Hear Ye!  Hear Ye!  Star Trek is owned by Paramount!
Star Traks is owned by me.  That is all.

Star Traks: Waystation
             That Sinking Feeling
				by Alan Decker


                             PROLOGUE

     Karyna held no regrets as she sped away from the Enrathi
 system.  Her visit there, as with all of her other travels across
 the reaches of space, was full of pleasure and many wonderful
 beings.  She could not feel sadness or sorrow for leaving them,
 however.  The types of serious attachments that led to such 
 feelings were something she avoided.  Pleasure, hedonism, 
 satisfaction: these were the driving forces of her existence.
  Concerns such as friendship had no place in that schema.
     Years ago, before Karyna discovered her true way, she was
 one of many acolytes on her home world trying to achieve 
 peace and enlightenment and other such garbage.  Her teacher, 
 a sage named Leximas, just oozed serenity, as did most of the
 other pupils.  Karyna's mind and body struggled to go another 
 way.  Leximas, realizing that her pupil would not, and possibly
 could not achieve the peace of others on their homeworld, sent 
Karyna away, out into the stars, to follow her own path.
     She had been exiled from her home, sent away to prevent her
 radical ideas about fun and pleasure from infecting others on 
her world.  From that day, Karyna traveled the galaxy, enjoying 
the best each world she encountered had to offer.  The only 
thought that clouded her hedonist existence was a desire for 
revenge.  One day, Leximas would see that her high and mighty 
serenity was not so wonderful.  There was power and freedom in 
living for pleasure. Leximas would see the light, and so would 
the rest of her  homeworld.
     On Enrathi, Karyna had heard rumors of a vast empire called 
the Federation spanning hundreds of worlds and races.  Such a 
place intrigued her.  The wonders they must have.  Such an 
opportunity could not be missed, so she set her ship on a course 
for the rumored border of this Federation.  In such a large and 
enlightened society, the pursuit of pure pleasure must be 
common.  She would find others like herself and greater joys 
than she could possibly imagine.
     Her thoughts of the joyous destination that awaited her were
 interrupted by an almost overwhelming psychic wave crashing 
through her mind.  Struggling to fight through it and clear her 
head, Karyna reached out with her mind to locate the source of 
such immense energy.
     There was a presence, quite clearly a presence, but it was 
unlike any she had encountered before.  This person, if such a 
powerful life force could even be described as such, was close 
by, but she could not ascertain where.
     Her ship's sensors only detected a small spatial anomaly a 
few thousand kilometers off to port.  Pink and purple gasses 
swirled within in it like a mini-nebula.  Without allowing 
Karyna to make a conscious decision of her own, the guide 
within her mind had her steer the ship directly into the nebula.
     Tendrils of gas from it seemed to reach out and surround the 
ship, forming a net.  Before the net could finish, Karyna put her 
engines to full and surged into the center of the anomaly.  
Suddenly, she and the  ship were engulfed in a bright flash of 
whiteness.
     She found herself standing in a universe of white.  Her body 
and clothing provided the only color.  There was no sky, no 
ground, no boundaries: only white.
     A man, dressed totally in black, stepped toward her out of the 
white.  He was thin with blond hair and an angular face.
     "Go away," he said simply.  Her mind was buffeted by more
 waves of power.  This was the entity she detected.  This person,
 if that's what he was, had more power in its body than she could
 possibly comprehend.
     "Who are you?" Karyna asked.
     "I might ask you the same, but I already know.  You are
 Karyna, an outcast, a loner, a nomad.  How sad.  Now leave."
     "If you truly knew me, you would know that I feel no 
sadness."
     "Classic denial."
     "You still have not answered my question?"
     "Why should I?  It wouldn't mean anything to you," the
 entity said.
     "But I would have something to call you during our
 conversation."
     "Look, Miss Karyna, I have been quite content to sit
 here disguised as that nebula for a good couple of millennia
 now.  What makes you think that I have any desire to talk to
 you?"
     "Because you're alone, like me.  And like me, you are
 alone of your own volition.  We are kindred spirits," Karyna
 replied.
     "You believe so."
     "I do.  So, why have you chosen to be this anomaly."
     "I grew tired of the universe.  My species was bickering
 amongst themselves, so I decided I'd had enough.  I went
 off to be alone with my thoughts."
     "Surely the universe must hold some pleasure for you."
     "Should it?  I could wipe it out with a wave of my hand,"
 the entity said.
     "But there are pleasures there that you could enjoy."
     "Like what?"
     "Like me," Karyna said, walking over to him and running
 her hand along the side of his face.  She could feel his energy
 crackling through her fingers.
     "You're very forward, Miss Karyna."
     "It's how I get what I want.  Now then, who are you?"
     "Well, my name is Q, but most people just call me Q."
     "It's a pleasure to meet you Q," Karyna said smiling.  "A
 great pleasure indeed."


Chapter One

     Bradley Dillon closed out the credit register of Dillon's
 Supply Depot whistling happily to himself.  Business was
 going well enough that he had decided to treat himself to a
 little vacation time.  Three days on the holodeck living out
 one of his biggest fantasies.  Now, all he needed was a traveling
 companion.
     Outside of his shop in the corridor of Starfleet Square
 Mall, Bradley noticed several security officers sneaking
 around and concealing themselves behind support beams,
 potted plants, and whatever else they could hide behind.
 Unconcerned, Bradley closed his register and turned off the
 shop's lights.

     Lieutenant Sean Russell, Waystation's chief of security
 monitored the action taking place in the small corridor from
 his temporary command post at the ice cream cart thirty yards
 away from their quarry.
     "Bishop to Russell.  We're in position," Russell's commbadge
 said softly.
     "Is he there?"
     "I don't see him," Ensign Bishop replied.
     "He's got to be there," Russell snapped.  This ambush was
 the culmination of a two week investigation of shoplifting
 incidents at the Klingon formal wear shop.  Tonight, Russell
 would get his thief, though.  The new shipment of dresses
 from the very fashionable Klingon designer Krilik would be 
 too big of a temptation for any respectable formal wear thief
 to pass up.
     "Still no movement inside," Bishop said.
     "There will be," Russell said.  "Just stay out of sight."

     Bradley pressed the door control of his shop and locked the
 place up tight.  A sign reading "Be Back In Three Days" hung
 on the door.  Bradley smiled to himself and, tightly gripping the
 package under his arm, walked down the corridor past the 
formal wear shop.  He had to hand it to Russell's security 
officers; they  had managed to hide themselves really well.  The 
only officer he could see was Russell far down the corridor 
towards Leximas' temple standing under the ice cream cart's 
cheesy umbrella.
     "Good luck, Lieutenant," Bradley said quietly as he walked
 past Russell and entered the alcove Leximas used for 
meditation.
     Leximas sat quietly, her legs crossed, hovering over the
 deep red carpet surrounded by a ring of candles, each of which
 hovered an inch or so above their candlesticks.
     "I will be with you shortly, Mister Dillon," Leximas said 
softly without looking at him.  That trick always unnerved him.  
It was like she was psychic or something.  Actually, she 
probably was psychic to some degree.
     One by one, the candles descended into their appropriate
 holders.  Suddenly, they all flashed a bright red and went out.
 Leximas turned in mid-air and floated over to Bradley.  She
 uncrossed her legs and put them down on the carpet.
     "May I ask what brings you by my place of contemplation?"
 Leximas said, clasping her hands in front of her.
     "I've come to give you a one of a kind opportunity," Bradley 
said.
     "I do not wish to buy anything," Leximas said, turning away
 from him.
     "And I don't want you to," Bradley replied.  Leximas turned
 back to him.  Bradley smiled inwardly knowing he'd aroused 
her curiosity.  "This is an opportunity of an entirely different 
sort."
     "I see.  You may continue."
     "Thank you.  I know that you have been endeavoring to learn
 more about us humans, so I've decided to help."
     "If what you have in mind is to teach me about your sexual
 practices, I must decline."
     "Leximas, I'm trying to be serious here.  If I wanted to ask
 you out, I'd just do it."
     "You do not wish me to purchase anything, and you are not
 trying to gain sexual gratification.  What then are you after?"
 Leximas asked.
     "I'm not a Ferengi for god's sake; I'm just after some 
company.  And you will get to learn a great deal about 
humanity.  We are shaped by our past, and I intend to take you 
with me to experience one of the pivotal moments in human 
history."
     "On the holodeck, I take it."
     "No, I've built a time machine.  Of course, it's on the 
holodeck, but it will be the best vacation you've ever had."
     Suddenly, they heard a loud shout from the corridor.
     "Oh my God!  The mannequin is moving!"
     "That's no mannequin!  We've got a dress on the go!"
     Down the corridor, a figure in a fabulous Krilik original
 dress burst out of the Klingon formal shop, a long, blood-red
 train trailing behind it.  Two security officers leapt from their
 hiding places and converged on the dress thief.  Once they were
 close enough, they jumped, attempting to tackle the thief.  An
 instant before impact, the thief grabbed both officers in mid-air
 and slammed them together.  Tossing their unconscious bodies 
to the floor, the thief kept running, heading straight for 
Lieutenant Russell's position.
     "Stop that dress!" Russell shouted.  No one responded.  His
 officers were frozen with fear, and the large figure in the dress
 was getting closer.  Realizing that he was going to have to 
handle this himself, Russell stepped out from behind the ice 
cream cart and aimed his phaser.
     "Halt!  You're under arrest," Russell shouted at the red veiled
 figure headed his way.  There was no response.  "Don't make 
me fire."  The figure kept coming.
     "You asked for it," Russell said.  Just as his finger pressed
 down on the firing trigger, the thief dove forward and rolled 
right under the phaser beam.  Russell gaped in astonishment as 
the figure completed the roll, fluidly stood back up and 
continued running past him.  Russell recovered enough to rip 
the veil off of the thief as the thief ran by him, revealing a very 
large, very angry looking Klingon male.
     The Klingon swatted Russell with his forearm, flipping the
 security chief back over the ice cream cart.  Russell hit the floor
 with a painful thud as the Klingon passed by.  Russell was able 
to reach out and grab the end of the train before the thief was 
completely out of reach.  It didn't even slow the Klingon down; 
Russell was yanked from behind the cart and dragged quickly 
behind the speeding Klingon.  Slowly, he started pulling himself 
up the train.
     
     "It seems that our intrepid law enforcement officers are
 experiencing difficulties," Leximas observed flatly.
     "What else is new?" Bradley replied.  He quickly reached
 behind Leximas and grabbed a candlestick off of a small table.  
     "They are doing their best," Leximas said, not noticing 
Bradley's movements.  Suddenly, he reached up and threw the 
candlestick past her head and out of the alcove.  It sailed 
through the corridor with the precision of a guided missile and 
slammed right into the Klingon's forehead.  The Klingon fell 
backwards unconscious and landed right on top of Lieutenant 
Russell.
     "I was unaware that you possessed such a skill, Mister 
Dillon," Leximas said.
     "Yeah, well.  It's not one of those things that comes up in
 conversation much.  So, are you going to come with me or not."
     "Just where is it that we are going?"
     "You and I will be taking a three-day cruise on the most 
luxurious ocean-going ship in the history of mankind."
     "Ocean-going...as in water."
     "Yes."
     "That will definitely be an experience.  I shall join you. 
 When should we meet?"
     "Be in the holodeck in an hour," Bradley said, heading for 
the entrance.  "You'll enter onto a dock.  Look for a ship called 
the Titanic."
     "Titanic.  That name should not be hard to remember."
     "Don't worry," Bradley said.  "It won't be."

                                 
     Q could not believe what was happening to him.  His whole
 being was becoming consumed with thoughts of this puny,
 corporeal being who had invaded his solitude.  Yet, he found
 her silver eyes captivated.  Her petite form was complemented
 by short-cropped black hair and ears that swept upward to 
gentle points.  In many societies she would be considered an elf 
or sprite or nymph, but to Q, Karyna was the most incredible 
being in the universe.  Her mind had reached out and connected 
with his, a joining that gave him something he thought he would 
never experience: pleasure.  Let the other Q go out and fight 
amongst themselves or pester little humans, Q had Karyna and 
that was all he would need for eternity.


Chapter Two

     "Chief Medical Officer's Log.  Stardate 50786.4.  After
 treating the accused-mall dress thief for a nasty blow to the
 head, I have released the suspect into Lieutenant Russell's
 hands.  Lieutenant Russell suffered only minor injuries from
 his run-in with the thief.
     On a personal note, I would like to thank Starfleet for this
 assignment.  I was promised that I would be given adequate
 time to study the Midon symbiont which now resides inside
 my body, and they have lived up to that promise.  Other than
 the occasional holodeck injury or other scrapes and bruises,
 Waystation is remarkably free of medical emergencies."

     Dr. Amedon Nelson switched off her log recorder and
 returned to the biomonitor chair Lieutenant Porter had
 constructed for her.  She could sit in the chair, which would
 perform various bioscans on her, the symbiont, and their
 combined interactions while still allowing her to sit up and
 write down her observations and direct the scans.  It was much
 easier to work this way than lying down.
     Nelson felt a brief wave of nausea wash over her then 
checked her chronometer.  It had been six hours since her last 
dose of unlogi, the chemical which allowed her body and that of 
Midon's to maintain their symbiosis.
     She climbed out of the chair and walked over to get her
 hypospray just as Lieutenant Russell walked into the infirmary.
     "Back so soon," Nelson said.  "What'd you do, prick your
 finger on the turbolift call button?"
     "Uh...no," Russell said, looking around.
     "Is there something I can do for you?"
     "You haven't seen a large, angry looking Klingon, have 
you?"
     "He wouldn't happen to match the description of the Klingon
 male I treated in here about ten minutes ago, would he?"
     "That possibility should not be ruled out."
     "You lost him!"
     "Yeah," Russell said, bowing his head.
     "You idiot!  Have you called security?"
     "I am security."
     "I meant your other officers."
     "I don't want them to know."
     "Of course not.  That would make you look foolish.  Maybe
 the nice Klingon will just go away and not let anyone know he
 escaped."
     "I doubt it," Russell said.
     "No kidding," Nelson said, grabbing her medical bag.  
"Come on.  Let's see if we can find this guy."  She pulled out her
 tricorder and set it to find Klingon lifesigns.
     "You owe me for this, Russell," Nelson mumbled.  "I had a
 whole afternoon of research planned."
     "Then this should be a fun diversion."
     "A walk on a beach at sunset would be a fun diversion; this
 is just plain annoying."
     "Doctor Nelson..."
     "What?" Nelson snapped.
     "Were you nicer before or after joining with Midon?"
     "Shut up!"

