From behind her desk in the Flight Control Office, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox was leaned in close to her computer screen, elbows on the desk. The young red-headed Romulan chief was deep in thought over a project on her screen titled 'The Paris Protocols'.

It was an idea she had begun nursing over a month ago during the mission to the Worldship that required an emergency beam out of First Officer Rita Paris. Dox had watched the security footage of the event from the Hera's main transporter room multiple times. And every time, it filled her with an absolute horror she couldn't ignore.

Every senior officer on the ship was briefed regarding what was referred to as Rita Paris' 'transporter allergy'. But Mnhei'sahe Dox had heard the stories directly from the source. Of a transporter sabotaged by Paris' own father that had essentially killed her, leaving her as non-corporeal energy. Trapped within the warp field of her starship, unable to affect the world or interact with anyone, Paris spent five long years as what was essentially a ghost. While she was eventually recovered, her structure was fundamentally altered by the experience, which made transporting a potentially deadly nightmare for her. Another accident had catapulted her nearly one hundred and thirty years into the future, and into another dimension. The dimension in which she now resided. This dimension.

Her last transport was a more controlled affair, but still a horror show. Lieutenant Sonak, the Hera's Chief Science Officer and Paris' husband, had affixed her with a specialized transponder to boost and clarify her signal as he held her in his arms, but neither were enough. The transport had taken over ten full seconds as Rita felt each molecule pulled from her bit by bit and transformed into energy, then back again. The agony was seen clearly across her face as she emitted the most horrifying wail Dox had ever heard. It was barely recognizable as a human sound, more akin to the shriek of tortured, twisting metal than a scream. To recall it now still brought tears to the young pilot's eyes.

In the few short months that Dox had been serving on the Hera, Rita Paris had become her closest friend and more. Dox thought of the woman as a sister, and she had no intention of letting her endure such an experience again if she could help it. As head of the flight control department, that meant she could.

On her computer were a detailed series of plans and proposals the young pilot had been working on in her spare time for weeks, to be able to evacuate Rita Paris from virtually any given situation without the need for beaming. Of course, most of these plans would involve either herself or her assistant and fellow pilot, Mona Gonadie, to put themselves in potential extreme risk.

That was the part over which Dox suspected that Rita Paris was going to raise an objection. And since any proposal from a department head had to be reviewed by the First Officer, Dox was nervous..

But Mnhei'sahe Dox was pretty much always nervous, so she would push past that to get this done. Saving the file onto a PaDD, she prepared a message to send to the Hera's First Officer requesting a meeting to make a department presentation.

From: LT Mnhei'sahe Dox. Chief Flight Control Officer.

To: CDR Rita Paris. First Officer, U.S.S. Hera.

Re: Time request for in-person review of enhanced and revised emergency crew retrieval protocols, pending executive approval.

After lingering over the message for a while, rewriting and rewording it, Dox girded her proverbial loins and pressed 'send'.

The answer came 13 nerve-wracking minutes later, as Commander Rita Paris strode through the doorway of the Chief Flight Control Officer’s office. “You rang, Miss Dox? I caught your message while I was on my rounds, and as this is a request for a face-to-face, I thought I’d cut to the chase and pop in. Emergency crew retrieval protocols, eh? You have some ideas brewing, Lieutenant?”

As usual, the Commander was in a cheerful good mood, and if it had registered on her that this was primarily about her and her transporter allergy, it didn’t show on her smiling and unconcerned expression.

Standing up from her desk, Dox straightened her uniform tunic and took a calming breath. The young pilot learned on her first day on board that Rita Paris could read through any attempts she made to conceal her emotions better then a Betazoid Poker champ. As such, Dox had stopped trying to conceal her emotions around Paris.

"Yes, Commander. Thank you for making time for me." Mona Gonadie was on bridge duty helming the ship and the two women were alone, but due to the nature of what Dox wanted to propose, she had one extra step to take.

Looking up, Dox spoke to the room. "Computer, privacy please." It was a simplified instruction she had pre-programed that locked the main doors and polarized the large window to the flight deck turning it from clear to a frosted white with a chirp.

"Not trying to be cryptic, Commander. But the nature of this proposal is currently something I've only worked on in private as... well... it directly..." Dox stuttered, a little nervous. "It's about you, Commander."

Nodding her approval at the privacy protocols which she herself had never considered when it had been her office, the anachronistic astronaut crossed the room to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite Dox’ desk. “All right, Miss Dox, what’s on your mind? It’s just you and I here, and… ah, evacuation protocols. Why Lieutenant, are you making plans to dust me off in case of emergency as an alternative to transporting?”

The bemused smile might have been sarcastic, but instead, it was heartfelt. With the last piece of the puzzle in place it was clear that the Commander was touched by the helmsman’s concern.

"Multiple plans and options, Commander." Dox said, sitting back down and turning the screen on her desk to face Paris' seat.

"Lieutenant Sonak and Lieutenant Junior Grade Dael continue to try and find ways to make transporting a safe option, but I'm operating from the position that there simply isn't one, period. As such, I've been collecting a series of evacuation options for different scenarios. Most of these will eventually require consultation with Thex and Ensign Gonadie, but currently I've kept my plans private so as to maintain privacy."

Looking at Paris with a touch of concern that was largely overwhelmed by her focus, Dox continued. "As the Hera currently has none, I've prepared a requisition request for a number of type 15 shuttles as they are currently the smallest shuttles available. Based on scans of the area I've reviewed, a type 15 deployed could have easily made it to your location on the Worldship with more than enough time for a safe evacuation."

Given the formal language, the use of full titles and the stiffness the little lieutenant was expressing, it was clear that the portly pilot was uncomfortable discussing the topic. Paris debated whether to keep it formal or casual, but as she had been called to the meeting and not visa-versa, she followed Dox’ lead on this one and kept it formal. Tapping her way through the options, she nodded thoughtfully.

“It appears you have composed a number of scenarios and plans for a wealth of possibilities, Lieutenant. Well done. What can I do to assist, or is it just my approval for submission to the Captain that you are seeking from this meeting?” While her tone was calm, beads of sweat were still forming on Paris’ brow. While discussing transporting and the various situations in which she tended to find herself were anxiety-inducing, she could keep her cool and discuss this like a responsible executive with dispassionate tones and a clinical perspective. Being married to a Vulcan had its advantages.

But one thing Mnhei'sahe Dox was an expert in even more than flying was anxiety, and she was picking up the signals from her friend and Commander. So she shifted the more formal tone she had taken. "I'm sorry, I know that even discussing this topic is beyond difficult, Commander... Rita."

The junior officer relaxed more in her seat. "But to make all this happen, I will need more help from you then just permission." Then Dox stood up and walked over to the center of the room towards the Holographic emitters. "Computer. Project 'Paris Protocol 2', please."

The lights in the room dimmed as a projection of a wireframe spacecraft appeared. It was massive for a projection but filled only half of the room from floor to ceiling. "I did some research, and during the Reman occupation of Romulus, the Enterprise was engaged with an experimental craft called the Scimitar. During that engagement, two Enterprise officers trapped on the Scimitar took a Reman Scorpion. A small, two person fighter, and successfully navigated the ship through the doors and corridors of the Scimitar to escape."

"That's what inspired this. It's purely theoretical at this point, but it's a two person escape ship. Heavily armored with an emphasis on shielding and maneuverability. Similar sensor pack to our EVA suits for interior ship mapping. A pilot and navigator slash tactical position. No warp capabilities, however. And because of that, this can be beamed as close to your position as is safe for evac."

Dox looked back at Rita as she talked. "Theoretically, this could punch through the hull of the Hera if you needed to get out of a ship in a hurry."

A smile graced the face of the first officer as she considered the sleek and stylish craft. Now came the particulars. “So are you proposing we pick one of these up to have on hand in case of emergency to beam it into the trouble spot, or are you proposing that we build our own Federation version?”

Dox smiled a little in response. "Both, actually. I'm confident that with Captain Telvan's contacts, we could get our hands on a Scorpion. But ultimately, I'd like to construct our own to these specs. This could fit through our doors and corridors. We'd bang around on the cornering, but it's small enough. Plus, ideally one of three people would be flying this. Myself, Mona or you."

Gesturing at the holographic projection to reduce it's size to 50%, Dox changed the projection to remove the ship’s skin to show the cockpit. "I would want to work with you to design the perfect pilot interface."

“Mmmm, I’m a pilot from the days of rocker switches and knobs. Ensign Gonadie would be the ideal candidate to help you design a good piloting interface, although I would be more than happy to offer input and observations and test piloting. Also, never discount the Captain piloting her- she’s a handy pilot as well, and she does get a little hands-on when one of her crew is in trouble,” Paris reminded the chief helmsman. “I’d recommend you install a tractor beam, because sometimes you don’t have time to stop on a rescue. Ideally she should be big enough to accommodate EVA suits, because that sort of rescue might be needed. Aerodynamic for atmospheric flight, and with a little jumper like this, I myself would prefer a stick and throttle. I suppose she’ll need a bit of firepower as well…”

Pausing, Paris laughed merrily, realizing she was contradicting herself. “Okay, maybe the antique does have an idea or two to contribute after all…”

Listening, Dox was taking notes, writing with her fingers through the interactive hologram interface as she put a slight grin on her face. "More than one or two. I've been working on this solo on my spare time for a few weeks, and it's hard to view a project like this from the outside without feedback. And in this instance, your feedback is the most important."

"Put a decent nav computer in her for warp microhops and it'd be damn near teleportation. I'll bet the computers can manage that sort of precision these days, can't they? Can you make a warp core that small?" the golden girl orbited the idea, holding her elbow in one hand and stroking her chin with the other. Looking through the model at the lieutenant, the displaced dame made eye contact with the Romulan firebird.

"All this just to bail me out, because transporters don't agree with the Commander? There's a lot of thought and work here, Miss Dox. I mean, don't get me wrong- I love the idea and I'm excited about it, but you're a little freaked out." Paris paced another step, then two, muttering as ideas occurred to her. "Maybe add some inertial dampener brakes so she can stop on a dime if you are going to be maneuvering in tight quarters. Make them independent with four emitters and you'll be able to pull crazy spins in tight spaces. What brought this all on, if I may ask?"

Looking back at Rita through the Hologram, Dox went slightly rigid. She knew the question was coming but still had been dreading it. She assumed a somewhat forced posture as she responded. "Officially, I consider transporting to represent an unreasonable risk to the health and safety of the ship's First Officer that required additional viable options be made available for safe extraction during dangerous missions where your presence is required. That's what it says on page one of the Proposal document."

Then Dox's shoulders slumped slightly as her face softened. "But... off the record... I know I'm just the flight chief, but I do something at the end of my shift. I read every department report I have clearance to see. And... and I watch every video file attached to those reports."

Biting her lip slightly, Dox let out a light sigh. "I watched the security recordings from the transporter room, Rita. I watched them over a dozen times. It's one thing to hear the stories. To see the fear you try so hard to hide when you talk about it. But... what I saw on that footage. What I heard I never want you to have to be afraid of that again. I can't let you have to go through that... even the idea of that, if there's the slightest thing I can do to prevent it. And in that means building this and flying it through a Borg cube to get you then that's what I'll do."

Taking a breath, Dox's voice trembled slightly as she spoke, but she pushed through with every bit of resolve she had in her. In her mind this wasn't an option. Rita was not going near a transporter if there was anything she could do to stop it.

There was a moment of silence as Paris considered what she'd heard, and the tenor of the voice that had relayed it all. When she spoke, the voice of the throwback officer was low and quiet. "Ah... I'm sorry you had to see that. Now I've traumatized three of my shipmates with my little talent with transporters."

Chuckling mirthlessly, Paris' eyes sought out those of the pilot.

"It used to be everybody knew 'Lieutenant Commander Paris hates beaming' and that was it, and weird things only happened when I beamed sometimes. Like when I ended up in the mirror universe with two gals from this universe, and we had to steal a starship to get home. Or the time when I was visible, but intangible and silent because air wasn't passing over my vocal chords. That time was weird. Or the time I got split into two Ritas, one good, one evil..." As she spoke, Paris tried to make light of the number of traumas that had been visited upon her in transporter rooms. But the quaver in her voice that was a little too close to hysteria belied her attempted calm, and her face was slick with perspiration. Because pressure, danger or life and death situations didn't make Paris sweat- but transporters did.

"But I'm the Commander now, so I can't, I can't let people see me like that, suh-screaming because I can feel it, I can feel it all and it really, really hurts so badly and I just want it to stop but it goes on forever and... and..." Realizing she'd run a little bit into crazy town, Rita stopped to take a deep breath and center herself.

Stepping around the projection to stand in front of Paris, Dox instinctively reached out and grabbed Rita's hands. "No, no. Out there you're the Commander. So just breathe, and look at me."

She didn't know where the words were coming from but she just let them out without concern. "Right here... right now, you're just Rita and I'm just Mnhei'sahe. I wish I could take that pain from you but I can't. I would take every bit of it to take that hurt out of your eyes so you'd never have to be afraid of it again. But I can be here for you like you've been here for me. And I will bust my ass to make sure every molecule of you stays right where it belongs. And in the mean time, it's just us, so you feel however you need to feel."

"Haha!" Paris barked a little laugh, then nodded as she mopped at her nose with the back of her hand, then mopped at her eyes with the palm. "It's... yeah. Thank you... it's kind of gotten worse since I got here, and I worry that... see, it sounds really crazy when you say it out loud, but I'm just so afraid one is going to... that the transporter's going to get me. And if it does, what next? Will I end up a ghost again? Shot 200, 300 years into the future, or the past? In another, different dimension? Halfway across the galaxy? Deep space with no suit? Maybe turned inside out on a transporter pad somewhere?"

It was abundantly clear that the transporter-phobic officer had considered a great number of possibilities of what might happen to her, all of which might have sounded implausible until one listened to her litany of transporter tragedies. Or heard the unearthly soul-shattering banshee scream that echoed eerily throughout the room when she transported.

Nodding her head, and forcing herself to be strong and not cry, Dox looked up into Rita's crystal blue eyes. They were glossy from the emotions welling up inside of Paris' heart. But Dox just stared with a thin smile. "Not gonna happen. Not ever again if we can help it. And even if you did some how get lost again, we would find you. I'm not alone anymore, right? That goes both ways. You end up in another dimension, I'll find a way to be right there to get you. You aren't getting rid of me."

"Yeah," Rita Paris smiled and nodded, while internally she recalled having heard much the same speech from Captain Michael Stuart of the Exeter, and Dr. Lang of the Constitution before him. They too had made much the same promises, but when Rita got lost, she really didn't mess around. Even Sonak could not have found her had she not been able to send him a clue.

But her friend and shipmate was concerned enough about her and her 'little problem' that she had begun work on plans to insure Rita would have options other than beaming. When those moments arrived as the world was falling apart, and the time-tossed temptress that tended to be the eye of the storm needed to get out of danger before she was consumed by it. So this wasn't the time to mention that she had a home here and was happy here, and that her greatest fear was being pulled away from this place and time to be deposited by capricious fate who knows where, when, or in what state.

Instead, now was the time to be gracious. Pull it together, girlie. Comport yourself like an officer she heard the voice of her father inside her mind, long dead and gone, reminding her of both her position and her duty.

"You're a good friend, and a good shipmate to do this for me. They say that if you don't like transporting you shouldn't be in Starfleet," Rita admitted with another rueful chuckle. "But I always was stubborn."

"Hnave..." Dox cursed in Rihan. "You are Starfleet." The young pilot could tell that her words weren't quite as helpful or reassuring as she had hoped as she struggled to find what she wanted to say.

"Sorry..." Dox let out a sad little chuckle. "I'm out of my league here. I'm trying to give a reassuring 'Rita Paris' talk to Rita Paris. Instead..."

Walking over to her desk, she picked up a PADD and held it out for Rita. "... anyway... This is my best reassurance. It's my entire proposal. We talked about two ideas out of the six I've thought of so far. With your permission, I'll begin consulting with Thex and Mona about these ideas and see what we can do together, but I know that this is an extremely personal issue for you and wasn't going to involve anyone else in my plans unless you were comfortable with my doing so."

Then Dox pulled the PaDD up slightly as she thought for a second. "Well, unless you say 'no'. In which case, I'll probably try and figure out how to pull this off anyway and accept the consequences of disobeying an order." The red-headed Romulan smiled. It was as broad as her chubby cheeks would allow but heartfelt.

"I'm pretty stubborn, too. But I'm also really selfish. And I'm not giving you up to this or any other universe." She brought the PaDD back down for Rita to take.

The smile that brought to the first officer's face was genuine, she she packed her demons back into the closet where she kept them most of the time, and refocused on the moment. "Okay, as a friend? Thank you, Mnhei'sahe. Honestly. Sonak and Doc Dael have started studying what's going on with me, but after the last experiment- really, please, don't watch the footage because it will only upset you more, and you probably don't really want to see me like that. So who knows if I'll ever be 'cured' or if I'll spend the rest of my life trying to avoid that infernal contraption."

"But as a friend, it means the world to me that you are so concerned that you've put all of this work into just making sure that the Commander Throwback won't be stuck with no options again in a crisis. I'm... I'm happy here, Dox," Rita admitted, her usual stability pulling itself back together again after her breakdown into anxiety. "I have a home, and friends, and a good career that isn't what it used to be, but whatever is? Life is change, as Sonak says, and he's is here beside me. Losing him taught me a lot about myself, and how much I need him. Just like I need the rest of you."

"Starfleet is strength through diversity, Johnathan Archer said, and it's never been more true than today. The future's on course, and those that came before us would be proud of who we are today." Cocking an eyebrow and offering a slight smirk, Paris resumed pacing slowly about the model. "I can make amazing things happen in the universe, and do immeasurable good... because all of you are here helping me. All of you accomplish amazing things, in part because I am here. Infinite Diversity, Infinite Combinations as the wise man said, and he was right."

"This little project of yours has significant potential for a number of creative applications. Wonder of we could put waldoes on it and then it basically becomes a warp mech suit..." Rita muttered as she eyed the design, upending it nose to the deck so the long cockpit of the modified Scorpion was instead the fore. "Mmmm, limbs would create an enormous amout of drag unless you made them rounded cylindricals, like muscle fibers made of cabling that could respond with the same feedback system as the EVA armor."

Looking up from her spitballing, Paris offered a smile that said 'hold on, I'm rebooting' as she blinked a few times. "Sorry. Just... thank you for this. You're a good friend and a good officer, and I appreciate both in this program. The Paris Protocols... on every level, I like it."

Smiling, Dox was excited to advance her ideas and feverishly adding Rita's own to the mix. "I'm glad. And I think with the minds we can tap into here, we can create something really remarkable."

The young pilot had imagined every scenario that the presentation could have gone wrong and was feeling no small amount of pride at her Commander's praise. But ultimately, praise wasn't what she was doing this for.

"And seriously, you need to stop discounting your ideas. They're amazing." Dox replied with an excited grin. "Stuff I'd have never thought of on my own. IDIC, right?"

The natural compulsion was to deflect, to admit that she was just babbling. After all, Rita generally was not amongst the largest intellects in the room, and her grasp of the technologies around her tended to be basic at best. Thus in technical challenges she generally offered up her ignorance voluntarily. But there was something to be said for free-form association as well, and the one thing Rita Paris did not lack was curiosity and imagination. Nodding, she took the compliment.

"IDIC indeed, Miss Dox," Paris stood straight and tall, folding her hands behind her back. "So you said you had a few more ideas to share? I'd certainly be interested to see them...

The tour hadn't started far, so it was a quick hop, skip and a jump to get to Main Engineering, where currently Rita Paris, First Officer of the Hera was escorting what appeared to be an artificial Vulcan girl on a tour.

"So, here is a marvel of late 24th century engineering, kiddo. Or so they tell me," Rita admitted. All the science she didn't understand- it was just her job five days a week.

The young android suspected that this engine room would look to her like the ones from Aunt Rita's day would look to the Chief Engineer of this ship, but she didn't want to be mean. "Then I hope to learn a lot. I want to be useful, after all."

"That's good. You need a purpose in life..." Rita started then trailed off as a significant thought hit her. "What year are you from again, Miss Mizu?"

"2492?" the young android replied somewhat sheepishly. "I served aboard an older vessel for six years processing research data and working with civilian scientists. Part of my duties included sensor and deflector calibration but I also helped out in engineering now and then."

"Hey, my girl more than a marvel of 24-century engineering. She is the poster girl for marvelous 24-century engineering. " Called Thex from the upper level as she looked down and her friend and the stranger.

"Come on down here, Lieutenant Commander sh'Zoarhi. There's someone I'd like for you to meet, and some work I'd like for you to do," the cheerful commander called to the overhead. "Bring some diagnostic tools and I'll lend you some perspective..."

"As for you," Paris added quietly, "Don't worry. Auntie Rita is brewing up a plan, and I think we might just be able to get you home, little one. Just bear with me here and try not to give away a hundred years of technical improvements," she added with a smile.

" One moment.." The andorian said as she grabbed her tools and with her acrobatic skills made it down to the bottom floor with a few jumps grabs and leaps. " I don't believe we've met ." She said offering her hand to the stranger.

"Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi, may I present Miss Kodria Mizu, a visitor to our ship from the end of the 25th century," Rita figured that summed it up well enough, and gave Thex some context as to just who the android was beyond the physical.

Shaking Thex's hand, Kodria grinned brightly and looked around at all the shiny, well maintained equipment in main engineering. "Everything looks so new and fast!"

"Atta girl," Paris muttered under her breath.

" Well me and my boys take good care of the ship. Most of these parts are from the last refit. " The andorian said with a grin. " Don't...." she began before remember what a certain jellyfish had told her about time travel. " never mind where did a 25th-century android come from?" She asked the pair.

"Apparently she fell through a chronal anomaly in 2492," Paris explained, palms spread upward. "Ended up back here, and was brought to the Section 31 base to be studied. Recently her repair circuits woke her up, she made her way through the Romero-infested complex and got off a distress beacon that got her rescued. So, with all of that said, as you are our resident expert, I'd like you to check her out. She's having some issues, and while I know this isn't your specialty, I was hoping you could make sure she's all right."

" Okay should be simple enough. Let's step into my office it should give us some privacy." The andorian said as she lead the way to her small office. " So is there anything I shouldn't be taking a look at it case it messes up the future?" She asked as she pulled her toolkit from under her desk.

"Well, most of my systems are reporting good recovery so there's no need to check them... But my personality core... It's throwing bad errors and my best guess is 43% functionality... I feel like I'm about eight again rather than the teen equivalent I was before the anomaly." Popping open the access panel on the back of her head, Kodria sat down in one of the chairs so Thex could get to her easier.

"Okay let's take a look." Thex said as she opened up the head. " Well you're definitely more advanced then what I'm used to. Still, most of it is looking like it's Federation tech. Is this a modular replication transducer?" She asked tapping a part.

"Part of my self repair systems. It's working across most of me fine, but the part responsible for my personality core isn't," Explained Kodria, placing one hand on a nearby desk terminal, interfacing with it through her palm, and displaying a series of holographic schematics. "Hence the failures in my personality core..."

Here all this time I just thought she was developmentally challenged. Way to read the situation, genius, Paris looked a bit sheepish. Taking a look at the schematics, they made little to no sense to the throwback officer from the duotronic relay days. "So what can be done for them? Is there a reboot, or a power supply... ah, somebody throw me a bone here, folks?"

" Hum. " Thex said as she looked at the schematics then back to the android. " Could it be possible to create a loop using the reserve polarization circuit to allow your systems to start self repairing? It probably won't do it overnight, but it should be able to slowly start repairs."

Kodria was still interfaced with the desk terminal as she processed and analyzed this information so her simulations flashed rapid-fire across the screen as her systems ran through the option. It only took about fifteen seconds as she completed the workload and resumed the display of her schematics. "If you bypassed the tertiary linkages, I believe that would have a ninety three percent success ratio. It should kickstart the self repair systems of my personality core and begin noticeable repairs immediately. Full restoration is projected to take approximately one half cycle."

" What would happen in the other 7%?" Asked the andorian. " I'd hate to slip up and cause damage we can't fix."

"Six percent chance of nothing, one percent chance of a partial overload in my already damaged personality matrix." Kodria replied in a rather Vulcanesque manner.

" You sure you want me to do this then?" Thex asked the android her voice full of concern.

"Ninety-three percent is pretty good odds, and one in ninety-nine is a risk I'd be willing to take to clear my head," Paris weighed in, then redirected the focus. "Miss Mizu, the decision is yours, of course."

"It's either this or I wait almost a hundred years for Professor Artan to likely do something similar. Please go ahead. I'll shut down what I can just in case." Leaving the schematics up for Thex, Kodria closed her eyes and powered down what she could for safety.

" Okay... let's do this. " Thex said as she picked up a few tools and got to work. She was starting to realize what the doctor must have to do whilst performing brain surgery as she carefully worked her way through the delicate wires and circuits. She was thankful she'd looked at commander Data's schematics back at the academy as they were helping greatly right now. After ten minutes she paused as she completed the repairs. " All right that should be it. Do you want to activate and see if it works?" she asked the android.

After a few moments, the little circuits inside Kodria's head began to light up sequentially and she opened her eyes. "Diagnostics online. All systems nominal with the exception of personality core. Bringing self repair systems online... ..." It was a tense few moments as the young android paused. "Self repair systems online. Personality core at thirty seven percent functionality. Massive fragmentation found. Estimated time to full repair... Point five seven cycles."

She then blinked a few times and smiled up at Rita with a child-like innocence. "Hey, Aunt Rita. Did it go well?"

Smiling down at the android from the future, 'Aunt Rita' felt a swell of pride. "It sounds like it went great, Kodria. Welcome back- seems you'll be catching up as we take that tour. Well done, Chief sh'Zoarhi!" Rita offered a handshake to the hardworking hardware handygal.

" Just doing my job commander. " Thex said feeling very relieved as she wiped her forehead. That had been tough to do. " Would your friend like to see the rest of engineering?" She asked politely.

"I'd love to! Your central chamber uses a single phase dilithium energy conversion system, right?" Kodria was back to her normal cheerful self as she disconnected from the computer, sealed her access panel back up, and hopped out of the chair excitedly. "And your plasma streams from the injectors are a tight beam formation, right?"

A Section 31 base that, upon receiving the signals, apparently 'romeroized' their entire ship's complement intentionally had somehow yielded an android from the future who had connections to the people she met today in a causality loop that would bring her back home after 96 years after touristing in the past. A sweet young life form on an epic journey.

Some days it was really, really good to be in Starfleet.

It was an extremely long night of not really sleeping for Chief Flight Control Officer, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox. Between regularly readjusting the thermostat in her quarters to compensate for a bouncing body temperature and other unspoken activities to try and relax, she had only actually slept for approximately 3 and a half hours, total.

But there was still work to be done. Flight Crew rotations we're in order and the Runabouts Selune and Thor were overdue for an engine overhaul once the Hera arrived at the Terran system for Shore leave in just a few short weeks. So she was up and in the office trying to keep herself buried in her work so as to not think about her very first period at the age of 31 thanks to her recently restored Romulan DNA. Or, more specifically, to avoid thinking about the unwanted side effect of those agressive new hormones.

For the lack of a better term, Mnhei'sahe Dox was impossibly horny. Which was, of course, exasperated by the close proximity of her Miradonian department co-worker and assistant Flight Chief, Mona Gonadie. The brilliantly plumed, avian pilot that Dox had begin to realize she might just be developing a crush for.

"Ensign Gonadie, have you heard back oh how long the Thor and the Selune are going to be out of commission once we're in space dock?" Dox called across the main office to Gonadie who was in her own workshop adjacent from Dox's desk.

"They estimated a week after they get them in, which could take a few days. Plus they'll have to retune the Selune's engines to our stealth profiling after the overhaul. The Thor should be back to us after ten days, but the Selune could take up to two weeks." Mona was bouncing around a holographic wireframe of one of her projects she'd been working on, her miniskirt bouncing along with her as she waved a PaDD and stylus around, making changes and taking notes. "Have you checked the repair roster for the Danu? The manual controls keep needing recalibration and I've been worried about the interface."

But Ensign Gonadie's question hovered in the air for a few seconds as the distracted Chief found herself actively trying to not stare at Mona as she leapt about. After another second, Dox pulled her head up to look at her desktop screen as she quickly called up some files on her screen. "The Danu, yeah. Our Unlucky Lady's problem is it's Chief, I think."

Looking up to make eye contact for only about a half a second before quickly looking back down to her screen , Dox continued. "I've been showing... favoritism to the Danu in flight exercises and the manual controls keep getting adjusted to taste by the pilots on rotation. Then I reset them back to how I like them. But I've scheduled her for a complete system diagnostic and repair while en route to Earth."

"Ah, that makes sense. In that case, I'd like to plump up the control interface so it's better able to handle it and add the ability to preprogram custom presets based on piloting preferences. Shouldn't be too hard." Mona bounced around the holographic model she was working on from one foot to the other as she spoke, trying to remodel a couple of the supports. She then leaned over and looked at it from underneath, forgetting she had on a miniskirt, which flipped it up and exposed her 'tail feathers' in all their glory to Dox.

Keeping her head buried in her computer didn't prevent Dox from noticing the unintentional display of colorful plumage, as she stifled a gasp at the sight.

Standing back up straight, she smoothed the back of her miniskirt back down, trying not to ruffle her feathered behind any more than it already was with the leggings and the miniskirt. "Ahem... Excuse me..."

Any attempt at concealing her attraction hinged on her not letting Mona see how flushed green her cheeks had become. "Excellent. That sounds like a plan, thank you."

Dox turned around in her chair to review on her PaDD so as to not be looking in the direction of the brilliantly plumed Miradonian woman.

"Excellent. I'll start drawing up the modifications immediately." Grabbing a PaDD and writing up a quick authorization form, Mona plopped her plump rear onto her Chief's desk and leaned in with a grin. "Could you sign this authorization form first though? Make it official?"

'Seriously?!' Dox thought as she turned her chair around slowly to the intoxicating sight as she felt a flush of heat run up her body. 'Now she has to messing with me on purpose. She knows what I'm thinking and she's messing with me!

"Uh... of course." Dox leaned forward, her eyes locked on Mona's as she signed the PaDD without looking. She forced a crooked smile on her face as the young officers mind raced.

'There you go. Look at her eyes.' Dox thought, trying to focus on the business at hand and not Mona's voluptuous form sitting before her. 'She is your co-worker and your friend. So just be professional and make eye contact with her deep, Amber eyes like crystal pools of... Imirrhlhhse!!!! What is WRONG with you?! You are a Starfleet officer and in your damn THIRTIES?! You aren't a fourteen year old girl, for pity's sake!'

Darting her eyes away, Dox went back to staring at her display screen, calling up data. "Thank you." She said, as calmly as she could.

Mona grinned wider, knowing exactly what was going on. Any Miradonian with a nose could smell the Lieutenant a deck away. "Thanks, Chief."

Which was the precise moment that Commander Rita Paris entered, a petite Vulcan-esque android accompanying her. Taking in the scene- Mona Gonadie perched on Dox' desk quite close to her, Mnhei'sahe Dox herself looking quite bright green and flustered, the observant officer immediately started putting things together, and plotted her course.

