Stardate 52013.4

     Lt. Kalamarina strolled fiercely up a corridor until she reached a 
holodeck.  Seeing someone walking by, she passed the holodeck and turned around
only when no one was around.  "Computer, run program Kalamarina-Broccoli 117."
     "Program already running." the computer responded.  The Lieutenant 
remembered she had left the program active before her shift.
     "By the blood of Kahless I'm stupid as a Targ!  Computer, has anyone been
in here since I left?"
     "Negative."
     Feeling lucky, Kalamarina walked into the holodeck where a recreation of 
an Enterprise Lieutenant waited, specifically at the time of his intellectual 
enhancement from an intergalactic species.
     "Hey, Broccoli, I need you to design a Viceroy class deflector dish to 
meet these standards."  She tossed him a PADD with the specs.  The hologram 
picked it up and nervously glanced at them.
     "These are against regulations, Lt." he replied, "You can't override the 
safety protocols without the computer automatically alerting the chief of the 
interstellar science department and the security officer."
     "Well, there's no problem because I am the chief of that department and 
the security chief is currently worried about much worse things.  Can it be 
done?" 
     "I don't understand why you would want to set up the deflector dish to 
covertly monitor temporal disturbances in known space at increasing distances.
This isn't a typical Starfleet profile."
     "Look, Broccoli, most Starfleet personnel aren't typically born before 
they're conceived, so spare me the regs, okay?  Whatever caused my being thrown
into the past happened in known space which we're moving away from.  The reason
it's covert is because no commanding officer in his right mind would approve 
something like this.  Now can it be done?"
     The hologram shook his head.  "A Viceroy class deflector dish simply 
doesn't have enough transmission bandwidth for a beam of this scale."
     Kalamarina's hands began to shake as it sunk it that the schematics she'd
been working on for three weeks wouldn't work.
     "You know, Broccoli, you and I are going to work on this again and again 
until I figure out how I got thrown back in time.  But we failed again.  Now 
you know that I do something to you every time you let me down."
     "Oh no, not again!"  Broccoli ran for the holodeck exit, then stopped to 
remember he wasn't real.
     "Computer," Kalamarina said coldly, "give me a bat'leth."  
     It appeared in her hands and she smoothly strolled up to the shrieking 
Broccoli and cracked his skull in half.  As the bloody hologram fell to the 
floor she replicated some gagh and Vulcan Tea spiked with Romulan Ale and 
dined on the chopped vegetable's imaginary corpse, wondering why in the name 
of sweet Sto-Vo-Kor that she had accepted assignment to a ship headed in the 
wrong direction.