Tehm pinched the bridge of his nose, focusing on the sensation of his nails digging into his skin. He winced, a fleeting feeling of hope rushing through him, only to be immediately defeated as a heavy yawn rocked him moments later. He was exhausted – a combination of unusual dreams and an early call with the Captain leaving him rattled.

He pulled himself up straight, both arms stretching out over his chair, and for the hundredth time this morning tried to will himself more awake. His eyes focused straight ahead, the kaleidoscope of space rushing past the viewscreen as the Gilroy began its warp towards Starbase 80.

Tehm noticed, suddenly, that the viewscreen seemed different. Wider, yes, and taller too. The wall that held it now seemed less gray and more black. More imposing. He blinked furiously, a wave of nausea coming over him. When he returned his gaze to the viewscreen, however, it was still foreign. Tehm looked around him, searching for clues, and found himself even more lost.

The bridge was now at least twice as large, with larger and more numerous officer stations filling the bigger space. The lights were darker, too, and, most alarming of all, Tehm was now sitting center stage. He glanced over at what was his seat – that of the first officer – and noted an unknown Andorian female sitting there, a serious look about her. He felt a surge of respect for this woman whom he didn’t know, her name on the tip of his tongue.

Tehm stood up, slowly turning full circle to take in the new bridge – his bridge – that he now found himself in. It felt modern. Impressive. Powerful. As he spun, each crew member – all simultaneously known and unknown to him – seemed to pause what they were doing and lock eyes with him before nodding. Feelings of both respect and familiarity swelled up inside him.

A voice, distorted like an echo, interrupted him. It came again, slightly clearer, and he was now certain that someone was calling for him. “Commander,” said the voice.

‘But that wasn’t right,‘ he thought. ‘It’s Captain.’

“Commander,” came the voice again, soft but stern. He felt a wave of nausea and he stumbled. Shutting his eyes and reaching out for something – anything – to maintain balance, he felt himself fall into someone.

“Tehm, are you alright?” said the same voice, revealing itself to be that of Captain Sands. The shorter man’s face was full of concern as his hands gripped tightly around Tehm. “Commander?”

The Gilroy’s bridge was back, small and compact. Tehm looked around, seeking out any sign of the impressive place he just was. But it was gone.

“Excuse me, Captain,” Tehm found himself saying. “Just… lost my balance,” he said. “Tired, I think.”

Sands released Tehm, though the look of concern only strengthened on his face. “Should you go to Sickbay?” he asked.

“No, no,” snapped Tehm, quickly. “Not necessary. But perhaps I’ll retreat to my quarters early, with your permission. I’ll prepare for my meeting with Ashworthy,” he said.

Sands straightened up at that, his face shifting to a frown. “Go easy on him, Commander. Crew discipline is certainly your domain – I don’t doubt that. But he’s a good officer – I just think he makes it a bit hard to see.”

“Am I dismissed, sir?” asked Tehm, shortly, more focused on saving the fleeting vision in his mind than retorting about the communications officer.

“Yes, of course, whatever you need,” replied the Captain, who stepped aside as Tehm moved to the turbolift.

Tucked inside the private walls of the lift, Tehm let out a string of curses as he rubbed at his face. He was overwhelmed, that much was certain, and he needed to record his thoughts. When the doors of the lift opened, he broke into a brisk walk that quickly evolved into a sprint, rushing to his quarters and pinging the door to open.

He half-hoped it would be the quarters from his latest dream, the ones full of guests and decor, that were large and felt permanent.

They were, instead, the empty quarters of his current assignment. He stood in the doorway for a minute, searching for any detail of the dream. He even tried to remember the taste on his lips that had first woken him – sweet and strong. But it was fading.

Eventually, he pulled himself away from the entrance and towards his office chair. He dropped into it, feelings of exhaustion rolling over him, and found himself staring at his reflection from the LCARS computer on his desk.

Finally, minutes later, he ordered the computer to alert him when Lieutenant Ashworthy came up onto this deck and allowed himself to close his eyes, hoping for a new dream.