"Good morning, Flight Control! At this point of our tour we'll be visiting the flight deck, which we can all see quite clearly through those floor to ceiling transparent aluminum walls there. Hello, flight crew and pads 11 and 12..."

Upon Paris entering, Dox stood quickly up from her seat to greet the visitors. This of course brought her eye to eye with Mona who was still grinning and staring right back.

Pulling her attention away and extremely grateful for the distraction, Dox straightened her tunic and addressed the visitors. "Commander Paris... How can I help you?"

"Lieutenant Dox, Ensign Gonadie, may I introduce a guest of the Hera, Miss Kodria Mizu who's taking a tour and doing a little sightseeing. She is a guest of the Hera, visiting quite by accident from the end of the 25th century. We're taking a bit of an inspection tour, and the flight deck is always one of those wondrous sights of a starship such as ours, aye?"

Her focus off of Mona and on to ships business, Dox's anxiety lessened just a bit as she stepped forward. "There's no place quite like it on the Hera, Commander. And it's a pleasure to finally meet you under better circumstances, Miss Mizu." The stout pilot held out her hand with an authentic, if still nervous, smile.

Mona stood at the ready, smiling mischievously.

The young android shook Dox's hand gratefully. "It's great to see you again! I missed you too!"

In spite of how distracted Dox was, thinking of Mona standing just out of sight, she cocked her head slightly at the unusual choice of words and the excess of emotion she was reading off of the Android she had only met once and extremely briefly a few days ago. "Uh... thank you."

Then Dox stepped aside, folding her hands behind her back to allow Mona to introduce herself.

The brightly plumed Miradonian stepped forward and shook Kodria's hand next. "Hi, I'm Mona. It's so nice to meet you."

"Hi! It's nice to meet you too!" Kodria was beaming at all the introductions and delighted to see all the cool stuff from this era. "So what kind of flight systems do you use?"

The enthusiasm of the young Android was infectious enough to cut through Dox's distraction for the moment as she went into a brief description. "Well, much of the ship and most of our shuttles use the standard LCARS interface system. However, we also have a Delta class Runabout with a manual control system. But even more interesting is the helm controls on the bridge and a few of the shuttles have a very unique Holographic manual system designed by Mona... Ensign Mona... Ensign Gonadie here." Dox found herself flustered again but pushed through.

Mona was the one to giggle slightly at Dox's discomfort, but otherwise let her go on.

Keeping the descriptions a little loose playing to Kodira's youthful energy, Dox followed up. "Mona's are my favorite systems to fly."

Immediately as the words fell out of her mouth, the color drained completely from her plump cheeks. Squinching her face slightly into an awkward smile and chuckling awkwardly.

Kodria's eyes widened in surprise. "The Mona Gonadie? You were in my history le... I mean... Uh..." Realizing she probably blew it, she clasped her hands behind her back and shuffled her feet a bit. "I really like your flight control systems. They interface well with my analysis programs."

"Well, there was never doubt in my mind that I'd make a mark on history, so there's no point in hiding it." Mona beamed proudly, hands on hips at the young android's slip. "After all, I am the greatest pilot, and to a Miradonian pilot, there is no higher praise than knowing you improved flying for generations to come. But... I know my work isn't finished so I'll keep at it. Thank you, Kodria."

The young Vulacnoid android looked on as the great aviatrix preened proudly, a hint of a grin gracing her features and not sure what to make of what she was seeing. "You're very welcome?"

"If you'd like, We can give you a tour of the Flight deck if you'd like to see it, Miss Mizu." Dox gestured to the massive window leading from the office. "If that's okay, Commander?"

"Okay?" Paris asked with mild incredulity. "It's why we've come. To our friend here, we're living history- like how you view visiting the Exeter. So by all means, I expect the full tour with bells and whistles. Let's show Miss Mizu what an advanced flight deck of a century before her time looks like in action, shall we?"

"Well, until the holodeck put me in the mini skirt uniform, I was really enjoying the Exeter. It was fascinating to see how little the basic functionality of a starship really has changed." Dox recollected their shared experience on the holodeck from a few weeks ago with a slightly less nervous chuckle.

"So, here's hoping our tour isn't too boring for you, Miss Mizu." Dox was happy for the distraction, no matter how strange even if her attention kept floating back to Mona who seemed to be hovering right in the corner of Dox's eyes and just barely brushing the young Romulan's shoulder.

Kodria scrunched up her face in thought as she looked out the window at the shuttles moving to and fro. "Well, the SS Haspatia is a civilian science cruiser commissioned in 2401... Ah... That would mean she's being constructed now, I assume... She has a fly-through flight deck built into a pod lined with sensor platforms. So... Probably not too different. The overall ship design is, I think a variant of the Luna class?"

Mona grinned and spoke somewhat breathily, making sure she tickled the hairs in Dox's ears at least once. "That would save a lot of room in the saucer for labs and equipment. You must be able to keep a lot more experiments going because of that."

"MONA..." Dox exclaimed a bit louder than she intended to at Gonadie's now obvious torments. "...asks a very... uh... Interesting question." Now beyond embarrassed, Dox was fidgeting in place as she tried to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary with a plastered grin as sweat began heading on her forehead.

"Not just yet. The starship that's your home won't be constructed for another five years, Miss Mizu. But here you can see a few of our shuttles and extravehicular craft common to our era. Isn't that so, Miss Gonadie?" Paris called out Mona, who was teasing a little too obviously for Rita's old-fashioned taste.

"Indeed. Most of our craft are state of the art like the Selune and Thor." Mona pointed out the window towards the pair of runabouts that seemed to be constantly prepped for missions. "But most of our smaller craft are more tried and true models like the type 8 and 9 shuttles." This time the brightly plumed Miradonian didn't do anything outwardly to exacerbate her boss's delicate hormonal situation other than just standing next to her grinning as she pointed out the various craft. "Also, down in the lower decks we have a small complement of workbees just in case."

"So, Miss Mizu, is there anything in particular that you'd like to see? Any of the ships of our era?" The Commander asked openly, as she couldn't imagine a ship onboard that was particularly classified.

"Well... I've never seen a type 8 shuttle before... We still use the type 9, unfortunately. I wish we could use the main service shuttles, but being a civilian ship we're about fifty years behind on most of our support craft." Realizing too late how that sounded, Kodria tried to back it up. "I mean uh... Sorry..."

"Not at all. Trust me, as nostalgic as I can be about my own era, those type 8 shuttles were like a punishment for wanting to leave the ship," Rita reminisced. "How DARE you not want to use the transporter! Fine, get in the backbreaker, and be careful stepping in on those nacelles we use for landing gear..."

"We can absolutely show you one of our type 8's." Dox stepped forward and spun back around to face the group while tapping her comm badge. "Dox to MacNielle. We're doing a tour of the bay, please make sure shuttle 79010 dash 6 is clear and prepped, thank you."

After a second, there was a light chirp and a young woman's voice replied. "Aye, Chief. She'll be ready for you." Dox smiled as she tapped her comm to reply. "Thank you, MacNielle."

Facing the group and actively trying to not make eye contact with Mona, Dox clapped her hands together, trying a little too hard to seem relaxed. "So, it sounds like you know your way around a Starship pretty well, Miss Mizu. Nevertheless, if you'll stay behind me for safety, we can head to the shuttle."

"Uh... Ensign, if you would, please hold down the fort for us." Dox addressed Mona Gonadie with an awkward expression, hoping for a few minutes separated from the source of her attraction.

"Not at all, I'm certain the tour would benefit from both of your input and color commentary," Paris observed, gently clapping the Miradonian pilot on the shoulder. "Let's go take a nice brisk walk across the flight deck together, shall we?"

Smiling back with a tight lipped grin that all but psychically projected the thought of, 'Oh, you're BOTH enjoying this, aren't you?', the portly young Romulan pilot instead simply said through a forced smile. "Well then, follow me and we'll get going."

Turning, Dox all but walked into the door from her office to the flight deck before it wooshed open in time to save her from that embarrassment. Once on the deck, the silence of watching the activity from behind glass was replaced with the bustling activity of shuttles taking off and landing and crewmembers moving cargo.

Trying to keep her focus on the tour, Dox waved over towards two of the larger Runabouts. "This is the Selune and the Thor, which you are familiar with, Miss Mizu. Both are being prepared for engine refits at our next destination."

The young android was looking around in awe at everything. "The Thor is an original Gryphon class, right? We have one as well, but it's stripped down and rebuilt for flying into anomalies and gas giants. It's so cool seeing an original one! I wanna touch it!" Without any further warning, Kodria headed straight to the Thor and gingerly placed her fingertips against the aft of the heavily armored runabout in awe.

Immediately, Dox stepped forward towards Kodria which her hand out in concern, but pulled it back. "Oh, be careful walking around here without watching where you're going. It can be dangerous if crewmembers are moving cargo or..."

The anxious pilot found her tension with Mona briefly replaced with a more paternal concern for the young Android who just seemed to engender such behavior from everyone she met. But she caught herself and pulled back slightly, as she felt she was likely over reacting.

Mona sidled up to the overprotective Romulan Lieutenant with a grin. "She kind of makes you want to have kids of your own, doesn't she, boss? Maternal instincts starting to kick in? I know mine are. I'd love to have a little one in the nest about now. There aren't any other Miradonians aboard though..."

At which, Dox's stomach flipped upside down and she felt herself go flush again with both embarrassment and almost uncontrollable arousal. She bit her lip and whispered under her breath in a slightly plaintiff, if sarcastic tone, "You're evil, you know that, right?"

"You need to get laid. You know that, right?" The brightly plumed Miradonian replied with a wink.

Rolling her eyes, Dox did her level best to squash the rushing hormones that were taking the attraction she already had for Mona into the proverbial stratosphere. After a second, she whispered. "You have no idea."

In the meanwhile, the delighted young android was busy here and there all about the runabout, excited and delighted to see an antique piece of technology here in its prime, in perfect condition. As a fan of technology and a touchstone to her past, Kodria was excited to be here, and Paris was keeping an eye on her to insure she didn’t get into any trouble while her piloting senior officers grappled with a condition Rita suspected she understood all too well.

“Shall we move on to see another ship, perhaps the Selune or the Unlucky Lady…?” Paris asked to gently draw a bit of attention to the moment.

Hearing the Commander speak, Dox side stepped away from Mona, who was hovering entirely too close to her for comfort. "That sounds like a great idea. What do you think, Miss Mizu?"

"Mmhmm! Please! I want to see all of..." Kodria paused as her eyes seemed to glass over for a moment and her head slumped forward. After a second, she reached up and gingerly touched her forehead. "Excuse me, I think part of my personality matrix just reset. Now reporting 59% functionality and stabilizing."

The tone change in the young android was a bit odd, but it was definitely still Kodria - she just sounded a bit more mature. She smiled and looked around at those near her. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you. Can we look at more shuttles now?"

Taken aback, Dox quickly glanced at both Commander Paris and Ensign Gonadie before replying with a quizzical head tilted. "Uh... Mildly worried anyway. What just happened? Are you okay?" The young Romulan pilot stepped slightly forward in concern.

"Yeah, just a bit of a reset." Kodria was all smiles again as she looked around at those around her. "My self repair systems are finally hard at work."

"Excellent! A sure sign of improving health," Paris offered good-naturedly. "Let's show her the Unlucky Lady, Miss Dox. The Delta Flyer model is likely quite the antique in her day..."

"Aye, Commander." Dox's concern abated thanks to Paris' assurance that all was well as she stepped in front to lead the group to the Runabout Danu.

Pressing a pad on the side of the shuttles bulkhead, the large hatch slowly hissed as it lowered to allow them entry. With a broad smile, the red-headed Romulan slipped back into tour guide mode. "Now, 'the Unlucky Lady' is by far my favorite Runabout on the Hera. The manual control systems Ensign Gonadie has worked hard to customize are remarkably intuitive and she's the fastest and most maneuverable ship we have. I'm not shy about saying that I really love flying this bird."

"So you love flying birds?" Mona asked with a wink. "The controls in this particular craft were developed by a Paris, however I've been working on customizing them more for our needs."

Her embarrassment was now pushing past the point of her initial discomfort and Dox was getting irritated by the ribbing. Irritated enough to not feel like deflecting the attention as much anymore.

"Absolutely." She replied, staring back at Mona with a slightly sarcastic grin. If there was no point in trying to hide her attraction she was simply going to be direct. At least as direct as was appropriate under the current circumstances, since Kodira was still essentially a child.

Kodria nodded excitedly. "We have a couple of these, but the manual controls and weapons are stripped out and they're just scientific explorers. They're also rather well used and most have been heavily modified. Seeing one like this is amazing."

“From what I’ve been able to gather, the designer wanted a more tactile interface rather than what he deemed ‘pushbutton’ flying. Which I have to agree is a refreshing change of pace, as it handles much more like a primitive aircraft. In turn, that lends her superior maneuverability… plus she’s a whole lot of fun to drive,” Paris commented, forcibly restraining herself from adding to the innuendo. After all, younger minds tended to pick up on such things, and she’d prefer not to corrupt the youth nor embarrass her junior officers.

"I certainly find a tactile interface improves flight performance for me. I'm not a big fan of 'push button flying' myself." Dox added.

"I agree," Mona piped up in a more serious fashion. "The controls can be hard to find on a flat surface in a crisis, unlike with tactile controls, which are easily found with simple fingertips. Thankfully the bridge panels have tactile feedback systems so that's not too big of an issue, but none of our support craft have them. In fact, you can turn the visuals to either a fifteen-degree eye tracking visibility, or completely off, and operate them completely by touch if you had to."

Kodria motioned excitedly with her hands. "That is soooo cool. We just have the standardized LCARS holo-interfaces. I think I saw a few of the first prototypes around this ship. The 3D screens are common here and I've seen a few full-on holo-displays, but yeah that is soooo cool. I can't wait to try it out."

"The LCARS interfaces are very efficient, but I've been insistent that every pilot in the department is trained and beyond proficient with the manual systems." Dox smiled, replying to Kodira. Though she leaned slightly towards Mona as she added, "Operating by touch is a vital skill for a pilot, as I see it."

"The Danu is in need of recalibration right now, but that's because Mona and I are nit-picky with her. But she's well within the specs to take her out for a spin." Dox looked over to Paris for approval with a sincere smile. "If that's okay, Commander."

“I see no reason why not. Miss Mizu, would you like to take a spin in a brand-new antique?” Paris joked. After all, she herself was a perfectly preserved mint condition Starfleet officer circa 2268, and she understood the fascination with the past so many had. Besides, the youngster was sightseeing, and why not let her have a little fun?

"Could I?" The young android was excited for a moment before calming down, a bit of realization hitting her. "But I'm not trained in anything more than basic piloting skills. Which is really odd considering my lineage, but... It is what it is... I could interface with the sensor systems though! I would love to see through this ship's eyes!"

Mona grinned wider. "Well, you happen to have three of the galaxy's finest pilots right here with you."

"And I honestly think it would be a great test of just how intuitive your flight system customizations really are, Mona." Dox added, genuinely sharing in Kodira's enthusiasm enough to get out of her own head.

"I'll get clearance from control and keep an eye on things from here," Mona replied with a soft smile and a brief pat to Dox's shoulder.

Smirking, Dox gestured inside to Kodria with a smile. "While you're doing that, we can run the Pre-flight checklist, then. After you, Miss Mizu."

Happily heading into the runabout, Kodria headed to the science station as usual and tried logging in, which didn't work, of course. "Ah... I don't have a login... I just tried using mine from the future..."

Walking up behind the enthusiastic Android, Dox began the Pre-flight checklist. She entered her own access codes to unlock the station for Kodira. "There you go, Miss Mizu. Full guest system access, until Commander Paris has you in our systems. So, you work the science stations, then?"

The red-headed Romulan was finally processing just what "Android from the future" meant, no longer trying to actively not focus on Mona and figured that was an innocent enough question.

"I do," replied the young android with a smile up at the half Romulan Chief. She then tapped away at the station, familiarizing herself with it before finally resting her palms against the panels and interfacing that way like a tricorder or a PaDD, closing her eyes and running her data analysis systems directly through the sensors. The systems displays could barely keep up with her as she ran through everything the small runabout could offer.

You turn out to be a spy I am going to be very put out... Paris' instinctive protectiveness of the starship Hera was always in her mind, and that mind needed to be suspicious so that something didn't blindside the crew. In the here and now, as she leaned on the hatchway of the 'Unlucky Lady', the kid looked pretty legit. It was probably a violation of the Temporal Prime Directive, but the kid had survived a literal house of horrors to get rescued. It seemed as though the least they could do was give her the opportunity to mingle with personages from her life in the future while they were young, here in the past. Back when Captain Dox was only Lieutenant Dox, for instance.

"Miss Dox, I would appreciate it if you would take Miss Mizu on the vanity tour. No more than a lightyear distant, and have her back within the hour, if you will. I've a bit more tour to take her on, and a few more people for her to meet." Paris offered a wave, then ducked back out of the hatch, sealing it behind her. "A moment of your time, Miss Gonadie..."

Back inside the Runabout, Dox watched as Kodria interfaced with the systems, keeping an eye on her own monitors to make sure the mysterious visitor wasn't accessing any files beyond the operations systems of the Runabout. The guest access automatically shut down the computer access to the HERA's mainframe and was a basic security precaution. Still, Dox was taken aback at how endearing Kodria was and smiled.

"Well, we have the green light from control." Turning back to the helm, Dox entered the egress instructions into the controls. "I'll take us out and clear of the ship for a bit and then you can take the stick. Sound like fun?"

"Mmhmm! It does!" Kodria was getting into it as she processed all the data coming in from the Danu's sensor pallete's. "Do you mind if I optimize these sensors once we get under way?"

As Dox pulled the Unlucky Lady out of the Shuttlebay and into the vastness of space, she brought the Runabout up and over the Hera to give Kodria and herself a view of the Herself as the speed over and into the space past the ship.

Pondering the request Android from the future, Dox turned slightly and squinched her face in a half grin. "While I appreciate the offer, that sounds like the kind of thing that would be potentially dangerous in ways I'm not smart enough to think of, temporally speaking. I mean, an optimization from you might be a technological leap for us decades too soon."

Then, Dox put the ship on autopilot as they hovered, still fairly near the Hera, and turned to face Kodria in her seat. "Thank you for offering, though. We're just about ready for you to take the helm. The system is set to give you a warning if we get close to a light year from the Hera, though."

The anxiois flight chief was starting to feel a little nervous now, not knowing quite what to say. As she thought back to their introduction earlier, Kodria had said with a massive smile, 'It's great to see you again! I missed you too!'

At the time, she was too distracted by Mona to read too far into that and now she was beginning to think about what that mean as they really hadn't met before. Hoping her concerns weren't reading too plainly on her face, Dox stood up from the seat and gestured saying. "She's all yours when you're ready, Miss Mizu."

"Right..." Disconnecting from the station she was at, she opened her eyes and got up, heading to the pilot's seat. Once seated, she tapped at the controls to familiarize herself with them before resting her palms against them and connecting that way. "This is going to be different..."

The shift from the autopilot to Kodria's control wasn't the smoothest, the Delta class runabout doing a hard roll to port before stabilizing. "Ah yeah... I can see everything through the flight sensors. It feels like the flight controls are extensions of my own systems."

Crouching behind the pilots seat and holding on to the bulkhead, Dox lurched slightly as the Danu rolled. Her proverbial 'space legs' keeping her fairly steady as she smiled at Kodria's excitement. "You can see through the sensors? As a pilot, consider me jealous."

"Don't you have that interface that Professor Gonadie... Ah, no not yet..." Kodria again caught herself in spoilers for the future. Sighing heavily, she made a confession. "Trying to remember when I am is hard... By the way... Your pheromone levels have been off the chart and I've been noticing some odd readings from you. I didn't want to say anything in front of the others, but are you ok?"

Sighing with embarrassed, Dox rolled her eyes and sat down in the seat behind the clearly observant Android. "Really? Lovely. Yeah, I'm okay. It's... complicated."

Pausing for a second, Dox reminded herself that Kodria was essentially a child in many respects and didn't want to go into all the embarrassing details of her newly discovered crush on Mona Gonadie. Instead she shifted her focus back the previous statement.

"As for the, uh, 'Professor', she's been developing some amazing pilot interfaces already that I've tried, so It's not a massive shock that she'll eventually crack it. So, don't stress yourself out too much. No harm done. And I can't imagine it's easy for you to not just talk about things that are the past for you."

The young android nodded in agreement as she did a few simple flight maneuvers. "Yeah... Aunt Rita and Maica and mom... They all taught me wonderful things, but most of it was safe. You and the pirates took me to bars and we talked about love and personal stuff so... I think I might be more relaxed around you. If there's anything I can do to help you, I'd like to."

'Okay...' Dox thought to herself. 'I guess the whole Artan Baroness thing works out for me.' But it was likely also more information than she needed to know about their future. Still, if Kodria felt comfortable talking with her, Dox also didn't want to shut her down either.

"I appreciate it, Miss Mizu. And I'm glad you feel relaxed, so I dont want to make you feel like you can't be. So, let's make a deal. You'll do your best to not tell me stuff about your time or what is my own possible future and I'll do my best to forget any slips that happen. Otherwise, we both have to tell your Aunt Rita." Dox's tone was a little playful and friendly as she finished. "Deal?"

Kodria grinned up at Dox happily. "Deal."

Standing before the turbolift on Deck 4, Rita Paris prepped her android tourist for the last stop on the tour. "So... are you ready to see the Bridge and meet the Captain?"

This was the moment Kodria was actually fearing. Meeting the Captain. "Captain Enalia Telvan, right?" Taking a deep breath, she braced herself. She'd heard a lot about the woman in her day and she wasn't sure what to make of most of it. She then nodded, as ready as she figured she'd ever be.

"Herself, in the flesh. Bridge, though- exciting, right? The Captain's usually in her ready room- she handles a lot of very classified data. So we might have a chance for you to see the bridge first." As the turbolift arrived and they entered. the fulsome first officer called out, "Deck 1, the bridge please."

When the doors opened once more, they opened on the blue and grey interior of the bridge of the starship Hera.

When she stepped out of the turbolift, the young android couldn't help but be struck with wonder. Her scans showed that this bridge was filled with tech that shouldn't exist in this era and even this bridge shouldn't be part of a normal Nebula class starship. This was definitely an Intel Science vessel...

Cooing softly, she ran a couple fingertips across one of the nearby panels. Reactive touch stimuli for blind crew? Variable view angle filtration? Full holographic display systems? She could see it all as clear as day - this bridge had the same systems that were commonplace in her day. For the first time since she woke up, she felt like she was home.

Watching the young woman's wonder at the antique bridge, at least to her sensibilities, was heartwarming to the throwback. Softly she asked, "Anything in particular you'd like to see, Miss Mizu?"

"This is almost just like the bridge I know on the Haspatia. The console tech is the same, the layout is similar, the gelato machine is in the same place..." Kodria wandered around in wonder, amazed at how it could be so close, yet so removed in time.

"Perhaps Captain Telvan's designs and choices were ahead of their time, then. I'm afraid I'm a poor judge- it's all the future to me," Rita chuckled, then eyed the young android's expression as she asked the question. "Speaking of which, are you excited to meet the Captain?"

"Nervous and scared, actually. I've heard a lot about her but..." Sighing heavily, there was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to warn them of. She couldn't though, and she knew it. "Ok... I'm ready."

The eyes of the old-fashioned officer narrowed, but there was no help for it. She couldn't ask questions, because if she did, the youngster might just answer. If she did, then she might be damaging her own future. But then again, the future wasn't a concern to Rita Paris- Enalia Telven was. Temporal Prime Directive... her conscience said, but the here and now was her reality. Speaking quietly, Rita broke the rules. "What about the Captain...?"

"Well..." Kodria got a bit evasive at this point, averting her eyes and shuffling her feet a bit. "If you promise not to tell and to not act on it..."

Stepping closer to Rita, she tugged on the taller woman's arm so she could whisper into her ear. "I was told that after some sort of tribulation or tribunal thing, she really wasn't the same person in private... She did find happiness in her daughter though. My mother..."

Stepping back, Kodria clasped her hands behind her back and stared down at her feet. "That's why I'm scared. I don't know who I'll meet and I've never met her before. I've never even met Telvan before..."

Leaning down, Rita whispered in return. "Well, this Captain Telvan hasn't done those things yet. She's a good person, so give her a chance, okay?"

Saying the words and knowing her own planned course of action, Rita wondered just whom the young sentient should be more afraid of, as she tabbed the captain's door chime.

As Kodria nodded, the call to enter came from within and the door slid open, allowing the pair to enter. "Ah, Commander, please come in. Is that our guest from the future? Kodria Mizu, right?" Standing and coming around her desk to greet them, Enalia offered her hand in greeting, which the young android shook out of politeness.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for coming to save me." Kodria was still a bit scared but the smiling face of the Trill woman was definitely not what she was expecting.

"That's what we do," Enalia replied as she motioned towards the replicator. "May I get you something? Tea? Juice? Milk? Brandy? Sorry, I don't know what, or even if, androids drink..."

"How about if we all have a seat, Captain. There are a few things we need to discuss, aye?" Paris offered solicitously, trying to steer the situation. Because it wasn't terribly likely this was going to be a very pleasant duty. Once everyone was seated, Rita began.

"Yes ma'am, Miss Mizu is apparently from the future. Our future, to be precise. I assume you read Miss Dedjoy's report and the subsequent reports you've been receiving. Our visitor here, as delightful as she is, belongs 96 years in the future. Which we might be able to work with and we might be able to keep DTI off our backs, but she is potentially endangering her own existence by interacting with us. And the longer she does so the higher the probability that she's going to alter the timeline irrevocably. Which is generally considered bad, as I understand it."

"So I have a very simple plan to return Miss Mizu to her own time, which I feel should be enacted as soon as possible. For her sake as well as our own." It wasn't Rita's proudest moment, to have to tell the lost kid from another time that she couldn't stay. But the facts were what they were, and she felt she had a responsibility to take care of the young android. This was the best course of action, even if it made her feel like a heel.

"The Temporal Prime Directive, of which even we, in this time, aren't fully aware of all the articles of yet," Enalia confirmed, her expression turning grim. "What's your plan then?"

"Time travel to the past is hard, ma'am. But we're all time traveling into the future," the chronal cosmonaut observed. "I propose that we bring Miss Mizu to Starfleet Command, and let Starfleet Medical put her in stasis for the appropriate amount of time. They can watch and monitor her, and wake her up when there will be no paradox. To her friends and family she will have disappeared, but reappeared on earth. But she will have had quite the adventure in getting home." Stopping to directly address the time displaced android directly, Rita's tone was sad but resigned.

"I'm sorry, Kodria. I would love for you to stay, and I think you would make a wonderful addition to our crew. And I can see that we're all very fond of you already. But you don't belong here, in this time," the ancient astronaut explained. "After all this excitement and change, don't you want to go home, to your friends and family?"

The young android had to nod in admission to that. "I do want to go home..."

"I can't blame you there. Home is where the heart is, after all." Enalia leaned back in her chair and thought it over a moment. "However, since the mission was classified and even your rescue is known only to Intel Command at this point... It might be best to let them handle the stasis. That way they can monitor the timeline and pull you out of stasis at the appropriate time and we don't have to worry about answering uncomfortable questions on any front with Starfleet Command itself. At least until well after the mission data has been declassified, anyway."

"Which will be a little while before you wake up, actually. So, Kodria? It isn't that we aren't glad to see you or that we don't want to spend time with you, but you see why this has to be this way, right?" In truth, Rita Paris had grown more than a little fond of the plucky little android, and she herself wished it could be otherwise. But a lost child needed their own parents, not people who would someday be a part of her life that could be wiped out by interacting with them. At least she hadn't told Rita anything about herself, expect that she was apparently going to be quite long-lived for a human being, which was remarkably surprising to Rita, given her talent for trouble. For now though, she hoped the youngster could see the light, although in truth she was trying to convince herself just as much.

Kodria, for her part, was searching within herself for an answer - literally and figuratively. She was running data analysis matrices as fast as she could, but she wasn't entirely programmed for this sort of thing. Eventually she did come to an answer though. Looking up, she nodded to Aunt Rita and Captain Telvan each in turn. "Yeah, I think that would be for the best. Please give me a little time to let my self repair systems finish first though. It shouldn't take more than a few days to get most of my systems close to where they should be."

"We're en route to Earth, and we'd definitely want you up and running at full speed before we start such a process. So I think it best that you take your time and say your goodbyes before we get there. But don't be too sad- you'll see some of us again when you wake up, right?" Trying to convince the young woman from the future to do the right thing and return to it was feeling harder on Rita than the young artificial life form herself seemed to be taking it. What the hell, Rita, it's not like she's one of your kids...

Which was when it struck her. Aunt Rita. She might not have built her, but it was clear that she'd helped raise her. That's why she felt the bond she did so quickly. That's why letting go was so very hard for Rita. Because Kodria acted like she'd expect one of her own to act. The patterns were all there- it was just that Rita had no children, so of course she didn't recognize the patterns.

Time travel was a bitch to process emotionally, in Rita's ongoing experience.

"Thank you, Aunt Rita. I will." Kodria couldn't help but smile brightly knowing she'd be able to sleep through the intervening years and wake up and see her family as she remembered them again.

Enalia couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in her bosom at the exchange. It felt odd, like she was bleeding, but different... Was this what having children was like? "Well... If that's settled..." Enalia was actually a little off. She'd never had friends growing up and she and her sister had never been allowed to just be children, so being faced with one now... And an android one, at that...

"Indeed, Captain. Kodria will stay with us for the remainder of the ride to Earth, then we'll have Intel put her into stasis, to monitor her and insure she manages to travel back to the future with no troubles. And she'll see us all again someday," Rita smiled, still surprisingly choked up over all of this. "Is there anything you'd like to say to the captain, Miss Mizu?"

"Well... There are a lot of things... Most of them I shouldn't say because of the future..." Kodria stared down at her hands for a moment before looking up at the captain. "But I will say this." Switching to the Trill language, she continued. "We shine brightest during our darkest hour."

Enalia was a bit stunned at those words - they were on her personal Artan pirate coins and few people knew it. Reaching into her desk, she popped open a hidden drawer and pulled one out. After looking it over, she handed it to Kodria. "Wherever you heard that from is right."

The human girl who wasn't up on every language in the Federation- well, really one native language and Federation Standard- realized it was another language, but she still heard the translation. "Okay, I'm going to guess that is significant and that you just bent the rules of time travel just a smidge without breaking them and you certainly look surprised Captain, which isn't your usual default ma'am..." Rita rolled her eyes and sighed. "We have a stop to make along the way to drop off a stowaway, but you'll have five days, give or take, to sightsee and spend time, Kodria. Make the most of them, and try not to give away too many spoilers, eh?"