     Commander Lisa Beck watched as Kernok, the owner of the
 Klingon formal wear shop in Starfleet Square Mall, placed one
 of the dresses recovered from the thief back onto a bulky
 mannequin.
     "There.  Much better," Kernok said, stepping away from the
 dress.  "I would like to thank you, Commander, for your crew's
 excellent handling of this problem."
     "It was our pleasure," Commander Beck replied, all the while 
wondering how Klingons could stand dresses with metal 
shoulder pads sewn into them.
     "Please excuse me for a moment.  I must get another 
mannequin out of the back," Kernok said, heading for the rear of 
his shop.
     "Of course," Beck said, nodding courteously.  Just as Kernok 
disappeared into the back, Beck noticed some movement out of 
the corner of her eye.  Before she could turn to see what it was, a 
reddish blur from that direction leapt at her, grabbed her 
roughly and pressed a blade against her throat.
     "Utter a sound and you will die," a deep voice said from 
behind her.  The lace covered arm that held her gave Beck a 
sneaking suspicion that the dress thief had escaped.
     The thief practically carried her out into the corridor.  
Patrons enjoying the mall gasped and ran for cover as they saw 
the large Klingon holding Commander Beck hostage.
     Lieutenant Russell and Dr. Nelson ran into the area at about 
that time.
     "So much for no one finding out he escaped," Nelson said.
     "Commander Beck is not going to be happy about this."
     "You had just better hope that she survives long enough to be 
pissed at you," Nelson said, pushing her way through the crowd 
followed by Russell.
     "Don't move!" Russell ordered, aiming his phaser at the 
Klingon.
     "You cannot fire without risking your commander," the 
Klingon replied.  Russell glanced at Beck.  She looked madder 
than he had ever seen her.  The thought of letting the Klingon 
kill her so that she wouldn't kill him raced quickly through his 
mind.  There was no way he could do that, though.
     "There is no need to hurt anyone," Nelson said, becoming 
very serene.  "Perhaps we can discuss a credit plan so that you 
may pay for the lovely garment you have chosen."
     "It would have to be very low interest," the Klingon said.
     "Of course," Nelson replied.  She saw Kernok walking 
toward the front of his store.
     "Qolesh!" Kernok shouted, startling the Klingon. 
     "You know him?" Russell said.
     "He was my finest dressmaker many years ago," Kernok said.  
"But he became too attached to the merchandise."
     "Obviously," Nelson said.
     "Why, Qolesh?  Why?"
     "It is...pretty," Qolesh said.
     "Oh please," Beck said.
     "Silence!" Qolesh shouted, pressing the blade harder against 
her throat.  "Now let us pass."
     "What about our easy credit terms?" Nelson asked.
     "I do not think so," Qolesh said, pushing Beck forward.  
Beck finally saw her opportunity.  She slammed her heel into 
Qolesh's shin, then quickly grabbed the arm holding the knife 
and pulled it away from her.  Holding the arm in her left hand, 
she turned in to face Qolesh and smashed her elbow into his 
nose then raked her nails across his eyes.
     Howling in pain, Qolesh attempted to strike back.  Before he 
could swing, Beck jabbed her knee into the Klingon's crotch, 
sending him to his knees.  Then, she kicked him in the head, 
right where Bradley's candlestick had landed earlier.  Qolesh's 
world went blurry, then completely dark.
     The gathered crowd erupted into applause as Beck 
straightened her uniform.  She smiled, bowed graciously, and 
blew the crowd a kiss.  By the time she had turned back toward 
Russell, her face was pure rage.
     "Doctor Nelson, get this piece of trash to the infirmary and 
fix him up.  I think you'll find he's a little more damaged this 
time.  And you..."  She pointed at Russell.  "I want five security 
officers in the infirmary watching our cross-dressing friend.  
After that, he goes in the brig.  Got it."
     "Yes, ma'am," Russell said quickly, turning toward his 
office.
     "I'm not finished yet," Beck said.  Russell stopped and 
shuddered involuntarily.  So much for getting off easy.
     "Yes, ma'am?" Russell asked, his voice about three octaves 
higher than he would have liked it to be.
     "My office...Now!"
     "Yes, ma'am," Russell said, turning and heading toward the 
turbolift.
     "Should I prepare sickbay for another incoming patient?" 
Nelson asked as she and Beck watched Russell go.
     "There's not going to be enough of him left for that," Beck 
said.

     "I am afraid that I do not see the point of this program," 
Leximas said as she and Bradley strolled along the deck of the 
Titanic passing several lavishly-dressed couples.  Bradley had 
dressed for the occasion in a very dapper suit and hat.  Leximas, 
however, had thus far refused to change out of her meditation 
robes.
     "Relaxation, pure and simple," Bradley said.  "This ship was 
the paramount of luxury in its day.  It had everything from 
gymnasiums to ballrooms to saunas.  And look at the power!"  
He gazed up at one of the four mammoth smokestacks sending 
huge black plumes out into the atmosphere.
     "Lovely," Leximas said.  Bradley could almost swear it was 
sarcasm, although he'd never heard the mystic use that sort of 
humor.  He decided to let it pass.
     "We're only a few hours out of Southhampton.  We still have 
a couple of days left to enjoy.  Just let yourself go and get into 
the spirit of things."
     "How should I do that?"
     "Try to blend in a little.  Put on one of the gowns I picked out 
for you."
     "I do not think that a dress will distract these humans from 
noticing my pointed ears and silver eyes."
     "So, I'll tell the computer not to have the passengers notice."
     "Then, why not have them not notice my attire?" Leximas 
asked.
     "Because I'm noticing your attire, and it's distracting.  This is 
supposed to an English ship in 1912, not some Buddhist monk 
convention in Tibet."
     "Mister Dillon, have I ever told you that I find your continual 
use of reference points that I have no knowledge of to be 
extremely...how should I say this?"
     "Enlightening.  Educational."
     "No," Leximas said simply.  She fell silent and continued 
walking down the deck.  Bradley shook his head and followed 
after her.  She was turning out to be a much less enjoyable 
traveling companion than he had anticipated.  

     Russell was standing in Beck's office looking much like a 
child sent to the principal's office as Beck stepped out of the 
turbolift into ops.
     "Take it easy on him," Lieutenant Craig Porter said from the 
science/operations console.
     "No," Beck said.  She entered her office without another 
word.
     "Well, someone's a dead man," Porter said.
     "No kidding," Lieutenant Commander Walter Morales, 
Waystation's first officer, replied from his position 
at the docking control console.
     Beck didn't say a word to Russell as she walked into her 
office and sat down at her desk.  She just let him stand 
uncomfortably waiting for what was about to happen to him.
     "Ma'am..."
     "Did I say talk?" Beck snapped.
     "Well, no..."
     "Then shut up."
     "Yes, ma'am."  Russell stood in silence again.  Beck finally 
stood up and started pacing the office.
     "Do you have any idea how much I dislike almost being 
killed?"
     "Excuse me?" Russell asked.
     "You heard me?"
     "Uh...I don't know.  I guess you pretty much hate it."
     "Yes!  And I especially don't like almost being killed by a 
cross-dressing Klingon.  Do you realize how bad that would look 
on my service record?"
     "Pretty bad," Russell said, chuckling a little.
     "Damn right!  I should demote your ass right back down to 
ensign right now," Beck said.  Russell stopped chuckling.
     "Ma'am, I did not mean for Qolesh to escape."
     "Unfortunately for you, he did.  You had him in custody, and 
he was injured.  How incompetent do you have to be to let 
someone like that escape?"
     "With all due respect, I was injured as well," Russell said.
     "Then you should have had more officers assisting you.  
That's what they're there for."
     "Yes, ma'am.  I'm very sorry about everything."
     "Sorry!  You're sorry!  I almost died, you...you..."
     "Morales to Beck," the commsystem barked, interrupting her.
     "Beck here.  This is not the best time, Commander."
     "I know, but we just received a communication from the 
colony on Geranis Two.  They said that they were waiting for 
some official documents from you."
     "Sh**!  I never sent them their charter and defense 
agreement contracts."
     "Should I transmit them now?" Morales asked.
     "No.  We're going to have to do the diplomatic 'yes, you 
really mean something to us' crap," Beck replied.
     "I take it that this is going to require a personal visit to 
deliver the documents," Morales said.
     "How'd you guess?  Have a good trip, Commander."  Beck 
noticed Russell trying hard not to laugh.  "Something funny, 
Lieutenant?" Beck snapped.
     "With all due respect, ma'am, I guess I'm not the only one 
who's messed up his duties today.  And you're sending your 
subordinates to clean up after you."
     "Damn right," Beck said.  "That's the joy of being in 
command.  So is this: you're going too."
     "What?" Russell gasped, all humor draining from his face.  
"I don't want to go brownnose the leader of some dirtball colony 
world."
     "Me either, that's why I'm ordering you to go.  Have fun.  
You and Morales will leave immediately.  Dismissed."
     "Yes, ma'am," Russell said defeated as he turned to go.
     "Oh, Russell..."
     "Yes."
     "If you play your part well on Geranis Two, your job might 
still be here when you get back," Beck said.  Russell walked out 
without another word.
     Beck leaned back in her chair wondering if she had been a 
little too hard on Russell.  As she always did in this type of 
situation, she tried to think about what Captain Rydell, her 
commanding officer on the USS Secondprize would do.  Most 
likely, it would have been pretty much the same thing.  Of 
course, then he would follow it up with some kind of horrible 
practical joke to hammer the point home.  This trip to 
Geranis wasn't quite a joke, but it definitely was horrible.
     Having comforted herself that she was measuring up to the 
Rydell standard, Beck turned to the day to day business of 
running the station, not that it was all that thrilling.  Mountains 
of paperwork.  Endless drudgery.  Only occasionally did 
anything interesting happen.  She'd had these feelings for a 
while.  She thought she'd overcome them after getting kidnaped 
by the Multeks a little while back, but obviously she hadn't.  
     The fact was that life on a space station was boring.  At least 
on a starship she was constantly traveling.  On Waystation, she 
just sat there.  Plus, she had to run the place, handling discipline 
and dealing with Starfleet Command.  Beck had no problem 
with responsibility; it was just that this responsibility was no 
fun.  What happened to the adventure?  What happened to 
exploring and marveling in the wonders of the universe?  
Somehow, she never thought that a career in Starfleet would be 
this...dull.

     Karyna was not quite sure if she had a body anymore.  
Joining her mind to that of Q has caused her to lose almost all 
track of her physical form.  Occasionally, a sizzling jolt of pleasure 
would course through her body telling her it was still there, but 
for the most part, her mind was what was being stimulated.  Q 
had seen and done things she could not even comprehend.  He 
had time and space at his command.  As the projections from 
her mind intertwined with his, she felt more intense pleasure 
than she ever had before in both her mind and body.  Her mind 
guide called to her to regain control of herself, but Karyna let 
herself be swept away by Q's energy and power.  This was the 
ultimate hedonistic experience, and she was determined to ride 
it out to the end.


Chapter Three

     Lieutenant Russell finished leaving instructions with one of 
his subordinates and headed out of the security office in Starfleet 
Square Mall to go meet Lieutenant Commander Morales in the 
docking bay.  Russell was disgusted.  He didn't want to go on 
some stupid diplomatic chore.  So the Klingon got away 
from him and almost killed Commander Beck.  Big deal.  Beck 
lived and Qolesh was now safely in the brig.  One little mistake, 
and he was being punished this severely.  Captain Rydell never 
would have done that to him.
     Besides, he had plans tonight.  Big plans.  Ensign Krause 
had finally agreed to a romantic evening with him, and he was 
not about to pass that up.  There had to be another option. 
     Russell walked passed Yeoman Tina Jones's Liaison Office.  
The yeoman sat inside with her head resting in her hands 
staring blankly at the walls.  Noticing her condition, Russell 
ducked his head into the office.
     "Slow day?" Russell asked.
     "Yes," Jones replied.  "We haven't had a ship request 
permission to dock in the last two days.  Nobody 
told me that this liaisoning stuff would be this dull."
     "Want to get off the station for a while?"
     Jones immediately perked up and leapt out of her desk chair.
     "Could I?"
     "Well...I was supposed to go on an important diplomatic 
mission with Commander Morales, but I could probably 
convince him to let you go in my place...seeing as how you're so 
bored and all."
     "Oh, Sean, that would be wonderful.  I'd really appreciate it."
     "Gather your gear and get to the Docking Bay One.  Morales 
should be leaving soon."
     "Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you," Jones exclaimed 
happily.  She ran past Russell and headed off down the mall.
     "No.  Thank you," Russell said smiling to himself.  That took 
care of the boring diplomacy stuff.  Now, all he had to do was 
figure out a way to make sure Beck didn't kill him when she 
discovered that he passed the mission onto Jones.

     Commander Beck dashed forward and swung, catching the 
ball with her racket just before it bounced a second time.  The 
racquetball sailed back to the front wall as Beck leapt back out 
of Major Stephanie Hodges way.  Hodges returned Beck's shot 
with a vicious slam.  The blue ball hit the front wall, then, 
flying low to the floor, bounced three quick bounces.
     "Nice shot," Beck gasped.
     "Thanks," Hodges said.
     "That's what?  Fourteen to four?"
     "We can stop."
     "I'll never get better unless I keep at this."
     "Your call, Lisa," Hodges said to her friend.  She walked 
back up to the serving area and started another volley.  Beck 
returned the serve, but smacked full-force into the side wall in 
the process.  Shaking it off quickly, she waited for Hodges' 
return shot.
     "How's Russell?" Hodges asked.  Beck was having a hard 
enough time just keeping track of the speeding racquetball, 
much less try to hold a conversation.  Hodges made it all look so 
easy.
     "Fine...I guess," Beck said. "Why?"
     "So, you didn't kill him?"
     "No.  Thought about it.  But no.  Why are you interested in 
Sean?"
     "Colonel Lazlo mentioned him in our briefing this morning," 
Hodges said, scoring another point on Beck.  "That's game."
     "Let's go to 21," Beck said, determined to score a few more 
points.  Besides, she wanted to know why the head of the 
Federation Marine battalion on the station would have any 
interest in her security chief. 
     "It's your funeral," Hodges said, preparing another serve.
     "What did Lazlo have to say?" Beck asked.  Hodges hit the 
ball sending Beck diving to the left side of the court to return it.
     "Not much.  Just that Russell was incompetent and that a 
marine would be a better security chief," Hodges said.
     "Huh.  Interesting."
     "Interesting?" Hodges surprise at Beck's nonchalant reply 
caused her to miss returning Beck's shot.
     "My serve," Beck said, walking past Hodges.
     "What do you mean interesting?  Aren't you going to yell and 
scream about Lazlo trying to take over the station again?"
     "No."  Beck served the ball.  Hodges didn't even move to stop 
it.
     "Five serving fifteen.  Pay attention to the game."
     "You're actually thinking about it!"
     "I'm serving again."  Beck hit the ball.  Hodges hit the ball 
back into the corner, killing its momentum.  Beck didn't even 
have a chance to move toward it.
     "You can't be serious," Hodges said.
     "A marine might make a good security chief.  They 
understand discipline and tactics.  They're fiercely 
loyal..."
     "Yeah, to Martin Lazlo."
     "And they'd never let anyone compromise the safety and 
security of this station."
     "Just think through this carefully before you do anything 
crazy."
     "Don't worry, Steph.  Russell's job is safe as long as he 
doesn't do anything really stupid before I'm through being mad 
at him.  Now, serve."

