Dawson woke with a start in his chambers. He was in a cold sweat and couldn’t remember how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was discussing the plan to deal with the cloaked Romulan Ship, and then… nothing. He stumbled out of his quarters, the light of the hallway a jarring shock from the dark interior of his room. He had to find Kastarak. He had to know what happened.

The crew he passed all gave him strange looks, either from his unkempt and wild appearance, as he was in his night clothes rather than his uniform, or from seeing him at all. Each face made Dawson wonder How long? How long was I gone? He reached Kastarak’s office and rang the chime. His mind was swimming from the mental strain. It was all too much. Something pushed at Dawson’s consciousness. Something important. Something hidden - stolen from him. He started banging on Kastarak’s door, needing the Vulcan to answer. To give him answers.

He could feel his mind threatening to burst open, like a newly stitched wound opening up from excessive strain. What would happen when these stitches popped? What would bleed out from his lost memories? How would he heal a scar of the mind?

He continued to bang on the door, hoping, praying, begging for it to open.

Lt. Q Dawson