Kodria flipped the coin over in her fingers a few times, studying it carefully before tucking it away. "Thank you. I'll treasure it always." Standing, she tugged down on her uniform top. "Ok, I'll need to let Asa know. I think I might also write a letter to myself just in case. Thank you."

"You are welcome to stay with Doctor Dael for the rest of the voyage, if you would like, or we can assign you quarters of your own if you would prefer privacy," Paris offered solicitously. "We'll accommodate your needs as best we can while you are here, and we'll see you off back to the future in style." The friendly first officer offered a warm smile, surprised by the undercurrent of tension in the room.

"I'd rather not be alone," replied the young android.

"As you like, Miss Mizu. All right, I think that ends the tour. I hope that you enjoyed it," It was disturbing how quickly things had turned cold with the young android upon meeting the Captain. Maybe it was because she's feeling rejected by you and sent home? She sure as hell knows something about that tribunal, and I'll bet I know what. All in time- for now, focus on the moment, Rita.

Rising, Paris stepped toward the exit, causing the door to open as the explorer awaited her charge.

"Thank you, Captain. I'll never forget meeting you." Kodria bowed slightly and respectfully before following Rita out of the ready room. When they got to the turbolift she finally broke down in tears, leaning against the wall and burying her face in her hands. Slowly she sank to the floor. "She looks so happy now... Please don't let her lose that happiness..."

"Deck 2, please," Paris ordered, then as the lift deposited them on the mostly empty deck, Paris got up under the young android who was not as light as she'd been in EVA armor, and got her up onto her feet, then she got her into Paris' office. Settling her in one of the moderately uncomfortable plastic retro chairs Rita preferred for her office, Rita knelt before the chair. "She kills her mother in the tribunal, doesn't she? She kills her and murders some part of her soul in the process, and she becomes what she's always been afraid of all these years, doesn't she?"

Still crying, Kodria could only nod in affirmation before reaching out for a PaDD. Tapping into it with her palm receptors, she downloaded an image into it of a much older Enalia Telvan in civilian garb standing with Maica looking as young as she was now. Between them was a teen girl that looked like a cross between them. While Maica's smile looked as bright as the sun, Enalia's looked forced, as if she hadn't smiled in decades. Underneath the picture was an obituary article for Enalia Artan/Telvan dated about thirty years from then. This PaDD she dropped into Rita's hands.

Immediately on each of her shoulders a 3cm Rita sprang up- one wearing the green wrapover Mirror Universe uniform, and one wearing her gold 2268 uniform.

You canNOT, you know you are so, SO not supposed to look at that. You should erase that article immediately then explain to-

The kid's bawling her eyes out. That's her grandmother, stupid, and she can't just leave it like this!

The Temporal Prime Directive-

Has never been fully explained to you except as to why you couldn't go back to where you came from, and it's crap. If the Captain's in trouble-

We could be endangering the Captain's future. This one's future! There is a reason that directive exists!

So which matters more to you, Rita? The here and now and the immediate future, or the kid from 96 years from now who's so fraught about this she knows she's endangering her own existence. And she still feels so strongly about it she's doing it anyway? If you think you had a hand in raising her someday, then she knows exactly what she's doing here. The question is, do you respect her enough to trust her, or are you just a rulebook in a miniskirt?

Here's that moment of trust again...

Gravely, Rita read over the article, fully aware that this could very well lead to the end of her Starfleet career. But she was the First Officer of the Hera. If there was harm to her ship or her Captain, it was her duty to interpose, evade or otherwise prevent it from harming her charges. The future could write itself after she headed off calamity.

The article was brief. It listed Maica III 47 and her daughter Moira Artan, a bright young cyberneticist, as surviving family members. Cause of death was voluntary separation from the Symbiont at age 70. A living wake was held a week prior to the transfer as per Trill tradition. The Telvan Symbiont was passed on to one Franco Delb. The picture was taken during that living wake.

"I'll bet I lectured you about this too, didn't I? How you can't change the past just because you want to save someone you love from being hurt, didn't I?" At the nod from the weeping young woman, Paris nodded. "Guess I also taught you to do what was right, and to trust your heart, huh?"

"I'll... I'll do what I can to save your grandmother, Kodria. I'm convinced the universe dumped me here for a reason, in this time, on this starship. I know that, and I know that she needs me, for a lot of reasons. But not the least of which is to reminder her that she's Starfleet, not a pirate... no matter what your great-grandmother may try to drive her to do. I can't promise you that I'll save her from herself- but I can promise you I will do everything in my power to not let that light go out in her eyes." Looking up at the young android Paris managed a rueful smile. "We do what we can with what we have where we are, eh?"

Looking up with hopeful eyes, Kodria smiled and wiped at her tear stained face. Yes, in the future even androids could cry. "Thank you Aunt Rita." With that, she gave the time tossed chrononaut a big hug.

"You little rebel rulebreaker. I'm really going to miss you... it's going to be very hard to wait another 94 years to meet you again, you know that?" Rita was making a bold play at restraining her own tears as she held the petite young woman, with her usual lack of success. The unexpected android had touched her heart quickly, and Rita's feeling for her were practically parental in no time. Making the realization that she could be returned to her own time, thus she should be returned, had been heartbreaking for Rita. But she knew it was the right thing to do, and as always, Rita Paris followed her heart.

Which was why she was now resolved to keep her own counsel in this matter, and wait for the moment in time when she'd be racing with destiny to save the soul of Enalia Telvan.

Thex was still a little confused from her appointment at the doctor's, but was feeling good about it. If everything was okay then she didn't have to worry about having lost twenty years off her life. Now she needed a good drink.

Stepping into ten forward she let out a smile at the sight of Rita sitting at the bar. Walking over she slid onto the barstool next to her. " Hello, Rita. Find anything good amongst the Orion cargo?"

"Spices, apparently all used in brewing exotic alcohols of the galaxy. Aldeberran fire gems encased in a lucite coating invisible to sensors but causes them to appear considerably larger, ergo more valuable." Rita teased as she took a long sip of her dirty martini. "A lot, and I mean a LOT of Orion clothing and junk jewelry. I haven't recycled any of it, and you and whatever dance troupe you've started with your engineers- don't look at me like that, I know what's going on. All of you get dibs. There is a lot of crap, a few holdout weapons and a surprising amount of fragrant dirty laundry, which I assume is to keep the pheromones pumping. So descend upon it like bandits. Oh, and a lot of their hair care products. Looked like they were part of a pyramid marketing scheme, science says it's all clear."

"So that's my good news for you. Whatcha got for me?" Rita fished out the plastic cocktail sword with the three olives speared through it as she preferred, and pointed it comically at her sapphire-skinned bestie.

" Well according to Asa she's found a way to fix my life problem. Hasn't told me how she fixed, but I'll take her word at it. Looks like I dodged a bullet there. " The Andorian girl replied as she ordered an Andorian ale before turning back to Rita with a grin on her face. " Oh and most of the girls who've asked for lessons are from the flight department."

"Really? Go fly girls. Squad name, nailed it. Well, make a senior officer decision, because you literally have enough of this stuff to start your own boutique, which I think was the idea. You've got lots of storage space as well. No cultural artifacts, no reason to lug it through space so keep what you want and the rest goes to matter reclamation," Rita explained, then plucked off an olive with her teeth off the plastic sword in her fingers. Taking a spin around in her chair, she looked around for the security officer on duty at the door, who wasn't at his post. She wasn't even sure she knew where he was in the room, she realized.

"Sexton was a psychopath, the security officers I took with me were amateurs and he's facing charges... French resigned to help him with his case, so Herself has put me in command of Security and Tactical. So hey, I have an excuse to wear gold again," Paris grinned, then picked up her drink for another sip of the delicious yet harmless synthehol.

The news shocked Thex, she hadn't heard anything about French resigning. " Sorry to hear that. I mean on the being sent in with amateurs bit. I know you love your gold uniforms. " The andorian replied taking a sip of her own drink. " Breaking out the old gold mini skirt again?"

"What can I say? It advertises my fish out of water status. I like gold better, I'm old-fashioned and stubborn. It's unique, and it marks me as an anachronism, which I think is not the worst of ideas given my lack of technical proficiency in this day and age," Paris rattled off the reasons why she was switching back, but they were all rationalizations for her just being more comfortable in her old uniform.

"As for the sec/tac boys, the EVA armor is quipped with a full tricorder suite, that projects in the visor as well as the helmet interior. They literally weren't using the heads up displays, the sensors... nothing. It's like they weren't aware of the suit's capacity. So yes, I will definitely be training them and whipping them into shape, because apparently the department fell apart while I was trusting French and Sexton's reports. So looks like I get to go back to my first love, blowing things up with phasers and torpedoes." Nibbling another olive off the cocktail sword, Rita munched for a moment before changing course.

"How's things with the nurse? Still going well, still hunting the third and fourth of your quad?"

" Yup me and Tathaa are still looking for a few more andorians. " The andorian said a she took a drink. " We've also been looking at other ways we could get a few kids. Things is artificial insemination is harder for andorians then it is for humans. " She said glumly.

"Your reproduction is complex, that's for darn sure. I thought you weren't in a hurry to breed, you were just looking not to be lonely anymore?" Rita asked frankly.

" It's just pillow talk with one of my quad. It's an andorian thing due to the pheromones and psychic link we have. I love her Rita, I really do." the andorian said taking another drink before turning to look at her human best friend. " In fact, I'm going to ask her to make it official and do the first part of our peoples marriage ceremony. Would you be willing to be my witness? " She said nervously.

"A witness to your happiness? How could I not. You were my maid of honor, how could I do any less for you? Oh Thex, congratulations!" Some might counsel that it was too soon, they they didn't know one another well enough to make such a commitment. But Rita had known by the third meeting that Sonakl fascinated her and she wanted to know him better. By their fifth meeting, she had resolved to sleep with him, and once she'd done that, she knew she was in love, and had never looked back. If Thex had found the right gal for her, Rita Paris was on board.

"So, what does that entail? Do I need to throw you a bachelorette party or is there an ice fishing challenge or very cold swimming involved?" Rita half-wisecracked, as for all she knew of Andorian rituals, they might involve all three.

" Nothing like that Rita. You'll be happy to find it barely has any ice in it. On the day I'll need you to state that the love I hold for Tathaa is true and hand me locket called a Shapla. Then you'll need to cut a lock of my hair and hand it to me." Thex said with a grin on her face.

"That I can do, and I'm flattered to be a part of your ceremony, Thex. Thank you for the honor- say the time and the place and I'll be there with shears in one hand and a shapla in the other." Rita raised her glass to toast. "Here's to your happiness, my friend. May one become two, then two become four, so that four may produce one."

" Or more than one if we're lucky. " The andorian said raising her own glass. It only then did she notice something very wrong with the scene behind them. Mainly the large wet black horse with red eyes which was standing right behind them a large woven bag in it's mouth. " Um, that wasn't there before was it?" She said as other in the bar began to notice the large mammalian animal that had apparently just appeared from thin air.

"Nope, that's new," Paris replied as she produced a cylinder from inside her top, which then snapped it open to reveal itself as a collapsible PaDD. Checking the roster, she tapped her badge. "Commander Paris to Security Officer Burnside, report to your post."

Meanwhile she rose from her seat to take charge of the situation. Inspecting the hooved mammal, Paris cautiously looked for clues as to why it had appeared suddenly. She had experience with terrestrial horses, but those didn't just appear in 10-Forward. "So what have we here...?

The beast tilted it's head as it examined the two women before letting out a gargled neighing as it dropped the bag before turning and before the whole bars eyes appeared to turn to water and fade into nothingness. " Okay, that was not normal," Thex said as she slid off her chair and walked to the replicator. A few seconds protective gloves and a bag had appeared as she approached the bag. " You think that was a Kelpie? " She said as she moved over to the bag.

"A what now...?" Paris muttered, alerting Science to analyze the sensor logs of what had just happened in 10-Forward as Security Officer Burnside arrived.

"You wanted to see me ma'am? You're Commander Paris, right?" Burnside appeared to be a bit out of breath.

"What was your first clue, the uniform from a museum or the three pips on the collar, crewman. Why were you not at your post?" Paris looked the somewhat doughy young Tellurite in the eye, as she had a few centimeters of height on him.

"I was..." he started to say, then read the hardening in the eagle-eyed executive's expression and changed his mind. "The reclamator, I was, I had to go to the reclamator, ma'am. Commander. Sir."

"Commander or ma'am will do, Mister Burnside. What if I were to tell you that an intruder just appeared in this room within a meter of the first and second officers, dropped off a package of unknown composition or capability, then turned to water, splashed apart and disappeared. Would you say that might constitute a security alert? Should a team be scouring this area, bot in person and using the scanners of the mighty starship on which we serve, logs be searched and reviewed, reports filed, officers in the chain of command to be alerted. As a security professional, is that your porofessional opinion of what should be happening right now?"

The young man, who had followed along with the surprisingly intense conversation, making mental notes as she went along got the opportunity to speak, he nodded. "Yes, yes ma'am, I'm, I'll..."

"You were in the reclamator. Not at your post. Not relieved by another security personnel, because there is only one of you assigned here, which is one thing in this scenario for which you are not at fault. That whole not at you5r post thing- this is an easy duty, isn't it? You eat chicken wings, hang out in the lounge all shift and get to know everybody. And that's good. I'm glad. It sounds like an idyllic assignment. Tomorrow there are going to be three of you. Because if trouble does break out in here, I need more that one sailor in the can on duty. Because when we call for security, as a crew, we really do expect Security to show up and handle it."

"So the next time something like this happens in 10-Forward- because this is Starfleet and things like this happen- I expect a much better showing, Mister Burnside. Am I understood?" Never once had she raised her voice, maintaining a quiet private conversational tone for the stiff upper lipped dressing down she'd just delivered to the security officer on duty. It continued to demonstrate that the Sec/Tac department definitely warranted her attention.

At a curt nod from the Tellurite crewman, Rita turned her attention back to Thex, who'd had some time for analysis now. "So what mystical shenanigans are being played out in 10-Forward this afternoon, Miss sh'Zoarhi?"

" Well...." The andorian said as she placed the bag in the protective case only to find a rather soggy letter attached to it. Reading it the andorians blue eyes read the parchment.

Caraidean tha mi a 'toirt taing dhut airson na rudan agam a thilleadh. Tha mi a 'toirt dhut an tiodhlac seo mar chomharra air mo thaing agus mo charaidean. Tha fios agad gu bheil cuideigin agad ann an Nassania. The note read, which Thex began typing in the scanner to translate.

" Friends, I thank you for the return of my artifacts. I give you this gift as a sign of my thanks and friendship. Know that you have an ally in Nassania." Thex said, reading the translation. " Looks like the ginger girl we encountered was telling the truth. Her sister has sent a gift."

"I feel like there is a joke about looking gift horses in the mouth that belongs here, but I'm just not getting there," Paris admitted. "So what is the gift we've been sent by... Nassania?" Paris typed it into her PaDD to have that translate as Nassania is a Celtic goddess worshiped on Earth in Gaul, in what is now Belgium. She may have been a river goddess. Myth Unknown.

Carefully open the bag inside the protective container the andorian was puzzled as what appeared to be two pieces of what appeared to be fish scales and two jewels fell into the protective bag. " No idea, but I'd like to get it down to engineering for testing."

"Back on the clock, Chief," Paris grabbed the last olive off the cocktail sword, tossed down the rest of her martini and tapped her comm badge. "I need a security detain in 10-Forward to escort Lieutenant Commander sh'Zoarhi to Engineering with a potentially dangerous sample."

"See? This is why we never just grab a nice quiet drink together anymore," Rita laughed, clapping her friend on the shoulder. "It's always something, right?"

" Indeed. I think the universe must like us..." Thex said as she stood up and began to make her way to engineering.

As it turned out, having her first period since getting her Romulan DNA restored had not been the most pleasant week for Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox.

24th century medicine had done a lot to reduce most of the more negative symptoms, but did extremely little to help manage the extremely increased sex drive she had to muscle through over the last few days.

Things were getting back to normal and Dox was beginning to feel more comfortable in her own skin again, but there was still consequences to deal with as a result of her few days off projecting pheromones across the Hera. And one of those consequences was Dox's assistant Flight Control officer, Ensign Mona Gonadie.

For weeks now, Dox had been ignoring a growing attraction to her Miradonian friend that was exasperated by the rush of hormones and Mona picked up on her attraction. As a result, Mona lept on Dox's anxiety and agressively flirted with the nervous Romulan pilot for a while, seemingly for fun.

Now, a few days later and with a clearer head, Dox sat in her quarters, sulking. The two co-workers had not talked about what had happened, were talking less in the office, and Dox was now terrified that not only did Mona not share any of the feelings she had for her, but that her awkward, hormone fueled behavior had also ruined their friendship.

Of course, there was one way to find out for sure. Dox could simply ask. She could ask her first thing in the morning. Or next week. Or after shore leave.

The entire Security and Tactical staff had all been called together for an assembly in the Armory on Deck 11. There was coffee and donuts provided, and all of the security officers save for Walters and k'aliO, the two on Hera duty, had been ordered to report as well. It was a sea of mustard uniforms and jumpsuits when Commander Paris strode in, jammed her pinkies in her mouth and whistled at a piercing volume that worked quite well as an attention-getter in the din of the social gathering.

"Good morning! Security and Tactical departments, for those of you who might not recognize the uniform, I am Commander Paris, First Officer of the USS Hera, and as of oh seven hundred this morning, I have assumed command of the Security and Tactical departments. In short, if you didn't think so before, you have now been personally informed that not only am I second ranking officer on this starship, I also happen to be your boss, your direct commander in the chain of command. Lieutenants Sexton and French have resigned, and I'm looking forward to seeing just how well this unit comes together."

"You," Rita pointed out a particularly beefy and neckless security officer who looked like Wreck-It Ralph. "When I give an order, when is it to be obeyed?"

The security officer blinked, as he'd been eyeing the Commander's figure since she was facing the other way, and that old golden stretch dress of hers was pretty flattering on her. "Uhhh, to be obeyed... right away, sir! Ma'am!"

"So when I order you to drop and give me twenty and tell me your name, petty officer..." Paris was still standing in the center of the room, not having moved since beginning her speech, although the personnel had backed off a bit. She eyed the beefy boy with one upraised eyebrow in an appraising sort of way.

"Drop and... what, you mean you want me to do push-ups, like in the Academy? Right here on the floor?" the security officer asked in disbelief.

"It's called a deck, I mean exactly that, and it was an order. Now, before we reach a full refusal to obey the order, would you like further clarification on 'drop and give me twenty' and 'that's an order', or do we need a counselor to process your feelings on the matter, petty officer whose name I still do not know. Computer, identify the petty officer with whom I am speaking and name their planet of origin please?"

=^= Petty Officer Third Class Kowalski, Reuben. Human, native of Mars, Sol system. =^= the computer cheerfully complied.

"The computer can do the job of identifying you to me, Petty Officer Kowalski, better than you can. And I'll bet if I asked it, I would still not be waiting for those push-ups. Here, I'll do them with you so that you can see how it works, ready?" At that, the shirt skirt wearing first officer scrambled down to the deck to hold herself level on upraised arms.

The petty officer was confused, but he saw the look in her eye that said she meant it, and he waved off. "Nah bruh, uh uh. That's not how things really work down here, 'ma'am. See, actually-" he managed to get out before she was up and cutting him off.

"Master At Arms Riley!" Paris called, and a middle-aged Andorian chief hustled to the forefront, muttering, "I told you," to his company as he stepped forward.

"Reporting, Commander."

"Mister Kowalski is refusing to obey a direct order, Master At Arms. What does that make Mister Kowalski?" Paris asked briskly, in a voice that definitely carried.

"A malingerer, ma'am," Chief Riley replied.

"What is the penalty for malingering in Starfleet, Master At Arms?" Paris asked. Although she assumed everyone in the room knew the answer, she wanted to be certain the entire assemblage was on the same page.

"Thrown in the brig until captain's mast, ma'am, to be served justice according to the article of the Starfleet Code of Military Justice."

"Wait, are you serious here? She says I need to do pushups of all things, which is a totally unreasonable order, then Commander Curves-" Kowalksi had chucked a thumb at Rita Paris as he began to protest, thinking to pass by her to appeal his case to the Master At Arms. That was when she took him in a thumb lock which turned into an arm lock which in turn became a classic judo flip.

"Never disrespect the uniform, Mister Kowalski," Rita Paris explained to the surprised security officer from his vantage point on the ground. "If you can't respect who's wearing it, at least respect the rank. Since the rank can bust you and transfer you off this ship. Enjoy your new career guarding a traffic control booth on your old home planet." Looking around at the rest of the gold uniforms, Paris addressed them.

"Discipline is clearly lacking in this department, as is competency. That ends as of today. There is a toxic mentality at work in this department, and I'm going to address it here and now."

"Mister Sexton shared a delightful little tidbit with me on our last mission. According to him, in the ranks of Sec/Tac, you consider yourselves to be 'redshirts'. Which is a nickname Security picked up back in my day. I mean, for what, a hundred and twenty-five years now, Command have been the redshirts. Sec/Tac and Engineering are gold. But I get it, referring to yourselves like that because so many jokes are out there about how expendable you are, ha ha."

Looking around the room in deadly earnest, Paris unflinchingly eyed every personnel in the room.

"Six men died on that last mission, due to poor leadership and an unwillingness or inability to follow direct orders. They had no idea how their armor worked, no idea how to arm themselves for the conflict, and they died as if they actually were expendable. And I'll be damned if I'm in command of a department of suicidal security personnel. I wear this uniform for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that I'm not command red, come to tell you how to do things because I learned it in command school. I'm coming to tell you how it's done because in my day I was Navigation, and Navigation WAS Tactical."

"In short, people, I was doing this before your grandpa was in diapers. I know how this is supposed to work. You are the strong arm of this starship- shields and phasers, torpedoes and tractors. In starship combat, the ship relies on us to defend and defeat. Onboard, out there on alien planets, every member of this crew has faith that when they call for security, a dangerous individual who knows what they are doing and who knows how to control a situation to get everyone out alive will be on the scene, fast. And if you need some incentive in this duty, remember this. Computer, transport Petty Officer Kowalski to an unoccupied standard cell in the brig, now please."

The hum of the transporter kicked in and Kowalski vanished in the standard shimmering of lights.

"Remember, starships are so advanced now, they really can run with much fewer crew. Your jobs are being automated. So if you want to be out here exploring the final frontier, you'd better start figuring out how to pull your own weight. Otherwise, your job is liable to become... automated. Thank you, Computer."

=^= You're welcome, Commander Paris. =^= the ship's computer answered solicitously, clearly illustrating the first officer's point.

"Now, Master At Arms, what just happened?" Paris called out as she paced the inner ring of sec/tac gold uniforms.

"Petty Officer Kowalski disobeyed a direct order from the XO and and was transported to the brig," the Andorian chief replied, seeing where this was going.

"Correct. As a point of reference, I prefer to be referred to as the First Officer. What was Mister Kowalski's mistake, Chief Riley?" Paris pivoted on her heel to eye the enlisted counterpart to the officer chief of security.

"He disobeyed a direct order, First Officer," Chief Riley replied, pleased that this seemed to be moving toward a teaching moment.

"Was the order an unlawful one?" Paris asked as she resumed her slow pacing in a circle.

"No ma'am it was not. Physical Training can be called for at any time by a ranking officer."

"So now that we've established that the Commander might ask something unconventional of you, it will always be a lawful order, not one that violates your rights. What are we supposed to do in the chain of command when we receive a lawful order, Master At Arms?" Paris asked solicitously.

"Obey the order to the best of our ability, ma'am," the middle-aged chief fairly swelled with pride.

"Obey the order to the best of our ability. Well put, Master At Arms, well put. So having established all of these facts, having explained to you the heroic duty that is expected of you as Starfleet Security, I ask you- is there anyone here who isn't willing to drop and give me twenty right here and now?"

The Sec/Tac goldshirts eyed one another with uncertainty, almost self-conscious.

"Drop and give me twenty, folks. Now. That's an order." Paris stated plainly. then looked around the room to see who was going to refuse to get on board. As the personnel hit the deck at varying speeds- a few right away, lots of 'well I guess she's serious', and a few foldouts who crossed their arms over their chests, shook their heads or generally made their unwillingness to comply clearly known.

"Not that I'd ever order any of you to do something I'm not willing to do myself," Paris claimed, before she dropped to the the deck to pump out twenty herself. After all, she stayed in good shape, and she could definitely keep up with the rest of the crew. About half of those who had followed her orders were finished by the time she finished pumping out the PT, but when she rose, she saw with satisfaction that a few holdouts had joined her.

"Master At Arms, do we have our defiant malingerers identified?" Paris asked. "I know the computer has them all tagged for me. Do you?"

"Aye ma'am," the chief replied briskly. "I do indeed."

"Then would you be so kind as to take a few officers and escort them to the brig as well," Paris ordered, reasonably confident that she'd found all the hard cases. Anyone whose masculinity was too toxic, who couldn't be reached, had now weeded themselves out. The rest she could now work with to forge a proper department.

"Because they're malingerers, and not fit to stand beside these fine crewmen. They have forfeited that right- they are no brave heroes of Sec/Tac, they're just selfish cowards. Take them away, Chief Riley."

"All hands, prepare to stand full inspection at 06:00 tomorrow, both barracks and stations. I'll be reviewing personnel records and meeting with department heads. If by 22:00 the change in management is not to your liking, I will be accepting transfer requests and entertaining them to the best of my ability." Paris took one more long look around the room. They might still lose people over this, but the Captain would care less than she'd wish to see an inept department on her starship.

"Dismissed. Go make some changes and some decisions, people."

"Then let's all get on with the business of being the heroic saviors of the Hera."

After a nightmarish mission on an abandoned Section 31 base, the time Lieutenant Junior Grade Doctor Asa Dael had spent with a young android named Kodria had been a welcome respite. Something about the android's child like nature was refreshing to Asa, who was not far from childhood themself. As Asa buzzed around Sickbay seeing to everyday medical needs, they thought to themself all the books and experiences they looked forward to sharing with her.

Definitely finish The Hobbit, then maybe listen to some Vulcan music together, maybe she paints? Oh, and we gotta read Data's treatise on android sentience if she hasn't already....

As the sickbay doors opened and Kodria saw Asa, she rushed to the doctor's side and wrapped one arm around them. "Asa! How was your day?"

Returning the hug wholeheartedly, Asa smiled a huge grin and replied, "All the better for having you here. Did you see the sights? Whatcha think?"

Kodria's eyes were still a bit wet from earlier, but she did her best to be cheerful as she looked up at Asa. "Mmhmm! It's all really cool! I got to meet a lot of people and even fly a runabout!"

"That's so cool!" Asa replied. "You ready for a check up? Engineering say everything ok on thaat end?"

"Yeah, Commander sh'Zoarhi got my self repair systems for my personality core working again. All systems are reporting proper diagnostics now." Kodria was definitely happy about that and showed genuine enthusiasm.

"High five!" Asa said, moving in anticipation of Kodria's participation. After an enthusiastic high five, Asa directed Kodria to the closest biobed and began scanning for any biological contaminants or malformations.

"Your self repair functions have done beautifully, it seems your synaptic response time is tracking as improving and your strength is improved. Fit as a fiddle little one, how about in here?" Asa said, gently thumping Kodria's head and then where a human heart would be.

"How are you feeling?" They asked in a soft voice.

"Well, knowing how the future is going to go and not being able to do anything about it kind of sucks..." Kodria sighed heavily. "But there are a lot of good things. So it's best I not do anything."

Asa sat next to Kodria on the biobed, put their arm around her shoulder and drew her in to rest her head on Asa's chest. "Yeah, I imagine that's hard. You can talk to me if you want, you know. I'm a counselor and everything. Have you had any bad thoughts about the station you were on?"

As they were speaking, Asa stroked Kodria's back softly, allowing her time to think before speaking.

"No, I think I'm ok with what happened there now. I've processed that data. I didn't know anyone there so I feel no attachment to anything that happened there." Kodria wrung her hands as she spoke. "It's what's going to happen here over the next ninety six years. I just have to trust that things will work out."

The hand on Kodria's back paused briefly before resuming it's motion. After a second to process the foreboding statement, Asa said quietly, "They will sweet one, somehow they will. So, you sticking around to watch that unfold? Or what did you have in mind?"

"No, I'm going to write a few letters and leave them to be delivered at set times, then go into stasis as planned. If you clear me for stasis, that is." Kodria smiled up at Asa. Knowing the future like she did was both a blessing and a curse in this case. "And at the end of those ninety six years, I hope you're there to help wake me up."

"Yeah, you are clear for stasis. I'm going to miss you like crazy, Kodria. But the good part of being me is in 90 years it will be the same goofy face smiling at you when you wake up."

Kodria giggled happily at that thought. "That's true. You and Grandma Maica never age a day."

Unsurprised by the admission Kodria knew Maica, and the implications of the title Grandma, Asa cocked a mischievous grin and replied, "Not for a long time anyway, now let's test those reflexes," as they went in to tickle Kodria's midsection without mercy.

Kodria couldn't help but burst into giggle fits immediately.

After allowing the moment of silliness to run its course, Asa stopped and enveloped Kodria in their arms. A lone tear ran down Asa’s face as she said, “I’m really going to miss you. Did I ever tell you about Brennan, my baby brother?”

Snuggling tenderly, Kodria nodded. "You said that he was why you became a doctor, right? Tell me again?"

“Yeah, he was really special, like you, and loved to learn. But he was really sick a lot of the time and our family didn’t believe in medicine. Well, at least our dad didn’t. Anyway, one time he got really sick and didn’t get better. I got so mad that I ran away and became a doctor. But you know what I always remember? I remember how he smiled, the way he laughed when I told a bad joke, the way we would stay up late reading when everyone else thought we were asleep, and I remember how much we loved each other. So you know what? I’m going to remember how you smile while you are sleeping. I’m going to remember how kind and smart you are, and that you are so brave, and that the universe is so lucky to have you. I’m going to miss you like crazy, but I’m going to hold on to the memories of us reading books together and how ticklish you are. So don’t worry about me, ok? I’m going to be ok, because I have memories to hold me through the next 90 years. And when you wake up, I’ll be there to tickle you and finish reading a book with you. Ok?”

The young android nodded again. "That sounds good. I won't know you already know me for the first twelve years of my life... But now that I do, so many things make more sense now. Thank you for always being there for me." Hugging on Asa, Kodria couldn't help but smile in her special way.

Asa hugged back, smiling and laughing, “Well, I don’t ever make too much sense, so I’m not surprised future me is a bit odd too. Honestly, I’d be worried if I became normal and boring.”

Commander Rita Paris' log, January 23rd, 2396. Translates into stardate... 73062.3, apparently. Having destroyed the Section 31 base, 'Castilo De Muerte', the USS Hera is swinging out of her way to drop off an inadvertent stowaway that we may not quite know how to return. We've arranged to rendezvous with the USS Amaterasu, which has been using the algorithm created by Lieutenant Vaemyn to running scans and monitor the development of the dark matter ion storm we now suspect to be the slumbering body of a titan. A fragment of which we believe to be trapped in our holographic system, though apparently limited to Holodeck 7.


