Chapter Text
Your PADD almost falls out of your hand.
“Ensign, I need you to follow me. And by following me, I mean it. Quit being so slow,” Barclay tells you hastily and rushes through the corridor.
“Lieutenant, please… Maybe you could walk a little slower? I mean, are we really in such a rush?”
Barclay turns. Only to jump repeatedly into the air while grinning, “We can always do more, Ensign. That is what I am trying to teach you here. That is what I need you to understand. If you are really interested in holo technology, get into it. Like, get really deep into it. Consume it. Grasp it, make it your thing,” he rambles while walking backwards now.
“Sir, I am really trying but when you move so fast, I can’t concentrate. You make me a little nervous to be honest,” you gasp. A little out of breath.
Barclay chuckles and shakes his head, “Stop it with the Sir. Call me Reg. I need you to call me Reg. You need to get into holo technology with me. I need your full attention. Quit your job in the arboretum. Only do this now. If you can’t focus, make it your focus.”
“Sir…” You pause and breathe, still walking down the corridor with him, “I mean Reg… I want to learn more about holodecks but… aren’t we checking some replicators on the upper decks today?” You frown.
When someone passes behind you, even apologizing for almost bumping into you, your PADD now really falls to the ground.
“Ensign, Ensign, I need you to stay with me here. Get on my level. I need you to do the replicators by yourself. I need to focus on the holodecks. When you are done with the replicators, you can join me in holodeck 1. We need to get into this. I need to train you before your promotion.”
“I am not sure I…” you look down at the floor. Beside your PADD, that is still lying there. You being too shaky to pick it up, you find a small piece of ripped fabric.
You lean down and pick both PADD and fabric up. You frown at it. Your eyes blinking rapidly. Today it is hard to focus them.
“I need to do so much. I will check the holodecks, do the rest of the replicators and go over some modifications,” Barclay rambles.
And then he is already running away.
While you sit there, staring at the small piece of fabric, “Was that a uniform?” you mutter to yourself.
“Ensign?” you hear a voice behind you.
You flinch. Almost falling over again. Suddenly an idea pops into your head: You really need to hide in a vent. How about that?
When you turn and shakily stand, you find your therapist, wrapped in what seems to be at least five blankets at once.
“Counselor,” you nod at Deanna Troi.
“Is everything a-a—alright with you?” She shakes.
“Are you alright, Counselor?” you frown and eye her. Standing there in all the blankets. Still seeming to shudder.
“I am coming down with something. Or someone played around with the environmental controls. I don’t know,” she mutters and hides her nose under the blanket now.
You let the piece of cloth slip into your pocket and straighten, “I am alright. But Lieutenant Barclay is a little hyperactive today,” you tell her with a furrowed brow.
“Oh, you must know by now that he gets like that sometimes,” she waves you off.
Then she sniffles.
Her eyes close, “Is it brighter than normal?” she croaks.
“Yes, right?” you frown up at the ceiling, “I think I will go to Main Engineering soon and check on that.”
“Do that. I need a bath,” Deanna mutters and passes you.
You watch her leave. Once you think you see her gasp for air.
Your PADD tells you that you are needed on the bridge. Of course not as a bridge officer, you are merely an engineering ensign and a botanist, but someone needs to look at the replicator in the ready room.
So you walk to the next turbolift, take it up to the turbolift that will bring you to Deck 1, and standing in it, you think to yourself.
You try to go over your plans for the day.
Now you sheepishly look around. You suck your lip, look to the floor and try to pull off something of the turbolift.
That is until you realize what you are doing.
“Oh god. What is wrong with me?” you breathe.
Perhaps Data being gone is straining your psyche more than you thought.
Or it might be the fact that you still think the kittens will come while you are at work. And Barclay? It’s not like he can care for a pregnant cat when he is rambling and jumping constantly.
Spot needs quiet now. That is what Doctor Crusher told Data and you.
And you try to be quiet for her. To help her. But the facts are the facts: Spot won’t let you touch her. And Barclay is better with her.
The turbolift doors open to a stacked bridge. You don’t know most of the officers and when someone else sits in Data’s seat, your heart aches for a moment.
“En-sign,” you hear someone grunt and stand up from the captain’s chair.
“Commander,” you nod at Riker, “I am here to… uh… look at the replicator in the ready… room,” you stutter.
Because while you have talked, Riker walked over to you.
He looks you over. Glaring down.
“You… You… clear?”
“Sir?” you croak and frown up.
He takes one step closer.
So you take three steps back.
Riker grunts.
“Re-Re—”
“Replicator?” you guess in a whisper.
You feel your eyes aren’t able to focus again. You blink. And blink. But the light on the bridge is just too bright.
Commander Riker makes another noise. Probably indicating frustration. Then he slams his fist into the wall beside him and yells out.