     The runabout Cumberland was all set to depart in 
Commander Walter Morales's expert opinion.  All that 
was missing was his traveling companion.  In answer to his 
thoughts, the doors to Docking Hanger One opened and Yeoman 
Tina Jones bounded in enthusiastically.  This was not who 
Morales was expecting.
     "Where's Russell?" Morales asked, ducking his head out of 
the runabout hatch.
     "I've been assigned to go instead," Jones said.
     "Fine with me," Morales said.  The important thing was that 
he had somebody to talk to on this boring diplomatic chore.  
Jones would probably be better at sucking up to offended colony 
leaders than Russell anyway.  "The pre-flight's all done.  We're 
all set."
     "All right!  I'm getting off the station.  I'm getting off the 
station," Jones said happily as she ran into the runabout.
     "I think you've severely overestimated the entertainment 
value of this trip," Morales said taking a seat in the pilot's chair.
     "I don't care.  It's still something different."
     "Glad you're looking forward to it."

     The mall was pretty much bustling with activity when 
Lieutenant Porter exited the turbolift onto that level.  Of course, 
most of the occupants were station personnel.  A new ship had 
docked an hour ago, but it was just a small freighter.  The odd 
thing was that Yeoman Jones, who usual greeted new ships, was 
nowhere in sight.
     Porter spotted Sean Russell coming out of the Galactic 
Delights Gift Shop carrying a small black box.  He walked over 
to the security chief.
     "Did you miss your flight?" Porter asked.
     "What?"
     "The Cumberland left hours ago.  I thought you were 
supposed to be on it."
     "Oh that.  I sent Jones instead."
     "Commander Beck is not going to like that."
     "I don't see any reason I should have to go on some stupid 
trip when I'm needed here," Russell said.
     "Needed?  Everything's quiet."
     "Not for long.  I'm needed in Ensign Krause's quarters in five 
minutes with this," Russell said, holding up the box.
     "What's in there?  No.  Never mind.  I don't want to know," 
Porter said.  "You just make sure she's not late for her shift 
tomorrow morning, young man."
     "I'll have her home before curfew," Russell replied smiling.  
"Now, if you'll excuse me, paradise awaits."  Russell bowed 
dramatically and raced off toward the turbolift.
     "He's a dead man," Porter said, continuing on his to his 
intended destination.
     Porter entered the infirmary a few minutes later and found it 
practically deserted.  Nurse Wendy Kendall sat at the front desk 
watching some holovision film.  Obviously, things were quiet on 
the medical front.
     "Is Doctor Nelson here?" Porter asked, trying to control the 
growing feeling of nervousness in his gut.
     "Yeah," Kendall said.  "Check the lab.  She's playing with 
the slug."
     "Thanks."  Porter headed back into the lab area where 
Nelson was performing tests on the symbiont in her belly.
     "Whatever it is, the answer's no," Nelson said as Porter 
entered.  "I already helped Russell out.  That was my good deed 
for this millennium."
     "I don't need anything like that," Porter said.
     "Then, can this wait, Craig?  I'm busy."
     "I...I just wanted to see what you were doing for dinner 
tonight."
     Nelson stopped her scan and looked up at him.  He looked so 
serious, much more serious than she'd ever seen him behave 
before.
     "Are you asking me out?" Nelson said.
     "Well...yeah."
     Nelson laughed.  Not exactly the reaction Porter had been 
hoping for.
     "Ooh, way to make a guy feel wanted," Porter quipped.
     "I'm sorry, Craig.  I just wasn't expecting that."
     "It's just dinner."
     "I'm flattered, really, but..."
     "But you don't think of me in that way, and you've got plans 
with your slug," Porter said, seeing very quickly where this was 
going.
     "That's pretty much it."
     "Thanks anyway.  Sorry I bothered you."  Porter turned and 
headed toward the door.
     "If you're looking for company, why don't you ask Ensign 
Krause," Nelson called after him.  "She's seems very nice."
     "And taken," Porter said, walking out of the room.

     Yeoman Jones's mind screamed a silent prayer for the torture 
to end.  Upon their arrival at Geranis Two, Jones and Lieutenant 
Commander Morales had been taken directly to the colony 
administrator's office for the charter signing and a lot of 
pointless speeches.  That was the high point.  What came after 
that was a seemingly never-ending series of introductions and 
discussions of the colony's place in the Federation, etc.
     Now, they were touring the colony's power facility.  Morales 
was managing to keep himself distracted by talking to whoever 
would listen about his shuttle pilot experiences.  It wasn't 
bragging, more like a defense mechanism against the abyss of 
boredom surrounding them.
     Jones glanced around like a caged animal.  She had to 
escape.  The hell with diplomacy.  If she had to look at one more 
reactor, she was going to go insane.  Who cared about power 
output and efficiency and...She couldn't take it anymore.
     "AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Jones screamed to the sky.
     "Something wrong, Yeoman?" Morales asked pointedly.  He 
had a pretty good idea what it was, but they were on a mission.  
Personal pain would just have to wait.
     "I thought I saw a bug," she said quickly.
      "No matter," the colony administrator said.  "Now, let's 
move on to the number six reactor chamber."
     Jones tried to calm herself.  She would not hurt anyone.  She 
would not hurt anyone.  She would not hurt anyone.
     But, boy would it make her feel better. 

     In the holodeck, darkness surrounded the R.M.S. Titanic as 
she cut through the North Atlantic on her voyage into history.  
Inside the first class ballroom, vibrant waltz music filled the air, 
moving many of the rich and powerful passengers to dance.  At 
a table in one corner, Leximas sat watching the activity with 
an air of interested detachment.  Bradley Dillon pushed an olive 
around his empty martini glass and hummed along to the music.  
He was on his fourth martini, but somehow they weren't 
improving his mood.  This was definitely not the vacation he 
had hoped for.  He might as well have brought along a 
Vulcan.
     "I take it that you are not enjoying yourself," Leximas said, 
noticing her companion's activity.
     "Me?  I'm having a blast.  I've almost pushed this olive 
around the glass one hundred and fifty times."
     "Why do you not get up and dance then?"
     "With who?" Bradley said.  "The women in here are the 
wives of the most powerful men in the industrialized world."
     "I see.  Perhaps we should go then," Leximas said, standing 
up.
     "You go," Bradley said.  "I'm going to get a bit drunker 
first."  He raised his hand to flag down a waiter.
     "I do not believe that you will find holographic alcohol to be 
that intoxicating."
     "We'll see," Bradley replied.
     "As you wish."  Leximas turned and moved toward the door.  
In her meditation robes, she almost appeared to be floating 
rather than walking.  Actually, Bradley wouldn't have been 
surprised if she was floating.
     The waiter set down another drink in front of Bradley.
"May I get you anything else, sir?" the waiter asked.
     "A new companion," Bradley mumbled.
     "Excuse my frankness, sir, but your companion was dressed 
quite strangely."
     "Her robes are the most normal part about her," Bradley said.
     "Indeed.  Well, just let me know if there us anything else I 
can do."
     "Thanks, but I doubt it."  Bradley sipped on his fifth martini 
and watched the couples spinning around the floor.  
     Several minutes later, he saw the ballroom doors open again.  
A woman in a floor length, glittering gown stepped into the 
room.  Only the pointed ears and silver eyes gave away the 
dress-wearer's true identity.
     Bradley stood up as she approached.  He was too stunned to 
speak.  The tune the band was playing finished and they 
launched into a tango number.
     "May I interest you in a dance, Mister Dillon?" Leximas said, 
extending her small hand toward Bradley.
     "Yeah...I mean, most definitely, madam," Bradley said, 
taking her hand and bowing slightly.  He led her onto the dance 
floor and pulled her close to begin the tango.  Surprisingly, she 
seemed to know every step, every move he was going to make.  
They moved as a unified whole, dominating the ballroom floor 
as they danced across it.  Gradually, couples stopped to watch as 
Bradley and Leximas continued their graceful, yet passionate 
motions.
     As the tango came to an end, the gathered crowd began to 
applaud, but Bradley didn't hear them.  He turned to his partner 
and bowed again.
     "Thank you," he said.  "That meant more to me that you can 
guess."
     "I do not need to guess, Mister Dillon.  I know."

     Karyna still felt resistance from Q.  There was some part of 
his being that he would still not share with her: a great, 
powerful part.  Karyna, exhausted yet exhilarated from their 
joining, pushed forward with her mind, pressing against the 
barriers to the core of Q.
     
     He couldn't believe it.  He was really going to let her in.  Into 
the essence of Q.  He felt that Karyna's remarkable soul would 
be strong enough for what was to come, but if she wasn't...  That 
was too horrible to contemplate.  She was a part of him now.  Q 
could not bear to lose her.  Still, he must risk it in order to truly 
enjoy this union to the fullest.  Slowly, carefully, he began to 
relax the barriers to the core Q-ness of the Q.


Chapter Four

     Lieutenant Craig Porter yawned loudly as he stepped out of 
the turbolift into ops to start another glorious day of feeling 
sorry for himself.  How could Nelson have brushed him off so 
callously?  He'd saved her life a few months ago.  Didn't she at 
least owe him dinner?
     "Exciting night, sir?" Lieutenant J.G. Peter Mazzone asked 
from the science console.
     "Oh yeah.  I went to my quarters, read for three hours, and 
fell asleep.  It was a thrill a minute."
     "Sorry."
     "What the hell are you apologizing for?  It's not your fault 
that I have no social life."
     "Uh..."
     "Don't even try to say something comforting.  What's been 
going on up here?"
     "Not a thing, sir."
     "Then, you're relieved.  Go have a nice day."
     "Yes, sir.  I have a date...oh, sorry."
     "Let's try and jab that knife in a little deeper next time, 
Mazzone."
     "Sorry, sir."
     "Bye, Mazzone."
     "Yes, sir."  Mazzone practically ran into the turbolift to get 
out of ops.  Porter sat down at his console and checked the 
readouts.  Everything seemed to be in order.  He glanced over at 
the tactical console and saw Ensign Stanton, one of Russell's 
deputy's asleep and drooling.
     "Red Alert!" Porter screamed suddenly.  Stanton shot up and 
looked around like a frightened deer.
     "Wha...who..."
     "Calm down, Ensign," Porter said.  "I hope I didn't interrupt 
your nap."
     "Sorry, sir."
     "Don't apologize.  If one more person apologizes to me today, 
I'm going to kill them."
     "I'm sorry to hear that, Craig," Commander Beck said 
smiling as she stepped out of her office.
     "Commanding officers excepted, of course," Porter said.
     "Of course," Beck replied.  "What's got you in such a lovely 
mood this fine morning, Craig?"
     "What are you doing up here this early?" Porter asked 
dodging the question.  "Shouldn't you be asleep or something?"
     "Yeah, but I was meeting Colonel Lazlo for breakfast," Beck 
replied deciding not to push Porter.  She'd corner him later 
about what was bugging him.  After three years of friendship, 
she should be able to pull it out of him.
     "Lazlo?  What does he want?"
     "More room for his marines.  Fewer restrictions on his 
marines.  Me to resign and give him control of the station.  The 
usual stuff."
     "And you agreed to meet him to listen to this?"
     "Hey, he was buying.  Besides, he's funny when he's angry.  
His cheeks get all red and that mustache starts vibrating like an 
epileptic chipmunk."
     "I'll have to find some reason to piss him off, just for the hell 
of it," Porter said.
     "Sorry to rush off, but breakfast awaits and I left something 
in my quarters," Beck said.  "See you in a while."
     "I take it I have ops," Porter said as Beck stepped into the 
turbolift.
     "Keep it in good health," Beck said.  "Oh, let me know as 
soon as Morales and Russell get back from Geranis."  
Fortunately, the turbolift doors closed before Porter could tell 
her about Russell's current location.  He didn't want to rat on his 
friend, but this concealing information from a senior officer was 
messy stuff.

     Colonel Martin Lazlo checked his wrist chronometer as he 
sat down at a table in the Andorian restaurant in Starfleet 
Square Mall.  Commander Beck was due to meet with him in 
four minutes.  She would be late, of course.  Starfleet had no 
respect for punctuality.  The time he spent waiting would be 
helpful, though.  He had a battle strategy to work out against a 
formidable adversary: Commander Beck.