"So, have we figured out how to pull off this particular miracle, people?" Paris addressed the bridge. "Captain's due on deck any moment, and we're how many minutes from rendezvous, Miss Dox? Mister Sonak, I believe your people found mostly ionization traces; have we found a way to detect and or affect our ethereal passenger?"

Glancing briefly at the helm controls in front of her, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox turned her head slightly towards the golden uniformed First Officer. "At current velocity, 27 minutes Commander."

"Outstanding, plenty of time to work this out. What's the good word, Mister Sonak?" Paris stood to took a pace forward, hands clasped behind her back.

The Vulcan looked at her with his customary impassivity.

"Basically, this should not present any problem. Our transporter technology transmute any form of matter into energy and then back to it's original form somewhere else. Once we lock onto our subject, the rest is rather routine. As for something made out of energy or anything in-between matter and energy, like plasma, we need to adjust scanners accordingly to turn it the same way into a cohesive beam. This has been done since the early days of using transporters aboard the twenty-second century NX series of starships. And until we complete the process, the subject can be maintained in this form in stasis. It has been applied even for quite extended periods of time; seventy-eight years in the now famous incident of the retrieval of Captain Montgommery Scott aboard the USS Genolan."

He paused before changing subject.

"As for detecting our stoweway; anything existing in our universe, even if intermittently, has to manifest itself like some form of matter or energy, which means made of atomic particles. Thus, the moment it exists in our reality, it interacts with at least one known form of matter or energy in the universe. We only have to look either to this newly manifested atomic trace or the effect of it's presence on mundane atoms to pinpoint it's location. At worse, it would be just like Starfleet once used a tachyon grid to locate cloaked Romulan ships during the Klingon Civil War."

“Mmmm, so given that the trace is subtle and seemingly undetected until now, would it benefit from me drawing it out of hiding, so to speak, so that we could detect and lock on to the energies in question?” Paris posed, interpreting the data as it was presented and forming a plan of action.

"Affirmative," Sonak answered. "Although there should be alternatives to risking our Executive officer directly."

Having shared the experiences in the holodeck with Commander Paris and Doctor Dael that led them to where they were now, Dox turned from her position at the Helm towards Paris. "Commander, are you thinking... going back into the holodeck to try and communicate with the entity?"

“So long as our chief science officer agrees, that is precisely my plan, Miss Dox,” the curvaceous commander confirmed. “As we’ve visited and maintained contact with the entity, it seems reasonable to seek to draw them out so as to render them detectable, then inform them of the plan so that they will know to comply rather than resist our efforts, fearing for their safety. Do I take it from your tone you wish to accompany me, Lieutenant? Assuming Mr. Sonak approves?”

"I do, Commander." Dox replied.

"Risking two officers would be even less acceptable when an alternative could offer itself," the Vulcan insisted. "It would be useful to identify first what specifically calls out this entity and use a convincing facsimile to bring it out."

“As near as we could tell from our research, the entity seems to feed on memories of the past, reproducing them holographically within the Holodeck environment,” Paris responded, her tone continuing toward the clinical rather than her traditional speech pattern peppered with slang and abbreviations. ”For example, the entity replicated my office on the Exeter precisely as I recall it, with a level of detail that bespoke of more your level of mental discipline than my own. So it is my belief that the entity would benefit from contact, as well as an explanation of what is to transpire. If we must limit the personnel, I understand, but I am uncertain how we might draw the thus far non-violent entity without live memories as a lure to it, which is a risk I willingly undertake. Thoughts, Mr. Sonak?”

The Vulcan scientist stood hands at his back.

"If the non-belligerent nature of the entity has been established, then communication would indeed be beneficial for us and said entity. After all, seeking out new life is our primary goal."

His grey eyes then focused on Rita.

"That being said, caution is the mother of wisdom. Precautions must be taken to extract anyone in contact with this entity as quickly and as safely as possible in case of any problem occuring. A transporter lock and open comm channel should be active during the entire encounter. Holodeck safety protocols should be hardwired to stay in full effect and deactivate the entire holodeck if tampered with. I can make the appropriate program to ensure this safety measure. Following Starfleet regulations regarding first contact, it should of course be directly monitored by the chief engineer and the Captain while a volunteer team of security and science officers makes contact before the ship's exec is safely cleared to join in."

"All excellent points, Mr. Sonak," Paris smiled, offering a nod. "Save that first contact is a foregone conclusion at this point, as we've been building a relationship with the entity. That makes me the ranking diplomat and point of contact, I believe. I do have faith in the benevolence of the entity, and I will cheerfully acquiesce to open comms and transporter locks. Let's not lock the holodeck down- it has been existing in there without them and it never harmed us. Shutting it down if tampered with might shut down the entity we're trying to release, I'd think. We don't want to hinder it's exit either, aye?"

Even though she felt somewhat out of her place as the ships pilot, she felt it important to add her piece to Rita's statements. "They've had every opportunity to harm us in there and has only ever tried communicating. I've been back every week since the initial incident and they've gotten more adept at using the holodeck to talk with me."

Then the young officer hesitated for a second before finishing her thought. "We asked them to trust us to help and they did."

"I'll bring them round so that you can detect and lock on," Paris continued, "and I'll explain to them what's going to happen. We'll bid them goodbye, and trust in our scientists and technicians to accomplish a victory for compassion using science. At least, assuming the Captain approves," Paris added, because it was never a bad idea to give the captain her due on her own bridge, whether she was standing on it or not.

"Agreed; this is a remarkable opportunity to advance our knowledge and understanding while building relations with a new form of sentience," Sonak said with a nod.

Asa had been quiet through most of the exchange, trusting the science officer to best understand how to accomplish returning this bit of consciousness to where it came from. They felt they owed more than that though to a being they had interacted with, one that had shown understanding and had been patient with circumstances beyond its control. Stepping forward, Asa spoke in a calm voice.

"I can also return to the Holodeck, if you prefer. If emergency transport is needed, I'm less likely to have an adverse reaction, and the being knows me. Or I can monitor the vitals of our primary contact, if you prefer."

“I propose a bit of both, Doctor,” Commander Paris replied, turning to face the ship’s surgeon. “You, Miss Dox and I were the point of contact, and we should probably all be there as the emissaries of the United Federation. While I recognize and acknowledge the necessity of precaution, if we reach the point where beam out is necessary, we’re already in trouble and we’ve lost control of the situation. I feel monitoring our vitals is essential, as are the open comms and transporter locks, because the safety of our officers is paramount- even in a diplomatic situation such as this.”

“After all, they made a leap of faith to reach out to us. Now we’ll be asking for a much larger leap so that we can get them home, so all three of us coming to explain it to them couldn’t hurt- despite that putting three of their senior staff at risk,” the gold-clad commander acquiesced the safety point to the studious science officer, whom she knew would have that point in mind as protocol and regulations dictated.

Having been sneakily listening in while standing in the short hall leading to the conference room, Enalia grinned and sipped at her latte. She had a good crew. Deciding it was time to step out of the shadows, she finished her latte and dropped it off into the bridge replicator on her way to the gelato machine where she took her time deciding on a flavor. "Personally, I'd like to show this entity the trust it's shown us. Starfleet's ultimate mission is one of peace and if we can relate that to the main body, the better of we'll be."

Finally, she decided on a green tea flavor and dispensed a small bowl before turning back to the bridge crew. "In which case, I don't think we have any better ambassadors aboard. As for safety, as long as the point gets across that we're trying to rejoin it with the main host, we should have nothing to fear. However... Have a direct path between sensor platform nine on the pod and holodeck seven cleared of all living matter just in case we need to crank the dark ion sensors up to full and irradiate the deck with metreon particles."

"I will see to the proper programming, Captain," Sonak stated with all his usual seriousness. "I will add the skeletal lock algorythm to the transporter system in case of interference with any emergency beaming. bringing in a transporter enhancer would further help and reduce even further this risk near zero."

It was clear the Vulcan was adamant in covering all possible risks despite his evident interest, a fascination even, with this contact mission.

A small pit in Dox's stomach formed. She didn't feel qualified to speak up in the presence of the other senior bridge officers thanks to her anxiety, but did so anyway. "Regarding the transporters, that would have to be an extreme last resort, correct?"

The nervous Romulan pilot glanced quickly at Rita Paris. She knew nobody would prepare for every possible contingency regarding her transporter history more than her husband, but she was still scared for her friend.

“Of course, Miss Dox, The Transporter-allergic executive allowed. “Just to be on the safe side, le’s have Doc and Dox going to another transport pad then my lock, just in case. Better they not have to deal with my usual transporter shenanigans,” Paris chuckled, a mirthless sound that was thoroughly unconvincing to everyone who heard it. “I’m sure we won’t need them though.. “

"I would beg to differ, Commander," Sonak then said. "Multiple transports requires more time, more energy and more operations, which in all logic we may not have the luxury of in case of an emergency. Having your lock with those of other more stable signals will help reinforce it."

he spoke from experience. This was exactly what had happened the last time they had lost her, back in their own original reality.

“Lieutenant Sonak, do you have the emergency transporter device available for the Commander? If there is a chance of a high-risk transport, I recommend Commander Paris have the device on her person, and also that Lieutenant Sonak man the controls, as he is most knowledgeable with her unique transporter signal,” Doctor Dael said.

"Affirmative," the Vulcan simply replied as if this was but a given.

The good doctor was a bit worried about all Rita being near a potentially dangerous transport with a small bit of celestial being whizzing by, and had started picking at their nails in obvious anxiety. Upon realizing what they were doing, the doctor put their hands clasped behind their back and stood at an approximation of parade rest.

"Regardless of any contingencies, I think our best backup is to not need one. To go in there with clear intention and focus on doing the right thing so we can shepherd them home as planned." Dox added, feeling a bit more confident speaking.

Enalia couldn't help but grin. Every day Dox proved to be the person the starship captain knew she was inside. "Exactly. The best plans are ones that survive use and the best backup plans are the ones that go untested. As such, let's hope that the entity will be able to perform the transfer on its own somehow. If not, we'll assist it in any way possible without causing it harm."

"Well said, Captain. So, Lieutenant Dox, Doctor Dael, you're with me. Let's go work out how to get a friend home, shall we?" Paris was already marching off the bridge to the turbolift as she spoke, a silent glance passing between herself and Sonak. If anyone had seen the expressions, they would not have seen any change in the stoic scientist's features, but to Rita they said I will watch over you. In return, her expression in that brief glance said I'll be careful and return to you.

Would that anyone was watching, who knew the duo's dynamic and their visual shorthand, developed over the years of comporting themselves professionally on duty while still expressing their feelings to one another. Well, Rita's feelings, and Sonak's concerns and reassurances.

"I will input the programming from here then join with you shortly," Sonak stated simply as he returned to his bridge station.

Tapping instructions into the helm controls to call Ensign Gonadie to take over her station, Dox silently got up and followed behind Commander Paris and Doctor Dael into the turbolift.

In the turbolift, Asa turned and took quick vitals of the other occupants to get a baseline for their current medical state. After confirming each was within parameters they nodded briefly, satisfied with the results. The essentials out of the way, Asa asked the group, “So, does everyone have a person or image in mind that our friend can draw from to visualize home or rejoining?”

As they stepped into the turbolift for the ride to Deck 6, the First Officer considered the point. “That’s not a bad idea at all, Doc. I was just going to talk to talk to them and hope they understood. I suppose it would be images of home rather than family, particularly from we three. Images and thoughts of family would likely not be conducive to harmony or relaying what we’re attempting to accomplish in this transfer.”

Doctor Dael nodded and bounced slightly at the praise. “I had this tree growing up that I loved. I read under it, I liked to watch the stars through it at night, sometimes I even slept there. I was going to think about how whole I felt with that tree, how it comforted me and felt like where I belonged. Then I was going to think about how it felt to put on my uniform for the first time after graduating the Academy. How I felt whole….how I had accomplished something I longed for. Um…if you think that’s the right path?” they enthused.

For a moment while Doctor Dael spoke, Dox was lost in thought over their words. But there were no two people that she felt more comfortable with then the two officers in the turbolift, so she didn't keep her thoughts to herself. "Home... isn't something I think I have a positive memory to draw from."

Reaching over to give their friend a half hug in the privacy of the turbolift, Asa said, “The Hera is home too though, right? Maybe something positive from here? I….I hope we have made you feel at home too. Remember how proud you were to have your shelves? Or singing in 10-Forward? A nice relaxing shower after returning from a long day?”

Smiling, Dox replied. "This is the only place I've ever though of as a 'home'. And more then the ship itself, you. Commander Paris. The crew. This is home."

As the turbolift doors opened onto Deck 6, Paris strode out, that commanding stride of hers eating up ground as the two shorter-legged officers strove to keep up. “For me it’s Sonak. He’s always been my guiding star, my fixed point of navigation, no matter how far I get tossed by the universe. Sometimes the only thing that has kept me going was that I was determined to find my way back to him. Whenever we’re together, that’s my home. Although honestly I have been a bit homesick for Earth, so maybe that’s what I should think of instead, as a more abstract concept…”

Dox thought for a second. "Maybe. But... they seem to understand thoughts almost as... metaphors. If you think of Sonak as home, then that's your truth. I think they will understand that more clearly."

"Works for me- thanks, Myx Dael. All right folks, Holodeck 7 is waiting. Let's go be very convincing, and try to persuade our friend to make the leap home. Or prepare them for the boost home we're going to try. Another fine day in Starfleet. Mr. Sonak, do you read us, and do you have our telemetry?"

"Affirmative; computer monitoring and parameters nominal," came the reply. "I will join you and monitor directly from the holodeck terminal itself."

"Outstanding, thank you Please give us real-time long range sensor data to project a holographic representation of the storm in Holodeck 7, complete with Hera and the Amaterasu for scale."

"Acknowledged," came the reply.

As the doors of the holodeck opened, the trio strode in, to seemingly stand in space, with the primal chaos of the cosmic ionic dark matter storm roiling before them.

Looking around, Dox closed her eyes for a moment as the girl raised on ships felt the Hera drop out of warp through the deck plates, having arrived at their destination.

"We're here. We're at your home." She opened her eyes and spoke to the room.

Thinking of the grey-eyed Vulcan who would be outside momentarily and letting herself feel what he meant to her, how he was her constant, her family, her home, Rita spoke up. "This is where you came from.... this is where we are, you can see here, that's what's outside. Do you think if we get close enough you can jump back?"

There was no obvious response to that, which wasn't a positive sign.

"Have no fear. We have a very brilliant scientist coming to help," Rita continued. "We're going to find a way to get you back where you belong, okay? So I want you to have courage, because this might take a bit of faith. But we've gotten you here, and we're going to get you the rest of the way home."

The storm rumbled and turned a bit in the holographic representation, as if it were responding to them.

Looking down at the swirling mass in the holographic representation, Dox couldn't tell if it was a good sign or not as she struggled to think of a positive image of home. She thought of the small flame on the Vulcan brazier that Sonak had given her to aid in her meditations, and as she did, she pushed away the images of her past homes.

She imagined taking the flame away from an image of the Forager in her minds eye. The smuggling ship Dox grew up on wasn't home so she took her focus off of it. Instead, she pictured the corridor of Deck 8, outside of her quarters. In her minds eye, she stepped inside. But she realized this was also wrong.

In her mind, she raised that flame higher in the lonely quarters and it grew brighter and warmer. As the light grew, it illuminated figures in the room that seemed to materialize into clear focus for the anxious young pilot. The first figure was Rita Paris herself as she stepped into the light and into focus. Next to her, stepped Asa Dael.

Then Mona Gonadie appeared. And next to her, Enalia Telvan, then Sonak. And behind them all, remaining slightly out of focus appeared Thex, Schwein, Ila, and more as the figures seemed to fill far more space then the image of her quarters could contain.

It was like she suggested to Rita. This was Dox's home. Not a place, but these people who made her feel welcome and wanted somewhere for the first time in her life. They were the Hera.

As she opened her eyes back up, the image from her minds eye shimmered into the reality of the holodeck. As if lit by that unseen candle, the crew of the Hera became visible before Dox, Rita and Asa.

The image of Rita looked at Dox with a light smile and said a single word, asked with the tone of a question. "Home?"

Without thinking, Dox reached to her sides to take the real Rita and Asa's hands into her own as she choked out a soft, "Yes."

Then all but the image of Rita faded, as the reflection of the Amazonian First Officer sifted it's gaze towards it's real life counterpart as it's form shimmered and changed.

"Commander; there is a shift in the subatomic particles of the uncontrolled variable manifestation from a photonic base to a molecular base," Sonak informed her through her commbadge.

"Should... should we walk our friend out somehow?" Asa inquired, leaning in to Dox, as always unconsciously seeking contact. The doctor imagined their favorite tree from Bajor and envisioned walking Rita and Mnhei'sahe to the tree, Asa allowed their mind to imagine what it would be like show their tree to their adopted family, the joining in heart and mind of two homes, and a feeling of completeness this would engender.

The tree in the quarters in the storm the holodeck had produced vibrated for a second, then again for a few more. Then a few leaves fell off of the tree, as the crowd scene behind it faded a bit dimmer, and the rumble of thunder from the storm briefly cavitated the hull.

"It can't... it lacks a conduit to get out of our systems," Paris guessed, trying to interpret the situation. "Mister Sonak, does our friend have enough of a molecular signature to lock onto and site-to-site beam into the storm?"

It took a moment before the reply came.

"I have a lock on a molecular mass of sufficient size to attempt reintegration. but it is fluctuating, as if the Eisenberg compensator was offline. I checked the system and it is fully active; the problem of quantum instability must be at the source."

There was a pause before he finished.

"It needs a stronger anchor within our material dimension to stabilize."

"An... anchor." Dox muttered as she looked up. Her stomach twisted as she suspected what that and Sonak's pause meant. "Lieutenant Sonak. Do you mean one of us?"

"That would be the first logical option... and the riskiest," he admitted.

Pausing for the briefiest of seconds, Dox replied. "I've... I've spent the most time here with them. They've talked directly with me."

Her voice was slightly Shakey for a second before stabilizing as she spoke. "What would we have to do, Mr. Sonak?"

"Someone would have to get in direct contact... wearing an active commbadge."

"Speak from the heart, be pure of purpose, be brave," Rita Paris whispered to Dox as she backed away a bit. This was likely going to involve transporting, which meant they didn't need Rita's weirdness quirking it up. The El Aurian physician she let decide for themselves where to be in this unfolding drama.

Stepping up to stand by Mnhei'sahe's side, Asa stood resolute, ready to face whatever happened next with their friend. Quietly Asa glanced at Dox and said, "Once more into the breach?"

Turning to look at Rita and Asa, Dox smiled awkwardly and took several extremely deep breaths, suspecting what this plan meant. She closed her eyes as she breathed, picturing the flame of the Vulcan Brazier. In her minds eye, with each deep breath, she pictured the flame breathing with her until there was nothing but the flame.

After a full half a minute, the young Romulan pilot opened her eyes and exhaled long. Then she turned towards the center of the room. She began walking towards the projection of the tree Asa had conjured from her memory. That brought Dox a moment of comfort as she spoke with a steady voice. "We know how to get you home. And I promised that we would get you home, no... no matter what."

As Dox neared the tree, she saw a form appear in front of the tree. It was shadowy at first, but as she spoke, it became more clear. "But... I have to take you there. You need to come with me."

As the features of the form, Dox found herself looking at a mirror of herself, exactly as she was then. Her reflected face had a warm smile as the entity in Dox's form held out it's hands before Dox.

Pausing for a second, Dox and her reflection said one word at the exact same instant: "Home."

Reaching forward, Dox took the hands of her reflection and let all the air out of her chest. In an instant, the reflection stepped forward, shimmering as it disappeared into the young Romulan. There was a moment where time appeared to stand still before Mnhei'sahe shuddered in place as her eyes opened wide.

Standing on the holodeck, the very mortal young woman looked and saw not the projection, but the room..and through the room, the ship itself. And throughout the ship, orbs of colored light moving all around. Past the ship, she could see the vastness of space.

Turning around to the other end of the room, Dox looked back to Rita and Asa. And from their chests emitted the most brilliant, beautiful light she had ever seen. She looked up and spoke in a voice that echoed throughout the room and simply said, "Sonak. We're ready."

"Energizing."

With a shimmer, the image of the Hera before the eyes of both Dox and the Entity vanished. As it happened, it felt different than any transport she had ever experienced as she felt a strange pulling sensation back towards the ship. But she could also feet the entity within her holding them both together.

After what felt like a few too many seconds, the shimmering lights faded as she looked out onto the vastness of space and the looming chaos of the ion storm that seemed to fill her field of vision.

Instantly, she went rigid as she felt a sudden wave of impossible cold filled her from within. Her lungs, that she had emptied on the holodeck compressed as she felt as if a massive pressure was pushing in on her from all sides caused by the vacuum of the void. After a few seconds, she had lost all sensation in her fingers and toes as she struggled to form a coherent thought. After too many seconds, as her field of vision began to blacken in from the sides, it seemed like the lights of the ion storm had begun to flair with rainbows as she felt her eyes begin to freeze.

And while she couldn't speak, she thought as clearly as she could, ‘Home.’

Too many long seconds later, she felt a warm rush from the center of her being. It felt almost as if she were being pulled outside of herself for a moment as she could both see tendrils of bluish light flow from her shuddering form, and looked back at the same time to see her own as the tendrils disconnected.

With a rush, she was alone in her body again. The slight rush of warmth was gone and she felt herself beginning to drift away. As she did, her ever narrowing field of vision began to fill. First, with a brilliant golden light to the left in front of her, Dox saw the rippling image of a golden woman draped in flowing fabric that ran across her form like a fluid as she seemed to step forward. To the side of the golden woman, the darkness of space seemed to flow together as it took on a form. The dark ribbons folded onto themselves as Dox thought she could make out a shape. The shape of a pale, thin Romulan woman astride a great horse in space.

As the women approached, Dox's eyes began to close as she saw the pale face of Death smile at her. As she drifted away, the last thing she saw was a slight blue, shimmering light in the corners of her vision before everything went black.

-------------------

The first thing she saw was a faint, Amber light above her. After what felt like an hour if trying to focus on the single point of light, Mnhei'sahe Dox slowly began to open her eyes. For a few minutes the effort of doing so was exhausting.

As her eyes finally found focus, the young Romulan pilot realized it was the dim night light over the top of her bed. Groggily, she realized, she was in sick bay. Which, she assumed, meant she was alive.

But everything ached like her entire body was waking up from her having been numb. Slowly, she began to scooch up to try and prop herself up on an elbow. It was slow and a little painful to do so, but she was happy to be at least semi-upright.

On a chair next to her bed, she saw Asa Dael, curled up in a ball fast asleep. A faint readout on the wall said that it was 03:17 hours on the day AFTER she last remembered. In the bed next to hers, on the other side of Asa's chair, Dox could see the silver haired Baroness Schwein Von Alcott also fast asleep.

But Schwein was fully dressed and the bio readout displays on her bed were off. Confused, Dox slowly looked around to the otherwise empty room. Empty but for a single woman, sitting casually at the foot of her bed.

Looking up, Dox squinted weakly as her eyes struggled to focus on the pale, lean Romulan woman dressed all in black. It was Death.

"Hnave..." Dox cursed lightly in Rihan. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "Did I not... uh... am I.. am I dead?"

"Heck no..." Death grinned happily and pressed one gloved finger to her lips to make sure Dox knew to speak softly. "You came close but while Asa worked, we made sure you weren't in any actual danger of parting ways. You should be fine and you'll live well past two hundred at the rate you're going."

For her part, Dox wasn't capable of much more than a whisper at the moment. Then she stopped to think for a moment. Dox felt somehow empty. As if something that was there was now gone as her memories began to fill I. "Did... did we do it? Get them home?"

"I heard that the mission was a success, so I assume so," confirmed the pale woman. "How do you feel?"

"Good..." Dox replied softly. "I'd hate to hurt this much and it didn't even work. Seriously, everything kinda hurts. I also feel... I don't know... a little empty. I know it was just for a minute or so, but when the entity was inside me it was... weird. But also comfortable."

Then she added, "I'm glad they got home, though."

Death tapped her lips in thought with one gloved finger. "Hmm... Being a corporeal being like yourself and temporarily bonding with even a shard of an energy being, I suppose you would feel rather empty after it left you."

"Yeah, I..." Dox paused mid sentence as the words 'energy being' spurred a memory that came out in the tone of a question. "When... When I saw you out there. There was someone else. A woman, glowing gold next to you who appeared after the entity had left."

"Glowing gold? Flowing robes? Probably Hera. She's on this ship too, you know." Death smiled brightly. "You should go meet her sometime. I hear she's been inadvertently putting crew in the family way since she came on board."

"H... Hera? I heard something about..." Dox had begun slumping back on her bed as she spoke, muttering as her exhaustion began to overtake her again. Trying to fight through it as her eyes slowly closed. "Why'r... How come you..."

Her body still recovering from the massive stress of almost dying in space, Dox's head fell back gently against the pillow of her bed as she fell back to sleep mumbling out the rest of her question as she faded off to a hard sleep again.

"Why are... why are you happy... to not take me?"

The pale woman moved up to tuck Dox in so she would stay warm as she slept. "Because being Death isn't just about taking life. It's about seeing how people live. I could never take that away from you."

Laying in her bed, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox couldn't sleep. It wasn't that surprising as she slept for the better part of two days straight after being recovered from the void of space.

Three days ago, She, Asa Dael and Rita Paris went into the holodeck to try and help return the shard of a cosmic titan trapped in there that the trio had befrended. But to do so required more than they had considered. To do so, one of the three would have to allow the entity to reside within them and be beamed into the void to release the entity into the ion storm it had originated from.

Due to a unique and unknown condition, Rita Paris could not be beamed. And while Asa Dael is an El-Aurian and can live for thousands of years, their body and physiology was comperably frail. Mnhei'sahe Dox was Romulan. Lower blood pressure, stronger heart rate, greater blood oxygenation capacity, Thicker skin, greater heat retention. Plus, the entity had done with her something it hadn't with the others. It had talked to Dox directly.

So Dox voulenteered herself. She allowed the entity to merge with her. She allowed Sonak to beam her merged form into the vacuum of space to free her friend. The plan was successful. The entity had left her and the ship.

Dox was beamed back to the ship where her life was saved by the Chief Medical Officer, Asa Dael. But the cost was a great one as it took nearly thirty seconds to beam her back. Thirty seconds in the void of space. Fifteen seconds would kill a human. Twenty seconds would kill a Romulan. Dox survived, but barely.

Maybe making friends with the literal embodiment of Death over Romulan ale had it's advantages. In sick bay, Death was there, waiting for Dox to wake up. She told Dox that she actively helped keep her alive for some reason. She told the young pilot that she would still live at least another 200 years. It was a lot to take In.

But now, she just felling very broken. Having had every cell in your body freeze left one extremely sore, it turned out. But she was recovering. By tomorrow, she would be allowed to return to duty. When she woke in Sickbay, she wasn't alone. Asleep at her bedside was Asa and the Baroness Schwein Von Alcott. She had since learned that over the two days she was asleep in Sickbay, she had many visitors that had sat with her while she recovered.

Rita Paris sat and told her stories she didn't hear. Thex took a shift. Asa and Schwein had never left for longer than it took to go to the bathroom. Sonak brought her the Vulcan Brazier he had given her to aid in her meditations studies. Even Captain Telvan came to sit with her for a while.

Mona Gonadie had stopped in too. According to Asa, Mona stopped in a lot. It had been days since Dox realized that she had begun to develop feelings for the Miradonian pilot. Feelings that were strong enough for Mona to smell from across a room. But feelings that Dox had yet to work up the courage to express. As such, the two had only talked in passing at their shared office in Flight Control. It was awkward, but they were professionals. But still, Dox's heart had been aching.

The rest of her still ached too, but she was tired of laying in bed like an invalid. As her muscles resisted with stings ofild pain, she sat up and put her robe on. Slowly, she made her way into the main chamber of her quarters to order a coffee from the Replicator. As she did, she heard the chime of her door go off.

Not expecting any visitors, Dox took a sip of her coffee and slowly walked to the door to open it. On the other side, was the Vulcanoid Android from the future, Kodria Mizu. "Miss Mizu, can I help you?"

"Actually, I came by to see if I could help you," replied the young android as she stepped into the room. "I finished a few things up and was wondering how you were doing and if you needed help with anything."

While the two had only had a couple of encounters, Kodria had let it slip that she knew Mnhei'sahe in her future and tended to behave as though the two were old friends. It was a little strange to the young Romulan red-head, but no more strange than being friends with Death.

Stepping slightly aside, Dox replied. "I'm doing okay. Asa's very good at what they do." Smiling, she stepped further into her quarters and waved Kodria in. "But I'm tired of laying in here staring at the walls. If you want to come in and keep me company I won't say no."

The young android sighed in relief and headed over to one of the chairs to sit down. "Thank goodness. You do some crazy things. You know that though."

"Crazy things are the job, I guess. I'm still getting used to it, though. How have you been doing?" Dox sat down, grunting slightly through her stiff joints.

I'm almost back to full functionality. By the time we get to Earth I should be just about fully recovered." Kodria smiled cheerfully. "Then I get to take a ninety six year nap and wake up to see everyone again after this little adventure."

"I read Commander Paris' report. I'm sorry, but it makes sense. Still, we'll miss you." Dox smiled warmly and took a sip of her coffee.

"I guess I'll be... 127 then. Middle aged Romulan girl." Dox chuckled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being a lousy host. Can I get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you though." Kodria fidgeted a bit before finally admitting something. "There are a lot of questions I want to ask you now that I've met the younger you, but I have to wait ninety six years to ask them."

Pausing for a moment, Dox put her coffee down and took a deep breath. She thought of Death sitting at the edge of her bed telling her things she shouldn't know and made a decision. "I know I said we weren't going to talk about this. But... you know me. From your life. Who... what are we to each other?"

Kodria thought about it for a moment before replying. "I think... You're the cool aunt that takes me out with you to get in trouble and shows me the more dangerous side of the galaxy. You've taught me how to handle myself when I'm in a fight and what to do if I'm lost. You're not only one of my Captains and mentors, but you're family."

Stifling a tear at the idea, Dox leaned forward in her chair to put her hands on Kodria's. "Thank you. That makes me happy to know."

Dox dipped her head to the side slightly to meet Kodria's eyes. "And Im betting you have a lot of family here. I know I do. Real family. I'm honored to include you among them."

Then Dox took a breath and chuckled lightly. Death told her she was going to love well over two hundred years. She told her she would have eight grandchildren. She already knew to much. But she weighted that and decided she was willing to take that burden. "Ask me. It's okay."

"Well... There is one question... Do you really fight alongside Schwein von Alcott?" Kodria looked up at Dox like a kid looks up to a heroine.

"Technically, I haven't yet. But yeah. We're both Artan Baroness' under Captain Telvan." The question was a strange one as her recently upgraded status as a Baroness, while not common knowledge, was current. No damage to the timeline as she could see. So there had to be more. "Why?"

