Captain Storvik had already made arrangements in advance to schedule the USS Murgatroid's departure from Starbase 668. For whatever reason, the station's officers always gave the Murgatroid priority for departure, assigning them the earliest possible slot in the queue. Thus, their departure expedited, they had already cut the umbilical to the station and turned onto their exit vector when Lieutenant Heavens alerted the Vulcan captain: "Sir, we are receiving a high priority communication from Starbase 668."

"I'll take it in my ready room," Storvik replied, standing up and turning over the command chair to the nearest Mib Khan. "Continue departure. Do not alter the planned course without my direct orders." He walked through a door into the tiny room which Counsellor Lothar referred to as his "ready closet."

"Captain Storvik," began station commander Mason Gallaway immediately, "it has been brought to my attention that you are leaving Brother Lothar behind. We will not stand for—"

"Brother Lothar is not a member of my crew," the Vulcan interrupted, and saw the Betazoid on the screen nod to the commander. This was the first time he had ever been subjected to an empathic lie detector on this station; but it did not bode well for future visits. Then again, neither would the presence of Brother Lothar on the station. "Nor," Storvik continued, "am I under any orders to confine or control him in any way."

"But you can't leave him here!" pleaded Galloway.

"Does he pose a threat to the station or the lives of the people therein?" Storvik asked, eyebrow akimbo.

"Well, no, not as such," stammered Galloway, recalling the two occasions in which he had been subjected to hugs from Counsellor Lothar's mirror-universe analog. "But still—"

Whatever else the commander was going to say was cut off as the Murgatroid's cloaking device engaged, all communications and emissions were shut down, and the ship went into warp. "It is fortunate that I became aware of the Betazoid before I claimed that Brother Lothar was not my responsibility," mused Storvik to himself, "as that would not have been technically true. I am partially responsible for his presence in this universe, as he was instrumental in Evil Storvik and I escaping from the ISS Murgatroid."

He returned to the bridge, ready to give the crew the good news. He had not yet informed any of them of Brother Lothar's absence from the ship.

Very shortly after Storvik sicced Brother Lothar on Captain Wong, she ceased her complaints and gladly (and quickly) accepted Starfleet's recall order to leave Starbase 668 on the Ankh. Since then, Brother Lothar had been spending most of his time exploring the starbase, and generating a great deal of confusion amongst its inhabitants. Whereas they certainly preferred Brother Lothar's endless hugs to Counsellor Lothar's rapid violence, they still did their best to avoid him whenever possible … but avoided filing any protests with the USS Murgatroid, for fear that Brother Lothar would be recalled and replaced with Counsellor Lothar.

Meanwhile, as Storvik continued overseeing the repairs on the Murgatroid, he started to hear rumors that Counsellor Lothar had converted to transvesticism and Islam. The Vulcan knew better than to seek clarification of these rumors; he knew that he would eventually learn the truth … whether he chose to or not.

After my conversation with Diziara, I agreed to give her a copy of the video file containing Evil Storvik and Ryan Vincent's "tryst" in exchange for her … "discretion" in the matter. Even though I am still not fully certain as to why she, a female, should have been so desirous of obtaining a video file containing only men – that would be as illogical as if males were to be interested in watching females have sex with each other, and any sort of fetish like that would have to be rare. In any event, my subtle appeal to her honor (reminding her that "Evil" Storvik had recently assisted her) served to seal the agreement.

What I said to Vincent was also true. Normally, the privacy concerns of "Evil" Storvik would not be of interest to me. However, circumstances dictate that my husband and I will be sharing his company for the foreseeable future, as the two of them have "fathered" a child together (apt and accurate terminology for their situation does not exist, given the gender assumptions inherent in the language), and that Storvik is acting as a form of "probationary officer" toward "Evil" Storvik – My husband's analog is still finding his place in this universe, and my husband is offering him assistance while simultaneously making certain that "Evil" Storvik does not return to his former Imperial ways. The fact that my possession of the video gives me additional leverage over "Evil" Storvik is merely a serendipitous side effect.

In any event, my duties as quartermaster have me in Starbase 668's docking area near the USS Murgatroid, checking her supplies and seeing to replenishment where possible and necessary. Diziara will be coming by at some point today, on her way to the USS Takeda Shingen's berth. I have the video file in my PADD, and I will transfer it to her when I see her.

USS Murgatroid

Starbase 668's

Storvik…

(How many of them are there now?)

Lothar…

(At least there's only one of him!)

(Peanuts don't explode.)

(Boring!)

Mib Khan

Brother Lothar.

(Another one? Oh @#$%!)

T'Vit's eyes barely touched the menu before she placed her order. "I shall have a bowl of plomeek soup followed by unseasoned steamed vegetables served over white rice," she announced.

"I shall try the jook with a thousand-year-old egg, please," T'Sorvik said to Wade.

"A thousand-year-old egg?" T'Vit asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's not actually a thousand-year-old egg," the little girl replied, giving no sign that she had never heard of the dish ten minutes ago. "That is simply the name of the dish."

"Terran?" T'Vit asked, since such an illogical name for a dish could have come from few societies. Had the name included the word "blood", she would have assumed it was Klingon.

"Of course," T'Sorvik replied, in the manner of a Vulcan much older than the little girl appeared. One person in the bar (the blonde lady at whom T'Sorvik had grinned) knew it was at least partially an act.

After their orders had been placed and Wade departed, T'Vit looked over at the bar. Ryan Vincent was standing behind it, wiping a glass clean. There was no need for him to do so, as there existed machines to wash the glasses for him (and others to replicate clean glasses should he run out); but it seemed to be an age-old tradition that bartenders either wiped the glasses and surfaces of their bar or spoke in a supportive manner to the patrons in between filling out orders for potent potables.

T'Vit indicated nonverbally to T'Sorvik that she remain in the booth, and approached the bar. "Mister Vincent?" she asked. When he nodded, she introduced herself. "I am T'Vit, wife of Storvik."

Ryan dropped the glass, which shattered on the floor.

After Lothar drank all of the liquor which I had purchased before bringing him back to my quarters, he attempted to sit up. This seemed to cause him great difficulty; my tricorder confirmed that he was still registering a weight of one point nine nine three metric tons. Without his internal augmentations coming on-line to reduce his weight, or increase his strength, he was practically helpless. This was a rare state for Lothar to be in, and he knew it. "Sleep now, more booze in morning," he groaned. "Don't let Wong find me." With that, he passed out. I set the tricorder down next to him, and programmed it to emit an audible alarm should his status change.

I tried to contact sickbay to speak with Mib Khan, but the EMH answered my call. "I'm sorry, but Doctor Khan is not currently available," the hologram told me. "He is fully occupied attempting to get his cloning systems back up and running. He has been working on this non-stop since he heard that Lothar was on the station. There have been some difficulties; he was only able to create three new Khans before the system went down, and now all of their hands are full."

"Tell him," I replied, "that Lothar is not currently a threat. In fact, he appears to be having serious problems of his own." I attached my tricorder logs to the transmission, and then cut the connection.

I locked the door to my quarters, and instructed the room to admit only T'Vit, T'Sorvik, or Khan. I then proceeded to meditate – I needed to rest, as tomorrow would be a long and busy day once the USS Murgatroid arrived, but I preferred not to sleep. In meditation, I would be quicker to react if anyone entered the suite, if Lothar awoke, or the tricorder alarm chimed.