     The gentle hum of the engines woke Bradley Dillon up.  He 
opened his eyes a little and was blinded by the sunlight pouring 
in through his stateroom window.  Suddenly, his head informed 
him that last night's drinking had not gone unnoticed.  That was 
the last time he'd program the holodeck to produce real 
alcohol.
     Groaning, Bradley rolled to the edge of the bed and searched 
for the floor.  The rocking of the Titanic on the ocean was all 
but imperceptible to the normal person, but Bradley's hangover-
sharpened senses felt every movement.
     He found the floor.  This was an accomplishment.  Slowly, 
he crawled toward the bathroom to find a nice cool spot to curl 
up and die.
     Bradley crawled into the middle of a bizarre shadow covering 
part of his floor.  It seemed awfully out of place.  Curiosity 
getting the better of him, he looked up to see what was causing 
it and immediately wished he hadn't.
     Leximas was floating serenely above him wearing absolutely 
nothing.
     "Oh my God," Bradley whispered. 
     Leximas opened her eyes from her meditation and glanced 
down at him.  A faint smile crossed her lips.
     "I take it you are paying the price for your overindulgence 
last evening," the guru said.
     "Uh huh," Bradley said nodding.  Moving his head like that 
almost made him throw up.  "Leximas, about last night.  I had 
no idea we were...that we..."
     "That we what?"
     "Slept together."
     "You needed someone to stay with you, Mister Dillon.  After 
our dances, the alcohol hit you rather hard.  I seemed 
appropriate for me to sleep in here to monitor you."
     "But the sex..."
     "What sex?"
     "We had...didn't we?  I mean, you're naked!"
     "I found the evening gown to be too confining for meditation, 
so I removed it.  Does my nakedness make you uncomfortable?"
     "Uh...no.  I just thought that we..."
     "Engaged in intercourse.  No.  My apologies to your ego, but 
we did nothing of the kind."
     "It was a great evening anyway," Bradley said. "Very 
wonderful.  I would have hated for some stupid 
drunken escapade to screw it up."
     "Then you are happy we did not have sex?"
     "Yes.  Very.  It would have spoiled the fantasy."
     "Once again, you have surprised me, Mister Dillon.  You are 
not the man I thought you to be," Leximas said, floating down to 
the floor beside him.
     "I hope that's a good thing."
     "Most definitely.  I was wrong about you, and since I am 
somewhat to blame for your current condition, I will assist you."
     "How will you..."  Bradley was unable to finish the question.  
Leximas placed her hands on the sides of his head and closed 
her eyes.  Bradley's mind seemed to explode with energy, but 
rather than pain, he just felt exhilaration.  He gasped deeply, 
overwhelmed by the energy running through him.
     "There.  That should help you."
     Bradley took stock of himself.  Everything was still there, 
and, best of all, his hangover was completely gone.  He looked at 
Leximas in amazement.
     "Wow!  That was incredible!"
     "That was basic.  I do not believe you could handle 
incredible," Leximas said with an enigmatic smile.  
     Suddenly, a cold blast of dread washed over her.  She stood 
up quickly and let her mind-guide speak to her.  Something was 
happening, the effects of which would reach her soon.  Should 
she leave the holodeck?  Her mind-guide did not feel it would be 
wise.  This was where she should stay.  Bradley Dillon's 
assistance may be required.
     "Are you okay?" Bradley asked.
     "Yes," Leximas replied.  She would inform Bradley of her 
premonition if it became necessary.  Until then, she would let 
him enjoy his vacation and try to enjoy it as well.

     Beck strolled out of her quarters with her bag of Fodri 
equipment.  Stephanie Hodges may have been able to kick her 
ass in racquetball, but Beck was pretty sure Hodges had never 
even heard of Fodri.  Beck had picked up the sport from her 
roommate at the Academy, an Andorian who also gave Beck her 
love of Andorian cuisine.  Steph wouldn't know what hit her.
     She walked into the turbolift and gave it her destination.  
Lazlo would probably be all worked up about her being late to 
breakfast, but who cared.  He could wait a little bit.  It'd be good 
for him.
     The turbolift stopped at the next deck and opened up.  Beck 
was so preoccupied with her Fodri strategy, she almost didn't 
notice the officer waiting for the lift.
     "I'll get the next car," Lieutenant Russell said, and retreated 
down the hall.
     "Get back here!" Beck shouted, wedging her equipment bag 
in the closing turbolift doors.  Russell sheepishly returned to the 
turbolift.  Beck grabbed him by the collar and yanked him 
inside, kicking her bag in at the same time.
     "Computer, hold lift," Beck ordered.  Russell was trapped in 
the small turbolift alone with his very angry commanding 
officer.
     "Good morning, Commander," Russell said, forcing a smile.  
"How are you doing today?"
     "I'm confused, Sean.  I just can't figure out how my security 
chief could be two places at once.  I mean, you're on your way 
back from Geranis Two right now."
     "Absolutely.  I must just be a hallucination."
     "Let's find out," Beck said.  She smacked Russell upside the 
head.  "Nope.  You seem real to me."
     "I can explain..."  Keeping that date with Ensign Krause 
suddenly did not seem to be worth it.
     "No, you can't.  Why bother trying?  Resume lift."  The 
turbolift started its ascent toward the upper saucer.
     "Commander, I..."
     "Shut the hell up, Russell," Beck snapped.  "I just cannot 
believe that you would flat out disobey a direct order like this."
     "I'm sorry."
     "Right."  The lift slowed to a stop at Starfleet Square Mall 
and Beck stepped out into the corridor.  "You've got twelve 
hours."
     "Twelve hours?  For what?" Russell asked.
     "Until I want you off this station," Beck said. "You're 
finished here, Russell.  Starfleet can find somewhere else to let 
you screw up."
     The turbolift doors closed leaving Russell alone in stunned 
silence.

     Colonel Lazlo spotted Beck as soon as she entered the 
restaurant.  This may be more of a fight than he'd originally 
thought.  Beck looked incredibly pissed off.  She stormed up to 
the table, but didn't sit down.
     "You want a marine for security chief?" Beck demanded.  Uh 
oh, she'd somehow heard what he was going to ask for.  Damn 
that Hodges.
     "Uh..."
     "Fine.  You're hired.  Be in ops in two hours," Beck snapped.  
She left as quickly as she had come.
     Lazlo looked down at his cup of coffee and stirred it 
thoughtfully.  He just won the battle, but it felt like he'd done it 
on her terms.  Not exactly the victory he'd been hoping for, but 
he'd take it.

     Karyna was gone, overwhelmed by the immense power 
running through, past, beyond, around, over, ahead, behind, 
over the river and through the woods...oops.  Sorry about that.  
Anyway, she was feeling the rush to end all rushes.  The energy 
of the cosmos was a part of her now; it was her.  She was 
energy.  Q was with her, connected so closely as to almost be a 
part of her.
     "What do you think?" he asked.
     "Incredible," Karyna managed to gasp.  "Now, it's my turn."  
She reached out with the last part of herself she'd been holding 
back from Q.
     Their essences intertwined one more time...
     And both were changed.


Chapter Five

     "Never again," Yeoman Jones muttered as she walked into 
the runabout cockpit rubbing her temples.
     "Rough night?" Lieutenant Commander Morales asked from 
the pilot's chair.
     "The night was fine," Jones said, taking a seat beside 
Morales.  "This morning has been hell."
     "Hangovers will do that do you," Morales said.
     "I've never had real alcohol before.  I always stuck to 
synthehol."
     "Obviously."
     "But I had to drink something.  I had to get away from their 
incessant yammering.  I have never been to a more boring place
 since my family's colony."
     "So, instead you went to alcho-ville, and now you're paying 
for it."
     "It's worth every ache.  I had fun last night," Jones said.
     "I kind of got that impression.  I had no idea you liked 
Klingon Opera."
     "Klingon opera?"
     "You grabbed the colony administrator and serenaded him 
with the aria from act three of Kahless' Glory.  Not a bad 
rendition either, although accompanying yourself with a 
pot and spoon  was a bit...experimental."
     "Please tell me you're joking."
     "Don't you wish."
     "Oh god."
     "Hey, the administrator seemed to enjoy it.  His wife on the 
other..."
     The runabout cabin suddenly blazed blindingly from a flash 
of searing light.
     "My eyes!" Jones screamed, falling out of her chair to shield 
herself.
     "What the hell?"
     "Make it stop!  Oh, the pain!  The pain!"  Gradually, the 
light began to fade, dimming the runabout.
     "Are you alright?"
     "Too bright.  Head pounding.  I'm hurting."
     "That's just the damn hangover," Morales snapped.  "You 
scared me to death."  He turned back to the sensors.  "We're
 fried," he said finally.  "Everything's been overloaded."
     "What was it?"
     "Did you miss the part about everything's been overloaded?"
     "Sorry," Jones said, pulling herself back into her chair.  
Morales headed to the back of the cockpit and checked the
 engineering panel.
     "We're adrift."
     "Life support?"
     "Gone with everything else."
     "The one day I actually feel like dying, and the universe 
decides to take me up on my offer."
     "Oh no, you're not getting off that easy," Morales said.
     "You've got an idea?"
     "Jones, I know these ships inside and out.  Shuttles and 
runabouts have been my life since I got out of the academy.
 I can fix this ship as long as there's enough undamaged transfer
 units, conduits, and cable strands.  Get up, grab an engineering
 kit, and tear this ship apart until you've found those strands!"

     "Goodbye, Q.  It's been fun," Karyna said once she had 
recovered from the blast caused by their final joining.
     "Fun!  You can't leave.  I've given you everything.  You're a 
part of me now."
     "Come on, Q.  Surely, you see that is not true.  We shared a 
remarkable experience, but now I must move on."  With her 
new-found abilities given her by Q, Karyna was able to reach
 out across the universe looking for the cause of her exile.     
     Surprisingly, Leximas was not on the homeworld.  She
 was much closer, on a space station.  Interesting.  Karyna
 would have to ask Leximas why just before she exiled Leximas
 from existence.
     "But, Karyna, I...enjoy you."
     "And I have no further use for you.  You really are too 
powerful to want petty little attachments to other beings.  Think
 of the fun you could have roaming the galaxy."
     "I don't want to."
     "But I do.  I just have a little business to attend to first."  At 
that, she was gone.  Q looked around at the emptiness surrounding
 him and wept.  The universe, which had seemed so lonely before
 Karyna came, was now all but intolerable.

     Lieutenant Russell gave his uniform a tug to straighten it as 
the turbolift slowed to a halt at ops.  He'd given Commander Beck
 a couple of hours to calm down and think things through.  Surely,
 she'd come to her senses by now.
     He stepped out into ops and looked around for Beck.  
Lieutenant Porter was working at his science console, but the
 commander was nowhere in sight.
     "What are you doing up here?" Porter said softly.  "If she 
sees you, you're dead."
     "Where is she?"
     "In her office," Porter replied.  Porter's panel started beeping 
and flashing wildly.  "Oh hell."
     "What is it?" Russell asked, racing over to tactical.
     "Long range sensors just detected a massive, and I'm not 
using that word lightly, energy surge," Porter said.
     "I'm not seeing any ships nearby.  Could that be natural?"
     "If it is, I don't know what could have caused it.  There's 
nothing out there but a tiny nebula."
     "And you don't use the word tiny lightly."
     "Stop horning in on my area.  Sarcasm is my department."
     "Sorry."
     "Porter to Beck."
     "I'm in a meeting, Lieutenant.  This had better be important."
     "That depends.  Do you consider a really big blast of energy 
important?" Porter said.
     "I'm not in the mood, Craig," Beck said.
     "And something's heading right at us."
     Commander Beck walked out of her office a moment later 
followed by Colonel Lazlo.  Her eyes locked on Russell.
     "You're not authorized to be up here, Lieutenant," Beck said 
coldly.
     "Ma'am?" Russell said confused.  She wasn't still upset was 
she? 
     "Get out."
     "But I'm the security chief."
     "Not  anymore," Lazlo said, stepping forward.  "A marine 
now holds that spot, as it should be."
     "Don't push it, Lazlo," Beck said.
     "Him?  Are you serious?" Russell asked, a smile spreading 
across his face.  "I get it.  This is a joke to get back at me.  Ha ha.
You got me.  I'm sorry I didn't go with Commander Morales.  You
 win."
     "May I?" Lazlo asked, gesturing toward Russell.
     "Well, normally I'd say no," Beck replied.  "But since you 
actually asked permission this time, go ahead."
     "Thank you."  Lazlo grabbed Russell and threw him bodily 
toward the turbolift.  "That's as gentle as I get, Mister," Lazlo said.
     "Save it for your dates," Russell snapped, picking himself up.  
"Oh wait, you never get any."
     "Russell, leave," Beck said.  "And you're down to ten hours.  
I suggest you make those travel plans."
     In shock and disbelief, Russell stepped into the turbolift and 
left ops.  Beck walked over to Porter's console as Lazlo checked tactical.
     "What was that about something coming toward us?" Beck 
asked.
     "Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?" Porter 
said.  "He screwed up.  We all do it."
     "True, but he makes screwing up a way of life.  And I really 
don't take well to having my orders downright ignored."
     "But Sean..."
     "...needs to wake up and figure out he's a Starfleet officer," 
Beck said.  "I know he's your friend.  He's mine too, but we aren't
 helping him any by coddling him every time he screws up.  Odds
 are we aren't going to be serving together forever.  Sooner or later,
 he's bound to come across somebody who won't put up with him.
  Maybe I can teach him that lesson before it's too late."
     "Tough job."
     "That's why I get the extra pips."
     "Excuse me, but isn't the current threat a bit more important 
than Sean Russell's life lessons?" Lazlo said testily.  "This caring
 about each other crap is just how you Starfleet types end up so
 soft and lazy."
     "I'm going to ignore that comment, Colonel...for now," Beck 
said.  "Just remember that you can also be replaced.  Go ahead, Craig."
     Porter outlined the energy surge he detected and the 
approaching object.
     "How long until whatever it is gets here?" Beck asked.
     "About ten minutes," Porter replied.
     "Ten minutes!  And how much time did you just waste over 
Russell?" Lazlo said.
     "Shut up!" Beck said.
     "We have to launch a runabout right now and intercept this 
thing."
     "We've already got one out there.  Contact Morales."  Lazlo 
worked at his console for a few moments.
     "No response," he said.
     "What?  Could interference from that thing..."
     "Negative," Porter said.  "I had them on long range before 
the surge, but they're gone now."
     "Damn."
     "Let me take a runabout.  I can take care of this threat 
myself," Lazlo said.
     "Commander, I think whatever is coming is intelligent," 
Porter said.  "It homed in on us and has been altering its
 trajectory to keep on a direct heading toward Waystation."
     "Then, it's responsible for Morales and Jones's deaths," Lazlo 
said.
     "No one's saying they're dead," Beck said.  "Get the shields 
up and arm all weapons."
     "Finally."
     "Don't get that trigger finger ready just yet, Lazlo.  We're 
going to try to communicate first."
     "Typical Starfleet wimpiness."
     Beck glared at him.
     "If you want to see how much of a wimp I am, we'll settle it 
on the rec deck...later.  For right now, start sending out hails.
  All known frequencies and languages."
     "You haven't quite figured out this sucking up to the boss 
stuff yet, have you Lazlo?" Porter said smiling.
     "Oh, shut up."
     "You're right, Commander.  It does look like an epileptic 
chipmunk."
     Beck laughed.
     "What?" Lazlo shouted.
     "There it goes again," Porter said.  Lazlo realized what they 
were laughing at and put his hand over his mustache.
     "I hate you both," he mumbled.
     "Feeling's mutual," Beck replied.
                           

Chapter Six

     The gathered pile of parts looked more like a feeble attempt 
at abstract art than the raw materials needed to get the runabout
 operational.  Commander Morales surveyed the scavenged pieces
 silently as he paced back and forth around the runabout's rear 
compartment.
     "How'd I do?" Jones asked, exhausted.  Between ripping 
panels apart and her hangover, she'd had it.  It was only sheer force
 of will and the threat of a painful suffocating death that kept her
 awake.
     "Fine," Morales said distractedly.
     "Okay."  Silence.   "So now what?"
     "Obviously, life support is our first priority.  After that, 
communications, propulsion, and sensors."
     "Sounds good.  What's the hold up?"
     "Nothing.  I was just talking myself out of starting with the 
replicators.  I haven't eaten yet."
     "Try some rations."
     "Ooh.  Yum."