Kodria clammed up at that point, a bit like a kid with a secret they wanted to share but knew they couldn't. "Nothing. Nevermind."

Android or not, Dox could read the anxiety off of Kodria like a book. Something was wrong and she didn't want to say. "I won't push you to say anything you don't want to. I don't want you to to feel uncomfortable. But if there's anything I can do to help, I will."

The young android sighed heavily. "No, I'll just have to ask later. I will be writing some letters though, cheering people on."

Smiling with a sense of melancholy behind it, Dox tried to change the subject a little to lighten Kodria's mood. "So, I'm the 'cool' aunt? Go figure."

The young android wiggled her feet happily. "You are. Everyone else wants me to have structured learning and premeditated fun and carefully planned blahblahblah..."

Dox laughed a little, which caused her ribs to ache just a bit as she did. "Well, I look forward to meeting me too so I can learn how to relax."

Then her smile settled into a slightly melancholy expression. "I'm glad I got to know you now, Kodria. Maybe it's cheating, but it's nice to know I've got you to look forward to again."

Kodria smiled more softly. "I think me being here is cheating."

Reading a shift in tone, Dox wanted to bring the mood back up if she could. "Hey, I'm the cool aunt, right? Cool aunt's encourage cheating." She said with a slight laugh.

"But you didn't have any control over being here, Kodria. So don't beat yourself up over struggling to do the right thing. It's all any of us can ever do."

The young android sighed heavily. "Yeah but I can't help but think that maybe I'm here for a reason. But if that were true, I'd have some inkling in my memory of something someone had said about more than there already is... But I can't find anything. I've found links to my rescue... But not to anything else I'm worried about... Which means I can't say anything... That I didn't say anything... And that's, in the end, the right thing to do... Right?"

Sitting on the small couch across from the chair Kodria was sitting in, Dox scooted I've and patted the empty cushion next to her. "C'mere."

She didn't know what she could do to help, but she desperately wanted to, which seemed to be remarkably similar to what the youthful Android was struggling with. "Sometimes you just have to do what feels right even when it doesn't make sense or might be dangerous. How do you think I got beamed into space."

Hopping off the chair and snuggling up with Dox, Kodria thought about it a moment. "I gave Aunt Rita something I probably shouldn't have... Told her a few things about the future. It's dangerous and doesn't make sense, but I couldn't help myself..."

Putting her arm around Kodria, Dox began petting her hair lightly with her other hand. It amazed her just how strongly the young android engendered such strong protective feelings in her. "Do you know what I do whenever I don't know what to do, Kodria? I ask your Aunt Rita. So I'm betting that you did the right thing."

The young android visibly relaxed as she snuggled in tighter, starting to doze off a little. "Yeah, she always knows what to do. Not even death can stand up to her."

Smiling as she stroked Kodria's hair, Dox thought that it sounded like a very accurate assessment of Rita Paris. But she left it at that as her loving future family tucked herself tightly up against Dox's soft side, falling asleep in her arms.

After a short while, Dox leaned her head over Kodria's and drifted back to sleep as well.

As they were coasting into the heart of the Alpha Quadrant, things tended to be pretty tame as interstellar travel goes. There was some fancy maneuvering to slide in between a few planetary orbits, and the stealth plating got a bit of a workout. Until the mighty starship docked at Ceres Base, in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter was a mining colony that had been abandoned due to safety concerns. But the shafts and chambers gave it a perfect basis for a base, given how difficult it was to scan and locate, and how choppy communications tended to be because of the belt of particulate matter.

With the base's advanced security protocols, no one would be allowed to depart the Hera for another 12 hours, so as to not draw attention to the base with their departures. Thus the crew was on stand down, and the Captain had sent out an invitation to attend a farewell party for Kodria Mizu, who would be going into stasis to travel back to the future from which she had been flung by the universe. After all, the longer she remained in the past- particularly amongst personages to whom she had a relationship in the future- the more she endangered all of their futures, as well as her own existence.

The dress code was casual, attendance was optional. But the young android had endeared herself to many of the crew during her time onboard, and the farewell would likely be a bittersweet one for most.

The first to arrive was Asa Dael, the ships Chief Medical Officer, Asa Daei, who had a pep in their step that spoke of a day drinking too much coffee and a diet consisting of too much sugar. They wore a soft cotton pair of a pajama pants in black with little cartoon planets on them and a sleeveless cotton shirt in a bright blue that read "Warning: This doctor is clinically fun" and had the name of a medical symposium Asa attended during the academy. They were holding a huge tub of buttered popcorn and called, "Yoo-hoo! Can I come in?"

Maica was there to greet them, wearing silk purple pajamas with fuzzy tribble slippers. "Please, come in! Make yourself at home!" The Captain's private mess had been holographically decorated in a colorful manner with angular painted panels, safari scenery playing in the holo-windows, and large bean bag chairs all over the room. Kodria herself was off by the far door talking to one of the holographic wait staff working out the details of the food being prepared.

The door opened again as the andorian and the anear stepped through the doors. Both we wearing a matching seat of blue and black pajamas and carrying a few bottles of andorian ale. " We late for the party?" Thex asked with a grin on her face.

"You're actually a little early," replied Maica, welcoming them in.

The neighbors from next door arrived next, as Rita Paris and Sonak showed up in casual wear- she in stretchy denim blue jeans with white ballet flats and a v-necked t-shirt that read 'Time Tourist- don't tell the DTI', while Sonak was clad in comfortable Vulcan couture. In her hands the first officer carried a box wrapped in colorful paper.

"Hello Maica, thanks for hosting this little send-off," Rita extended to the hostess, the image of her at her wife's living wake in thirty years time flashing through her mind. Ohhh, you'd better knock that off in a hurry. Shove that off into a box somewhere in your head and work very hard to forget it for now, because you've got a lot of ground to cover between now and that moment. This must be what it feels like to be Kodria in this situation... poor kid.

Outwardly Rita fixed that million-watt smile in place to cover her internal process, which never worked.

"It's my pleasure. Please, come in and make yourselves comfortable." Maica motioned for them to do so as well.

~tag any

After a while, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox slowly wandered in. Casual parties were like alien worlds to the anxious young Romulan pilot. And this was to be both a bittersweet affair and a physically taxing one.

Wearing a pair of black leggings, running sneakers and a baggy dark green sweatshirt with a patch of the Starfleet Delta on the breast, Dox tried to not let it show that she was still not at 100% after her little walk outside of the Hera without a space suit a few days ago.

"Hello." She said with a nod to the room as she visually surveyed the room for the emptiest corner.

Maica greeted Dox as well. "Hello, please, come in and enjoy yourself. Refreshments should be out momentarily."

"Thanks, Maica. Do you need a hand with anything?" Dox replied, sheepishly.

Maica smiled brightly. "Nope. The waitstaff has everything covered today. Kodria is acting as hostess and directing them magnificently."

"Okay. Uh... Thanks." Dox replied uncomfortably and nodded as she looked around the room at the others assembled as she walked over to the end of the room.

Having given the popcorn to Maica, Asa walked over to Mnhei’sahe, smiling broadly.

“Hey neighbor,” they said, bumping one shoulder against their neighbors in a familiar way, “Fancy meeting you at a place like this. I’m embarrassed to say this is my first pajama party. I never really did stuff like this growing up, and I wasn’t exactly popular at the Academy. How ‘bout you, you know the protocol here?”

Chuckling awkwardly, Dox tilted an eyebrow up at her friend. "Same boat, Asa. I don't even own any pajamas. I wore running shoes to this. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here."

"I think...mingle?" Asa replied, one eyebrow arched, "Or at least make sure to give Kodria a good send off. I wonder if the Captain has any movies lined up for the night?"

Turning with a slightly concerned expression, Dox asked, "How are you doing with all of this, Asa. I mean, a lot of us got really... attached. But you spent the most time with her?"

Asa’s smile turned a bit sad for a moment, and they took a deep breath before responding, “I’m going to miss her. Really, really, miss her. She’s special, you know? But I know in 90 years I’ll be there when she wakes up, I promised her after all. So it’s not goodbye forever, just goodbye for now. I have the memories of our time together, and I have 90 years to come up with a pop culture crash course for her since I doubt that’s covered in her education. I’m trying to stay hopeful and focus on the good stuff. This is what is best for her, and that’s what is Important. I’ll probably cry in a few weeks when it all sinks in, you know?”

"I'll probably cry a lot tonight, too." Dox smiled. "I know we're not supposed to know about our future but it's really... nice... to know that something really good will be out there that we apparently had something to do with, ya' know?"

Wistfully, Asa put their head on Dox’s shoulder, standing awkwardly in a half-cuddle. “Yeah, I guess that’s what parents feel like huh? Weird that, never wanted to be a parent, but I guess I get it now. She’s going to do great.”

Lightly chuckling, Dox put her arm around Asa. "You can be a parent. I get to be the 'cool aunt'. So, ya' know, no pressure."

The young android giggled softly at the two. "Come on now, it's not like this is a funeral or anything. I'll just be going to sleep for ninety-six years like some modern-day... Uh... Rip Van Winkle. Relax, enjoy yourselves. Enjoy the crunch and munch." Grabbing a small tub carried by one of the wait staff, Kodria pulled out a handful of caramelized popcorn and peanuts and munched on it.

A deeper wave of chuckles forced their way out of the significantly less anxious young Romulan. Her unassuming future Android Niece had a way about her that was immediately disarming and warmed Dox's heart in spite of herself.

"Fine, gimmie." Dox said with a sly grin as she reached out with her free hand to grab a handful of the confection from the tub in Kodria's hands.

Thex smiled as she tapped the android on her shoulder to get her attention. " I'll miss you when you've gone Kodria, but as I can live to 140 I'll be there to give you a checkup when you wake up. I hope you don't mind if I announce something. This is your party after all. "

"Please, go right ahead." Kodria smiled and motioned for the Andorian woman to proceed when ready.

A smile spread over Thex face as Tathaa came up and put her ara around the andorian. " Well as you all well know me and Tathaa have been seeing each other for a while now. As is customary with andorians I have asked her if she will perform the first half of the andorian bonding ceremony with me." Thex said calmly.

A sly grin was on the annear's face as she spoke up. "I said yes."

With a handful of caramelized popcorn in her mouth, Dox started clapping happily.

Kodria pumped a fist in the air and made a woohoo sound. "Congrats!"

"I had a feeling about you kids!" Rita Paris swept them both into a hug. "Your happiness spreads joy!"

Bouncing up and down on their heels, Asa smiled broadly and gave a whoop of celebration before running up to hug both of the Andorians. "I'm so happy for you! I know you will be happy together!" they enthused.

" Thank you everyone. " Thex said with a smile on her face. " We're going to hold it on the anear holy day three mouths from now so we have some time to plan everything."

“That is exciting news! So, Miss Mizu…” Paris spoke up, directing the conversation as the party had a guest to tend to, who wouldn’t be long for this timeline. “As the guest of honor who is here to say your farewells to some of us before your long winter’s nap, before you see us again, I must ask… what are your impressions of those of us you know in the future, having seen us in our past?”

Kodria composed herself as the room quieted. She had expected something like this question and prepared a few things to say. "Young and full of anxiety. Less experienced. Some of you look exactly the same while others are more mature. While some faces will be missing, those that remain will be far wiser for it. I've met most of your descendants and can say that those that choose to be parents and eventually grandparents are going to be great at it and I can see each of you in them. Those that I already knew, It's been amazing knowing you in this time and I look forward to seeing you again in my time. I look forward to harassing everyone's kids and grandkids with stories about you."

"I've written several letters of encouragement that will be delivered not at specific times, but at specific events, just in case. Maru has all my instructions." The young android looked between all of her guests, a smile gracing her features and moisture forming in her eyes. "I've seen how far all of you will go and know the great accomplishments you will all achieve. Heck, I'm one of them. But just remember that none of it is written in stone. Don't get cocky or relaxed because you've met me. If I wake up and history has changed or if I no longer exist... I'll be a little upset."

"Now... Who's ready to watch the remake of the Hobbit holo-vids that are coming out in fifty years? Yes, I have a copy of my favorite movie in my matrix and they've been fully restored." Grinning wickedly, she winked at Asa.

"I don't think that specifically violates the Temporal Prime Directive. So long as no one here plans to go make them ten years earlier, which I somehow doubt- but I will look for your name in the credits," Paris grinned. "Movie night it is!"

Taking the young android aside, Rita Paris looked into those matte black eyes and sighed. "I am really going to miss you for a very log time, young lady. You are an amazing person, and I'm glad I got the chance to know you. I'll try to keep your Gran on an even keel, I promise. As for the future... we have no future save that which we write ourselves. So I'll see you in 84 years or so," the older than she looked lady officer unsuccessfully tried to dam the tears, but she'd grown incredibly find of the little android in the time she'd been here. An innocent in an abattoir, she had been brave and held out hope when most would have given up, and Rita admired the spunky kid.

Sweeping Kodria up into a rather tight hug, Rita sniffled. "I wish you could stay, kid. 84 years is going to be an awfully long time to wait to see you again. But you know too much, and you endanger yourself every moment that you are here. But ohh, how I wish that were not so, and you could stay."

"And you'll have a few kids of your own to raise as well as..." Kodria shook her head and smiled, lowering her voice so only Rita could hear, wrapping one arm around the gold wrapped Commander's waist as the movie started. "I'll need a lot of help those first few years. Mom won't even get my initial motor skill functions written right the first three times. Bloody cybernetics genius but programming? Sorry, but she's only flesh and blood."

"I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing in a lab in ninety years, considering I'm already a century behind the times here and the ship's computer does all the real work." Rita patted the bulkhead and whispered, "Thanks."

"Doing what you do best," Kodria replied innocently.

"You can't predict where the universe can take you or how it will change you. The one constant is you, and being you is the one thing that we all do best. Dr. Pinderschloss taught me that when he was helping put me back together, and it's still true today." Rita smiled wistfully, hesitantly stroking the android's hair. "Somewhere out there future me isn't worried that you vanished in an anomaly, because plans were already in motion to release you from stasis. It will be like the ballad of your life skipped a beat, then played on."

Sighing contentedly, Rita nodded. "The universe is an odd and wonderful place. I'm so glad we got to meet you."

As usual, Rita Paris always had all the right words for the right moment. Watching and listening, Dox was struggling to not do what it often felt like she did best: cry.

--------------------------------------

The next morning, all was in preparation on Celes Base, which was where Starfleet Intel had chosen to put Kodria Mizu to sleep for nearly another century. The parties involved had gathered by her 'bedside' and were saying their final goodbyes.

"I want you to have this, Kodria," Rita Paris said through tearing eyes. "It's my comm badge, the modern one that I never wear with the two bars and the delta. Like you, it's ahead of its time, and represents something that in a short time has come to mean the world to me. I want you to have it... a modern iteration of a very old principle, kinda like me."

Leaning in, the ancient astronaut kissed the android on the forehead. "Sleep well, little one. I'll see you again very soon."

"I will, Aunt Rita. Thank you. All of you take good care of each other, okay? I'll see you all in a few minutes." With a knowing smile, Kodria looked between each of them in turn, then pulled the stasis pod hatch down to seal it up, starting her own hibernation cycle so her semi-organic and inorganic parts would both sleep through the intervening years.

Though she was asleep, the little android dreamed. She dreamed of logic and algorithms. Of the people she knew and the things she'd experienced. The past and the future.

Though she dreamed, the intervening years passed quickly for her and soon her stasis pod was being opened, her semi-organic parts starting to reactivate, which triggered her inorganic parts to reactivate as well.

Opening her eyes, she looked around sleepily as if waking up from an afternoon nap and smiled at those around her.

"Hello everyone. Did you miss me?"

While there were plans and commitments that both planned to keep while visiting Earth, for much of it they would be operating independently. But for their first night together back on Earth, Rita Paris wanted to insure that they spent their time with one another. The planet of her birth held a siren's call for the extradimensional explorer, and she was excited and delighted to be back. It was not exactly her world, for the captivating couple had come from one dimension over where Nero had destroyed Vulcan and the timeline had taken a very different path. It had been 131 years since the ancient astronaut had seen her old home town, so she expected some changes there too.

None of that dampened her enthusiasm as she piloted the shuttlecraft she'd borrowed to transport them from the asteroid belt base where the Hera was currently secreted. Because in the distance she could see the biog blue marble that was her home, and the heart of the Starfleet siren swelled with a sense of homecoming.

Sonak for his part had previously been to Earth; for almost a decade as an Academy instructor at Starfleet's Headquarters in their own alternate reality; and in this universe for the last two years, this time as an Academy student to catch up with the time and place before being returned to active duty. The lush, wet planet had offered a fascinating contrast to his dry, barren homeworld and he had appreciated the novelty of the experience on the alien world with it's bewilderingly emotional and yet rational people. Sharing again this experience with she who was now his wife promised to be just as enriching,
and he was looking forward to it.

"Earth Space Control, this is shuttle Wise Owl, requesting permission for atmospheric entry."

It was impossible to tell if the female voice over the comm was alive or computerized, so crisp, clear and calm it was.

"NCC-79010-09 you are cleared for final approach on vector 53 by 47. Maintain current speed and follow landing beacon. Welcome to planet Earth, Wise Owl."

"Acknowledged, Space control," the Vulcan replied just as precisely as he confirmed the landing procedures and transmitted the coordinates to Rita at the flight controls, his eyes still on the sensors.

"So, San Francisco! I'm so excited to see it from the air, see all the changes to the skyline," Rita chattered as she took them in at a reasonable speed. While she could daredevil fly with the best of them, when no risk was necessary Rita Paris drove like a soccer mom. Approaching the city on the proscribed flight plan brought them in over the bay, the home town partially shrouded in mid-afternoon fog rolling in from said bay. The air traffic swirled around them- they were apparently taking a thoroughfare of the city, as shuttles, small and medium craft passed them in both directions.

The Golden Gate Bridge welcomed them, and the iconic landmark of the Transamerica Building, the distinctive needle of the city skyline still stood proudly. Here and there were landmarks she recognized, if she didn't know their names. But her old home town was the home to a very thriving Starfleet Command. High above the city an impossible tower stood in a complex of smaller towers that formed, when viewed from this far out and on this vector, not unlike the delta of Starfleet.

"I... did not expect that," Rita admitted, head quirking to the side a bit. "Starfleet is... that big?"

"It is here," Sonak confirmed. "If you recall, in our own reality, most of San Francisco had been destroyed by the crash of Admiral Marcus' USS Vengeance. Starfleet had been at the very center of it's impact point. It had taken years to rebuild it. Even here, however, this is more than a century later."

"A century later and without the Vengeance having plowed through town like a scythe, it's... huge. I can barely make out landmarks anymore. But Starfleet Marine is still out on Alcatraz, at least and- Hey! Cable cars!" Rita let out a delighted squeak as she saw an ancient tradition of her home town still in operation after all these centuries.

The pretty pilot deftly maneuvered the shuttle on its way down to the parking deck, where they would land, disembark and the shuttle would be stored for them until they were ready to leave Earth once more.

"So, I would like to repeat a ritual that was particularly successful previously," Rita declared as she looped her arm through his and stepped into the lift to take them down to ground level. "After we were acquitted, and we were no longer going to die, you let me take you on a date. You found it all fascinating and I had a wonderful time. I have no doubt that between the dimensional shift and the passage of time, neither the clothier nor the restaurant still exist."

That was when the lift, which had been by no means turbo, deposited them on the ground level. Viewed at that level, the city was still a lively, interactive mass population of every race and creed of the galaxy. Which spread a slow but steady smile out of the local girl who'd been away for a long time.

"Welcome to the home of the United Federation of Planets. Hello Terra firma." Stepping over to a break in the sidewalk where a tree was planted, Rita Paris knelt and touched the Earth.

"Hey... it's me, Rita. I made it home again. Looks like you're doing pretty good... me too. Me too."

"So," standing, she dusted off her hands, turning to smile at her logical mate. "What do you say we garb ourselves as Earthlings do? Assuming my own sense of style still applies to modern fashion. I really do not have much in the way of civilian clothes, and I love seeing you tailored for a suit. We do look nice in our uniforms, but just for the night? Indulge me once more?" Just the act of asking brought her joy, because it was time spent with him, and whatever the outcome they would agree and proceed. The salty sea air was humid today, yet chilly, and even it reminded her that she was home, because nowhere else in the universe smelled quite like here.

Passing a sewer grate, she wrinkled her nose. Well, maybe a few places...

"Garb a Vulcan does not make," Sonak replied deadpan.

As always, he was fascinated by the humidity of the place as much as with the liveliness and the strange blend of the old and the new. On Vulcan, everything was dry, dead quiet and clearly delineated. And after being here for several years, he had developed a fascination for this apparent chaos that in the end turned into harmony and balance. This was a microcosm of the universe itself; experiencing it was much like tasting life itself, before truly biting into it.

Donning the local attire would simply make things easier.

"Of course not. I just love seeing you in Earth clothing, is all. It's a different look for you, and one that I enjoy from time to time. Do you not want to? Just for one night?" the bride of the kolinahr asked with pleading eyes.

"I believe the old Earth saying is; in Rome, do as the Romans do," he said. "It is of no matter to me except if it is of importance to you. I will oblige, my wife."

"I'll settle for oblige," she smiled brightly, wrapped her arm about his and strolled into town.

Pulling out a collapsible PaDD, Rita brought up the local network. "So, humanoid tailor, this is Potrero Hill, so... well hey, look at that. Since you are obliging... I always love you in tweed and wool blends. Let's see... humanoid men's tailors... Kwadduwok Custom Couture sounds promising... oooh, yes... and they're open... and they book online, and they have an opening. They are six blocks north and three blocks west. Half an hour to cover the distance and see the character of the city, my love. Did you explore it much when last you were here?"

Setting off, she set a casual pace so they could take in the sights and the sounds of the city as they walked.

"In our own reality, I had ten years to do so," he said matter-of-factly. "Here I was too busy cramming a hundred years of catching up and finding you again to wander off the Academy compound. So this will be a fresh experience for me to explore it with you."

"I never thought the strange new world to explore would be my own home town. But wow, 130 years is a long time, and..." dodging around a gelatinous life form sloughing down the sidewalk only to nearly run into a tumbleweed who turned fuscia in alarm who was apparently delivering cantonese take-out. "I don't think I've seen this much diversity in most starbases. This is incredible..." A flock of small humanoids whizzed through the intersection, apparently an entire family of wee winged folk on vacation.

"We really did it, didn't we? All these planets, all these cultures, all these lifeforms... living together in harmony. Sharing a vision of a better day, to uplift everyone together. It looks like we got what we were striving for all those years ago. I think our forebears would be pretty darn proud of we founding races of the Federation, because seeing the future, I sure am."

"It is a most remarkable achievement," Sonak agreed. "Especially considering that most species experience emotions, and fear is one of the most powerful ones, most of all fear of the unknown, the different. However, when reason prevails, it becomes clear survival, life and fulfillment can only be achieved by combining differences."

He looked at her then, obviously emphasizing his point by implying their own personal relationship.

"This is a LOT of races buying into that philosophy, though... we've clearly come a long ways, and I can't help but be proud of our inheritors, so to speak, you know? We went and sought out all of those other worlds, other cultures, other species, and we've managed to keep it creative and constructive instead of filled with conflict. I think that's quite the accomplishment. Bridging the gap with you has always been easy, with your insatiable thirst for knowledge and understanding of the universe," she beamed at him. "Plus you have to admit, even for your people, your level of enlightenment is uncommon, to have embraced all that you have in your lifespan."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I am a master of Gol."

it was said with the tone of someone stating a bald evidence, without any false modesty nor pride. A mere statement of fact with nothing else to imply.

"What is much more impressive is that many Humans achieve such wisdom without the need of repressing emotions or even relying solely on logic as we Vulcans do. You yourself have shown promising insights, especially with interpersonal relationships; something even I, a Master of Gol, could never do."

"I know quality people with extreme problems. I have to admit, that does make it a lot easier," Rita qualified the statement, not deflecting but redirecting to the less broad more precise point. "But I feel you sell yourself short. Amongst the crew you are greatly respected, almost revered, and that's without much personal interaction. With those crewmen with whom you do interact, you give selflessly of yourself, which garners you considerably positive relationships with those individuals. You, my logical spouse, are a legendary figure moving through people's lives. With your work, your leadership, your interactions. If nothing else, people somehow seem to sense that, and they react to it."

"People like you and they trust you, because there's no artifice, no ego, nothing but pure logic. And to know someone who can achieve that is special to others. In the infinite diversity, you stand out m'love," Rita grinned at him, a toothy affair because she was happy and she was relaxed, walking through one of her favorite neighborhoods in her favorite city with her favorite person in all the universe. Life is good.

He almost shrugged.

"Every living thing can only act according to it's gifts... and limitations."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Rita agreed, then walked in silence for the space of a block, internally contemplating the situation at hand.

"Are you less than pleased to be back on Earth?" she ventured. She herself was extremely excited to be back on her home planet, but he did not seem to be sharing her enthusiasm. "Am I imposing on your time, are there duties or experiments I am keeping you from by requesting time together?"

"Negative."

He realized instantly that his curt answer would not satisfy her obvious emotional need, and thus pressed onward.

"It is agreeable to be somewhere that makes you... feel... well, good and happy. This is important for you and your well-being; therefore it is for me, your husband, as well. As for my time, your presence in my life is an addition, not a subtraction. Juggling with duties and needs to keep you on top of priorities as much as possible is an integral part of the choice I made to be with you."

The steely-eyed Vulcan looked around, taking in the chaos of life in a sprawling megacity.

"I somewhat understand part of what you may be experiencing being back on your homeworld. When I found out that Vulcan was still sound and whole in this universe, my people thriving, my culture preserved and flourishing within the vast tapestry of the Federation, I must confess I too experienced something quite... stirring. I judge important to share this here with you."

Sighing, Rita clutched Sonak’s arm in arm a bit closer to her, and briefly resting her head happily on his broad shoulder. “You really do get me. We will have to go to Vulcan, you know. We met after it… well. You know. There has never been the possibility of us going there, you showing me the sights and exploring and experiencing it. I would like very much for you to take me there, to see it through your eyes.”

"It will be a somewhat novel experience for me as well to share," he confided. "This is a Vulcan a century after the destruction of mine. Even on Vulcan, change occurs over such a span."

“Someday we’ll be talking our kids there for summer vacations, and I’d better get used to that thinner air now while I’m young. Well, young-ish,” she giggled. She was quite spry for a 163 year old human, she reasoned. “Stirring… that’s an excellent word for it. I’m filled with so many emotions at all of this, but ‘stirring’ is quite succinct.”

"A simple injection of a tri-ox compound will alleviate the respiratory and homeostasis difficulties," he assured her. "And we do have climate control inside our buildings. Of course exploring ancient sites like the Forge or Gol will require proper preparation to ensure you appreciate it without undue difficulties."

"I want to, though. I can see them in your mind, but I want to see them for myself, take in the majesty of the vistas with my own senses," she waxed, feeling the moment. "I want to see the epic sights of your home, too, and I want the next generations to see them. Because they're still here, which everyone but us takes for granted."

Passing the local shops, fortune tellers abutted to grocerias next to shwarma restaurants next to sunglass huts next to Klingon eateries, bring your own bowl. A tattoo parlor advertised Starfleet deltas, old and new, Klingon designs and intricately measured and precise Romulan designs, with Ferenghi, Bolian, Deltan, Orion, Andorian, Vulcan symbology and alien glyphs that were truly unreadable, yet no less accurate.

The great melting pot had come up with an awful lot of ingredients, and it all seemed to be coming together in a stew that was mutually satisfying.

Their stroll through town was paused when they arrived at their destination, 'Kwadduwok Custom Couture'. Stepping inside, the door jingled, announcing their presence. Which summoned from out of the back a stoop-shouldered old man with thinning grey hair slicked back on his head, and squarish-framed eyeglasses on his face. He wore a button-down shirt of comfortable material, a tailor's vest stuck through with pins, a few tape measures lolling out of the vest's pocket and a pair of shears in a leather holster on his belt.

"What can Enzo make for you today, hmmm?" he asked quizzically, his face a bit pinched but still friendly enough.

Sonak turned his head towards his wife.

"You command this away team, Commander."

"Ahhh, I thought you might have some preference. Hello Enzo... I'm looking for a traditional Earth suit for my logical husband. Something with breathable fabrics, still good to keep off the chill- slacks, a shirt, maybe a sweater vest, and a suit jacket? Keep it in Earth tones, if you will, and I'll need something casual as well," she added, striking a pose with her hand on her hip. "Although if you can fit me, I could use a few occasion dresses..."

The old craftsman smiled, wagging his finger at the statuesque Starfleet siren. “Ahhhh, your man, he’s easy to fit, but you, you take a bit of work. Let’s get started, eh?”

The next hour passed in a flurry of hand-taken measurements, holographic patterns, colors and images, while fabric samples were consulted for texture and colors. Enzo worked by holographically running through his catalogue, narrowing down the options, then choosing the fabrics, linings and colors, then programming the replicator with the appropriate seams and stiches to reinforce the durability of the garments. It was a charming blend of old-world craftsmanship and modern technology, and Enzo was a gracious and accommodating host throughout it all.

When he was through, Rita was clad in a dark blue long sleeved sweater dress, with a knee-length tight skirt and a cowlneck, wrapped with a wide white belt about her narrow waist and pair of stylish low white patent leather pumps on her feet. Sonak was clad in a pale blue cotton button-down shirt, a soft woolen sweater vest in deep sage green, loose comfortable pleated khaki slacks, a tweed jacket in a pattern of woven beige and brown threading with brown patches on the sleeves. On his feet, shiny mahogany brown penny loafers completed the look, which delighted Rita.

“You look so handsome!” she exclaimed, clearly happy to see him in the outfit which was an earth standard that seemed somehow like a costume, but she had chosen the fabrics and the fit for comfort for him as well as the aesthetics for her tastes.

“So- j’approuve, j’aime?” Rita asked, admiring how they looked together in the trio of tailor’s mirrors angled to enable viewing from multiple angles.

The Vulcan contemplated his own image seriously before replying

"It is of a simple elegance that is pleasing to the eye, and of a fine cut, comfortable almost to the point of practicality. And it will properly honor your homeworld. I do indeed approve."

He turned then to look at her.

"I must confess that this garb of yours is also most elegant and enticing, complimenting your figure perfectly. An excellent choice, my wife."

“Why thank you, Sonak!” A happy smile spread across her face as she took in the image of them both in the mirror, standing back on her own homeworld, clothed in traditional garb- well, traditional enough, she decided. “Then it’s settled. Enzo, you are a treasure. Would you be kind enough to take a holo for us?”

“Of course, of course signora! Anything for my favorite Starfleet couple!” Enzo captured an image, then sent it to Rita’s generic Starfleet address. After bidding him farewell with a promise of shipping for a number of the other outfits Rita had ordered in the process, she imposed upon him for one more question.

“Italian ristorante? Ah, you want to go to Vincenzo’s, my cousin’s restaurant! You tell him Enzo sent you, he treat you extra nice!” the garrulous tailor offered, which prompted Rita to bring up the location and directions, and presently they were off again, wading into the foot traffic on the sidewalks that took them closer to their dinner date.

