Curse of The Banshee: Guinness, Brawls & 'Riverdancing'

by ALM_Voyager

"A Banshee?!" Tom scoffed, "Ugh! Harry, I can tell you right now it's a slight glitch in the system. Don't worry about it!"

"No, it isn't! Would you stop interrupting me and let me finish the story! It just get weirder and weirder," Harry sighed and continued. "You should've seen Michael Sullivan . . . it was if he had . . . . . ."

" . . . seen the face of hell itself! I tell you all, I've seen death!" He cradled his head and let loose a long breath, "and it be comin' for me."

"Surely you're mistaken Michael-boy," one of the pub-goers called out from the small crowd that was huddled around the small form of the bartender.

"No, I'm not. The banshee comes for me at night, her wail growing louder and louder. Why if it wasn't for Shameus knocking on my door last night I might surely have been gone by morning-time," he shouted.

Harry edged through the crowd smiling at familiar faces, "Michael. Did you actually see this Banshee?"

"No, I just heard it -- and to think, so close to St. Patrick's Day . . . what will I tell Katie?" He practically sobbed.

"Perhaps it's the . . ." Harry started.

"You think me mad, don't you Harry. Well then MAD I BE!" He slammed his fist down on the table. Hell hath no furry like an Irishman.

"I hate to bring up old tales," Colleen stated as she rested a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder, "but that Tom Paris was in here again, yestereve, fiddling with one of your space doohickeys" she stated.

"Aye," came a few agreements.

"Oh hell," Harry frowned, "Michael, I'll take care of this. Don't worry about the Banshee anymore," he stated in a rush and ran out the door. 'I'm going to kill him' Harry thought to himself.

"Which led me here to you," Harry stated with an accusing glare.

"Hey I have a perfectly good explanation," Tom held up his hands in innocence, "the Captain ordered me there. I had to repair *one* of the subroutines to the butcher and that's all I did."

Harry sat there for a moment and thought, "The strange thing was when I checked for a banshee character added to the program there was no trance of one -- no trace of even the deletion of such a character. So if someone did tamper with it they knew what they were doing."

"Or they had a rather high clearance level," Tom's eyebrows raised at the suggestion. "What about Michael?"

"Checked out with a clean bill of holographic helth," Harry shrugged. "I'll check on him in the morning. All I know is that if the Captain finds out," Harry winced, "it's going to be a long day on the bridge tomorrow."

"You're in a foul mood today, Captain" Chakotay leaned towards her direction with a small smile.

"I ran out of replicator rations," she pursed her lips. "Had to resort to my sixth year of Neelix-concoctions."

Chakotay winced, "I'll be sure to stay out of your way today." He laughed when she narrowed her brow in his direction.

She broke the ruse and smiled suddenly, "Chakotay, you don't ever have to stay out of my way -- coffee or no coffee."

"Thank you, that's a very kind offer. But I'd rather take my chances with the Borg, Kathryn," he teased with a wink.

"You're so good to me, Commander," she smirked and drummed her fingers on her command chair's armrest. "Five minutes seems like five hours."

"Planning on running off to the holodeck tonight?" Chakotay chuckled.

"Of course! Fair Haven is preparing for St. Patrick's day tomorrow . . . this Irish Lass wouldn't miss it for the world," she stated. "Besides, you've logged ten hours of holodeck time this week Mister! Tell me what you've been up to."

"Sorry can't do that. So, St. Patrick's Day . . . heard of it but never really celebrated it," Chakotay said outloud. "Perhaps I'll join you and the crew -- that is if it's a group event and not a personal one?"

Kathryn laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, "I'll see you there.

CONTINUED IN PART 3!

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