     "Something is coming," Leximas said suddenly, breaking the 
silence.  She and Bradley had been lounging in deck chairs watching
 the Atlantic Ocean sail by.
     "Not for a while yet," Bradley said automatically.  "It's only 
April 12th."
     "I do not see what the date in this holodeck program is has to 
do with the fact that something is coming."
     "I thought you were talking about...never mind.  Best to keep 
it a surprise.  What's coming?"
     "I do not know.  Otherwise, I would have called it by name 
rather than referring to it as a something."
     "You know, you can be real obnoxious sometimes."
     "A recent trait I acquired from observing you," Leximas said.  
"Now then, whatever is approaching Waystation is quite powerful.
  I have not sensed energies like this before."
     "Are we in danger?"
     "I do not know.  However, I feel we should remain here.  
This ship is appears to be extremely safe."
     "Unsinkable," Bradley said, a trace of a smile crossing his 
face.  Boy was Leximas going to be surprised when April 14th
 rolled around.  This trip would probably be the most exciting
 vacation she'd ever had.

     Porter watched the approaching energy burst with increasing 
alarm.  Whatever it was had thus far resisted all of his attempts
 at identifying it.  Scans were useless, and it wasn't showing any
 signs of slowing down.
     "It's still at warp three," Porter said.  "ETA thirty seconds."
     "Arming quantum torpedoes," Lazlo said.
     "Belay that," Beck said.  "No shooting until I say so.  Put it 
on screen, Porter."  The starfield on the viewscreen shifted slightly
 to show the pulse streaking toward them like a flaming meteor.
     "Fifteen.  Fourteen.  Thirteen."
     "I don't need the countdown.  Go to red alert.  Lazlo, lock 
phasers and prepare to fire."
     "Already locked," Lazlo said.
     "Somehow I knew they would be."
     "Commander!" Porter exclaimed.  On the viewscreen, the 
energy ball slowed to almost a stop.  The glow around it gradually
 dissipated.
     "Magnify," Beck ordered, unable to make out what she was 
looking at.  The view shifted again.  "What the hell?
     "Holy sh**," Lazlo said softly.
     "It's a woman," Porter said, stating the obvious.
     On the viewscreen, a robed woman with short black hair and 
silver eyes walked through space toward them, seemingly oblivious
 to the fact that she was strolling through a cold vacuum.
     "Is that Leximas?" Lazlo said.
     "I don't think so," Porter said.  "Same race, but my readings 
on this one are right off the scale.  Should I open an airlock?"
     "That won't be necessary," the woman said, stepping right 
out of the viewscreen into ops.
     "Now that's an entrance," Porter said.  
     "I'm Commander Lisa Beck of the United Federation of 
Planets.  Welcome to Waystation."     
     "How nice.  Not exactly the type of place I'd expect her to be, 
but that's not important."
     "Can I help you?" Beck asked as the visitor looked around.
     "Karyna," the woman said simply.  She finished her survey 
of ops and turned toward Beck.  "So, you're the one in charge
 around here."
     "Yes.  These are some of my officers.  Lieutenant Craig 
Porter and Colonel Martin Lazlo."
     "I'm not one of your officers," Lazlo said.
     "Not now," Beck snapped.  Karyna walked in a circle around 
Beck, looking the commander up and down.
     "So many possibilities," Karyna said.  "Yet you choose not to 
indulge yourself."
     "I don't know what you mean," Beck said.
     "I think you do.  But, that's not my concern right now."
     "Beck, don't you think we should do something?" Lazlo said, 
reaching for his sidearm.
     "What would you suggest?" Karyna asked.  
     "Our guest has shown no signs of being hostile," Beck said.
     "Quite right," Karyna replied smiling.  "Hostile would be 
more like this."  She raised her hand toward Lazlo, then swatted
 the air.  Lazlo suddenly flew backwards into the bulkhead.
     "Stop," Beck shouted.
     "Why?" Karyna said, turning toward Beck.  "It was fun."  A 
phaser blast slammed against the side of her head from Lazlo's
 weapon.  Karyna didn't even flinch.  "Is that supposed to hurt?"
     "Oh boy," Porter said softly.
     "Lazlo, cease fire," Beck ordered.  "What do you want here?"
     "Nothing that concerns you at the moment," Karyna said.  
She reached out and ran a hand along Beck's cheek.  Beck tried to
 pull away but found her body held motionless by some unseen
 force.  "But I'll be back to teach you soon.  So many possibilities."
     Karyna then sank through the floor of ops like a ghost 
leaving Beck, Porter, and Lazlo in a stunned silence.  Beck
 was the first to snap out of it.
     "Ops to security.  Intruder alert."
     "What the hell are they going to be able to do?" Porter asked.
     "Lazlo to O'Neal," the colonel said, picking himself up.
     "O'Neal here," the Lieutenant Colonel Dan O'Neal, Lazlo's 
second-in-command replied.
     "There is a dangerous entity loose on the station.  She's the 
same race as Leximas.  Destroy her at all costs."
     "Lazlo!" Beck shouted.  "O'Neal, do not follow that order.  Is 
that understood?"
     "Colonel?" O'Neal asked confused.
     "Do it.  Lazlo out."
     "You just disobeyed a direct order, mister," Beck said 
angrily.
     "I never have and never will take orders from Starfleet," 
Lazlo said, moving toward the turbolift.  "Now, if you'll excuse
 me, I have to go exterminate an alien menace that should have
 been blasted out of space before it even got here."
     Lazlo stepped into the turbolift as he boosted the power 
setting on his phaser.  Beck let him go without another word.
  What was the point?  If Karyna was half as powerful as she
 appeared, Lazlo wasn't going to get very far anyway.
     "Where's Karyna headed?" Beck asked Porter.
     "I'm not sure.  She's blinding the sensors.  I don't think she 
wants to be tracked."
     "Did you get any useful readings?"
     "I don't know that they're useful, but they're pretty damn 
disturbing," Porter said.  Beck moved over to his console to look
 over his findings.
     "These are the readings I just took from Karyna before she 
started messing with the sensors," Porter explained pointing at
 the incomprehensible series of lines and numbers on the monitor.
  "Our records couldn't find anything to match it."
     "There's a surprise," Beck said.
     "So, I compared her readings to Leximas', since they seem to 
be the same species.  I found enough similarities to be certain
 that Karyna was one of Leximas' people."
     "Was?"
     "She's now that and something else.  Here's what's left when 
I screen out the readings consistent with Leximas' species."  The
 image changed to show a different pattern of energy levels.
     "Craig, I don't know what any of this means."
     "Neither did I, but the computer found a match."  Porter 
brought up another screen of readings.  Beck read the name of 
the species at the top of the screen and involuntarily shuddered.
     "Q."

     "What a glorious day!" Bradley exclaimed, taking a deep 
breath as he and Leximas strolled along the Starboard boat deck.
  "I had no idea cold Atlantic air could be so invigorating."
     "Or computer-simulated cold Atlantic air as the case may 
be," Leximas said.
     "You're having real problems with letting yourself be sucked 
into the illusion, aren't you?"
     "The illusion is not important.  I am enjoying myself in your 
company.  This setting merely allows me some insight into your
 psyche.  As I have said before, you surprise me."
     "How is this surprising?"
     "Someone with your apparent drive for material things does 
not seem to be the type to enjoy several days of relaxation."     
     "But what is the point of gaining wealth if you can't enjoy 
it?" Bradley replied.  "The whole point of the Titanic was wealth
 and opulence.  This was the pinnacle of luxury."
     "Until the end," a voice said from behind them.  Leximas' 
entire body tingled with energy as she and Bradley turned to 
face the newcomer.  "Hi, Lexi."
     "Karyna," Leximas said.  "I did not expect to see you again."
     "I show up out of nowhere, and all you can say is 'I did not 
expect to see you again.'  I'm disappointed.  Not surprised, but 
disappointed.  I'd hoped that you'd changed a little."
     "Who the hell is this?" Bradley asked.
     "A former pupil."
     "A free spirit like yourself, Mister Dillon," Karyna said, 
wrapping an arm around him.
     "How'd you know my name?"
     "How do you know your own?"
     "What?"
     "Exactly.  This is quite an interesting room.  It creates 
whatever you imagine?"
     "Whatever I program it to create," Bradley said.
     "How fun.  Limited, but fun.  It's all fake, though."
     "Of course."
     "Pity."
     "What do you want here, Karyna?" Leximas said.  It was one 
of the few times Bradley had heard anything even resembling
 anger in her voice.
     "I'm sorry to keep you in suspense," Karyna said.  "How rude 
of me.  Well, if you must know, I'm here to kill you."
     "Kill me?"
     "Oh, don't look so shocked.  You're the one who sent me 
away from my home.  Granted, if you hadn't, I couldn't have
 acquired my new abilities, but it's the principle of the thing,
 you see."
     "I...I can't let you do this," Bradley said, his voice wavering.
     "I'm not," Karyna said, pulling Bradley close conspiratorially.
  "You already did it."
     "Me?"
     "Yes, you.  Look around.  It's a floating deathtrap."
     "Not in the holodeck."
     "Then, I guess we'll just have to get rid of the holodeck."  
Karyna waved her hand.  Suddenly, day turned into night on 
the Titanic.  Bradley shivered as a freezing wind blew through
 his clothes and against his skin.
     "What have you done?" Leximas demanded.
     "Fulfilled Bradley-boy's life-long ambition."  She turned back 
to Bradley.  "And I want to thank you for providing such a fitting
 way to end Leximas' life.  Far far away from her home.  Brilliant."
  She kissed Bradley passionately, then pushed him away.  "Ta ta."
     With another wave of her hand, Karyna was gone.
     "Computer, end program," Bradley said.  No response.
     "I do not believe that we are aboard Waystation any longer, 
but we do appear to still be on the Titanic" Leximas said.
     "Oh no no no no no," Bradley stammered, wrapping his arms 
around himself to block out the cold.  "She couldn't."  He looked
 around again.  "Oh sh**, she did.  We're really in 1912!"
     "We must endeavor to get help."
     "Too late," Bradley said.  "Oh God."  He ran over to a 
passenger standing near the railing.  "What day is it?"
     "Are you daft, man?" the passenger said.
     "The date.  Please."
     "April 14th."
     "And the time?  Please, it's important."
     "Oh, very well."  The man pulled out his pocket watch.  "It's 
just about 11:40."
     "Is there a problem?" Leximas asked when Bradley walked 
back over to her.  He looked like he'd just seen the Borg.  Fear
 filled his eyes.
     "Oh yes," Bradley said.  Leximas looked past him, her eyes 
locking on a large object they appeared to be heading straight
 toward.
     "What is that?"  She pointed past him.  Bradley 
turned around to look, already knowing what he would see.
     "That's an iceberg." 


Chapter Seven

     Yeoman Jones tried not to think about the fact that she was 
now one bad step away from floating off into the vacuum of space.
  Her spacesuit seemed way too thin to really provide adequate
 protection from the frozen void surrounding her.  A fervent
 prayer of "Please let him order me back inside" chanted inside
 her head.
     "Magnetic spooler," Morales said, his voice barking out of 
the speaker in her helmet.  Jones reached into the engineering toolkit
 she was holding and handed Morales the requested item.
     "How long?" she asked.
     "Not too much more," he replied, concentrating on his 
repairs.  The damage to the communications array had forced
 them to don spacesuits and exit the ship to perform direct repairs
 to the runabout.   
     "Hi," a dejected voice said.  It wasn't coming over their 
helmet speakers.  Morales looked up at Jones.
     "I take it that wasn't you," Morales said.
     "No," Jones said.  They turned around to look behind them.  
A man in dressed in a black jumpsuit was sitting on the sensor
 array near the rear of the ship.  He was blond, thin, and looked
 slightly stuck up.  If he'd been human, which considering he was 
sitting nonchalantly exposed to the vacuum  of space Jones 
decided he wasn't, she'd have guessed he was from England.
     "Who are you?" Morales asked, hoping that this being which 
could obviously survive the vacuum of space could pick up his 
transmission.
     "Sorry about your ship," the man said, ignoring Morales's 
question.  "I guess it was kind of a good thing for me though.  
I've been feeling lonely.  But I'm being rude.  I should invite 
you in."  With a snap of his fingers, all three of them were 
gone.

     "Holy hell," Porter said, watching his panel flash.
     "What happened?" Beck asked.
     "Bradley and Leximas just vanished right out of Holodeck 
Two."
     "Vanished?  How?"
     "Take a guess," Porter said.
     "Karyna," Beck said into the air.  "Bring them back!"
     "No," Karyna said, flashing into existence in front of Beck.  
"That was a personal matter between me and Leximas.  You 
have no need to interfere."
     "And what did Bradley Dillon have to do with it?"
     "Him?  Oh, he was just a whim.  Trust me, Commander, he's 
thanking me right now.  Oh, one little detail I forgot.  I may come 
back to play later."  Karyna disappeared again.

     Bradley grabbed Leximas and held on to the door handle of 
one of the deck cabins with all his might.  The iceberg loomed 
closer, ready to play its historically determined role.  With a 
sudden jolt, the ship collided with the chuck of floating ice.  
A horrendous metallic grinding sounded throughout the vessel as 
the iceberg scraped along 500 feet of the Titanic's starboard side, 
buckling the hull and allowing water to gush inside the bowels of 
the ship.
     "What has happened?" Leximas asked as she extricated 
herself from Bradley's grip.
     "We just hit an iceberg.  In less than three hours, this ship 
will be on the bottom of the ocean."
     "Are you sure?"
     "Of course, I'm sure.  The Titanic is the most famous 
shipwreck in all of human history.  I'm an expert."
     "You knew this was going to happen?" Leximas said, 
realized for the first time that Bradley's innocent relaxation 
program was anything but innocent or relaxing.
     "Yes.  I thought it'd be fun."
     "You think that dying on a sinking ship in frigid water is 
fun?"
     "We were supposed to escape on a lifeboat.  It would have 
been exciting.  Now, we've really got to get out of here."  Bradley 
led Leximas toward one of the lifeboats.  Suddenly, Karyna 
appeared in front of them.
     "Hello," she said warmly.  "How are things going?"
     "Thank god," Bradley said.  "Okay, you've scared us.  Let's 
go home now."
     "I think you missed what's going on here, Mister Dillon," 
Karyna said.  She turned to Leximas.  "He's so cute and naive.  
Wherever did you find him?  Well, now's not really the time.  
You're on a sinking ship."
     Karyna snapped her fingers again.  The three of them 
vanished and reappeared in a narrow, white hallway lined 
with metal doors.
     "I think you should start here," she said.  "Oh, and I've put a 
Grecin on board just to make things more interesting.  Let the 
games begin."  Karyna vanished again.
     "Where are we?" Leximas asked.  Bradley looked around, 
then noticed that Leximas was now wearing a battered brown 
dress rather than her fashionable deck attire.  Checking his 
own clothes, he saw that he was in a worn brown suit.
     "Third class," Bradley said glumly.  "Our odds of survival 
just took a major downturn."