“We had Italian that day too, and while I suppose we could try more exotic cuisine, I thought we’d go with tradition?” Rita asked, arm in arm with the casually-clad kolinahr.

"I am Vulcan; tradition is second nature to me," answered Sonak deadpan.

They took in a fine Italian dinner, complete with sneaking off for a quickie in the ladies room, which was a part of the tradition upon which she insisted. Then came a stroll around the Mission district, taking in the murals along Clarion Alley and getting caught up in dancing at a salsa club names El Fuego. When she had danced herself out, he called for a shuttle and they winged to Pacifica, where they impulsively took rooms at a run-down beach resort called the Sandy Breeze Motel.

In the morning, she took him down to the beach, where they acquired wetsuits and surfboards, and in the predawn they paddled out to ride the waves- he learning, she remembering. Sonak's superior balance, control and learning curve made him a natural, and they soon surfed further north up the beach, where the larger waves crashed ashore.

As the sun rose behind them, they lay on the beach, the surf ticking at their legs, their feet, then washing over them gently. The ebb and flow of the surf, like the ebb and flow of all force in the universe- at least, to Rita Paris.

Reaching over, she took the hand of her rock, the stable point of her universe upon which everything else revolved. They lay in the surf and upon the land, representative of they themselves and their relationship.

The lost navigator and the last kolinahr connected with the planet that had given her life.

The Earth girl had come home again.

Staring out the window of her inordinately spacious quarters overlooking a rainy San Francisco day, Jaieh Dox sipped her morning coffee. Since she was transferred to Starfleet Intelligence over a month ago, her surroundings had improved, but it was still a prison of a sort.

For over fifteen years, the dark haired Romulan woman had been the 'guest' of Starfleet after her smuggling ship was captured by a federation patrol vessel. On board was her, her former lover and the father of her child, Declan, and their daughter. Declan was sent to the penal colony in New Zealand. Their daughter was sent to live with her human relatives in Ohio and Jaeih became the property of Starfleet.

Before becoming a smuggler over thirty years ago, Jaeih was an engineer for the Romulan Star Empire, specializing in the development of Cloaking technology. That knowledge was extremely valuable to Starfleet. Knowledge that she had agreed to share, on the condition that her daughter not have the crimes of a smuggler put on her record.

So Jaeih drank her coffee in her dark grey Starfleet Intelligence uniform, bereft of any rank or insignia and prepared to attend to her days work betraying her former life's work. She had no love for the star empire, but it still felt like a betrayal to her people to share those secrets. To help a people that she once considered her enemies to learn all about Romulan Cloaking technology.

But her daughter was now counted among those people she once saw as enemies. He daughter was Starfleet Lieutenant Melanie Dox of the Starship... well... she didn't know.

While the two had been recently been able to talk via hologram, but was not allowed to speak about her ship, her assignment or her crew members, which told Jaieh that her daughter must now also be serving Starfleet Intelligence.

She walked across the large living quarters that we're still new and sparsely decorated but for a single framed photo of her daughter taken from their most recent conversation, and picked up a small data PaDD on the dining table. On it was her assignments for the day which were standard consultations in the labs down the hall of the one floor she was allowed on.

Taking another sip, the slender Romulan woman with the stern face put her coffee down and prepared to begin her day when the data in her PaDD had changed. Quizically, she raised an eyebrow as her morning appointments were rescheduled and replaced with the simple message: 'Visitor appointment.'

"Lovely," she muttered to herself in her native Rihan. "Another blasted meeting." As the chime of her door rang.

Somewhat annoyed, Jaeih plopped the PaDD down, folded her arms behind her back to face the door and replied. "Enter."

In strode Starfleet- the uniform was bizarre but the countenance, the gait, the insipid welcoming smile, all of that was pure Starfleet. This one could be a poster child for it. Tall, too- tall as a man, but no man ever had a figure like that. What was this, some sort of Starfleet harem girl? Striding into the room, she extended her hand. This was at least one of their customs born at heart over insuring those well met were met with an open hand and not a weapon.

"Hello, Mrs. Dox. My name's Rita Paris. It's very nice to meet you."

Raising an eyebrow, Jaeih stood there for a second simply taking in her unusual visitor before extending her hand to return the gesture she had learned to accept as an annoying part of her indentured servitude whenever some new officer wanted to talk to her.

"Very well..." Jaeih glanced at the wide collar of her visitors unusual gold uniform at the three solid gold pips on it. "... Commander Paris. What can I do for you?"

The reply was dragged out with an undercurrent of both mild score and boredom at what the irritated Romulan woman assumed would be yet another insipid Starfleet briefing overflowing with meaningless pleasantries.

"I apologize, I thought your daughter might have mentioned me," the human smiled and nodded in approval. "Generalities only, well done. I'm the First Officer on Lieutenant Dox' assignment, ma'am. I hope you don't mind my presumption in coming by, but I've wanted to meet you."

It seemed like a rather crude manipulation attempt, save that the oddly uniformed officer was overselling it. Was the uniform a distraction technique?

Tilting her head slightly at her visitor, Jaeih sighed lightly. "My daughter has spoken to me about her crewmates in generalities, but never by name, which is by your Starfleet regulations. A fact I would have assumed her first officer to be aware of."

Picking her coffee back up, Jaeih took a sip and turned to look back out the window as she spoke. "So, you are my daughter's Commander." She then turned back and stepped slightly closer to Rita Paris, looking her up and down for a second.

"You'll forgive me if I had any doubts, but you aren't exactly dressed like the standard visitors I get." Jaeih turned away quickly and sat on the small chair in the center of the room across from an empty couch that she gestured to. "Not that I mind the bit of color in the parade of gray and black that is most of my days. It does lead me to believe I might even have an idea of who you might be based on my communications with my daughter."

"Ah, so you have heard of me," the easygoing executive leaned back a bit on the couch, knees still crossed. "Mnhei'sahe has certainly mentioned you. You are quite the figure in her life." She'd intended to play it straight, but the old lady wanted to dance. This was a dance whose steps she knew, though, because it was an old dance. I'll let you lead.

At the sound of her daughter's name, Jaeih's eyes went cold. She had become somewhat accustomed to Starfleet Intelligence playing games with her over the years and drew the line when it came to mention of her. "I am well aware our communications are monitored, Commander Paris. And as such, of course you would have access to the name I gave her regardless of what is written on her service record. But please know that in spite of my people's... reputation... I have no patience for subterfuge. Nor will I tolerate mention of my daughter as some sort of... tactic."

The human woman held up her hands. "No tactic, ma'am. Your daughter serves under me, and I've been mentoring her for the past few months. She is a magnificent officer who's going to go far in Starfleet, and I came to tell you that you should be darned proud of her." Rita was speaking the truth, but keeping it to sufficient generalities for the moment that Jaeih could continue to believe they were all generalities and flatteries designed to gull the canny Romulan.

"I am extremely proud of her, Commander. I fostered those skills to the best of my abilities." Jaeih replied, keeping her dark eyes locked on Rita's crystal blue ones. "But I can't believe you came all this way to... heap praise at Mnhei'sahe."

"Nope, I handle that in person, Mrs. Dox," Paris leaned forward to rest her elbow on her knee. "I just came to meet you and tell you that I respect your choices, then and now. You did a fine job raising her- Miss Dox is rather a wonder, a jack of all trades and a highly disciplined officer, and that's due to you. You're the one who taught her everything she knew before she made it to Starfleet, and it put her light years ahead of the curve. More recently, you've been honest with her when she needed the truth, and I respect that, ma'am."

Looking past what she saw as false praise, Jaieh locked on Rita's last statement with a hint of venom in her voice. "And exactly what do you know of her truth?"

The eyes narrowed a bit at that. "Enough. I know what he did, and I know what you did, and I know what it did to her," Paris fairly growled before composing herself again.

"I know you've no reason to trust nor believe me, and that's perfectly all right. I've done nothing to earn it, and all of this could be bullshit. I imagine you suspect this is some mind game or other of Starfleet Intelligence, brewed up to keep you on your toes, or whatever sinister motivation could be assigned to this little scenario in your mind."

"But I came because I respect you and I wanted to meet you, since it's possible. I came to tell you that your daughter is the best damn pilot I've ever seen, and I have to admit that being a pilot myself. I came to tell you she's happy, that she's doing fine, and that she's a valued member of the senior staff. I came to tell you all of that, none of which you have any motivation to believe." Paris paused, then smiled, a little piper's smile.

"Of course, you have equal motivation to believe that I'm lying. Do you think you could tell if I told you a lie, Mrs. Dox? All those years making your own way, you must be a shrewd judge of character." Leaning in, Paris batted those baby blues and opened the windows to her soul. "Tell me, Mrs. Dox... am I a good liar?"

Staring back, Jaeih paused before replying. "I wouldn't know, Commander. I'll tell you once you do."

It was the genuine emotions underneath Paris' words about her daughter that told her what she needed to know as her posture loosened slightly. The anger she could feel from Paris over what had been done to Mnhei'sahe in her youth was real and spoke of legitimate friendship to the suspicious Romulan.

"Thank you for clarifying, Commander." Her stern facade shifted slightly as she allowed herself a slight smile. "You must be her. The human she confided in. And her First Officer, no less. She speaks of you often as well."

"Most likely I must be, ma'am. We spend a lot of time together- we're friends. In no small part because I understand her- she's insecure and doubts herself and thinks people are against her. But she's getting a real grip on all of that, and fast, too. She's nobody's fool, but she's learned to trust a bit, and seen where it's gotten her. She's part of something she can be proud of, and her contributions are recognized, so you can imagine what that does for self-esteem. I could go on, but I'm sure hearing all of this bores you." At that last statement, Paris looked the woman in the eye as she lied. Rita knew damn well the woman would want to know every detail about her daughter's life, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

For her part, Jaeih leaned back in her seat and tilted an eyebrow up as a slight smirk crept across her face. A smirk remarkably similar to the one that Rita had seen more and more frequently on Mnhei'sahe's own face. "Well, now I know you are either a terrible liar or extremely skilled at making others think you are."

But the smirk faded quickly as her head sank slightly and she closed her eyes for a moment as she continued. "But... I am... very glad to know that she has friends."

The ancient astronaut let the moment hang, then she added softly, "Good friends, ma'am. She earns them, each and every one of them. She's out there making a difference, doing some real good in the galaxy every day. And she has friends and hobbies, she socializes. We even had a little party for her when she got her ears restored and changed her name back, because her friends wanted to celebrate with her. To celebrate her."

"Quite a young woman, our Miss Dox."

But that question was overwhelmed in Jaeih's thoughts by Rita's casual revelation of something she didn't know. "She... hadn't told me she did that. Reclaimed her true name."

Quickly Jaeih changed the subject back to Paris, as the moment was hitting her more emotionally than she was prepared to allow herself to become. "Being Romulan, I'm older than I look. However you, Commander Paris, don't appear to be any older than Mnhei'sahe. Yet you speak of her with a tone that says otherwise. You carry yourself with more weight than that, to say nothing of the one hundred and forty year old uniform."

It was a statement asked as a question, but Jaeih was now curious about this woman her daughter had spoken so highly of as to call her a 'Rinam': the Romulan word for 'Sister.'

"That she has- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spoil the surprise, she should have been the one to tell you that," the friendly first officer chided herself. "As for me, I'm... also older than I look, but you're kind for saying so. As is our assignment, I suspect my story also likely rather classified, and while I am sure you are clear to review various degrees of classified information, best not get either of us in trouble."

"Let's just say that I am no immortal- I'm just a human girl from Earth, and that my trek through the stars started many years ago. While my husband has taught your daughter mediation and the acceptance of a dual nature, I've tried to keep her balanced and show there is something to be said for being part human. She's still figuring it all out- but then, aren't we all?" The woman smiled broadly at that, one of those smiles that could light up a room.

"Normally, my opinion on humanity is... a dim one at best as I'm sure you know from Mnhei'sahe." Jaeih said, allowing herself a half smile. "But I did choose to have a child with one, so I have been swayed from time to time. A concept I can assume is not entirely alien to you as well since you are married to a Vulcan."

That got her an upraised eyebrow, but Paris said nothing. She suspected she was about to be walked through the logic, and she could be patient. The elder Dox needed to reassert some control over the situation, Rita understood, and she'd give the woman her moment of logic and the reaction she sought.

Leaning forward, Jaeih took a sip of her coffee as she spoke. "Mnhei'sahe, of course, never specified anyone's relationships so as to keep any such identifying details off of subspace frequencies. But she has spoke exceedingly highly of the Vulcan whom as been tutoring her, so I feel safe in making that connection myself."

"Your logic is sound, as he'd say," the buxom blonde admitted. "His name is Sonak. I believe he himself is considerably less classified, if you wish to investigate him to learn more. Suffice to say he is a master of logic, and he has volunteered to help. After all, as he is fond of saying, 'we come to serve', and..." Paris struggled with how to say it without betraying classified information or betraying confidences. In the end, she went with simple. "She needed to hear from both sides of her heritage, and as he understands the Vulcanoid mind better than anyone, so he was there for her when she needed him, as are we all."

While her mannerisms we still fairly formal, her sentiments we're sincere. "Please inform him of my considerable gratitude for his efforts. I know it has been a tremendous help to her. As have been yours, for which you also have my gratitude."

"All she ever needed was someone to believe in her, ma'am. She had you for all of those years," Paris pointed out, giving the single mother her due. "I think maybe she was looking for that in Starfleet, up until recently. But you prepared her and forged her- she just needed someone who wouldn't take no for an answer to call for her to step up. Again, as her superior officer, you have my thanks, ma'am."

Glancing down at the cup in her hand, Jaeih added. "I have been a remiss hostess. Would you care for a cup. Romulan coffee is strong, but I suspect you can handle it." She smiled slightly as she spoke.

"Hospitality is for guests, not visitors," Paris quoted an old Romulan proverb she'd looked up for the occasion, then smiled that easygoing smile. "I'd love a cup of coffee, ma'am, if it's not too much trouble, please and thank you."

"Then you should know where you stand with me, then." For the first time, Jaieh allowed herself a broader smile as she stood up and walked over to the kitchenette counter where a lot of coffee simmered.

"Replication is all well and good, but this was one of the perks that came with this somewhat upgraded locale I find myself it." She said as she poured Paris a cup. "According to the somewhat irritated officer that oversaw my transfer here who seemed to have a tenuous grip on the concept of 'intelligence' in the professional sense, this somewhat luxurious assignment is due to the machinations of your Captain."

Handing the cup to Paris, she walked back around and took her seat. "His exact words were, 'Your Daughter's Captain must have some friends high up to get you transferred here'."

Taking a sip, Jaieh interjected into her own statement. "I assure you I'm not fishing for information. I simply mention it to again, pass along my gratitude."

“I'll be sure to pass it along, ma'am. What we do is dangerous, often physically, mentally and emotionally,” Rita expanded. After all, she could not say a lot, but she could be very general. “When diplomacy fails, when the explorers of the unknown never return, when there is trouble above and beyond… that’s when we come in. Our Miss Dox took to it like a natural, with enthusiasm, a willingness to learn and a fearlessness that is tempered by common sense. Once the situation was known in regards to you, the Captain did what could be done. Good officers need good support. Mnhei'sahe was thrilled to be able to speak interactively with you again instead of trading missives, and more contact with you has done her a world of good.”

Pausing to consider, Paris braved it. “It’s a bit of presumption on my part, ma’am, but she misses you. Having a better relationship with you has helped ground her and keep her on course. I know your relationship in the past might not have been ideal, but that was half her life ago. As an adult, our perspectives on our parents change, I’m told.”

“Great coffee, by the way- thank you,” Paris offered as she let the Romulan mother take a moment to process that, hoping that it went over well as she always did.

Instead, the words had a somewhat opposite effect for a moment, as it forced Jaeih to think about something that had been in the back of her mind since Rita announced herself as Mnhei'sahe's First Officer. It was a thought that filled the otherwise stern Romulan with sadness that she did her best to conceal.

Instead, she placed her coffee cup down and replied as best as she could with a practiced smile. "It has been... extremely... very..." But her facade cracked quickly.

"It has meant the world to me as well, Commander. It really has. It's given me motivation here in my work and... no small degree of hope." She smiled with the same tight lipped expression that Rita Paris knew all too well on the face of her daughter when there was more going on.

The smile that lit up the face of the first officer was both knowing and restrained, as she sympathized with the woman, and it was a bit wistful to see the expression on the woman’s face that she knew so well from time spent with her daughter.

“Given what you’ve gone through, I can imagine, And… well, to be honest, I don’t know how much the word of a Starfleet officer means to you,” Paris allowed- after all, for the past 15 years she suspected the elder Dox’ dealings with Starfleet had been less than pleasant. “But I thought it might help you to know that she’s doing great, that she’s happy and well-adapted, she is excelling and growing. In short, Mrs. Dox, I wouldn’t presume to tell you how you should feel. But as her superior officer, I’m very proud of Lieutenant Dox, and I thought you should know that.”

Maintaining her forced smile to the best of her ability, Jaeih replied, deciding to open up about something else instead. "Commander, do you know what the word "Rinam" means?"

Caught flat-footed, the first officer spread her hands, one still holding the now half-drained coffee. “I’m afraid I do not, ma’am. I’m terrible with linguistics- I speak Federation Standard and one of the local languages here on Earth, and that’s about it. I married a Vulcan and I can’t even construct a sentence in his language without help. It’s a pretty word though… what does it mean?”

Leaning in without a hint of pretense or guile, Jaeih replied. "It means 'sister', Commander. It is the Rihan word Mnhei'sahe used to describe you when we spoke last."

Keeping her dark eyes locked on Rita, she continued. "It is not a word that she has ever used to describe anyone before, and it means that your word carries significant weight with me, regardless of the uniform you wear."

The emotional executive blinked rapidly a few times, sitting back a bit as she was literally taken aback by the news, and her eyes shone as she held back tears. “That’s… that incredibly sweet. I didn’t… she had not mentioned it to me, no, ma’am. I’m… I’m sorry, that’s so… aw, jeez,” Rita mopped at her eyes with the back of her hand. Sniffling, she smiled, a wry expression.

“I’ve never had a sister before, but… I feel the same way about her, ma’am. I’d take a phaser for that girl. Hell, I’d transport for her… wait, that doesn’t mean anything to you, sorry. But… yeah.” Paris nodded as she composed herself. “Jeez, Dox, way to make a girl lose her cool and professional demeanor…” Rita tried to laugh it off, but she’d been deeply touched by that news, and the curvaceous commander wore her heart on her sleeve. "Thank you, ma'am. That... that means a lot to me."

On the other side of the small coffee table separating the two, Jaeih sat with a tight, controlled and fairly neutral expression on her face. Though Rita could clearly see the slight curls in the corners of the stern Romulan's cheeks, threatening to crack the well trained facade.

"Just so you know," Rita, in tried and true Paris fashion, changed course. "She doesn't have the clearance to come see you, but we'll make arrangements if I have to walk her to the door myself. I'll be honest- I wanted to see you first. I know that your relationship has not always been close, and I didn't want to come with her and intrude, and I didn't want to come afterward to seem as though I was defending her, because she's fully capable of that on her own. Honestly, I just wanted you to know how she is and how she's doing before you met, so you had a little more to go on, since there are so many particulars she cannot share with you."

Pausing, Paris wiped at her cheeks and laughed self-consciously as she sniffled. "Some pillar of decorum I am..."

And it was at that news that Jaeih's facade cracked further. The tension that kept her sitting ramrod straight had released, and revealed the sigh of deep relief on the part of a mother. "Th... Thank you Commander. I am... I was..."

Snapping back up to restore some degree of her bearing, but maintaining a slight warble to her voice as she spoke. "I was... afraid that your presence here... instead of her meant she did not wish to see me. I was. Thank you."

It was clear as her dark eyes had begun to shine that Jaeih had tears of her own in check. But she quickly shifted the focus away from her own emotional reaction of which she was slightly embarrassed. "And in regard to Mnhei'sahe not having told you what I revealed, we can consider ourselves even. We've both now told the other something that my daughter would likely have preferred to tell each of us herself."

Referring back to Rita's mention of Dox officially changing her name back from 'Melanie' to 'Mnhei'sahe', Jaeih allowed herself a slight, sly smile and a small joke. "I can keep that to myself if you can."

“For a gal who works for Starfleet Intelligence I’m terrible at keeping secrets, ma’am,” Paris admitted. “But I’ll not say a thing, you have my word as an officer.” As she spoke the words, it would sound terribly naïve to most. But to Rita Paris, being a Starfleet officer was her life, and it was one of the things she genuinely considered sacred- her word and duty as an officer. “If you wish, we can consider this conversation confidential, and Miss Dox need not know I was ever here. Although I do hope you don’t choose that, because I’d prefer to be honest with her. She trusts me, and that trust is not easy to come by, y’know?”

Her tone became serious again as Jaieh responded. "I let her believe a host of lies for over twenty five years. And to protect her... and myself... from that pain I reinforced that lie."

She sat back in the chair and sighed. "My little moment of jest aside, I will never lie to my daughter again, Commander. Nor would I ever ask you to."

While Rita began to point out that a lie of omission was different, it was splitting hairs, and it wasn’t what was called for here. Never argue lies with a Romulan. “I cannot judge the past, ma’am. I wasn’t there, I wasn’t in those situations and I wasn’t the one called upon to make those decisions. Those times and those truths are between the two of you.” Pausing to consider, Paris leaned in to place her empty coffee cup on the table.

“There might be words, there might be recriminations, there might be lots of things- I don’t know what the future will hold, nor will I prognosticate, because frankly it’s none of my business. It’s a family affair, between a mother and child. I’m just the officer over her, who needed to tell you what a great kid you raised, who has become a fine officer.” The bombastic blonde shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs demurely with practiced ease. “I know there’s so much that I can’t say, but I hope that what I have told you made you proud of her. Because we're damn proud of her, and it’s important to me that you know that as well.”

"I meant what I said earlier, Commander. I have never been anything but proud of my Daughter." Then Jaeih nodded slightly towards Paris. "That said, what you've told me has certainly... enhanced that for me."

Sensing that the visit was drawing to a close, Jaeih sat back up a little straighter. "I know Starships don't make it back here often, but I found this exchange surprisingly pleasant. I would not object if you were to return in the future."

There was risk involved, but Paris played it all the same. “This is the planet of my birth, the world that will always be home to me. I haven’t been back for many, many years, and I’ll admit, it takes some getting used to all of the changes. But this will always be where I return, no matter how far I venture or how long it takes me to make my way back." Rising from the couch, Paris smoothed out her skirt in a maneuver that she had perfected a dozen decades before. "So long as you are still here, far from your own homeworld, I would be honored to be your guest when I return, Mrs. Dox.”

“I appreciate that you were willing to see me, and to hear me out, ma'am. It’s been an honor.”

The words might have been hollow pleasantries, but the woman had no guile. As she’d pointed out, she would make a terrible liar, because her emotions and passions were always right at the surface. There was no lack of self-control, but it was clear that she understood people and did her best to control situations, insuring a positive outcome without manipulating the other party.

The two women stood and exchanged the slightly awkward pleasantries and the prerequisite handshake as Rita Paris made her exit. Leaving Mnhei'sahe's mother Jaeih Dox standing alone again, in the center of her spacious gilded cage. The emotionally reserved Romulan engineer took a deep breath, as her mind ran back over the unusual encounter that had just ended. As per usual, she had expected yet another pompous uniform spouting friendly lies and filled with false promises.

But Jaieh Dox was quite impressed with the encounter with perhaps the single most unusual human she had ever encountered. In spite of her best efforts to remain guarded, she couldn't help but respect her daughter's Commander- and shew understand what Mnhei'sahe saw in her.

An honest human. Would wonders never cease.

The cramped, two person rented shuttle decended from cruising altitude into Central Ohio airspace as Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox punched in landing coordinates into the simplistic helm of the slightly musty rental. One of the smaller shuttles from the Hera would have been faster to bring Dox and First Officer Rita Paris from San Francisco to the rural town of Loudonville, Ohio, but one of the downsides of serving a top secret Starfleet Intelligence ship was not being able to announce that station.

As such, Dox was instead wearing casual civilian clothes as opposed to her crimson uniform. Still, her Starfleet Comm Badge was affixed to the left breast of the snug, black sweater she wore. It was hidden, however, by the olive green denim jacket she wore over it.

As the shuttle approached a landing station on the edge of the Town square, Dox turned to Rita Paris sitting in the seat next to her. "The town isn't zoned for even small shuttles. Just hover vehicles and the like, so it'll be a little bit of walking for a bit."

Then the redheaded Romulan took on a slightly melencholy expression. "And... uh... thanks for tagging along. I appreciate it. And, ya' know, for prodding me off the ship while we're here."

"I didn't tell you? We're going sightseeing, you and I. That's the price for me coming along with you here- you have to let me show you some of the cities of Earth, our great wonders and natural beauty." Rita Paris stepped out of the shuttle to take a stretch, and it was eye-popping to see for the locals. Clad in a simple cotton plaid button-up shirt and a pair of snug denim overalls, a pair of cowboy boots added a slightly lesser heel than her normal one.

Yet despite being as striking as she was, somehow Paris managed to look like a local.

"We're pilots, Miss Dox. We see the terrain much differently than others, and we see it best from an altitude. So we'll be doing that, but right here and now... small town USA, as they still like to call it, even though everything came under a blanket global Federation representation years ago. But we're humans, and we often identify by our region as well as our ancestry. So the USA thing never really died out." Grinning like it was all about her, the enthusiastic executive struck a vampish pose on the shuttle. "Last of the American girls, right here."

Following Rita out of the shuttle, Dox slipped on a black cap that actually made her restored Romulan ears stick out a bit more than usual. "Then you'll love this town. It's as 'Americana' as it gets. Half the region still has architecture that dates back to the mid 20th century. Most of the houses are older than that."

The perpetually anxious aviatrix turned to look down the overtly quaint main Street that looked like a Norman Rockwell painting brought to life, but for the hovering vehicles and holographic traffic signage. "I mean, I haven't been back here since I left for the academy and that was over ten years ago, but it looks the same to me."

"The buildings from these eras are time travelers. They were built so solidly that they're still in use. The big industrial replicators to assemble prefab buildings are in the large population centers with IKEA patterns. Out here, it's a different life. Slower," Paris explained as a hoverbike roared down the dusty road, followed by a careening unsafe driver in a shuttle with an open cargo bed.

"Yet faster in some ways, with less regard for personal safety," the California girl added with a smirk. So where do you want to go? Hit the homestead, see the old digs? Hit the pizza place where you used to hang out? Look up the garage loft where you wrote nihilistic poetry and practiced eyeshadow with a pencil?"

Letting an unguarded laugh out at Rita's joke. "Yeah, no. No poetry to dig up." Then the somewhat more relaxed officer smirked. "I do have some... stuff in storage on the other side of town I want sent back to Starfleet so we can have it sent to the ship."

"Which does require passing my favorite restaurant. You hungry?" Dox replied, starting to walk backwards towards town as she smiled at Rita. After her few short months on board, the two officers had become quite close as friends and Dox was much more comfortable separating 'Commander Paris' from 'Rita' when they were off duty.

"When could I NOT eat?" Paris quipped in reply. "This is actually native cuisine for me, made by natives, so it's a treat. What have we got, pizza, burgers, breakfast, buffet bar? What's your favorite restaurant, Mnhei'sahe?"

As they moved into the center of town, the architecture was something of of a time capsule of classic 'Main Street U.S.A.' nostalgia and the shopfronts were mostly antique shops. Their pace was slightly less intense than Rita Paris' usual military stride, but still far faster than everyone else on the sidewalks.

"Just a diner up here on the corner of Baker. They have a little bit of everything, but I spent an awful lot of time hiding in a booth in the corner reading or studying. Really good cheeseburgers and the best beef stew I've ever had." It was a slightly strange feeling for Dox at how quickly her memories of the town she spend four years in as a teenager returned to her.

She had never felt remarkably comfortable here, but was trying to give this period of her life a second chance and was trying to see it through Rita's eyes. Because the native Earth girl was waving, being friendly and watching the locals.

More than a few of them were giving askance glances to the pointy-eared dumpling in the denim jacket. 'Here's hoping this is the small town experience that's welcoming to outsiders,' Paris thought to herself as they strolled up the sidewalk to the old white and chrome diner with large windows, a staple of the north American experience named, of all things, 'Space Diner' with a colorfully lit retro rocket as a sign.

"Can't remember the last time I had an actual beef hamburger..." Paris admitted as they walked through the swinging glass front door, a bell jingling as they did so.

Dox found herself smiling authentically as the walked in to the small chrome plated diner. The restaurant was about half filled with locals who filled most of the booths along the back, but there were plenty of empty stools at the bar. "That was the booth in question." Dox pointed at the occupied booth while the two made their way to the open bar to sit.

Her restored Romulan ears picked up on some of the whispered conversations at the rear tables as the locals were talking amongst themselves about the two. But so far, the chatter was limited to simple curiosity.

An older man walked over and handed the pair of undercover explorers menus with a smile. "Ladies, I'll be right back to get your order." Grabbing two plates of steaming food from the kitchen behind the bar, he walked into the dining room at a pace quicker than his age would suggest.

"Oooh, eggs! Grits, oh I haven't had grits in so long... and they have homefries and toast and jam and pancakes!" Browsing the menu, Paris was overjoyed to find local cuisine she didn't have to create herself to teach the replicator how to make it, only to find the replicated version was not as good. "Bacon, extra crispy specify when you order!"

The blonde bombardier was practically beside herself with joy over breakfast foods as their server arrived. "What can I get for you two ladies?"

"I'll have the big breakfast, eggs over easy with the hash browns and the grits. I'd like cheese and mushrooms with my hash brows please, and make sure they're crispy. I'll have the toast and the pancakes, and maple syrup please, real if you have it. A cup of coffee and a glass of water. And three strips of crispy bacon, please." While the curvy commander lived mostly vegan to be harmonious in eating habits with her spouse, who made no demands that she do so, Rita did keep bacon as a little treat for herself from time to time, and in a diner on Earth in the middle of the heartland, she was not going to pass up the opportunity to try some of the real thing.

Writing it all down, the older gentleman's face wore a bemused look as if he wondered where she was going to put all of that food, then he turned to take the redheaded Romulan's order. As he did so his eyes narrowed and he cocked his head curiously.

"Melanie...?" he asked, unsure of himself.

For a moment, Dox was lost in thought, smiling as she watched Rita gush over the menu when the sound of the name she had lived with for most of her life, but had recently left behind, snapped her out of her distraction.

The last time she had been in this diner was over a decade ago and she was an extremely different person, but somehow the older man had recognized and remembered her. "Uh... Yeah. Dox, Mnh... Melanie Dox."

The older gentleman, a slightly paunchy man with a heavily wrinkled but chubby face and thinning silver hair smiled broadly. "I thought I recognized you. Shawn and Juliet Dox's granddaughter, right?"

