A/N: I wrote this chapter while watching Swamp Thing and listening to Hannah Montana. Needless to say, I was deeply influenced by this and there is clear evidence of both in the following chapter. Haha, just kidding. About the evidence. Swamp Thing is a really bad movie, by the way.

Dr. Beverly Crusher glanced around the observation lounge at the Enterprise's senior staff. They were all looking at her expectantly, which was reasonable, considering she had, in a hysterical fit, claimed that she knew how to cure Romulan Necrotizing Myocarditis.

"Here goes nothing," Beverly thought to herself before delving into an explanation.

"As you all know, RNM, Romulan Necrotizing Myocarditis, is a type of heart infection. The exact nature of which is… yet to be determined. What we know is only what autopsies and failed attempts at treatment have told us," Beverly paused, gauging her peers' reactions.

"And what, exactly, have they told us?" Captain Picard asked after the pause grew into a silence.

"We know that the infection centrals in the right atrium, around the sinoatrial node. The pacemaker," Beverly clarified for a few of the crew members. "Um, we also know that it's resistant to every antibiotic known to the Federation, or at least all that we have access to; it accumulates in the bloodstream, so heart transplant is out of the question; and," she added with a small triumphant grin, " the longer the infection lasts, the slower the EKG, the slower the progression of the Myocarditis."

While Beverly was waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, the room stared blankly at her. All except for Lieutenant Commander Data, who was clearly processing the information with a confused look on his face.

"So, you're suggesting… what are you suggesting?" Commander Riker asked, confused, after a brief moment.

"Well, the bacterium, Romulus Vurillin stredoccus, manifests around the sinoatrial node and grows in symbiosis with the heart beat. Also, there hasn't been a single doctor or research facility that has been able grow the bacteria in an artificial organ, agar solution, or even a Petri dish!" Beverly exclaimed.

"Ah," Data suddenly grasped onto the strings Beverly was tossing out, "the sinoatrial node."

"Yes! The bacterium feeds off of the nerve impulses, not the muscle of the heart! It's the only answer that explains how four-hundred and nineteen years of research turned up with nothing: they were looking in the wrong place!"

"Is there a treatment?" Picard looked up, his voice wavering ever-so-slightly.

"If my theory is correct, most likely extracorporeal circulation," she glimpsed at her crew members, "heart bypass."

-

"I want the pumps cleaned, changed, checked every hour on the hour. I want everyone on antibiotics of every shape and kind. Be prepared for open heart surgery, defibrillators, even CPR, should it be needed. I'm going to need extra pumps, hundreds of extras. Nobody sleeps, nobody eats until every single patient is stable. Everyone is sedated; everyone has a CPB. Rogers, I sure hope you know what you're doing! Will somebody get me something to drink?"

"Beverly, if you don't calm down, I have a strange feeling you're going to need a CPB," Counselor Deanna Troi smiled, handing Dr. Crusher a glass of water.

"What? I've never known stress to cause cardiopulmonary failure to a degree that would require open heart—" Beverly stopped, seeing the look on Deanna's face. "Oh, you were joking."

Deanna just grinned before turning to the complete chaos that was sickbay. Her grin turned into a grimace as she looked up at Beverly.

"How long?"

"Days, most likely weeks. It really depends on how far along the RNM has gotten. And if this is the right treatment."

"You said it yourself: it's the only explanation that makes sense."

"That doesn't mean it's going to work, but we're running out of options."

"You're going to keep them sedated for weeks?"

"We'll probably resort to drug-induced comas for the bad cases," Beverly sighed. "We'll have the last of them out in a month, tops."

"If this is the right treatment," Deanna hinted.

"Let's hope."

-

Wesley, Tyler, and Gloria rushed into Counselor Lars Gallo's office, nearly startling him enough to make him fall out of his chair. Gallo couldn't even collect himself before the hysterics began.

Gallo heard the words "Romulan," "invasion," and "Atrox," but couldn't catch much of anything else. All three cadets were talking over each other and getting absolutely nothing across.

"Guys… hey, guys—Cadets!"

The three stopped instantly and stood at attention, looking a little ashamed.

"Now," Gallo sighed, "Do you have three have anything to discuss with me?"

"We know that the invasion threat is real," Gloria stated simply after exchanging glances with her classmates.

At that, Gallo let out a hearty laugh and wondered incredulously, "You guys came all the way down here and made all that noise about that Romulan invasion rumor?"

"We know that it's not a rumor. I heard Professor Sutok and Atrox arguing about it!" Wesley claimed, not fazed from Gallo's laughter.

"Arguing about what?" Gallo chuckled, but with a nervous glint in his eyes.

"About who was to blame for the 'subspace interference,'" Tyler said, staring down Gallo.

"But we have a feeling it was more than just subspace interference," Wesley continued.

"So, you came all the way down here and made all that noise because of a feeling?" Gallo still laughed, but his eyes still had a glint.

"There's no way they would argue like that over a rumor. They were accusing each other of planning a Romulan invasion!" Wesley exclaimed.

"What? Atrox would never do something like that! He's one of the persons responsible for identifying the interference!" Gallo looked up, surprised.

"Hah! So the threat is real!" Tyler grinned, feeling accomplished.

"If Atrox identified it, then it could be because he created it, maybe as a distraction for a real message?" Gloria wondered, thinking up possibilities.

"No, listen. Atrox is helping us. He's the person trying to find out what the interference was. And you three don't know what you're talking about. The invasion is a rumor, nothing more. It was just a possibility suggested by our more paranoid staff members. Now, I really think you should go enjoy you're weekend. Nothing is going on," Gallo reassured, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

"Can I hear it? The interference," Wesley asked just as his peers were about to give in and leave.

"Well, I've dealt with Romulans before, on the Enterprise. And I've identified messages in subspace before. I just want to help," Wesley added after seeing the look on Gallo's face.

"I, uh, am not sure that's appropriate—"

"I know I can help! Just let me listen to it. Granted, it's been a while, but I've done this before! What harm can come out of it?"

"I'll send a request to Admiral Hahn, but I can't make any guarantees," Gallo reasoned. "It may take some time, but I guess I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Counselor Gallo," Wesley said, determined. "I won't let you down."

-

"So, what do we do now?" Tyler asked as the three looked amongst each other in the hallway.

"I guess we wait and see," Wesley sighed.

"Not so fast," Gloria grinned, "We may not be able to listen to the interference right now, but the Academy computer has tons of information on Romulans."

"So?" Tyler wondered.

"We research," Gloria stated simply.

"Ugh," Tyler groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead. Gloria never joked about studying; His weekend was shot.

A/N: Ooh, plot. Isn't it great? So, did any of you see the new Harry Potter movie? Damn, Alan Rickman is an awesome actor. They managed to catch that guy who plays Draco in a really awkward pubertal stage. I mean, all tall and skinny. And what was with the black blazers? Who raided Johnny Cash's wardrobe?

Hey, do you feel like reviewing, maybe? It only takes three and a half seconds to type 'It was good.' I'm serious; that is all I ask.