     The sound of shouts and footsteps rushing by the infirmary 
drew Dr. Nelson out of her latest series of scans on Midon.  With 
the station on red alert status, she decided that she'd better see 
what the hell was going on.
     Out in the corridor of the mall, Federation Marines were 
running back and forth, barking reports at each other, and 
generally being a nuisance.  She spotted Lieutenant Russell 
walking toward the security office.  He was carrying a duffle 
bag and seemed unconcerned about the marines' activities.
     "Hey, Russell," she said, running over to catch up with him.  
"Shouldn't you be arresting those psychos?"
     "Not my problem," Russell said, continuing on to his office.  
"Talk to our new head of security, Colonel Lazlo."
     "Lazlo!  What the hell happened?"
     "I'm being shipped out for disobeying orders and general 
incompetence."
     "Well, I can't argue with the incompetance, but I'd rather 
have you than Lazlo any day.  Let me talk to Commander Beck.  
Maybe she'll listen to reason."
     "I think she's got her hands full right now," Russell said.  
"We've got some super-powered alien thing on board.  That's 
why the marines are out in force."
     "Over there!" one of the marines shouted suddenly.  Phaser 
fire ripped past Dr. Nelson, narrowly missing her.
     "You damn fools!" Nelson screamed.  "I'm Nelson."
     "I believe they were shooting at me," Karyna said from 
behind her.  "Find your own playmates."  Karyna vanished, 
then reappeared in the center of the food court standing on 
one of the tables.
     "Over here, boys and girls," she taunted, pulling up her grey 
robes to expose a bit of bare leg.  "You can have me...if you can 
catch me."  Four marines tried to tackle her as the others opened 
fire.  Karyna vanished just as the charging marines got to her 
position.  They were met instead by the phaser blasts 
from the other marines and zapped into unconsciousness.
     Karyna reappeared between Russell and Nelson and wrapped 
her arms around them like an old friend.
     "Look at the morons," Karyna said.  "I've got them so worked 
up, they don't know whether to shoot or drool.  Hold this, will you?"  
She slipped out of her robes, leaving them in Nelson's grip.  
Underneath, was a skimpy, Vegas showgirl-style outfit.  "Music!"
     Out of nowhere, Starfleet Square Mall filled with the sounds 
of an orchestra.  Karyna wrapped Russell's arms around her neck, 
and the two of them lifted up off the deck and into the performance 
of a mid-air dance.  Karyna led the dance, dipping Russell occasionally 
and twirling him around wildly.
     "Hold it!" she said suddenly, stopping in mid-turn.  She 
looked down at the agape marines watching her show.  "You 
all must feel so left out.  I'll take care of that."  She snapped her 
fingers causing ten more Karynas decked out in the same showgirl 
outfits to appear.  Each of them grabbed a marine and lifted up 
into the air. 
     "Hey!  What about me?" Nelson demanded, tossing Karyna's 
robes to the floor.
     "No dancing for the coat check girl.  Especially not after that 
kind of service," Karyna said.  "Come on, everyone else!"  And 
all the Karynas began to sing.

     "I could have danced all night.  
      I could have danced all night.
      And still have begged for more.
      I could have spread my wings.
      And done a thousand things.
      I've never done before."

     "You know showtunes?" Russell asked in shock.
     "I know everything, Sean," Karyna said.  "I know about you 
and Lisa Beck and what she's done to you and what you've done 
to her.  But don't you worry my good man, I'm going to make 
everything all better."  She kissed him.
     "Things are improving already," Russell said, a smile 
spreading across his face.  Who needed Beck and Starfleet?  
He had a god-like being interested in him.
     "Let's get out of here," Karyna whispered seductively in his 
ear.
     "Good idea.  My place or yours."
     "It's a surprise."  Karyna snapped her fingers, and she and 
Russell disappeared.
     The music came to a sudden halt as all of the Karynas 
winked out of existence.  Without their dance partners, the 
floating marines quickly became the screaming and falling 
marines, landing on the deck with several painful thuds.
     "Medic," one of the cried weakly.
     "Not a chance," Dr. Nelson said storming towards a turbolift.  
"Next time, maybe someone will dance with me!"

     "Hey, this isn't my place!" Russell said looking at his new 
surroundings.  Karyna had brought him to ops, the last place 
he really wanted to be right now.
     "And thank god for small favors," Lieutenant Porter said 
from the science station.
     Commander Beck advanced angrily on Karyna.  She wasn't 
quite sure how to threaten a being of immense power, but she was 
certainly going to try.
     "I've had enough of you running around this station with 
absolutely no regard for me or Starfleet!" Beck said.
     "I'm sorry, Commander," Russell said.  "She..."
     "I wasn't talking to you, Russell!"
     "Oh, that little tirade was directed at me," Karyna said.  She 
was back in her subdued grey robes as opposed to the showgirl outfit. 
     "You're damn right it was!  I want you to bring back Leximas 
and Bradley Dillon and then get off my station."
     "All fire and no fun," Karyna said.  "This is your lucky day.  
You, my dear Lisa, are in great need of my services.  I've decided 
to take pity on you."
     "Pity?  Does that involve you leaving?" Beck said.
     "Yes, this station is a bit limited for my needs.  Let's adjourn 
to somewhere more my style."
     "I'm staying right here," Beck said.  She was proven wrong 
by a snap of Karyna's fingers.  She, Karyna, and Russell disappeared 
leaving Porter alone in ops.
     "And that about wraps it up for the command crew," Porter 
said humorlessly.
                          

Chapter Eight

     "Where are we?" Yeoman Jones asked looking around at the 
room she and Morales had found themselves in.  It appeared to 
be a plush den, but everything was black: the walls, the furniture,  
the flames in the fireplace, even the painting on the wall of dogs 
playing fizzbin.
     "And who's his decorator?" Morales said pulling off the 
helmet of his spacesuit.  He and Jones looked comically out 
of place wearing their space gear inside someone's living room.
     "Actually, I did it all myself," the being who had brought 
them there said, walking over to the fireplace to stoke the 
flames.  "Some artists have a blue period.  I guess you could 
say this is my black period."
     "Who are you?" Jones asked.
     "Q."
     "The Q?" Morales said nervously.
     "I am of the Q Continuum.  But my name is Q."
     "How's Captain Picard?"
     "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for another Q."
     "My mistake," Morales said relieved.  "Just checking."
     Q threw himself into one of the plush end chairs flanking the 
fireplace.  A pipe appeared in his mouth, already lit and spewing 
black smoke.  He watched Morales and Jones intently, as if waiting 
for something.
     "Uh...can we go now?" Jones asked.  Q laughed a humorless, 
foreboding laugh.
     "Go?  Oh no.  You cannot go.  She already went, and you 
see what it did to me.  I require companionship, Tina Jones."
     "He knows who I am," Jones whispered to Morales fearfully.
     "He's a Q.  Of course, he knows," Morales replied.
     "Oh yeah."
     "Mr. Q," Morales said, not sure if "Mister" was the 
appropriate form of address for an immortal being with 
god-like powers.  "With all due respect to your recent loss 
of whoever she was, you cannot keep us here.  Yeoman Jones 
and I have positions of responsibility in Starfleet."
     "Walter, has anyone ever told you how boring you are?" Q 
said.  "You've got to do better.  Fortunately, you'll have lots of 
time to practice."
     "I don't think you've been listening to me," Morales said.
     "Practice at what?" Jones asked.  She wasn't listening to 
Morales either.
     "Entertaining me.  I'm tried being alone.  I was good at it, 
but then she came and ruined it all.  I just can't be alone 
anymore.  I'm just glad you two happened by when you did.  I 
was in no mood to go out searching for company."
     "What do we do, Commander?" Jones asked.
     "Uhh..."
     "Anyone up for some chess?" Q asked.  With a wave of his 
hand, a chess set appeared.  Both sets of pieces were black.  "I 
go first."

     "Where are we?" Leximas asked as Bradley led her through 
another drab room lined with benches.
     "One of the third class dining halls," Bradley said.  "We've 
got to find a way up to the boat deck."  He knew that just below 
them in the engine room, water was rushing in starting the Titanic 
toward its inevitable rendezvous with the bottom of the icy Atlantic.
     They entered the kitchen area where Bradley hoped to find 
crew stairs to the upper levels.  The kitchen was empty except 
for the faint sound of snoring.  Searching for the source of the 
sound, Bradley found a cook asleep under one of the prep tables.
     "Hey, wake up," Bradley said, shaking the cook.  "We're 
sinking."
     "Yeah right," the groggy cook said.  "This is the Titanic.  
She's..."
     "About to become a pile of wreckage.  Get up!"
     "Leave off you..."
     "I would strongly suggest that you heed my companion's 
warnings," Leximas said.  "We are all in grave danger."  The 
cook looked up at Leximas as if in a trance.
     "We're really sinking?" he asked.
     "Yes," Leximas said simply.
     "Blimey!  Let's go!"  The cook leapt up and raced out the rear 
door of the kitchen.  Bradley and Leximas ran after him, catching
 up to him just as he pulled a steel gate across the crew stairs, 
cutting them off from safety.
     "What are you doing?" Bradley demanded.
     "Sorry, bloke, but you're third class.  I can't let you up here.  
I'd lose my post."  The cook ran up the stairs leaving Bradley 
and Leximas trapped below.
     "So much for gratitude," Bradley said angrily.  "I'd give real 
latinum for a phaser right now."
     "We may need it," Leximas said.  "For the Grecin."
     "Grecin?  That thing Karyna mentioned?  What the heck is 
it?"
     "A genetically-engineered assassin used by the natives of 
Poydras in our solar system.  Grecin have no thoughts or cares 
other than hunting down and killing their assigned prey."
     "And that would be us," Bradley said.  "Perfect.  On the 
bright side, it'll be going down with us."
     "Perhaps, although Grecin implode rather messily upon 
completing their kills.  They can only have one target encoded 
in their gene structure."
     "I'm not the person to be in this situation," Bradley muttered.  
"This is a Starfleet kind of thing.   I'm a seller, not a fighter."
     "In this case, some new vocational training is in order," 
Leximas replied.  "Although, our first concern should be 
escaping this vessel.  Being killed by the Grecin is only a 
possibility; if we go down with this ship, death will be a 
certainty."
     "Excellent point."

     "Where are we?" Lieutenant Colonel O'Neal said weakly as 
he regained consciousness.  A figure was looming over him, but 
his vision was too blurred to make it out.
     "You're on the floor, you idiot," Colonel Lazlo said angrily.  
"Get up!"
     O'Neal snapped to attention and looked around.  He was still 
in Starfleet Square Mall with his squad, but how had they ended 
up unconscious.  The memory floated back to him.  Dancing, flying, 
falling, ouch.  The intruder, Karyna, that's what happened.
     "Squad to your feet!" O'Neal ordered.  With a lot of moaning 
and complaining, his marines formed a line.
     "Disgraceful," Lazlo said, marching up and down the line.  "I 
send you out on one simple capture of a god-creature and what 
happens?  I find you all asleep in the middle of the mall.  You 
ought to be drummed out of the corps!"
     "With all due respect, sir," O'Neal said.  "She overpowered 
us."
     "And made us dance," Private Copeland added.
     "Dance?" Lazlo said, his mustache starting to quiver as his 
anger grew.  "Dance!"
     "Yes, sir," Copeland said meekly.
     "Find her!  Kill her!  I want little bits of her ashes strewn 
across my desk by fourteen hundred hours!  Is that understood?"
     "YES, SIR!" the marines shouted in reply.
     "Squad, move out," O'Neal said.  "Don't worry, Colonel, 
we'll take care of this."
     "Good.  But if I find you've broken out into a Conga line, 
you're all in big trouble."
     "No, sir.  No Conga."  O'Neal ran off down the mall, phaser 
rifle at the ready.  Lazlo shook his head and walked toward the 
turbolift near the infirmary.
     "They're actually pretty talented.  I'm waiting for them to do 
'A Chorus Line,'" Dr. Nelson said, leaning against the entrance 
to the infirmary.
     "Shut up, slug bitch," Lazlo snapped.
     "Sorry.  I forgot.  Marines don't dance," Nelson said, falling 
into step beside him.
     "Where are you going?" Lazlo said.
     "Ops.  I want to know what's going on around here.  Isn't 
that where you're headed?"
     "Yeah, but I didn't ask for company."
     "Neither did I, but I've decided to put up with you anyway," 
Nelson said.

     "Where are we?" Lieutenant Russell asked.  Beck tried to 
look over to him, but couldn't.  She couldn't look at anything.  
Her body was gone.  Somehow, she could sense Russell and 
Karyna, but they were no longer corporeal.  The feeling was 
disconcerting to say the least.  Her mind, used to being confined 
within and in control of a body, suddenly found itself without 
boundaries.  Forced to deal with an environment it had no idea 
how to comprehend, Beck's brain started filling in details; it was 
like sight, but her mind was creating all of it.
     Greyness coalesced into a cloudy terrain.  Russell was beside 
her, Karyna in front of her smiling with an annoying look of 
superiority.  Even though her mind was creating it all, the effect 
was strangely real causing Beck to wonder just how much of what 
she thought she saw in her everyday life her eyes really responsible 
for.
     "We're nowhere," Karyna replied.  "At least it's nowhere 
right now.  Soon, it will become somewhere."
     "Do you understand any of this, Commander?" Russell asked.
     "I believe so," Beck said.  "This place will become whatever 
our minds create."
     "Very good," Karyna said, clapping.  "I knew that deep down 
you were like me.  You can comprehend the vastness of this 
opportunity."
     The clouds gradually dissipated, revealing a forest of thick 
tress.  Sounds of moving water could be heard in the distance 
as birds sang all around them.  The sun shone down with a warm 
caress making the day just about perfect.  Idyllic.   
     "Your parents' summer place off the coast of North 
Carolina," Karyna said.
     "Yes," Beck replied.  "It's beautiful."
     "And you created it."
     Beck looked around and realized Russell was gone.
     "What happened to Sean?"
     "Oh, he's fine.  I just put him in storage until we're ready for 
him.  He should be suitably entertained.  Now, show me around."
     "Don't you know it all already?"
     "But I don't know it like you do."
     Beck walked off into the woods toward the house she could 
just make out through the trees, her parents' house...her house now.  
Her life had changed a lot over the last thirty years, but this place 
always somehow managed to remain untouched.  Its stability and 
beauty calmed her and made her wonder why she visited so 
infrequently.
     All anger and resentment of Karyna and her intrusion in her 
life vanished as soon as Beck realized where she was and the gift 
Karyna had given her.  Waystation would be fine for a while without 
her.  This was where she needed to be right now.
     "Come on,"Beck said.  "Let me show you something."

