Ensign Burgundy didn’t look quite as usual when he entered the Science
Department of the USS Maine on that particular day. The lumbering walk was a little off;
considerably less lumbering than usual. Also, he emitted no grumbling
and spent no time at all glaring at everyone he passed.
While odd, this did not alarm anyone at first.
Meanwhile, in the Ensign's quarters, someone looking exactly like Ensign
Burgundy was getting ready for bed. He lumbered over to the replicator
and ordered a thick, durable cotton pyjamas. While it materialised he
muttered and grumbled, swearing at officers who weren’t present.
While the Burgundy in his quarters was lying down on his bed, focusing
his breathing and slowing down bodily processes, the one in the Science
Department was attending a daily briefing. The latter was asked a few
questions, all of which were replied to with nonsensical queries,
delivered with a tone that could be considered sarcastic. Or stupid. For
example, when the Chief Science Officer asked about the status of the
Petri dishes set the day before the not-quite-himself Ensign Burgundy
snorted non-committally and answered "Yeah, what is the status of the Petri dishes?"
The meeting proceeded, although the level of irritation was palpable at
this point in time. Still, nobody had quite caught on to what was
happening.
A light started blinking on a console in Sickbay. This was something
that had not been included in the plan that was currently in motion. The
orderly who checked it immediately called a doctor over, who proceeded
to call Ensign Burgundy.
“Ensign Burgundy, this is Dr Aberknack. Are you currently feeling okay?”
A staff meeting full of officers turned to the Ensign, who tapped his
comm badge and said, rather theatrically, “I don’t know, are you feeling okay?”
Now, some level of suspicion was awakening among the assembled
scientists. Most of all with the Chief Science Officer, who inquired the
doctor in question about what was going on.
“Our scanners are indicating that Ensign Burgundy’s life signs are dropping, Sir. Rapidly,” was the reply given.
“Your life signs are dropping,” said the Ensign who didn’t quite look like usual.
The conference room was quiet. Everyone stared at the Ensign. The Ensign
did absolutely nothing. Not even, the Chief Science Officer noticed
after a while, blink. Commander Drooq had seen a lot in his days, and
the look on his face conveyed that this, too, would be analysed and
explained. He rose slowly and walked around the long table towards the
Ensign. “Dr Aberknack,” he asked, “Where is Ensign Burgundy located
according to internal sensors?”
“In his quarters, Sir.”
At that precise location, the person – the real Ensign Burgundy, as it
were – had just stopped breathing. His body was now covered in a thin
calcium shell. His pulse had slowed and weakened so much as to be
indiscernible.
In the Science Department conference room, Commander Drooq reached out
and removed the comm badge from the imposter, who swiftly faded out of
existence as he did so. On the back of the comm badge the Chief Science
Officer found a simple holo emitter. He sighed. “Dr, I think you better
beam Ensign Burgundy to Sickbay. I’ll go see the Captain about a
transfer...”