[There's a short silence, slightly awkward; she's trying to gather her thoughts, which is a little off. She would've taken care of that first.]

I have been aboard this ship for more than eleven months; it's time for me to return home. [Another pause.] Mister Dawsey, I will return before long. I'm certain there are unassigned wardens you may approach, should you need anything while I am absent.

Lieutenant Uhura, if I may ask a favor?

Mister Ryan, I have the clothes I borrowed cleaned and ready to be returned. Mister Banner, [Because I'm assuming she was wearing some awesome purple shorts on day two or something] I have yours as well. Is the box still outside your door for them to be returned to?

[Private to Sam]

Are you available?

[She sounds an awful lot like someone who just left this ship. And while T'Pol's trying very hard to keep that voice neutral, this kind of really hurts. But hiding is illogical, so it's time to stop moping. Not that she was moping.]

I am in need of clothes that fit, until this is over. Is anyone willing to accommodate me?

[If she sounds anything less than neutral, it's because she read his file, oh God.] Dexter Morgan. I believe we've yet to speak. I am T'Pol, your new warden. We should meet.

[Private]

Severus has graduated and returned as a warden. I have been assigned a new inmate already - a murderer that I find more difficult to understand than a wizard.

I have not returned home. I would expect the Admiral to inform me if he has filled our bargain - and if he has not returned Trip--

I wouldn't know what to say to Captain Archer if I return only to leave again.

[Warden Filter]

Of those of you that are here because of an agreement with the admiral, how many of you have seen the terms of that agreement fulfilled?

[T'Pol accidentally hit her journal on. That she's moving at all while asleep is full of wtfery. There's a sharply indrawn breath as she wakes, then quiet but audible breathing, quicker than normal. Her heart's pounding away and you can hear her reaction to it.]

What--

[Oh, she's noticed the PADD; there's some rustling as she grabs it, silence as she briefly checks out other nightmare entries. When she speaks again, it's with an effort to sound calmer.]

Others have been having strange dreams, I see. But is not - normal - for Vulcans to...dream. Not after meditating. And it would seem unnatural for so many to have such dreams - nightmares at relatively the same moment.

In approximately a century, Vulcan will be destroyed. I will - assuming I am not on Vulcan at the time - become part of an endangered species.

[All of this is spoken matter-of-factly, very Vulcan and logical.]

Trip-- [Here she falters and goes silent for a moment. When she starts again, that logical tone is back, but balanced by some underlying emotion.]

Seven years ago, the Xindi launched a probe particle beam weapon that cut across Earth from Florida, through Cuba, to Venezuela. Seven million humans were killed. I believe I understand something of their-- [She cuts herself off again.]

I have seen fluid time lines before; it is possible that I will not see Vulcan eradicated in mine. Now, more than ever-- Nevertheless, in some time line, Eridani will still have one planet absent in its rotation.

Ten thousand--

I find myself wanting pecan pie.

There is a certain frustration in waiting. I recall mention of a library aboard; does it contain historical texts from the various universes occupants are from?