[snip]

With a beep the comm call came through and on the tiny desktop for the Captain’s work was done the Commodore came up on the screen. Stones looked confused a moment given the angle, =/\= Uh good morning Captain Glen. Please correct me if I’m wrong but there seems to be a and unexpected angle and room sizing issue on my end. The room appears far smaller then what I recall the Mariner classes briefing room has, and you all look quite uncomfortable. Should I send an emergency engineering team over to fix your communication displays? =/\= He asked.

Cross quickly scribbled something on her Padd and passed it on to Glen ’ Just tell him there is nothing to worry about and get on with whatever he has to say before we go crazy ‘.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Commodore, but if you could make the briefing short,” Glen said. “It’s getting kind of crowded in here and I’m not sure we have room for a long briefing!”

“With that in mind I’d like to get quickly started,” Glen told the Commodore, “While we’ve been waiting, we’ve had a long discussion here already, and the main thing I wanted to ask was what would be considered a successful mission outcome here? Is this a rescue mission? Is it covert reconnaissance? Is it to promote the Federation values and technology? We are uncomfortable with the latter as these people have already made their views known with great clarity and certainty. Trying to buy them with beads and trinkets isn’t going to work. What happens if we find obnoxious or abhorrent practices? We aren’t the Galactic Police Force! The presence of a Federation starship is likely to inflame tensions rather than calm them. And if we find a natural disaster has occurred, or they have been kidnapped or attacked by some undiscovered alien power, we are only a single ship, and a long way from home. A disaster response would be better served by one of the many hospital ships. I have an excellent medical team here, but we have neither the beds, the supplies and equipment, nor the personnel in sufficient quantities to deal with that kind of event. And if we were to get into some kind of military stand-off, it is better to begin that right away with a show of force to intimidate an opponent; showcasing our weapons capabilities, rather than to limp away and tell them we’ll be back. The latter could actually lead to a worse situation if they decided we were easy prey. The only mission which makes any sense here is one of covert reconnaissance, and once again, an intelligence starship would be better equipped for that kind of long-range surveillance work.”

There was a problem with the subspace radio signal again. The image of the Commodore had pixelated and then the sound dropped out. Captain Glen couldn’t be sure if the Commodore had heard what he had said. He messaged NE Bell, the Communication Officer, on the Bridge =/\= Lt., this is an important briefing, can you please do something to strengthen and maintain the subspace signal. We need to get the Commodore back again. =/\=

Meanwhile, Glen didn’t want to worry Miriam, but he did feel like one of his episodes was returning. These had become familiar to the crew now and stemmed from the time that an alien ‘Ancient’ youngster, manifesting as a brain eating worm, had decided to take up occupancy in his head. While it was skilfully removed, clearly something of it had been left behind that did not show up on any scans or tests. From time to time, Glen would experience headaches, sickness, flashbacks and visions, and on two occasions, he had fallen unconscious. He would at least try to make it through this briefing today, but his lack of sleep was probably a contributing cause and he may need to retire to his Quarters.

The Captain couldn’t keep his worsening condition from Faith. His anxiousness at finishing the briefing quickly was a sign. Faith had seen the Captain have these relapses before, and she knew the other tell tale signs - like the way he touched his temple on the left side of his head. She forced a way through the throng to the front of the Ready Room and quietly said, “Your Ancient worm visions are returning… Someone else can do this… You need to rest!”

On hearing Faith’s words Cross was quick to look at the Captain she knew all too well the tell tail signs ‘’ Captain shall I call Hunter to assist you to sickbay? ‘’ the CMO asked ‘’ There’s no need to stay here we’ll tell you everything ,as for the questions we might need to ask don’t worry with all D’H’s present ,not to mention the counsellor we’ll make sure to find out everything there is to know ‘’.

Cross did not expect Faith to mention the ‘Ancient worm ’ considering few knew about it and it was suppose to be classified.

“I wish you would both stop fussing,” Glen replied. “I am the Captain of this ship! I spend my time in that bit at the front. You know, the bit at the top. I need to be the one to speak the Commodore, if we can get him back again, and I’m sure this will pass anyway.” However, Glen knew in his heart that this would not pass quickly. Faith was correct about the signs pointing to this being very likely the reoccurrence of his old problem. Last time it happened he was unconscious for several days.

‘’Up to you Captain ‘’ Cross replied ‘’ If what Faith and I think it is you’ll collapse and end up in sickbay anyway......... so its futile to resist’‘.

Glen knew Miriam was right. He couldn’t argue with what she said. It was far better for them to tell the Commodore that he was ‘indisposed’ and unable to talk to him, than to have him collapse on camera during the briefing. And Glen didn’t need anyone to see that happen; the explanations would require a reveal of classified information, or else the Commodore might decide that he wasn’t fit for service.

Reluctantly he replied, “Okay then! I’ll quietly leave for Sickbay. Just don’t make a scene.”

Cross took out her cell phone and spoke in a calm voice =/\= Hunter , the Captain is on his way to sickbay…its happening again Cross out =/\=.

“I’d be much more comfortable in my own Quarters, but I know that I don’t have a choice,” Glen told her. “You’ll be needing to poke and prod me, but remember, all your scans and tests found no evidence of any disorder last time. Just give me a private cubical down there.” Glen managed to find a way out of the Ready Room. The pain in his temple was getting worse, and was now accompanied by flashing lights and the smell of burnt toast. He didn’t explain anything to the other officers, which must have appeared very odd; his leaving just as Commodore Stones was about to be reconnected.

• Glen, CO