Waddling back into the cabin, Anna stretched her back out and felt it crack violently all the way down her spine. She leaned against the wall next to the replicator and ordered a peach tea. As it materialised she frowned. "Since when has tea been purple?" she huffed. When she sniffed it, it was foul so she dumbed it unceremoniously in the reclimator.

Biobed two was on the blink, the lights in Main Sick Bay were doing the Macarena, and the last time she'd scanned herself it had told her she was about to give birth to two Gorn, a Pakled and two sheep. Slumping down onto the sofa, she sighed heavily. She pulled a blanket off the back, snuggled down and tried to fall asleep. It smelled of Mac, making her smile as she drifted off.

An annoying bleeping sounded, startling her from a dream of a sheep and a Gorn dancing the tango. Blinking a few times, she slid unceremoniously off the couch and trudged over to the comm-unit. The screen flickered a few times once she hit the accept button, a dark eyed, dark tanned man finally resolved on it.

"Lieutenant Sussanna McEntire?" the soft, Native American voice asked.

"That's me," she nodded, noting his Chief Petty Officer pips. "What can I do for you Chief?"

The face saddened as he said, "My name is Matthew Swiftwind, ma'am. I have the..." the screen frazzled for a moment and then refocussed on the Chief again, "to inform you of the..." again it lost cohesion, his voice squealing for a moment and then the screen went blank.

Staring at it, Anna tried to reply but couldn't find the code nor the signal for any outgoing calls. He hadn't looked happy, he had seriously not looked happy. What could have happened? It sounded like someone had been hurt. But who?