     Sean Russell idly wondered where Karyna and Commander 
Beck had gone off to.  It wasn't of too great concern, though.  The 
mansion he'd found himself in and the twenty gorgeous serving girls 
that came with the place were doing a marvelous job of keeping him 
company.
     "More wine, grapes, sex?" one of the beautiful angels asked.
     "Please," Russell said.  "And I'll take a double helping of that 
last one."
     "Of course, sire," another one of the ladies said, removing 
her top.
     "Heaven.  Pure heaven," Russell said smiling.


Chapter Nine

     Lieutenant Commander Morales watched Q make his next 
move.  Not that it really mattered.  Q had lost three pawns during 
the entire game, while Morales only had his king and a knight left.  
At one time in his life, like a couple of hours ago, Morales had 
considered himself to be pretty good at chess.  Playing against 
an omnipotent being had pretty much squashed that belief.
     "Checkmate," Q said, sounding bored.
     "Sorry I wasn't much of a challenge," Morales said irritated.
     "I thought since your species invented the game that I'd be 
giving you a sporting chance.  Obviously not."
     "Could we try something else?" Jones said from the recliner.  
She'd never played a game of chess in her life, and, if what she'd 
just witnessed was any indication, she didn't really want to.  She 
thought they were supposed to be entertaining Q, not putting him 
into a coma.
     "What did you have in mind?" Q said.
     "Let's get out.  Go somewhere with fresh air and food and 
rides and..."
     Q waved his hand quickly.  In a flash, the three of them were 
standing in the middle of a carnival with sprightly calliope music 
and happy shouts and laughter in the air.
     "Someplace like this," Q said.
     "Exactly," Jones said, grabbing Q's arm and pulling him 
toward a roller coaster.  "This is just what you need."
     "But I get sick on these things," Morales protested.  Jones 
looked back at him strangely.
     "And you piloted shuttles for years?"
     "Totally different thing," Morales said, looking nervous as 
they approached the entrance to a coaster called The Gutwrencher.
     "What about you?" Jones asked Q.
     "I'm omnipotent.  I do not fear this little ride."
     "Yeah, but are you going to puke on me?"
     "Q do not puke."
     "We'll see," Jones said smiling.

     After leaving the steerage dining room, Bradley Dillon's first 
priority was to find a watch.  He figured that they'd already lost 
twenty minutes fooling around with that damn cook, and Bradley 
wanted to be sure to keep a close eye on the time from then on.  
One way or another, he and Leximas had to be off of the Titanic 
before the ship went under at 2:20 a.m.
     After busting into a couple of cabins and finding nothing, 
Bradley had pretty much given up hope that any of these poor 
passengers in third class owned a time piece.
     "Perhaps we should forget this idea for now," Leximas said.  
"Surely a watch will be available in on the upper decks."
     "You're probably right," Bradley said.  "Let's get mov..."
     He stopped in mid-sentence and walked down the hall a bit.
     "Someone's coming," he said.  "A lot of someones."  Bradley 
pushed Leximas back into one of the cabins and closed the door, 
leaving himself a crack to look out of.
     "Come on then, keep moving," a white-clad steward shouted 
as he passed by the room.  Close behind him was a whole group 
of shabbily-dressed men, women, and children looking confused 
and scared.  Bringing up the rear was another steward.  Bradley 
noticed a pocket watch chain sticking out of his pocket.
     "I'll be right back," Bradley whispered, slipping silently out 
the door.  He returned moments later with the watch.
     "How did you acquire that?" Leximas asked.  
     "I swiped it," Bradley said, putting the watch in his pocket.  
"Some people just don't pay close enough attention to their 
belongings."
     "I had no idea you were so skilled at petty theft and 
pickpocketing."
     "It's not something I advertise.  They're skills I save for special 
occasions," Bradley replied.  "Now, let's go follow those stewards."
     "I do not think they are going to take us to the upper decks."
     "I'm not concerned about that," Bradley said.  "In the Titanic 
sinking, over 100 foreign steerage passengers were locked in a 
lounge and left there.  The idea was to keep them out of the way 
until they could be rescued, but the stewards forgot about them."
     "So they all perished."
     "Yes.  I'm going to let them out."
     "And what about the damage to the timeline this act could 
cause," Leximas said.  "The forces of time are not to be trifled 
with.  Ramifications could stretch far beyond this one sinking."
     "Lexi, most of these people won't survive no matter what I 
do.  I just want to give them a fighting chance," Bradley said 
leaving the cabin.  He tracked the stewards to a third-class lounge 
near the front of the ship.  Once they had moved on, Bradley 
unlocked the lounge and entered.
     "We're sinking!  Get off the ship!" Bradley shouted to the 
huddled group.  They stared at him blankly, not comprehending 
a word he said.  Leximas calmly walked up beside him.
     "I see that a universal translator would be rather useful to 
you," she said.
     "No kidding."  He tried arm gestures to show the ship 
sinking.  They just didn't understand.
     "May I try?" Leximas asked.
     "Sure," Bradley said stepping back.  "I can't figure out how to 
make them leave."
     Leximas closed her eyes for a few moments then opened 
them.
     "That should do it," she said.
     "Do what?  Nothing happened."
     Bradley quickly realized he was wrong.  All around the 
room, the passengers talked excitedly amongst themselves then 
started to rush out of the lounge.
     "I believe they got the message."
     "What the devil?" an angry voice shouted from out of the 
room just as the door slammed shut.  Bradley rushed over to the 
little window in the lounge door and saw a steward walking away.  
"I told him to lock this door." he could hear the steward say.
     Bradley tried the door handle.  Not surprisingly, it was 
locked.  He screamed and slumped down to the floor.
     "On the bright side, the Grecin will probably not find us in 
here," Leximas said.
     "Not unless he can swim," Bradley said, noticing water 
starting to trickle in on the far side of the room.

     "Oh sh**!" Q screamed as The Gutwrencher plummeted 
towards the ground.  He and Jones were sitting in the first car 
of the ride.  She had her arms up in the air and was laughing at 
him, finding the omnipotent's cursing hilarious.
     "Let go!" she shouted.
     "No way!" Q said.  The track leveled off then sent the cars 
into a tight turn.
     "Having fun yet?" Jones asked.
     "Actually, maybe," Q said.  "Let's go again."
     "Please no," Morales said from the seat behind them.
     "With all due respect, Commander, lighten up," Jones said.  
Jones heard the sound of vomiting coming from Morales.  "That's 
one way to do it I guess."

     The opening of the turbolift doors just about scared the hell 
out of Lieutenant Porter.  He'd gotten used to being alone in ops.  
     "What the hell is going on up here?" Colonel Lazlo shouted 
angrily as he and Dr. Nelson stormed out of the lift..  "Shouldn't 
you be tracking that alien menace?  Where's Beck?"
     "Nothing.  It's gone.  And she's gone," Porter said.  "That 
about brings you up to date."
     "Gone," Nelson said.
     "Karyna took her and Russell," Porter replied.  "I can't get a 
fix on them anywhere.  Of course, since Karyna's part Q, she could 
have taken them anywhere."
     "Meanwhile, you're running ops single-handed," Lazlo said.  
"What if we'd been attacked?  You need people up here."
     "I thought looking for the commander and Russell was just a 
bit more important," Porter said.
     "Not anymore.  Your priority now is finding a way to defeat a 
Q," Lazlo said.
     "I believe Porter's in charge here now," Nelson said.  "He's 
the highest ranking command officer on board."
     "I'm a colonel."
     "You're not Starfleet," Nelson said.  She turned to Porter.  
"Orders, sir." 
     "Contact Starfleet and tell them what's going on," Porter 
said, grateful that Nelson was backing him up.  "I'm going to 
get Mazzone and Stanton up here."
     "I don't think you two get it," Lazlo said aiming his phaser at 
them.  "I'm in charge here."
     "Not now, Lazlo," Nelson said heading toward the comm 
system.  Lazlo fired, sending a precisely aimed blast into her arm.  
Nelson screamed and fell, clutching her stunned limb as Porter ran 
over to help her.
     "That was the lowest setting, but I can and I will go higher," 
Lazlo said.  "As I said before, I am in charge here."

     Lisa Beck stood barefoot on the beach looking out at the 
Atlantic ocean.  The sun was beginning to set behind her, casting 
long orange streaks of color along the water.  She squished her toes 
into the wet sand, feeling it ooze between them.  For the first time in 
a long time, she felt really relaxed and happy.  Nothing could ever 
disturb her on this island.
     "This place is very beautiful," Karyna said from behind her.
     "Always was.  My parents brought my sister and I here every 
summer.  Dad would spend his days out on his boat fishing.  Mom 
and Kathy usually suntanned or worked in the house.
     "What about you?"
     "I built a lot of sand castles in the early years.  Or I'd play in 
the woods, climbing trees and stuff," Beck said, starting to walk 
along the sand.  "Once I got older, I studied."
     "For Starfleet Academy."
     "Right," Beck said.  "It's all I wanted."
     "Or all your parents wanted for you," Karyna said.  "You 
probably would have much rather been out building sand castles."
     "Starfleet was my idea.  I'd watch holos of Kirk and Pike and 
just dream of going out there someday."
     "Was it worth it?  Spending your youth in books, watching 
your sister have fun while you thought of astronavigation and 
antimatter intermix ratios."
     "I got what I wanted," Beck said.
     "No, you got command of a station in the middle of nowhere.  
You aren't exploring, and you probably won't be advancing up the 
ranks any.  You're alone and going nowhere."
     Beck didn't want to think that Karyna was right, but deep 
down, she knew that there was a lot of truth to what she was saying.
     "What do I do?" Beck asked.  "How do I change it?"
     "Let go of your life and come join mine," Karyna said.  "I 
can sense that wanderlust in you, the same feeling that's in me.  
Starfleet used to be your only hope for experiencing the galaxy, 
but now I can take you places you've never dreamed of.  I'll show 
you pleasures that will bring you to your knees throbbing with 
ecstasy.  All you have to do is let me teach you to let loose your 
passion, the fire you have within."
     "You want me to travel with you?"
     "Yes, Lisa Beck.  I've never been one for emotional 
attachments.  Like you, I'm a loner.  Together then, we could be 
a fantastic team, living only for pleasure and providing 
companionship to each other.  Companionship we both desperately 
need."
     Beck turned back to the water, lost in thought.  Karyna came 
up close behind her and leaned her head close to Beck's.
     "I can give you the power to come back to this anytime you 
want," Karyna whispered in her ear.  "I can give you anything at all."
     Beck considered the offer.  No more paperwork.  No more 
holding the station together and having all those people depending 
on her.  For once, she could live for solely for herself.
     "Let's do it," Beck said.  Karyna put her arm around Beck's 
shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.
     "You won't regret it," Karyna said sultrily.  "I promise."  She 
snapped her fingers, and both of them were gone.


Chapter Ten

     "I think I really got bored around the big bang," Q said as 
The Gutwrencher sped through another turn pressing him and 
Jones against the side of the car.  "I just didn't know what to do 
with myself after that."
     "Didn't you have any Q friends?" Yeoman Jones asked.
     "Is this really the best place for therapy?" Morales said 
weakly from behind them.  "I can't take much more of this."
     "But I like it," Q said.  "And this is only our fourteenth time.  
Anyway, back to the Q, I got along with a few of them, but they 
always wanted to go mess with developing life-forms.  I got that 
out of my system four universes ago.  This time around, I decided 
to live a less destructive life and just travel.  Unfortunately, when 
you've seen one universe, you've seen them all."
     "So you went away to be alone," Jones said.
     "Exactly.  I wanted to be away from the temptation to meddle 
with some developing world.  Q and Q do that all the time.  I just 
don't understand how they can still find it fun."
     "Loop!" Morales shouted, clamping his eyes shut as the 
coaster turned upside down.
     "Really, Commander, I don't see how you can stay in 
Starfleet with such a weak heart," Q said.  "Where's your 
sense of fun?"
     "I think it came up with the contents of my stomach a few 
turns back," Morales said.  "Can we please, please try another ride?"
     "Oh all right," Q said, waving his hand.  The three of them 
vanished and reappeared in another ride.  "How about The Scrambler?"  
The ride jerked into motion, throwing Morales against the safety bar in 
front of him, then against the side of the car as The Scrambler twirled 
and sped back and forth.
     "Oh yeah, much better," Morales said just before passing out.

