Lieutenant Dhae’s official log, officially mandated entry, stardate [REDACTED]: my activities are within the norm and the parameters thereof are within reason.

Once the force-field had been efficiently removed by the Vulcan security officer, things improved markedly. She and Sakar went to free Chief Jibolranki, whose mood turned from deep irritation to deep concern; in the meantime Dhae found the replicator and got the amount of drug they needed. Sakar had been clear that they needed two point three seven kilograms, but Dhae, in his Romulan wisdom, knew that the scientifically adequate amount was the correct amount plus twenty per cent: add oh point four seven kilograms, the amount was two point eight oh kilograms. Simple.

The biolab, being nicely stocked, also had hyposprays. Dhae loaded two with an additional cartridge of acetodestroteraphtalbenzoic acid and joined the others.

In the biocontainment unit, Chief Jibolranki was being freed by Ensign T’Vylin. He had been tied with ropes which had left red marks.

“Friggin ropes” he was commenting. “Where does one even find ropes on a starship.”

Sakar was standing beside them. “I’d like to schedule a meeting with you to discuss this experience, Chief.”

“Ah sure I guess” said the Xirrimite. He had an odd, flaky white skin, and black liquid eyes.

“How long does one need for the effects of the drug to be perceivable?” asked him Dhae.

The Chief looked embarrassed. “A couple of minutes, I reckon. I can’t be precise because I was mighty pissed and I reckon that might have skewed the results.”

Dhae nodded and injected himself with a dose. He was in control of his paranoia, but there was no point in testing fate. He looked at the two Vulcans. “I guess you don’t need any.”

“It would be illogical to refuse” said Sakar, volunteering his neck. T’Vylin followed suit, and Dhae got them both.

Dhae looked at the Vulcan security officer. “Your arrival was very fortuitous, Ensign” he said.

“Not at all” said she. “As the crisis started I was monitoring the security feeds. I became aware of you as you left Counselor Sakar’s office, as the visual feed wasn’t blocked. I interpreted your body language as signifying that you had a plan, and I interpolated your likely destination as this laboratory.”

“That was a good use of logics” approved Sakar.

“I appreciate you saying that” replied T’Vylin, and Dhae wondered if Vulcan interactions ever got warmer than this perfectly unemotional sharing of appreciation. “I tried to remove the force-field remotely but the lockdown on computer systems is almost complete. I predicted that you’d need my help.”

“It was adequate” said Sakar.

Jibrolranki was doing some stretching. “What do we do now?”

“We need to get to the atmospheric control and diffuse the acetodestroteraphtalbenzoic acid” said Dhae. “That said, diffusing a heavy particle like this would need some very precise use of the atmospheric systems.”

Sakar nodded. “Would you have the skill required?”

“My Starfleet career is one week old” said Dhae. “Was this a Romulan ship, I’d have no issue.”

Sakar raised an eyebrow; he looked at Jibolranki and T’Vylin, who gave no sign, and said: “It seems we need to recruit an engineer.”

Dhae smiled. He knew just the person. He said it.

Both Sakar and T’Vylin had protested that Dhae’s choice of engineer as illogical.

“I’m being perfectly logical” replied Dhae, a bit miffed.

“And perfect logics led you to decide that your boyfriend, a transporter expert, is the ideal choice to operate the atmospheric systems” said, quietly, Sakar.

“He is certainly qualified enough. I expect that any engineer is.”

“Granted” agreed T’Vylin. “The logics in his selection still eludes me. The responsible for the atmospheric system, or the chief engineer, are more reasonable choices.”

Dhae raised his finger. “But we do not know where they are, right? Iskander did call me and tell me he was going to our quarters. Do you know where the chief engineer is? Plus, isn’t she a Klingon? Do we want to confront a Klingon driven insane by paranoia? Iskander is probably just being morose and sad. At most he’s booby-trapped the door.”

The two Vulcans looked at each other. “While your selection of Lieutenant al-Kwaritzmi still strikes as not entirely rational” pondered finally Sakar, “the reasons you offer are compelling. Time is of the essence and we can find the Lieutenant in your quarters.”

Dhae felt a bit victorious. “Well, there you go. I have irrational motives, you have rational motives, and we agree to go and fetch Iskander. I’m happy with that.”

And they moved out of the biolab.