You stare, wide-eyed.
Since when are your eyes so wide?
“Re-Repair,” he snaps then and points down the ramp. Where the ready room is.
You nod hastily and feel your body move in a way you don’t think it ever has. You crouch down. And in this ducked position you hurry toward the ready room.
Riker follows.
He stands behind you now.
Uf, you think, when was the last time this guy had a sonic shower?
He grunts and slams his hand on the panel of the ready room’s door so hard it almost breaks.
You flinch.
Duck down once more.
The door opens and you step inside.
You look back and blink at Riker.
He just frowns at you. Then grunts and turns.
Alright. You will do this without him, it seems.
When the doors close, the first thing you do is turn off the lights.
Instantly you sigh with relief.
You walk over to the replicator and go into the diagnostic menu.
Repair replicator, your mind tells you.
But then something else joins: More small pieces of fabric.
You need more of those. Desperately. What would you do without them? They are very important to you.
So you close the menu and tap the voice command button.
“Twenty pieces of cloth,” you whisper.
The replicator beeps.
Then it synthesizes a neat pile of the pieces.
More though. You really need more.
This is the most important.
“More, please. Make it fifty and a bag for all of it,” you tell the device and take the synthesized pieces from the tray. Hastily pressing them to your chest. No one can have these. Those are yours now.
But then you hear the beep of interrupted joy.
You groan.
Right. You actually need to fix this thing so it can make you more nice cloth pieces.
Where is Data again? Why isn’t Data here? You need Data for this. He could help you carry those cloth pieces. They are very important after all.
You let the cloth pieces fall to the ground and hastily go to the diagnostic menu.
But… your eyes. The light. It hurts so much.
You whimper and rub your eyes with your fists.
Also since when has standing up been so hard? You need to crouch down.
And also: you finally get Barclay. Because you need to move. You need to move so much.
And since when has the replicator screen been so high up?
You whine and slam your fist against the screen.
“Make me cloth pieces,” you croak. Urgently.
You just want your little pieces of fabric here. Is that really too much to ask?
It can’t be.
You whimper and slump down to the floor.
You can’t concentrate. Outside is so loud. You are scared of Riker and you need to carry those pieces out of here.
Then it hits you: There are other replicators, aren’t there? Ones that do work. Ones that can give you more pieces of fabric? As many as you want?
So all you need to do is flee.
Not through the bridge. You can’t go over the bridge again. Light, people and some of them might want your cloth.
So your very wide eyes look up at the ceiling.
Your beloved vents. Those are very safe. At least for now. They might not be. You need to be careful.
So you take the chair, climb onto the desk of the captain to test your plan, hop down, take your cloth pieces and climb back up.
Leave the PADD, you think. PADD is not important. Cloth pieces are. You need to get those to safety.
And where is Data by the way? You really need Data.
You unscrew the panel with your wrench, let both cover and wrench fall to the ground and throw your pieces of cloth upward.
A few won’t stay up there so you unzip your jacket, bind it to a bag and put all your precious little fabric pieces into it.
Then you swing yourself with one arm up into the vent.
Climbing is really fun, it runs through your head.
More climbing and more fabric pieces.
Where can you climb?
You crawl through the tight space of the vent. Looking for somewhere to climb up higher, to get more pieces and find Data.
Your eyes frequently look down to check some decks.
You spend a lot of time scurrying through the vents. Like a rodent.
You get Barclay today. You really get him.
But although you would like to tell him about this epiphany, the one that you two are so similar, you cannot. Because he will steal your fabric.
And you have something important to do with this.
When looking down you suddenly sniff someone you know. Not Data though.
You sniff through the hatch and then want to yell out Vrena’s name. Make her look up. Make her tell you where you can climb and hide your nest.
Uh, pieces of fabric.
But when you open your mouth a sound you have never before heard from yourself escapes it. Something between a cackle and a clicking.
So you instead slam your hand on the hatch.
Beneath you, the Andorian’s antennae twitch. When she looks up, she shows you her teeth and makes a loud, very scary noise.
You flinch, whimper and scurry on.
Searching for something to climb on.
After another eternity of hurrying through the vents you see something below that piques your interest. It makes your ears twitch and your nostrils sniff downward.
It seems to be something that does not only have opportunities to climb in but also food.
So you loosen the hatch, put your bag over your shoulder and swing down.
Your feet land on top of a branch.
You cackle and click, searching through the leaves of the tree. You find a fruit and stuff it into your mouth after sniffing it. Then you take some of the leaves into your hand.
Nest or food?
You try to eat them.
Then you hiss and let your teeth show.
Not good. So this will be nest.
But there is this thought in your head: that something is still missing.
You don’t know what.
Or was it a who?