One of Ensign Stroyer’s many skills was that she could be so quiet that she almost blended into her surroundings, and that she spoke so little that people tended to forget she was actually there. She had been accompanying the away team since they left the Valkyrie, but only spoke up once the Andorian and the female Engineer had left for sickbay.

She glanced at Kazansky, and finally spoke up. “Can I make a suggestion, ma’am?”

Glancing at the ensign Lieutenant Taylor Kazansky nodded, “Always, I’m always open to a good idea. Especially now when we’re trying to figure out what’s going on.”

Kazansky had had commanding officers who were open to input from the lower ranks, and those that were not. She’d always preferred to serve under those that were willing to listen and though she was only a lieutenant herslf now, she had made an effort to remain open and responsive to those in the ranks below.

Stroyer glanced at the consoles in front of her, very much aware of the close proximity to the surrounding dead bodies. She had very little interest in sticking around here longer than it was absolutely necessary.

“If we can make copies of the relevant files, we can review them back on the Valkyrie. This ship is… unsettling.”

“That’s a great idea,” Kazansky nodded. Being open, however, did not mean that she had to share her own fears about this ship. She was the Chief of Security, she had to maintain a brave face for morale. Once you had the Chief of Security running around frightened of her own shadow discipline tended to fall apart pretty quickly.

Going over to the nearest computer Kazansky pulled up the files and then blinked. There didn’t seem to be any files, it was all just pictures of her in embarrassing situations on Risa. Turning she put her back to the computer so that Stroyer did not see the images, “It’ll just be a second I need to search for them.”

Kazansky hoped that she could wipe the computer core before anyone saw these, though how would images of her on vacation on a planet she’d never been to have made it onto this ship she’d also never been to or knew anyone aboard? She hoped that Stroyer would step away to let her erase everything.

Naveah noticed. Not the pictures, of course, but she did notice that their Chief Security Officer was acting a little… odd. “What’s wrong?”, she asked, trying to get a look at the console, but didn’t quite manage. For some reason, within only a few seconds, the ship had gotten icily cold. So cold, in fact, that the water molecules in the air began to freeze, letting a soft snow fall upon consoles and fallen crew.

It was nice, Stroyer thought, until she remembered that this was very much impossible. She stretched out her hand, feeling the snowflakes float onto her skin and turn back into liquid.

She shook her head, and furrowed her brows as she looked at Kazansky. She had meant to ask the more experienced woman what she thought about this, when she realised that something else was going on…

“Did you just erase the log files?”

The log files? Kazansky blinked and looked back at the computer screen. A progress bar was running, filling up and below it said ‘deleting files’. The log files, she tried canceling it frantically. That was not good, why was she doing that? It had been photos that she’d been wanting to get rid of, but then those were impossible. No such photos existed.

The bar halted at 40% deleted as the operation was canceled. Forty percent of tens of thousands of files. Which meant that she’d just deleted thousands of files. Perhaps she’d just deleted exactly what they were looking for, the information they had needed.

“Oh no,” Kazansky said, “I thought they were photos. I umm, thought they were off me.”

This was an incredibly hard thing to explain, and she knew that she would rightfully be kicked out of Starfleet for this. She’d just vandalized a ship, and possibly hide the reason its crew was dead.

“Ensign, I don’t know what’s going on,” Kazansky said, feeling lost and afloat. Things that should not be happening were happening. Impossible photos were on the computer. There was only one conclusion. Q!

“It must be Q,” she said nodding, having finally figured it out.

“Q?, really?”, Stroyer asked, her expression betraying that she didn’t quite believe Kazansky. “I thought that was a fairy-tale.”

She frowned, deciding to offer a little more active support in securing the files – mostly because she didn’t want to see more of them ‘accidentally deleted’. She glanced at the other woman, and for the first time noticed a similarity to someone she had met before – but that could hardly be possible. How would a criminal make it to Starfleet? Unless…. unless this was all part of a plan.

What plan that was, she didn’t know. She was however aware that it didn’t make any sense.

“What kind of pictures were they?”, she asked casually.

“Let’s not talk about that,” Kazansky said glancing at the intelligence officer, “I’m downloading the files.”

She did not add the part where she was only downloading those that she had not deleted, it seemed to be too much to point out that she had messed up. That much was likely clear to both women.

“I think something’s messing with our perception,” Kazansky said, the security officer taking the drive with the copied files and promising herself she was not going to smash it no matter what she assumed later was on there.

“I guess it’s probably not Q,” she confessed, “I only brought them up because I’m seeing impossible things. I thought maybe reality was warping. But it may just be my view on reality that’s mixed up. Does that make sense?”

The Ensign nodded. “I think we should find the others and get back to the ship. I don’t like any of this.”

She looked at Kazansky, wondering if the woman agreed… but before the other woman could, Stroyer heard something.

Was there someone crying? Certainly that couldn’t be true – they were alone here. Right?

And then the voice called her name, and the Ensign turned on her heels to sprint into the direction of the noise.