     Bradley and Leximas huddled as close to the door as they 
could but the frigid ocean water was rapidly flowing into the tilting 
room.
     "Can't you just telepathically unlock this thing?" Bradley 
asked after shaking the door violently for the fiftieth time.
     "Yes," Leximas said.  "But I need to meditate to achieve the 
control necessary to move the lock bolt, and I do not believe we have 
that much time."
     "No kidding.  We're just going to have to find another way."  
Bradley looked around the lounge.  It was pretty bare except for a 
some chairs, a couple of benches, and a battered piano.  He looked 
at the metal door blocking their escape.  There was no way he was 
going to get through that metal with the junk in this room.  At the 
very least, though, he could try and keep above the water.  He started 
stacking the benches and chairs into a pile.
     "Who designed this ship?" Leximas said, trying to mask her 
frustration.  "It is a floating death trap."
     "It wasn't supposed to sink," Bradley replied.  "Someone 
forgot to mention that to the iceberg."  He helped Leximas up to the 
top of pile of benches and climbed up behind her.  They sat in silence 
for a few moments.
     "Lexi..." Bradley said finally.  "I'm sorry for this.  None of 
this would have happened if I hadn't invited you into that program."
     "Perhaps not, Mister Dillon," Leximas replied.  "However, 
Karyna would have still come to Waystation intent on killing me.  
Your program just happened to be the method she picked.  If anything, 
I should apologize to you for causing you to be dragged into this.  If it 
were not for me, you would still be safe on Waystation.  The only one 
really to blame here is Karyna.  I must find a way to stop her."
     "That'll be a good trick considering she's not here, and unless 
you can time travel, I don't think we're going to be seeing her any 
time soon."
     "Nevertheless, she is the wrong person to have that kind of 
power.  However, you are not a fault for her actions."
     "Thanks," Bradley said.  "I just didn't want to die with you 
hating me."
     "I have not ever hated you," Leximas said.  "You are a most 
intriguing man.  Although, I am slightly upset that you did not 
inform me of the true nature of this program."
     "Surprise," Bradley said.  The water was starting to splash 
against the benches at the bottom of the pile.  The deck tilted 
forward a little more.  "No one's ever going to know."
     "Know what exactly?" Leximas said.
     "That we died here.  We aren't even going to be on the 
Titanic passenger lists.  We're just going to be a couple of 
nameless victims added to the 1,500 that are going to go down 
with this ship."
     "Not to criticize you in this time of crisis, Mister Dillon, but 
your attitude toward certain death is not very uplifting.  Perhaps 
you should try meditating with me to clear your mind and body for 
the journey to come."
     "I'd rather mope," Bradley said.  Suddenly, the door clanged 
loudly as something thudded against it.
     "We're saved!" Bradley shouted, jumping down from the 
benches.  He rushed through the cold water and looked out the 
small window imbedded in the door.  
     No one was in sight. 
      "I don't see..."
     A hideous orange face leapt up into view in front of the 
window, long fangs protruding from its mouth, neon green eyes 
flashing.  Bradley screamed as the beast roared and slammed into 
the door again.  
     "I take it the Grecin has located us," Leximas said.
     "Good guess," Bradley said, backing away from the door 
fearfully.  "We're dead."
     "If you remember, we were already going to die from the 
water.  I do not see the cause for alarm."
     "Sorry, my annoying desire for self preservation is acting up 
again," Bradley said.
     The door shook again and started to dent.
     "He may get through that metal," Bradley said in disbelief.
     "Most likely," Leximas said, climbing down to join Bradley 
in the water.  "Now then, if you are set on surviving, we must be 
ready when the Grecin breaks through."
     "Ready?  What are we going to do?  Bonk him on the head 
with a bench?"
     "I doubt we would live long enough to get that close to it," 
Leximas said.
     "Oh, lovely."

     Lazlo kept his phaser aimed at Porter and Nelson as he 
moved over to the comm panel.   Nelson's arm was numb from 
the stun blast, but Porter was pretty sure she could kill Lazlo without 
it if given the chance.
     "Finally, this station is going to have some order," Lazlo 
said.  "Waystation is now a Federation Marine outpost.  Any 
objections?"  Porter opened his mouth to say something but decided 
the smart retort he had in mind just wasn't worth getting shot.  "I didn't
 think so," Lazlo said, smiling smugly.  He turned to the console and 
activated the stationwide intercom.
     "Attention Waystation.  This is Colonel Martin Lazlo.  As of 
this stardate, I have assumed command of this station." 
     Porter noticed Lazlo's arm lower slightly.  Nelson nudged 
him indicated she'd seen the same thing.  Porter nodded, then leapt 
forward just as Nelson did the same.  Before Lazlo could react, Porter 
and Nelson were on him, tackling the colonel to the deck.
     "Security to ops," Porter shouted.  
     "Marines, arrest all Starfleet personnel on sight," Lazlo 
ordered.
     "Marines, do not obey that order," Nelson yelled.  "Colonel 
Lazlo has lost his mind."
     "I have not."
     "O'Neal to ops," Lieutenant Colonel O'Neal's voice said 
hesitantly.  "Are we supposed to take over Waystation or not?"
     "Yes!" Lazlo shouted, pushing Nelson off of him and 
slamming an elbow into Porter's gut.
     "Yes, take over.  Or yes, don't take over."
     "Take over the damn station now!" Lazlo screamed.  He 
punched Porter a few more times and regained control of his 
phaser.
     "Starfleet personnel to battlestations.  Defend the station," 
Nelson said.
     "Oh shut up," Lazlo said, stunning Nelson.  He stood up over 
Porter and aimed his phaser down at him.
     "That wasn't very nice," Porter said weakly as he wiped blood 
away from his mouth.
     "I'm not a nice man," Lazlo said.
     "That's no way to be.  Give me a hug, chipmunk lips."
     Lazlo started shaking with anger.  Porter took the opportunity 
to kick Lazlo's legs out from under him and lunge for the phaser.  
Lazlo recovered quickly and flipped Porter over  his head and 
into the docking console.  Porter landed on his back, across the 
console.
     "See there!" Lazlo said, strutting toward Porter.  "That's what 
Marine training can do for you."  Porter's ribs were in agony.  He lay 
motionless, gasping for breath.
     "What?  Make you an asshole?" Porter said with all the 
energy he could muster.
     Lazlo aimed his phaser and fired, relieving Porter of his pain 
and of consciousness.

     Sean Russell wondered when things had gone wrong.  One 
second, he was about to enjoy some incredible sex with women bent 
on pleasing his every whim, the next he was chained up somewhere.  
The worst part was, he had no idea where that somewhere was.  He 
couldn't see or hear a thing.  His arms were being stretched painfully 
above his head as his legs were chained, spread, to the floor.  Extreme 
arousal turned to extreme fear very quickly.  He was blind, deaf, and 
helpless in the face of who knew what kind of monster.
     "What do you think?" Karyna asked as Beck stared in shock 
at her former security chief.  Russell's eyes were moving around 
erratically, not focusing on anything.
     "Sean!  Are you okay?"
     "He can't see or hear you," Karyna said.  "I've taken care of 
that.  I don't see why you should care anyway, Lisa.  This man has 
caused you no end of trouble.  Here, I've practically gift wrapped him 
for you."
     "Gift wrapped?  What am I supposed to do with him?"
     "Anything you want.  You have all the power.  He's just a 
pathetic nothing, quaking with fear and wondering what's about 
to happen to him.  Surely you see the possibilities."
     A smile spread across Beck's face as she walked over to 
Russell.  She walked around him a couple of times, then quickly 
slapped him across the face.  Russell jerked back stunned.
     "Who's there?" he said frightened.  "What do you want?
     Beck laughed.  He seemed so much less sure of himself now.  
The cocky Sean Russell had been reduced to a quivering worm.
     "Perfect, Lisa," Karyna said, stepping forward.  She ran her 
hands along Sean's chest.  As she did so, his uniform top and 
turtleneck dissolved into nothing.  "Enjoy yourself, my dear Lisa."  
Beck walked around to Russell's exposed back, allowing her anger 
to rise up.  Sean Russell.  Disobedient toad.
     She quickly slashed her nails down his back, drawing blood.  
Russell gasped in pain and tried to pull away.
     "There's nowhere to run, Sean," Beck said, unable to control 
her evil laughter.  She slashed his back again and again until it 
was a cris-cross of red streaks.
     "This is what power can be," Karyna said.  "No paperwork, 
no regulations.  Just pleasure as you use your minions to indulge 
your every desire."
     Beck looked at her handiwork on Russell's back.  The anger 
was gone, but instead of guilt and remorse at what she'd done to 
him, she felt only satisfaction.
     "Please," Russell said weakly.  "No more."  Beck walked in 
front of him and leaned right down into his face.
     "Let him see and hear me," Beck said.
     "Done," Karyna said.
     Russell blinked several times as his vision came back into 
focus.  Realizing Beck was in front of his, he relaxed, relieved.
     "Commander, thank god.  Get me out of here."
     "Why?  I'm the one keeping you," Beck said.  She ran her 
nails down his chest, sending another stream of pain into Russell.
     "Lisa..."
     "Shut up!" Beck shouted.   "You have no right to talk to me.  
You're an incompetent worm!  An imbecile!  I should just throw 
you in some dark prison cell somewhere and let you rot!"  God, 
this felt good, unlike anything she'd experienced before.  Such 
complete freedom to do whatever she wanted to this quivering 
mass of flesh in front of her.
     She slapped Russell again, watching the shocked and hurt 
expression on his face.  He looked...crushed.  He slumped down 
as far as his chains would let him, no longer looking at Beck.  
Uninvited compassion welled up in her.  This was a person, a 
fellow officer, and a friend.
     "You must press forward, Lisa.  You've just about broken 
him," Karyna said, sensing Beck's will weakening.  Beck took 
Russell's chin in her hand and drew his head up to look at her.
     "Sean...I'm sorry...I didn't mean..."
     "Yes, you did," he said softly.  "You meant every word."
     "Punish him for his insolence!" Karyna said.
     "No.  Send him home."
     "Lisa.  True power lies in taking what you want."
     "I've done what I want with Russell.  Get him out of here!" 
Beck said angrily.
     "Get away, Lisa," Russell said.  "She's..."
     Before he could finish, Karyna made him vanish with a snap 
of her fingers.
     "I can see they're too close to you," Karyna said.  "I should 
have started you somewhere else."
     "Is that what your idea of gaining pleasure from power is?" 
Beck demanded.  "Torture?  Pain?"
     "We didn't do anything permanent.  Sean is safely back on 
your station.  Do you want to go back with him?  I can certainly 
return you to your paperwork, boredom, and bureaucracy."
     Beck stood in silence for a moment.  Did she want to go 
home?  Honestly, no.  Until she yelled at Russell, the rush of 
power felt wonderful.  Control with none of Starfleet's restrictions.  
Karyna was taking her to a place within herself she never dreamed 
of.  A place where Lisa Beck could be more than some mid-level 
officer.  The entire universe was at Karyna's command, and she 
wanted to share it with Beck, give Beck some of that rush.
     "Show me more," Beck said simply.
                          

Chapter Eleven

     Yeoman Jones looked over at Morales and wondered if he 
was going to be okay.  He'd been retching into the trash can by 
the snack bar for a good ten minutes.  Only the occasional moan 
echoing out of the trash can assured her that he was still conscious.
     "You humans are just not built for fun," Q said just before 
taking a huge bite of his chili dog.  "Of course, omnipotence is a 
great asset to enjoying the universe."
     "It doesn't seem to have helped you much," Jones replied.  
"You've been huddling in a nebula since the beginning of the 
universe."
     "Only this universe.  You should have seen the times I had 
before then."
     "Can we go home now?" Morales said, collapsing on the 
bench beside her.  He looked positively awful.  "I have nothing 
left to give."
     "This is all becoming quite boring," Q said.  "How long is 
spinning around on rides supposed to be entertaining?"
     "Usually, until you're too tired to do it anymore," Jones said.
     "But I'm Q.  I don't get tired."
     "And I'm not getting on anything else," Morales said.  "If 
you even suggest it, Jones, I'll have you court martialed when we 
get back to Waystation."
     "I was only trying to help,"Jones said.
     "You aren't succeeding."
     "Now this is more like it," Q said. 
     "Like what?" Morales said.
     "Entertaining.  Finally, you two atom-brains are catching on.  
I really should not have let you drag me out here."
     "But we were trying to cheer you up," Jones said.
     "Impossible, but you can distract me by giving me something 
to watch," Q said.
     "I really don't like the sound of this," Morales said.
     "What do you want to watch us do?" Jones said.
     "Anything but sit around talking to me.  That's not 
interesting.  There's no drama there.  I require diversion."
     "How about a nice hike in the woods of Relhanis Two?" 
Jones said hopefully.  "They're supposed to be lovely this time 
of year."
     "No no no.  I have something entirely different in mind," Q 
said.  With a quick wave of his hand, all three of them vanished 
from the snack bar.

     The icy Atlantic water was up to Bradley and Leximas' 
thighs as the Grecin continued its assault on the door to the 
lounge.  The door frame was twisting and groaning, moments 
away from busting in.
     "That thing's only going to be after you, right?" Bradley said.
     "Yes.  It can only be programmed with one target."
     "Great, get under the benches," Bradley said, pushing 
Leximas toward the pile of benches and chairs he'd constructed 
to stay out of the water.
     "This is gallant but futile, Mister Dillon"
     "Would you just shut up for once and do what I ask?"
     "As you wish," the guru said, ducking down into the water to 
get under the pile of wood.  Bradley steeled himself to face the 
hideous monster trying to enter the room.  He wasn't quite sure 
what he was going to do.  Somehow he doubted that it would come 
in, see Lexi wasn't there, then leave quietly, but he was not 
about to just let it charge in and kill her.
     A moment later, the door busted off its hinges and flew past 
Bradley, colliding violently with the back wall of the tilting room.  
The Grecin, a six-foot tall orange mass of muscle and fangs stalked 
slowly into the room, looking around for its prey.  It was like a bald 
ape with a skin condition.
     "Leximas," it growled almost incomprehensibly.
     "Say again?" Bradley said, trying to approximate a British 
accent.  Not that the creature would probably care.
     "Leximas."
     "Christmas?  No, not for another eight months I'm afraid.  I 
am frightfully grateful to you for letting me out of here, though.  
I thought I was going to freeze or drown."
     "No Leximas?"
     "Are you saying Leximas?  Never heard of the chap," 
Bradley said.  "Try down the hall."
     The Grecin sniffed the air gradually focusing on the pile of 
benches.  It waded slowly over to the pile, seemingly unaware that 
it was standing naked in freezing water.
     "Oh do stay away from that," Bradley said, rushing over to 
the pile.  "It's quite unstable."
     The Grecin rammed its fist into the pile, attempting to grab 
whatever was inside.  Bradley feared for the worst, but the Grecin 
didn't latch onto anything.  It growled angrily.
     Out of the corner of his eye, Bradley noticed some movement 
near the door.  Leximas slowly stood up in the water and motioned 
for him to follow her.  She must have swam under the pile to get to 
the door. 
     Suddenly, the Grecin whirled around and spotted its target.
     "Leximas!"
     "Oh no you don't!" Bradley said, pushing on the wood pile.  
The heavy stack of benches and chairs collapsed on top of the 
angry creature as Bradley raced toward the door, the water getting 
shallower and shallower as he went.
     "Let's get moving!" he shouted, grabbing Leximas' arm and 
dragging her toward the dry stern of the Titanic.  Behind them, 
he heard wood cracking and splintering as the Grecin busted its 
way out of the avalanche of seats.
     "I believe that a way to the upper decks is a vital priority 
right now," Leximas said.
     "No kidding," Bradley said.  "I think I've got an idea, 
though."

     "Now that was pleasant," Lieutenant Porter said softly as he 
regained consciousness.  He was lying on a bed, a position he decided 
to stay in after an attempt to stand up caused every muscle and bone in 
his body to scream at him.
     "Stay still," Dr. Nelson's voice said from beside him.  Porter 
opened his eyes and struggled to focus.  His surroundings were a 
blur, but he could tell they were very bland.  Way too bland for his 
liking.  He had a sinking feeling he knew where he was.
     Finally, his vision cleared up totally and, as Dr. Nelson 
helped him to sit up, he took a look aro