His face dropped a little as his tone shifted slightly. "I was sorry to hear when they passed." After a brief pause, his face returned to a pleasant smile that Dox was now remembering, although she was struggling to recall his name and failing.

"Um... Thank you." She said, softly.

"Ben, Ben Shepherd, s'okay, most folks don't remember my name and they live here. So what can I get for ya Miss Dox?" In a standard midwestern manner he continued on, using the honorific he would have anyway, adding her name now that he was assured of it. Which was how also how the very human Rita Paris so often referred to the little lieutenant.

Smiling a little awkwardly, Dox rubber her ear as she looked back down at the menu. Then a broad smile crept across her chunky cheeks. "The Beef stew, please. I haven't found any half as good anywhere else. And a glass of water, please."

"Sounds good to me, ladies. I'll get right on that, thank you." He said as he stepped into the back of the kitchen.

The local to the planet was loving it, watching the old beat-up grav sleds pull in and out of parking spaces. Not everything here was replicated, people still went to town for supplies and socialization and the small tribes and communities at the heart of a long ago agrarian lifestyle were still alive and well in a small town in Ohio. Which thoroughly enchanted the sailor of the stars, who breathed it in deeply, dust and all. "So this seems like a cute little town to stop in but not the most fun to grow up in, because everybody knew everybody else's business, and when you were the new kid, there was all this mystery about you, and then somebody said-"

"Romulan?!?"

The envisionarily enabled executive was cut off by a local who had just walked in the front door, which Paris had her back to but Mnhei'sahe could see, as a paunchy fellow about her age stepped in with a woman and presumably their child, dressed as a junior version of his father. Scooting the wife off to tend to the child, he swaggered over to the table to inspect first Dox, then Paris, lingering a bit on Paris, who leaned back and smiled blankly at him, which brought a leer to his lips that was particularly telling. Turning to meet the eye of the returning Romulan, the local nodded enthusiastically.

"Knew it'z you. Lookitchoo, done got your ears did and a tomboy haircut and a..." Looking at Dox's short cut, then back to Rita's 'I'd like to speak to the manager', he nodded knowingly. "Hot damn, and you done scored you the purtiest girlfriend in the galaxy, too. The hell you doin' back in Loudonville?"

For a moment, Dox squinted slightly as she pieced together fragments of the few teenage years she lived here trying to remember specifically which antagonist of her youth she was dealing with. The name wasn't coming to her, but the memories of living through his verbal abuse was, as her face went flush with anger.

"I'm here for lunch." Dox replied as the knot of anxiety that seemed to live in her stomach tightened up. "What are you here for, then?" She asked, somewhat aggressively.

"We're here for lunch too!" he grinned. "Best beef stew in town. Hey, I hear you done run off and joined Starfleet after graduation, zat right?" As he spoke the local's gaze drifted back to her ears more than once.

For a moment, Dox wanted to brag about how far away from this town she had truly gone. She also wanted to just punch him in the throat and collapse his trachea for everything she could remember from high school. But everything had consequences and Starfleet officers can't get into fights with civilians and Starfleet officers on the U.S.S. Hera can't talk about what they do.

Instead, the angry officer put on a smile and tilted her head to the side. "I just got far enough away to know that this place has the best beef stew in the quadrant. Worth the occasional visit. That's all. Enjoy your lunch." Dox nodded in the direction of the table his presumed family had gone to and turned around on her stool.

The local got a disgruntled look on his face, but took the hint. "Aight, aight, well, I'll seeya around then, ah... Dox, right? Mary or somethin...?"

For a second, Dox thought for a moment of ending the situation easily and saying 'Melanie'. But she smiled as she turned over her shoulder and instead replied, somewhat drawn out on each syllable. "Men-hey-say. Mnhei'sahe Dox."

"Splains why I couldn't remember it, that's fer sure," the local opined as he headed to the table where his wife and child awaited him.

Turning back towards the counter, Dox smirked with an exaggerated look of faux embarrassment as she whispered to Rita. "For the life of me, I cannot remember that guys name."

"See, the locals aren't unfriendly, just uncouth," Rita whispered with practiced ease where the sensitive Vulcanoid hearing could hear her but most nearby could not. "Give your old home town a chance. You don't have to go to high school, which is a blessing, and you get to leave. So it should be a lot better this time around, right?"

Smirking, Dox took a drink of the water that had been served while she had been talking then whispered back. "Well, this time I got the 'purtiest girlfriend in the galaxy' with me." She snorted a little as she said it, shaking her head lightly.

Hooking her thumbs in the denim shoulder straps, Paris beamed, "It's the overalls. They make me look accessible because I'm wearing these and I'm smiling, so I must be a moron. Because only morons and farmers wear overalls, right?" To emphasize the point, Paris smiled with a practiced vacant-eyed stare into the distance.

That broke the tension, then their food arrived, and conversation became quite secondary.

After finishing their meals, or at least as much of it as Rita could manage, the pair continued their walk through the town that had once, for a brief few years, been Mnhei'sahe Dox's home. They talked and laughed as Dox shared memories, both pleasant and disastrous.

But time and good company had a way of making it easier for the young part-Romulan pilot to remember that her time here wasn't always bad. That this place had it's own kind of beauty that she had actively tried not to see the first time around.

Near the edge of town, they arrived at their destination. It was a sprawling storage complex with fairly modern architecture that seemed amazingly out of place in the quaint little Ohio town otherwise stuck in a different era, predating even the time tossed Rita Paris by a few centuries.

The storage compartments were all accessible from the outside, and after a few minutes of walking, Dox stopped in front of one and paused, lingering for a moment with a sigh.

"I think this is where I'm supposed to have some sort of wisdom about facing your past, but I'm crap at that. I keep losing my past," Paris pointed out. "When I went to the Academy, Daddy recycled my entire room and gave himself a second den. When I was declared KIA on the Constitution, they recycled my quarters and I lost everything. I'm sure they did the same for my quarters on the Exeter."

"So maybe if you can recover a few pieces of yours it might be worthwhile, eh?" Rita shrugged. They couldn't all be winners.

Pulling a small key card from her jacket pocket, Dox looked at it, then back to Rita. "You had your past taken from you. I ran away from mine as far as warp speed could take me. It's not fair." She wished she could open the unit door and somehow restore what Rita had lost too. But all she could do was be glad she had a friend at her side and hope that she could be half as good a friend in return. "But... thanks. Thanks for coming."

"Emotional support I got covered," Rita offered a thumbs up. "I'm here for you, Mnhei'sahe. So take a trip down memory lane, hm?"

Entering the key card, the large metal door rolled open. "Most of this isn't mine. It's theirs. My grandparents, collected after they died. I was on a starbase on the other side of the Galaxy when I found out."

The lights turned on as Dox stepped in to the room, half filled with boxes. "Technically, my father could claim most of this when he gets out of prison if he wants it. My stuff is over here. Just a couple of boxes they're going to beam to a unit in San Francisco after we leave, then to Starfleet then the ship."

Next to the small pile of boxes marked 'Melanie', was something covered with a large tarp, approximately two meters long and a meter or so high.

"So are you going to save his folk's stuff for your dad, then?" Rita asked, peeking into a box or two.

"He'll have to fight me over it legally. The storage unit is mine and I'm not giving it up to him." Dox replied with something of an edge to her voice. The one part of her past her feelings we no longer mixed was over her father.

"But..." Dox said with a pause where she lightened her tone, "What I really wanted to get out of here, no matter how impractical it is to bring to a Starship, is this." She pulled the tarp back, revealing a vintage hoverbike.

Mounted on a small a frame, the hoverbike was a matte greenish gray about two meters long with a long double seat of cracked leather. "This was my goth poetry, Rita. I spent two years putting this back together from parts I salvaged from junk yards. This is what I worked on when I really wanted to kick the crap of people at school."

"Why Dox, I wouldn't have taken you for an engineer. Look at this old girl!" the ancient astronaut's enthusiasm for the hoverbike was genuine, as she liked speedy vehicles just like her fellow pilot, and she was glad to see Dox claiming parts of her past. "Think she's still got any life left in the power cells?"

"On the Forager, everything was constantly breaking down, so I had to learn how to keep her running as best as possible. I'm no engineer, but I think I did okay." Dox leaned over the side towards the back and pulled a cord from the wall out of the side of the bikes engine that had been covered by the tarp, waving it at Rita with a smirk. "And I called ahead from San Francisco. She's fully charged."

"Well then open her up and take her for a joyride, Miss Dox," Rita encouraged, pleased to see Mnhei'sahe planning ahead. "I have nowhere to go and nothing to do, and I can poke around in your grandparent's junk for a while and see if they kept any antiques that look like futuristic devices to me. Go indulge the need... the need... for speed!"

"I can't argue with that idea, Commander." Smiling, Dox punched a four digit code into a pad on the control panel on the hoverbike, and seconds later, the nearly antique vehicle hummed to life. After a brief moment, the bike began to hover in place, which made it easy for Dox to push out of the unit to the outside.

Grabbing her old helmet from the storage space under the seat, Dox hopped up on to her old hoverbike. Pulling the dark green helmet on, she smiled back at Rita Paris. "But you get the next ride." Then, Dox pulled the bike off down the path outside and into the air.

Circling the storage complex, Dox had a massive smile across her face. It had been over ten years since she had ridden the hoverbike and she felt like a kid again. In that moment, her anxiety was gone and the bitter, old memories that this town carried for her melted away.

Arcing the bike high over the treeline, Dox felt like she was 17 again and the controls came.back to her like second nature. The bike wasn't designed to fly quite that high, of course, but Mnhei'sahe had done a fair bit of customization while she worked on it. Then she thought about it and became momentarily sad, remembering that her grandfather had tried more than a few times to offer to help her. But in her anger at all things Human, she pushed him away.

Pushed everyone away, and now she had to face the idea that this town might never have been as unaccepting of her as it was had she not actively refused to let it in. To let them in. She pushed the bike to it's maximum speed as she brought it low over the nearby river as her eyes teared up slightly. So much of her life had been missed opportunities to not see what was right in front of her.

Pulling back, the bike raced into an arc back over the storage facility where she could see the open door to her unit. Inside, she imagined Rita Paris looking through the boxes as she had said and smiled at the thought of the woman who had become like a sister to her in such a short period of time. And Rita was one of many friends made on the Hera that Mnhei'sahe could count on as family. An idea that had become as alien to her as this town once felt but that had become a source of comfort. She looked forward knowing that she wasn't going to make those same mistakes and push these people away. She wasn't going to shut them out.

Continuing to fly, Mnhei'sahe was glad and grateful now that Rita had been so encouraging to her to try and reconnect not just with her Romulan roots...

But her human ones as well.

As Mnhei'sahe Dox had taken her old hoverbike out for a spin to relive old times and the only freedom she had likely ever felt living in a small town on earth, her friend Rita Paris was left behind, pawing through the storage boxes and bins that were the life’s collection of her grandparents, Shawn and Juliet Dox. As their only son was in prison, their daughter in law estranged and unavailable, the dispensation of their worldly goods had fallen to their granddaughter to manage, who had simply had it all shoved into storage.

Thus while Mnhai'sahe was feeling the wind on her face, Rita Paris was exploring the past.

The pieces of a life are odd things to wander through, a menagerie of possessions that tell tales about their owners, yet gave an incomplete picture without context. A carved wooden skee-ball was in one box, but why it was there was beyond the stranger to their lives. A very old lamp with a heavy stained glass shade was in one box, which was no antique Tiffany lamp, but was clearly a family heirloom as it would have been old in Rita’s day. A sailing ship in a bottle was a novelty that she had set aside, planning to ask Dox if she could have it, as she thought it would make a sweet gift for the piratical Baroness. A leopard print coffee cup with a small sculpted leopard looking up from inside the cup would make a nice gift for the spotted captain. An antique camera might make a nice gift for Thex.

Feeling guilty, Rita realized she was shopping for her friends and shipmates while going through family heirlooms of the Dox family, and she felt a bit sheepish.

After a short while, the drone of the hoverbike engine thumped closer as Dox brought it to a stop near the open door to the storage unit. Pulling the helmet off and sitting it over the handlebars, the red-headed part-Romulan woman was still a windblown mess. "If you want to take her for a spin, she's all yours, Rita."

Then Dox paused, noticing Rita seemed a little off as she went through the boxes. "Are... are you okay?"

Looking up suddenly, it was clear that the girl anachronism had been lost in reverie as she put down the family quilt she had been holding. Mnhei'sahe knew that look- it was the look Rita tended to get when she considered her past, and all that she had lost when catapulted from the past to the modern day, 130 years out of time. While most of the time she casually referenced it or occasionally she might make a very dated reference, her chronological confusion seldom reared its head unless it was a moment of her simply being thoroughly ignorant of a modern event or technology, which she tended to take in stride. Now, poking through old boxes of her grandparent’s junk, something had set Rita’s ‘wayback machine’ as she sometimes jokingly referred to her moments of getting lost in the past.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m… fine. I’m okay,” Paris smiled, but it was clear that her cheeks were still wet from tears and her eyes looked a bit red. It might have been from the dust, but it was unlikely.

Tilting her head to the side, Dox ached an eyebrow towards her friend that said 'really?' She stepped in next to Rita and leaned against the box. "Now, you wouldn't let me get away with that, so talk to me. I know that look."

"Oh do you now?" Cocking an eyebrow to look down at the shorter woman, the pretty pilot smirked. “I see my lessons have come back to bite me on the rear,” Rita joked, then she pulled a sculpture of a fireman out of the box, hefting it thoughtfully in her hands.

“When they put me back together the first time, Starfleet Psych took my case because I was a wreck. Part of my therapy in learning how to stay connected to the physical world was possessions. The doctors advised me to surround myself with objects that made me happy, that reminded me of good times, good friends, good experiences. Also, having a lot of luggage made it easier for me to beg off transporting and take a shuttle. Which worked great until I lost everything again, and I find myself starting over again.”

“Except now I have no ties to my past- it isn’t my past, I’m not from this reality. Rita Paris’ story from this reality is not my story, and even if it was, none of her things were my things, and they were 130 years in the past. So what I am trying to say, in my own maudlin and long-winded way, is that looking through your grandparent’s things, I find little pieces of Earth that I recognize, that are a touchstone to my home. It just… it makes me a little sad, that’s all.” Making eye contact once more, Paris smiled.

“But enough about the old lady problems. How was your bike, how was the ride, seeing the old town again?” Deftly Rita changed course, as she so often did- an intuitive navigator at heart.

Being a pilot herself, however, Dox decided to steer the proverbial ship back around. "It was great. As good as I remembered. But what about this stuff," Dox picked up a commemorative plate with a painting of the Golden Gate bridge on it.

"Sure, they aren't from your life either, but they sure seem to be evoking memories. Feelings, at least. And I've got a lot of people telling me how it's good for me to explore those feelings rather than changing the subject." Then she smiled warmly up at her time-tossed friend. "No uniforms, just us Rita. Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid and petty,” Paris sighed. “I just… I see all this old junk, and they are all ties to your life, your origins, your roots, and… I’m a little jealous, you know? You have roots you don’t want, and looking through and seeing all of this,” Rita picked up souvenir magnet advertising ‘Scenic Sheboygan!’ and sighed. “I look through it all and see treasures, lost artifacts of the past that are still forty, fifty, sixty years after my time. And you don’t want any of it- to you they are just bad memories and crap that you want nothing to do with. But I’d kill to have a storage unit full of junk like this. I was going through picking out pieces that would make nice gifts for our friends, and… yeah. Like I said, it’s stupid and petty.”

Sighing, Dox's eyes dipped slightly. "It's not that I don't want it. It's more that... Ive just been afraid to try and reconnect with it until recently. Afraid to try and look back through fresh eyes at the..." Dox paused as she thought, then looked back at Rita. "At the mistakes I've made. But I got some good advice lately that it's not too late for me to find a positive connection."

"Looking at you with this stuff, I think I know one way I can do that." Dox pulled out a framed photo of her Grandparents from when they were younger. "This was a family I pushed away. But now I have a new family... And I want to share this with..."

Putting the picture down, the young part-Romulan that was also Part-Human felt her throat choke up slightly. "I want to share this with that family. With you."

Reaching over, Rita wrapped her arm around the shoulders of the renegade Romulan and squeezed a bit. “Thanks, Mnhei’sahe. I do have a family now, so I guess I am sinking down roots, right? I toldya it was petty and selfish,” Paris sighed. “Sometimes I forget how good I have it in the present because I get fixated on what I lost in the past. I suspect a counselor would tell me that’s not healthy…”

Returning the hug, the shorter young redhead chuckled. "We actually have a pretty good one of those now, ya' know."

Then she leaned back a bit to look back up at Rita. "But I'm serious. When I was out there riding, I thought about it. And I decided, this is all coming back to the ship. If my father wants it, he can come find me on my amazing, classified Starship and ask nice before I tell him no."

The red-headed Romulan let out a slight chuckle. "And Apparently I'm getting my own pirate ship, of all things, that I can store this all with while we go through it. But I say 'we' because, well, this belonged to my family. That's you now. If there's anything in here that puts a smile on your face for any reason, it's yours. Keep it, gift it, whatever you think feels right."

Dox stepped back, looking at the boxes and wiping a tear from her cheek. "These things didn't mean anything to me when they should have. I want them to mean something. Now they can."

“That's... really very kind of you, Dox. Thank you," Paris choked up a bit herself, then like the intuitive navigator she was, turned on a dime. "Private pirate ship you say? Well, Cap’n told me the night I came board I could always get a captaincy in the Artan fleet. Looks like she wasn’t kidding. Congratulations!” she grinned at Dox, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Seriously…. That’s very sweet of you, and… thanks. I’m not about to go bothering my not-descendants and stirring that up, so… this is... it's very sweet, and I appreciate it. You're a good friend to me, Miss Dox, and I do appreciate it more than you know."

Gently picking up the ship in a bottle, she showed it to Mnhei'sahe, “See? You just know the Baroness would love this, and she’s probably never seen anything like it before."

Smiling, Dox nodded briskly. "Absolutely. It's perfect. I think she'll love it too." Then the Redheaded Romulan tilted her head slightly as she switched back for a moment to the earlier mention of her impending Pirate ship.

"Did you not know about the ship? I guess I just assumed the Captain mentioned it or something. I didn't really know how to file a report on being declared a Pirate Baroness."

That started her, and Rita made a confused face at Dox. "Ahhh, no, not in my briefing. I guess I'm fleet business, that's pirate business, so... the Baroness. Right, no, she didn't mention and I didn't know..." Those fine features contorted into a bit of a frown.

"I'm happy for you, just make sure that you never arrive at divided loyalties. Since the pirates are considered privateers by the Federation, apparently they are okay with it- which means that being Starfleet and being a pirate should be easily accommodated, as neither is in conflict with the other. But when you are on pirate business you are still held accountable as a Starfleet officer, and I'd wager visa-versa. So enjoy yourself, and I suspect you will have some epic adventures, just always keep one eye to that point, if you will." At that, Rita rolled her eyes.

"See? This is the part that I suck at. Turning it off. We're on vacation, you tell me some awesome good news and I lecture you about minding responsibility conflicts. I am going to talk my kids to death someday. I'm sorry- I'm happy for you, congratulations on your barony, Baroness Dox, which apparently comes with a sweet ride, gimme five!" Paris held up her hand with her open palm toward Dox.

Awkwardly, Dox returned the high five with an crooked grin. "Yeah. Its... It's super weird. And as for your concerns, rest assured that I share the hell out of them, and I know which way my arrow points." She pulled back her jacket to her Starfleet Comm Badge hidden under it.

"Well said, Miss Dox, well said." Pulling a Viewmaster out of a box, she held it up to her eyes and peered through it. "I'm glad I came on this trip. Thanks for inviting me along. This is fun."

As they talked, the two continued to pull various items out of the different boxes. Passing each piece along, some were set aside that Mnhei'sahe had fond memories of. One, a large patchwork quilt and another a set of photographs of her grandparents. But most were items that would go to the members of her new family on the Hera.

The Starfleet girl born and bred in San Fransisco claimed the plate with the painting of the Golden Gate bridge excitedly along with a box worth of items that all evoked smiles and warm feeling. An old pair of boxing gloves, a series of landscape images in simple wooden frames. A ghostly child's toy that was a squishy stress ball shaded an odd off-green color that she excitedly pointed out glowed in the dark with bioluminescence, which was apparently miraculous to the throwback earthling.

As the day passed into the afternoon, the two laughed and talked until the boxes were resorted, repacked and tagged for transport later. Replacing the hoverbike inside, Mnhei'sahe closed and locked the large metal door as the two stood outside.

"Okay, so there's a human tradition. When we die, many still prefer to be buried in the earth. From it we spring and to it we return, kind of a circle of life. The place where you're buried, they place a marker to commemorate you. So that people can come and connect with you, where your mortal remains lie buried in the earth. Look, I didn't come up with all of this, I just report it. Thing is, that whole having a one-sided conversation with a tombstone- that's what the marker is called- I always found it kind of soothing."

"If you'd like to try it... it's called visiting," Rita explained. Shaking her head because somehow she never expected to be standing in Ohio explaining human grief therapy to a Romulan shipmate. The easygoing earthling held out a small PaDD with a map on it.

"Dox, would you like to go visit your grandparents?"

Looking at the PaDD in Rita's hand, Dox froze for what felt like forever. Slowly, she reached her hand out and took it. In her mind, she could her the voice of Baroness Schwein Von Alcott from a few weeks ago back on the Hera. When Dox had discovered that the literal embodiment of Death was on board and had a message for the conflicted young woman.

It was a message Schwein conveyed about her Grandparents that said, 'there's still time to do right by them if you just know where to look.'

Looking at the PaDD, tears welled up in her eyes. "Y... yes I would."

"Awwwww," Rita blubbered and enveloped the smaller woman in a bosomy hug. "It's okay. Shhh, it's okay. I'll drive."



Pioneer Cemetery was located north of Loudonville, on County Road 175. It was an unremarkable patch of gently sloped terrain, with a collection of stone carvings rising up to varying heights, none higher than the hip. Names and legends were carved into the smooth faces of the primarily rectangular masonry. The Fedepedia Guide to Earth was surprisingly comprehensive, as the gravesites of Shawn and Juliet Dox were marked with coordinates, where they had been buried side by side with one grave marker for them both.

Stepping out of the shuttle, Rita peered into the late afternoon sun out at the graveyard. "Wow. Some things never change in the human condition. That's... that's comforting, really."

"I kinda think this is a mission you need to fly solo, Lieutenant," Paris said plainly. "I'll be over here. You take your time, go have yourself a real good one-way commcall to the afterlife, and you say whatcha gotta say."

"I'll be here when you're ready to go." With that, Paris stepped off into the field to admire the landscape, take in the sounds and the scents and the feel of the breath of the planet on her skin, because she was home.

Watching Rita walk off on her own, Dox turned back towards the tombstones of her grandparents. The conflicted half-Romulan, half-human woman stood there for what felt like yet another eternity, not knowing what to say or do. She had no idea if this was what Death was talking about regarding her still being able to make right with them, but it seemed like it at least couldn't hurt.

"H... hi." She whispered under her breath. "It's me. Mnh... Melanie, I guess. Or maybe you know everything from wherever you are with me changing my name and..." Dox rolled her eyes at herself. She was rambling, trying to talk to ghosts.

"Anyway, I... I wanted to come and see you. I wanted to try and talk to you if that makes any sense. I know that I was a... a pain in the ass. When Starfleet contacted you about me, you didn't even know that I existed at that point. He... my father... you hadn't spoken to him in years. You didn't know he married a Romulan woman or had a little girl with her. But you still opened up your home to a total stranger." The young pilot wiped a tear from her face as she spoke.

"I don't know if you're here... if you can hear me. But with everything I've seen since joining the Hera..." Pausing for a second, Dox actually smiled slightly as she let out a small laugh. "I guess I can actually talk about my assignment with you. Well, since joining the Hera, I've seen things and met beings that defy everything I ever thought could be real, so I guess it's not such a leap to hope you're here."

Taking a moment, Dox slowly sat down on the cool ground in front of the markers to continue. "I wanted to say... I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so angry about everything in my life that I never stopped to appreciate you. I'm sorry that I never gave you a chance to be the grandparents you were trying so hard to be for me. I'm sorry that I pushed you away." She was openly crying now as she spoke. The words pushed out with a hoarse crackle.

"I've... I've made friends on the Hera. And they've..." Then Dox gestured over her shoulder to the direction Rita had walked off in. "She's been reminding me that I can be a Romulan and a human and that the two ideas don't have to fight each other. She's helping me try to be a better person. I wish you could have met her. I wish I could have met her when you were still here. Maybe things could have gone... maybe I wouldn't have ruined everything between us."

Taking a moment to collect herself, Dox looked around at the trees as late afternoon light dappled through the leaves. "I never appreciated how beautiful this place could be. And it's just something else I've got regrets about." She took a breath. "But I wanted to tell you that... that I don't want to let those regrets hold me back anymore. I want to remember you the way it should have been. I want to be the granddaughter you deserved when you were here."

She stood back up and pulled her jacket back so her Starfleet badge was visible. "I wear this everywhere I go. It... means something to me. I thought for a long time when I discovered that my given name was Mnhei'sahe. I decided to reclaim that part of me. But wherever I go in this universe, I will remain Mnhei'sahe DOX. And I will carry that name... that part of myself that you gave me for the rest of my life."

"I won't forget what you were for me even if I didn't let you be that when you were still here. Please know that no matter what, I know that you... that you loved me in spite of myself. And please know that even though I never knew how to say it then, I'm saying it now. I love you too. I love both of you."

Standing alone for a full five minutes, Mnhei'sahe Dox was quiet. Perhaps, waiting for some kind of a sign that what she said was heard. After a while, she smiled, allowing herself to believe it was heard just fine. Regardless, she turned to walk back to Rita Paris, who she saw across the field. Far enough away to give Dox her privacy, but close enough to Dox know she was still there. Sitting cross-legged, likely meditating, the local gal opened her eyes slowly when she heard the approach of her friend, and she turned to squint into the late afternoon sun.

"So how did your visit go?" Paris asked as she stood, her voice gentle, knowing how emotional such visitations could be. "Y'okay, Dox?"

"Yeah. I think I'm okay." Dox replied, wiping her cheeks dry. "At least... at least I will be. I don't... I don't know if they heard me, but I'd like to think so. I hope so."

Looking down at her first officer and friend that she thought of as a sister now, the little lieutenant smiled. "When I was here, they tried so hard to let me know that I wasn't alone. I wasn't ready to hear it back then. But I wanted to let them know that I understand what they were trying to tell me. I wanted to let them know that it was okay. That I wasn't alone anymore."

Looking back over her shoulder, across the field at the cemetery, Dox smiled as Rita rose smoothly from the ground and draped her arm over the young Romulan woman's shoulder.

At their graves she didn't feel alone, and she wasn't alone standing there now. In her heart, Dox suspected that she would never be alone again.

“C’mon, you,” Paris hugged the stout little pilot briefly, then began walking her back to the shuttle. “There’s another Earth tradition that goes with this one. You go visit, you say all the things you never got to say, you feel better and worse, and then you get ice cream. I saw Sonia has an old-fashioned ice cream parlor in town… how about we finish out this particular ritual the right way?”

Smiling, Mnhei'sahe let a slight laugh out. "You are both the expert and my tutor in all things Human. So who am I to argue with your wisdom?" She replied with an exaggeratedly formal manner.

That brought forth a chuckle from the Earth girl from so long ago and far away. “I dunno about expert, but I am a student of the human condition. And don’t kid yourself, Miss Dox- while I tutor you, I learn from you as well. We learn from one another, because that’s how Starfleet works. Our diversity is our strength. That’s a big part of why I’ve devoted my life to it- because it’s a mission I believe in.”

“Just like you.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0BUsDf0dxY

In the turbolift at the headquarters of Starfleet Command, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox fidgeted nervously with her uniform. For the tenth time, she readjusted her crimson tunic and checked for stains on her Comm Badge. Over her shoulder was slung a small black duffle bag.

Currently she was on her way to do something she hadn't done in almost 7 years... stand in the same room as her mother. Her mother, Jaeih Dox, had been in the service of Starfleet for over 15 years since her capture as a smuggler and former Romulan Engineer and the last time the two spoke in person was after Dox had just graduated from the academy. However, at that time, Jaeih was simply in protective custody. Now she was interred as a consultant with Starfleet Intelligence, and it took a little doing for the young Lieutenant to get the clearance for a visit.

Standing beside her in the lift was her friend and First Officer, Rita Paris, who had bent over backwards to make it happen. The young lieutenant had seen a very different side of the friendly first officer when the guard assigned to the front desk of Starfleet Intel’s separate bank of turbolifts with Starfleet headquarters had attempted to refuse them entry. After a few pleasant inquiries had come a gentle request for the guard to allow Paris through with a +1. As he could not access Paris’ file for clearance, that in and of itself served as clearance in her case. But he remained adamant until Rita had grown creative.

“You know my name, Petty Officer Stantowicz. So that means that if I start making phone calls that I’ve been held up in the course of my official duties, whom do you suspect is going to be taking the call for Commander Paris’ clearance?”

It was a bluff, of course, because Admiral Owen Paris likely would not know Rita from Adam. But the advantage of bearing the name of a Starfleet legacy family was that people tended to not want to argue with it, lest they incur the wrath of the brass. Admiral Owen Paris was not someone any enlisted man wanted to tangle, so after an appropriate identification and sign in, with another argument over bringing in outside materials, they were on their way.

“I just want to be clear, Mnhei’sahe, I’m only here to throw my clout, such as it is, behind getting you in to see your mum. You two need time alone, and that’s what you’ll have. I’ll be outside when you’re done, but this is a mother and child reunion- no first officer is necessary unless there is one hell of a catastrophe. I don’t want nor do I need to intrude here… okay?” With all of the time they had spent together, Dox had learned how to understand the straight-shooting first officer, who said what she meant and meant what she said.

"I understand. And... and thank you for making this happen. Seriously." Dox continued looking forward in the lift as she spoke, working overtime to keep her nerves in check. She was excited and terrified all at the same time, but she was glad Rita was at least going to be nearby.

“You’d do the same for me, shipmate,” the ancient astronaut replied. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

With a woosh that actually made the anxious aviatrix flinch just a bit, the turbolift doors opened on the secure level where her Mother now lived. Taking a deep breath, Mnhei'sahe stepped out into the plain corridor with Rita behind her. Across from her was the door to Jaeih Dox's quarters.

Turning back, Dox flashed Rita a nervous smile, which was met by a knowing nod that clearly indicated You go on now, you got this.

Stepping forward, the door to her Mother's quarters wooshed open and Mnhei'sahe took a breath, stepping inside. The quarters were fairly large but undecorated, and standing in front of the far windows facing the door was Jaeih Dox.

The taller, slender Romulan woman had her hands behind her back for a moment, but upon watching Mnhei'sahe enter the room, her practiced, rigid posture slackened as her hands slumped to her sides. Her jaw opened slightly, and instead of her customary greeting of 'Jolan'tru’, she simply whispered, “M… Mnhei'sahe…”

She was prepared this time for a visitor, but was unprepared for the rush of emotions at the sight of her daughter in front of her for real. This wasn't a recorded message or a hologram. This was her daughter for real. Again, she whispered, “Mnhei'sahe.”

