Her eyes narrow. She presses her com. "Yar to Bridge."

Nothing.

She tries again.

Still nothing.

Q.

"I'm sorry, but until we get this sorted out, I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to Sickbay." The tone in her voice makes it clear this is not a request.

Sickbay is close by, will definately have communication lines open to somewhere, a roster of crew and passangers, and - well, if something is wrong with her, they'd have the best chance of sorting it out.