[4thdimension]

Admiral Jean Luc Picard rolled away from the scorching deck plating towards the smoldering carpet. He estimated the temperature to be beyond one hundred and twenty degrees. Heat stroke was imminent, and more pressing was the fact that Odo had become a bubbling pile of protoplasm on the deck, golden tentacles jetting outward and falling back again. Picard reasoned that it must be several hundred degrees hotter on the other side of the forcefield he'd managed to erect through a clever combination of the Hirogen plasma rifle, the Vorta Visor, and the federation tricorder. Picard didn't know how long the Ambassador could survive that heat, but he knew that he himself did not have long. While the impromptu forcefield generator protected him from the primary blast of heat, the temperature was creeping up in his small section of bridge, already he felt unconsciousness threatening.