addictive, I mean it can cause permanent damage to your cerebral cortex.” “Permanent damage?” He started to break down and placed his head in his hands. “I had no idea. What have I done to myself?” “Erich,” she put her hand in front of him to get his attention, “I said it can cause permanent damage. There is nothing in your medical file that indicates you have any cortical damage whatsoever. You are fine.” “However, I would like to propose that you allow me to do some research into other methods of control while your friend explores other avenues. Perhaps with two of us looking, something will surface that will help you even more than what you have tried before.” “Will you allow me to do that for you, Erich?” He went silent in contemplation and swirled his coffee around in a cup. “Sure. I have no wish of medication for, um, HPS? I just want to avoid sickbay.” The thought stopped him momentarily. ”If I’m ordered to see them, I guess I don’t have a choice. Anyway, I’m not sure T’Prise will be helping me. She was preoccupied and did not stay for dinner on Earth. It really distressed me. Oh, don’t tell her I told you that.” His face reddened. He should stop while he’s sliding back. “I would be grateful for anything you can do for me.”