Across the room, Mnhei'sahe Dox was frozen in place, not knowing how to process her feelings as she replied with a cracked voice. “Jolan'tru, Mother.”

They stood for a moment in silence before Jaeih walked slowly towards her daughter. Stopping just an arm's length away, she raised a trembling hand up to touch the side of Mnhei'sahe's face softly. “You… you're here. You're really here. She said she would bring…”

“I'm here, Mother.” Mnhei'sahe replied, putting her hand over her mother's and holding it tightly. An instant later, Jaeih shot forward to wrap her arms around her daughter. The two embraced for what felt like a full minute.

After that minute or so, Jaeih let go and stepped back to compose herself. “Jolan'tru, Daughter.” the elder Romulan woman straightened the dark grey Starfleet Intelligence tunic she wore, the same cut as her daughter's though bereft of rank or insignia.

Stepping over to the small kitchenette, Jaieh poured two cups of strong Romulan coffee from a small pot she had been brewing. Then she looked at the cups and paused for a moment. “I… I don't. Do you still…”

Leaning her head back, she sighed. “I don't remember how you like your coffee. I'm sorry.”

Smiling slightly, Mnhei'sahe walked over to help. “Black. That's perfect, Mother. Thank you.” Taking the offered cup, the young pilot walked over to the sofa and sat down. Jaeih sat in the chair across from her.

“So,” Jaeih gestured with her cup towards the door to the hallway. “That's her. The… what did you call her. 'the most human human that ever humaned’?”

Forgetting the unusual description Dox used for Rita during their last conversation, she chuckled a bit. “Yes. That's Commander Paris. She's been an… exceptional friend to me.”

Taking a sip from her coffee, Jaeih nodded. “Indeed. I found her to be quite interesting myself. I can see why you've… latched on to her emotionally.”

Becoming somewhat embarrassed by the idea, Mnhei'sahe blushed. “MOTHER! I'm not. That's not fair.”

“You misunderstand me. I'm actually quite glad. If I'd met more humans like her, I'd likely have a better opinion of them as a whole. Most haven't impressed me near as much, so there's that.” the Jaeih realized she was straying into territory likely to cause tension and changed course.

“I know there's virtually nothing you can tell me about your ship or your assignments, of course, but… how are you.” Jaeih asked, leaning forward slightly.

Taking a sip, Mnhei'sahe looked down at her feet as she thought. There was so little she could say. She couldn't mention becoming a Baroness of the Artan Pirate family. She couldn't mention meeting the literal embodiment of Death. She certainly couldn't confide in her about the disastrous mission at the Section 31 research station that still haunted her. Everything related to the Hera was classified. So instead, she talked about her day to day life. She talked about the friends she made, avoiding names or rank. She went on about the progress she was making in her meditative training with Sonak.then, after a while of meandering conversation, she paused.

“Mother…” she asked, somewhat sheepishly at first. “I have… there's something I need to ask you about. Something I couldn't ask over subspace frequency.”

The tone was serious, and Jaeih straightened in her chair expecting the worst.

“I need to know. Who is Dralath Tr’Rul?”

There was a tense silence in the air as Jaeih's face went wide. "Dra... Dralath?" She paused for moment to compose herself, but Mnhei'sahe interjected.

"Sonak. Commander Paris told me she mentioned his name. Sonak's been teaching me medatative techniques. To help me calm my mind and to help me clarify the memories that have been unlocked." The young pilot took a sip of her coffee.

"When I meditate, things come back to me sometimes. Details. Faces. Names. I remember him. His face and his voice." Mnhei'sahe kept the key detail of having seen the same man just weeks ago at a Pirate auction, but wanted to avoid anything about her recent inclusion into the Artan Pirate family.

She also neglected to mention that she had learned from her fellow Artan Baroness, Schwein Von Alcott, that he was former Tal'Shiar. Mnhei'sahe's trust of her mother was shakey at best and she wanted to hold on to that information to see if Jaeih would volunteer it herself.

"The memory was a pleasant one. Who... was he, Mother?"

Standing up, Jaeih took her coffee and walked over to the window. She had sworn to Rita Paris that she would never lie to her daughter again. But in the moment, the former Romulan soldier and Engineer felt the pressure in the room and the overwhelming desire to not open up her own heart to that memory.

"Yes, we knew Dralath tr'Rul. It was when you were younger... after I had sent your father away. He was a Romulan smuggler that was a provider of Kali-Fal for us. He had... Designs on me and stopped working with us when I rebuked his advances. This was all when you were quite young."

From behind her, Mnhei'sahe put her coffee cup long enough to reverberate throughout the mostly empty room. Jaeih snapped around at the sound with a start. Standing up, the younger woman looked around with an intensly sad look across her face. Pained as if struck. After a lifetime of lies, it was clear that her Mother couldn't quite not do it.

"Dralath tr'Rul was a Tal'Shiar agent. And he called me by name. He called me 'Mnhei'sahe', Mother. You told me I couldn't bear to hear that name after what my father did. So which is the truth, Mother?" Her sadness was now being replaced by anger.

"This is it. Once I'm gone, we won't be able to talk about any of this over subspace frequencies. Why can't you just tell me the truth?" Dox raised her voice as she spoke, barely keeping it under a yell.

Across the room, Jaeih stood rigidly in place. Her expression was stern and blank, not betraying the whirlwind of emotions she was feeling. "What would you have me say, Mnhei'sahe? Not everything is about you. Not every secret is the key to your soul!"

Her anger no longer contained, the young officer snapped back, no longer speaking in English but in her native Rihan tongue. "No, Mother! You don't get to be the victim here. And you don't get to call me that when you have NO idea what it means!"

Fighting back tears that were welling up, the elder woman just stood and absorbed it. "You told be that we were Rihannsu. You taught me that meant adhering to the principles of honor. Of truth and ruling passion, no matter how difficult. All of those things the Tal'Shiar regimes bled from our people with their lies and manipulation. All those things that turned the Rihannsu people into the Romulans that the Federation always believed we were!"

Standing by the window, Jaeih was barely.containing her own emotions and her eyes betrayed her heart as they shine with the tears she was trying to bury. "Then you already know the truth about him. So you came, what, to test me?"

A single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek as she spoke. "Am I not entitled to anything of my own that you need to be about you? Do you have enough truth or do you need me to weep for you, as well?"

"I need you to stop lying to me as a default setting, Mother. I... I want you to be a part of my life. But I need to be able to trust you." Mnhei'sahe pleaded across the room. But Jaeih remained as stone faced as she could.

"Have you stopped to consider even once that your quest for identity could open wounds for anyone but yourself? I did everything I could do to be there for you. I gave up everything for you." Jaeih paused for a moment to consider her words carefully.

"Trust me or don't. As always, you will do what you will."

Standing across from her, Mnhei'sahe looked down for a moment and took a breath. "This isn't what I wanted, Mother. I wanted to believe we could... be more than this."

Sighing, Jaeih looked across the room at her Daughter with sadness cracking through her facade. "I want that too. But I don't know if you will let that happen."

Picking up the small duffle bag she brought in with her, Mnhei'sahe placed it on the table. "I'm not asking for the universe, Mother. Just a little trust."

The tension in the room, built up over a lifetime, had become too thick. Both women stood on either side, neither moving any closer to each other. After a tense minute of silence, Mnhei'sahe slowly turned towards the door to leave, feeling completely defeated.

As she did, Jaeih lurched slightly forward to reach out but pulled her hand back. "M... Mnhei'sahe." she called out weakly.

At the door, the crimson clad officer paused and turned back around, waiting. From the other side of the room Jaeih stood silently, struggling to find the words that refused to come for nearly a full minute before Mnhei'sahe broke the silence.

"I love you, Mother. And I'm sorry for this." She said.

There was a brief moment of silence as Jaeih replied, her voice cracked. "I... Love you too, Mnhei'sahe." But she said nothing more.

Nodding sadly, the door hissed open. As Dox stepped out into the corridor, wiping a tear from her cheek. After a second the door closed behind her.


A blind man could have read the situation. Those slumped shoulders, the hangdog expression after the yelling which could be heard surprisingly well- apparently they didn't heavily insulate minimum security quarters at Starfleet Intel. What had happened had happened. As much as she might want to rush in and try to make peacemaker, she'd stayed out of it for a reason.

No one could get under your skin like family.

The only time she'd seen fear in Enalia Telven's eyes was when the possibility of encountering her mother came up. Rita's own father still haunted her life an impotent ghost, yet reflected in the lessons he had taught his only son that his daughter had embraced. While Mrs. Dox seemed fine to Rita and eager to see her daughter, family had old patterns and old blood, good and bad. Family had been there from the beginning and had been very formative. Family knew who you were, ans where all the weak spots were.

Approaching slowly, Rita Paris said nothing. Placing her hand on the redheaded Romulan's shoulder, the lost navigator steered her friend away from her past, and into her future.

--------------------

In the room, Jaieh listened to the sound of the turbolift doors close as her daughter left. From the other side of the room, she looked at the small bag for a long moment before slowly walking across to sit down in front of it.

After staring at it for what felt like an eternity, she unzipped the top and reached inside, pulling out two small framed photographs. The first, a picture of Mnhei'sahe Dox as she was today, standing proudly in her Starfleet uniform.

The second, a copy of the same picture that Dox had on a shelf in her quarters on the Hera. The only picture of Jaieh and her daughter from years ago, taken during her childhood on the Forager. A photograph that Mnhei'sahe had kept for years that Jaieh had thought was lost forever.

As Jaieh stared at the two pictures, the facade she had struggled to maintain cracked entirely as the elder Romulan woman wept. Through a flood of tears and a broken voice, to the empty room she whispered.

"I'm sorry too, Mnhei'sahe."

Words spoken too late now.

The turbolift ride had passed in silence, as had the exit through the lobby, which they walked the centerline to avoid the banks of transporters on either side of the vast lobby of Starfleet Command. Rita Paris walked rather briskly through the lobby, her desire to avoid the transporters legendary to those who knew her, despite the assurance that her 'allergy' was now 'cured'. She'd heard such assurances before, and they had proven to be wrong before.

Right now her concern was her charge, young Miss Dox. It was abundantly evident that the meeting with her mother had not gone well. While this raised certain overprotective feelings in the old-school officer, she also knew what boundaries she should and should not cross. So instead of focusing on the moment, Rita Paris changed course. Calling for a type 15 shuttle, the friendly first officer loaded her pilot into the transport when it arrived, programmed in the coordinates, and took her up into low orbit to cover distance quicker using the rotation of the planet to get them where they were going.

From her seat, Dox looked out the window, not particularly concentrating on what they were doing, instead lost in thought of how poorly her reunion with her mother had went.

Thus when the shuttlecreaft alit in Egypt, as the sun was going down despite it having been morning in San Francisdo. Landing the worker bee, Paris stepped out onto the sand and called with her customary good humor, "Time for the tour, Miss Dox. Step lively now, hm?"

Initially, Dox thought that they were heading back up to the starbase in Earth orbit until the worker bee descended back down. "Uh, why are we in Egypt, Commander?"

"The Great Pyramids of Giza, one of the ancient wonders of the world, Miss Dox! Also known as the Pyramid of Khufu or the Pyramid of Cheops, it is the oldest and largest of the three pyramids in the Giza pyramid complex bordering what is now El Giza, Egypt. It is the oldest of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, and the only one to remain largely intact." As they had landed to the southeast of the great pyramid, the Sphinx was close beside them to the north, and the Pyramid of Menkaure was between the Pyramid of Khufu and the Pyramid of Khafre. "Wonders of Earth, Miss Dox. Constructed five thousand years ago, the still stand. And you can see the astronomical coordinates used for the placement, which is pretty impressive for a society who performed it's math on an abacus."




Looking around at the sights she had studied about in her few years of School in Ohio, Dox was still a little too lost in her own head at the moment to take them in. "I remember from school. They line up with Orion's belt, I think."

After a moment of just staring up at them, however, Dox became just a hair less distracted. "They're... bigger then I imagined them."

"It's a little different to see them in person, feel that dry desert heat. So five thousand years ago before mankind learned to work in steel and change the course of human history, they built monuments that can be seen from space. Pretty impressive for some jumped-up monkeys, hmm?" Paris maintained her cheerful tour guide mannerisms as she hustled Dox back into the shuttle before taking to the skies again, showing just how clearly they could be seen from high altitude before plotting the course and winging her way to their next destination.

Still Dox brooded, and still Paris let it be. She'd come to know Melanie Dox well, and she'd talk when it was time, and she'd come out of her shell when she was ready. Rita no longer had to cracking that shell of insecurity to go in after her- Mnhei-sahe Dox knew she was safe with a friend, and she'd come round when it was time.

It took a bit of time to arrive at their next destination, but the mid-morning sun was a glorious site over the Peruvian mountaintops, as they arrived at an ancient city of stone nestled atop the green and lush mountaintops.

"Welcome to Machu Picchu, a 15th-century Inca citadel situated on a mountain ridge 2,430 metres above sea level. Built as an estate for the Inca emperor Pachacuti around 1450, but was abandoned a century later at the time of the Spanish Conquest. Machu Picchu was built in the classical Inca style, with polished dry-stone walls. Its three primary structures are the Inti Watana, the Temple of the Sun, and the Room of the Three Windows. Most of the outlying buildings have been reconstructed in order to give tourists a better idea of how they originally appeared." The long line of stone steppes leading up the mountain to reach it told the tale of how difficult it must have been for the builders of the era to construct it, yet the quaint stone city still stood, a millennium later.



This time, the distracted young part-Romulan, part-Human pilot wandered a bit as Rita talked, taking in the information and looking around a bit more. "It's beautiful."

The statement was sincere, if still a bit twinged with distracted sadness. Dox knelt down to to touch one of the stones gently. "Have you been to these places before?"

"I have not," Rita admitted. "It's an infodump sightseeing tour that I booked. I wanted to see the sights and show them to you... help you connect with some of your ancient history and know of mankind's great works. Which," the ancient astronaut admitted again, "so far are old ruins and old ruins, which I can honestly say I've seen on alien worlds that were more interesting and more impressive than this. Although the view up here is breathtaking. I see why the selfish bastard who made all of his subjects lug all of those rocks up that mountain to build this place chose the locale. Up here you do kind of feel like king of the world."

There was something about Rita never having visited these sights on her own gone planet that pulled Dox a hair further out of her head an into the moment. Perhaps it was simply that it was a new experience for the both of them to share. But whatever it was, she was seeing the site with fresh eyes.

"Yeah, I can imagine as much. It is... certainly something to see." Dox had let the slightest of smiles crack through. It was tiny to be sure. But it was there enough for Rita to likely notice it, Dox thought.

"C'mon. We have another destination to get to," Rita hustled Dox back into the type 15 shuttle, and started reading from her PaDD in one hand and calculating coordinates with the other. Before long they were airborne again, launching into the sky and chasing the sun back around the horizon once more. More and more of the watery surface of the primarily blue world passed by beneath them, until they turned and dropped from low orbit, as a small string of islands became evident below them. Aiming for the largest of the, Rita landed the worker bee in a parking lot next to a long cove with white sand beach flanked by grasslands and trees. The seam was beautiful, the sunshine warm and the breeze kept the skin cool. It felt somehow welcomingly pleasant.

"Welcome to Ho’okipa Beach, Maui. This is one of the prettiest spots on the planet if you like the beach. Which, I'm assuming you are not that fond of, being a redhead, although I think the copper blood makes you a bit more solar resistant. Sonak would know for sure. But... this is one of Rita's wonders of Earth. I adore this place, and it's where I would have taken my honeymoon on Earth. But we weren't here, so I found a nice beach. But this..." Rita leaned back, spread her arms wide and took in the warmth of the sun on her face, the sound of the crashing sea and the tang of salt in the air. "This is my planet. This is one of the things I think of when I think of home."



This time, the distracted depression Dox had been caught in seemed to have released it's hold on the anxious aviatrix. She bent down and ran her hand through the warm, white sand for a second and smiled. "I've... never been to a beach before. Not really. Not like this."

It was the first real smile that had cracked the red-headed Romulan's cheeks in hours. Looking over to Rita, it seemed for all the world like she was created to stand in this place. And in spite of the reservations and contempt she had always held for the planet of her father's birth, she was beginning to understand more and more why Rita loved it so much.

In her heart, she didn't know if she would or could ever feel that way about any one planet, in the moment she could feel it through her friend. Rita's joy was infectious standing on the white sand beach in her anachronistic gold minidress uniform.

"It's... amazing," was all Dox could say.

"I quite agree," Paris responded, breathing in deeply of the salty sea air. "Vulcan doesn't have oceans, not like Earth. Sonak has always been fascinated by the interplay of the seas and the shore. He sees it as analogous of our relationship- I am the emotional surf that crashes against his impassive and rocky shoreline, seemingly immutable and unaffected by the sea, yet changed by it over time. I love the ocean and the beach... on Earth we have deserts and tundra, jungles and forests, plains and mountains. Every type of terrain is represented, just as there are every type of people. But this is where I feel fulfilled, and this is what I think of. Yes, I love the fog of the bay, and I love the city of San Francisco, but these beautiful beaches..."

Tilting her head, Dox smiled with that slightly knowing half smile she had when she was feeling comfortable. It was well over a month since Sonak had mind melded with the young Romulan pilot, but she retained a surprising chunk of the experience that stayed in her mind like a particularly vivid dream. As such, she couldn't help but smile at the description of the two lovers that felt so true.

With a satisfied sigh, Rita grinned broadly, taking it all in. "Risa earns its reputation for beautiful vistas and vacation destinations. But to me, there's no place more beautiful in all the galaxy than terra firma."

"I think I'm starting to see what you see in it here, Rita. Of course, I've never been to Risa either, so I have no point of comparison." Dox chuckled lightly, now no longer stuck in her own head.

"I know you grew up in space, so it's different for you. But this is my home, this is where I come from... and I love it here." Pausing, Rita knelt on the beach, running her fingers through the dry white sand, then picking it up to let the sea breeze blow it away. "It isn't on the list of seven wonders of the world, but I didn't really think you'd get that much appreciation for Earth just seeing broken down old ruins all day, even if we do have a habit of placing them in exciting locales."

"Yeah. It's hard to get homesick when you never really had a home. Not really." Dox walked a little closer to the breaking surf. "So it's more... a feeling of being homesick for the idea of a home. So this here... it connects for me better then the ruins. This is connected to you. It's not abstract, if that makes any sense."

"It does," Rita rose, gently brushing the sand from her hands. "You never knew anyone from Machu Piku, and it's hard to connect to desert dwellers from 5,000 years ago who crafted some impressive architecture. But this is a beach, and you know I love the beach. So when I share one of my favorites with you, and explain its significance, then you get it and can see it more as I do. By seeing it through my eyes you can appreciate it a bit more. I get it, I honestly do."

Taking one more deep breath of the unique scent of the salty air, Rita turned to head back to the shuttlecraft. "C'mon Miss Dox. The human tour of the sights isn't over yet, but we can come back for this one when we're done."

It took a lot to get there, but Dox was finally engaged in Rita's world tour of the planet that represented half of her heritage. Following behind while still looking around at the vista, Dox replied. "Lead the way, Commander." While she used her friends title, the tone was just a little playful as she was relaxing at last.

Once more they boarded the shuttle, though somewhat reluctantly in Rita's case, and they once again chased the sun around the planet, making their way to the dark side, crossing over the rest of the vast Pacific ocean, across Asia even as Rita pointed out the Great Wall of China, visible from 80 kilometers above the planet quite clearly. Pressing on, eventually she circled a brightly lit city, distinctive for the ironworks tower that dominated it's skyline. Finding a parking space to the east and a bit north of the famed Eiffel Tower, Rita stepped out of the shuttle to point to the glass pyramid, that, like so much of the city at night, was brightly and tastefully lit.

"Paris, the city of lights!" Rita smiled, spreading her arms in a showman-like gesture to encompass the legendary city of her home planet, and her namesake.



Walking out of the cramped shuttle and stretching her legs, Dox looked around with wonder. Even her cynicism was no match for the beauty of the glittering cityscape before them. If she had to be on a planet, Dox preferred cities. Cities were alive. Cities were where you could lose yourself and escape your thoughts.

"Any stories from here? I mean, it's Paris, Commander Paris. There's gotta be something." The no longer nervous pilot grinned as she spoke.

"Any stories from here? I mean, it's Paris, Commander Paris. There's gotta be something." The no longer nervous pilot grinned as she spoke.

“The city itself is fine wine, fine cuisine, culture and history,” Rita explained as she began walking briskly to the south. “For me, it’s one of the greatest of the cities on earth because they have refused to surrender their individual identity as the world around them changed. Paris has always been the center for European culture, fashion and food, and of course, the Louvre is here.” Which was apparently where Paris was going in that brisk military stride of hers. “The greatest repository of art history on earth, it houses some of the greatest works of my people from throughout history- well, what has survived, at least.”

“My family left France in 1792, and west out for America, the next continent over, because there was opportunity there. By the 1850's they had come west to California to seek their fortune in gold mining, and they settled in California after realizing there was more money to be made selling supplied to the prospectors than mining themselves. My family stayed far away from the city that had named them and their line. But me, I will always have Paris." Rita paused long enough for Dox to see the merry twinkle in her eye. “This too is someplace that I think of when I think of home, of earth. This big beautiful Paree, La Ville des Lumieres!”

The twinkle was infectious as a broad smile now rested on the chubby cheeks of the red-headed Romulan woman walking briskly behind. "We're supposed to get out middle names from where we're born. Romulans, I mean. But I don't have one, I have no idea where exactly I was born. So, there's no real connection to anything. Not like this!

The statement might have been a melencholy one on any other day. But in that moment, it was simply a statement twinged with no sadness as Dox was still lost in Rita's experience.

“Well, if ‘space’ is your middle name, it certainly would suit you,” Paris batted back. “My middle name’s a joke my mother thought would be funny that I’ve been stuck with ever since. But this, my friend… this is my second favorite city in the world. It’s dark now, but you can see how the air and the cloud cover and the lights all tine the environment, and it makes the city look as though it is trapped in amber, like a piece of another time in the modern day.”

“Never really thought of it that way, but I guess there’s another connection the city and I both share,” Rita chuckled. “It’s night time now, so it’ll still be a few hours until the cafes and restaurants and the Louvre open up, so we can walk the rues of Paree or we can hop in the shuttle for another stop on the tour, then come back for crepes and coffee at dawn. Your call, Miss Dox… it’s your tour, after all.”

The city itself was, as the ancient astronaut had advertised, filled with warm amber light, not the clean harsh lighting of Starfleet Command and its surrounding environs, And despite the new touches, the vehicles and signs, the city held its dignity from centuries past, her impressive architecture and love of life evident in the shops and cafes they passed, which all somehow seemed fitting to the Romulan pilot being guided by her human companion, the native of the planet who had come from so long ago herself.

Dox looked around and thought about it for a second. "Honestly, we can just keep walking. It's a beautiful night and I... I could actually stand to have my feet in the ground for a little bit." She smiled up at Rita as she spoke.

"Besides, it would give me a chance to ask you about that middle name.. I admit I don't remember it from your file." She followed up with a grin. "Though, if I did just go with 'space', for me that would make me... Mnhei'sahe i-Aeleir Dox."

Dropping into step beside the part-human pilot, Paris walked the sidewalks of the vast and grand city whose name she bore, guiding them toward the great edifice of the Louvre, as the courtyard at night was a beautiful sight she wished to share with her half-alien shipmate.

“Helena,” Rita explained. “In Greek mythology, the Trojan War was waged against the city of Troy by the Achaeans after Paris of Troy took Helen from her husband Menelaus, king of Sparta. The war is one of the most important events in Greek mythology and has been narrated through many works of Greek literature, most notably through Homer's Iliad. Thus, as our last name is Paris, my mother thought naming me Helena would be hilarious, like Helen of Troy but Helena Paris. Hilarious, right?” Rita sighed and shook her head. I never use it because it’s a silly joke, and frankly I’ve always thought my first and last names sum it up. Two syllables each, four syllables total, and I’m easy to remember. Or at least, so I am told.”

“It never worked for me. Even Sonak stopped using it a few years ago because it isn’t a part of my identity. It was assigned to me, but I can choose not to have it be a part of me. Does that make sense?” Walking the warmly lit streets, they were now passing the brilliantly and elegantly lit palace that served as the museum for many of the planet’s historical and cultural artifacts. “More than a thousand years old, the Louvre has been a museum for 800 of those years, and is far and away one of the most interesting places on the planet. At night like this I’ve always thought it looked quite beautiful… living up to the City of Lights to be certain.”

"Helena. Yeah, it's not you." Dox smiled as she tilted her head slightly with a quizical look on her face. "But it's not like it's something you're stuck with. If it bothers you, lose it. Maybe ask Sonak what name he would give you. Maybe just look inside yourself and see what you find."

Dox turned around as she walked, stepping backwards. "Another thing about Rihannsu culture... Romulans... we take on family names, names from where we were born... but ultimately... when we finally know who we are, we choose our true name."

Then Dox simply tilted her head and smiled as she turned back around.

“I like that… as a tradition it seems sensible to me,” Rita replied, considering as she walked. “As for me, I know who I am. I’m Rita Paris, the First Officer of a mighty starship. Bride of the kolinahr, whom he calls t’hy’la. I’m the last Starfleet Academy graduate still active from the class of 2255. Explorer, adventurer, executive, diplomat. I am she who never belongs, yet is there making it work all the same. More than they ever gave me credit for, yet less than the legend surrounding me. A terrible daughter, a good friend and a decent human being at the end of the day. Adding another name is unnecessary for me, because I’ve known who I am for a long time.” Glancing over to her compatriot, Rita cocked her head slightly in a very Vulcan expression.

“How about you, Miss Dox?”

Smiling back warmly, Dox replied. "Friend, Brother or Lover. A beautiful word to be sure." She referred to the Vulcan word 't’hy’la' Rita had mentioned. "Fits you to a tee. As does the rest, except for 'terrible daughter', because I could not believe that for a second. Not even a little."

Then, the still very young Romulan woman looked up at the lights of the city. "As for who I am. Really. I'm still figuring that out. But once I do... once I know my true name... you'll be the first to know." She smiled warmly.

“I look forward to it, Mnhei’sahe,” Rita leaned in to bump the hip of the smaller woman. “You’ll figure it out, I have nothing but confidence.”

Walking along in silence for a moment, Rita decided to tug at the thread. “So… do you want to talk about it, or is this one of those times where you’d rather not dwell on the past but move with perspicacious prudence into the future?”

The young pilots head sunk for a moment as she thought. "She did the one thing she said she'd never do to me again. That was enough." Dox knew Rita would understand what she meant as she continued. "But I still want to somehow make it work. Which is probably stupid, but I'd rather be stupid on the side of hope then smart and hopeless."

Then Dox brought her head back up. "That said, no more dwelling. Future, it is."

The explanation made Rita’s teeth grind, as that meant the woman had lied to both of them. The first officer had held out so much hope that the reunion would go well and it would give the uncertain young woman more stability to proceed from, not less. But apparently old habits died hard, and in the heat of the moment, Mnhei’sahe must have put her mother on the spot, at which point she had lied, likely reflexively. The one thing guaranteed to hurt her daughter more than anything, which filled Rita with rage. She would give anything to have a relationship with her own mother, yet here was a parent who had made inroads back toward rebuilding that relationship, yet had blown it because she simply couldn’t be honest with the one person in the universe least likely to judge her negatively for her choices of the past.

While she worked at bottling and swallowing, said anger, her hands balled into fists, her head lowered as she looked out from under her brows and her stride elongated. It did not take an empath to realize that Rita Paris was furious, despite her best efforts to keep it to herself. Subtlety was not her strong suit, and Paris wore her heart on her sleeve, always. It made her a terrible liar, but that much easier to believe her when she was being forthright.

Speeding up to keep pace, Dox knew exactly what Rita's body language meant. She hadn't seen her friend this angry before, but she knew it all the same. "I'm... I'm guessing she said something like that to you, too. That she would never lie to me again. She probably meant it then, too."

"It's... just her default setting. She lives up to every Romulan stereotype that's been hung on me my whole life. Sometimes I don't think even she knows when she's lying." Mnhei'sahe put her hand on Rita's back as she walks, not knowing what to say to help.

"Rita. You tried. I tried. I'll keep trying, probably until the day I die with her. I have to." The words came so fast to her that she didn't even know she was saying them. "It's my fault she's there."

That brought the tall tactician her up short, and the first officer of the Hera eyed her friend with one upraised eyebrow as she put it together. “You got sick of the smuggler lifestyle and turned her in?”

Stopping in her tracks, Dox's jaw clenched tightly. The secret she had never told another living being was staring her in the face. She nodded gently as her eyes began to tear up. "I... Never told anyone that. My... my official record is only clean because she took a deal. She... she would tell Starfleet everything she knew about cloaking devices and in exchange, I wouldn't be charged as a smuggler."

Looking back up at the night sky into the space she saw as home, she choked back her tears to continue. "But, yeah. I... I used to..." Then she paused as she decided just how far she was willing to go.

"I... I used to sit in the airlock. I'd sit for hours with my hand on the control pad." Dox held a half up as if she was holding the pad then and there. "And for a long time, I wanted to push that button. Until one day when I didn't. We were on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone making a delivery. They were off the ship making the deal and I was alone."

Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she continued. "A Romulan Cloaking device is beyond delicate. One system is off in your engine and you're spotted on sensors. And I knew both systems inside and out. I... Replaced a clean exhaust filter on the impulse drive with an old one... a broken one. A federation patrol ship came by and we cloaked, but once I started moving the ship, we showed up on their sensors."

A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. "We got caught because of me, Rita. I betrayed her and she doesn't even know."

At this point, her resolve broke in front of her First Officer with a hoarse whisper. "I proved everything they say about us true."

“Hey hey hey hey hey!” Paris stopped dead in her tracks and whirled on the young woman, an upraised finger now pointed in her face. “We’ll have none of that Romulan shaming. One of my best friends is Romulan and I’ll be damned if I’ll hear that kind of talk!” Realizing that her anger was being misplaced and redirected poorly, Rita Paris took a deep breath to calm down and lowered the accusing finger of reprimand.

“If I had thought for a single solitary second that betraying my father would get me a better life at that age, I would be far from tempted, I would be hard pressed not to have done the same.” Voice softening, she draped her arm around the shoulders of the shorter woman. “If you sat thinking about the airlock that much, it tells me all that I need to know about your life in that place and time. I’m very glad you didn’t pull the plug, Dox. I would have missed you terribly had I never met you and I wouldn’t even know why.”

But Dox just stood there silently, numb past the point of tears. "I... recorded a message for her. One In the event of... something happening. But... I need to tell her. I can't blame her for her lies while I'm still... I have to tell her."

"Hold on a tic," Rita interjected as the walked the streets of Paris at night, although in well-lit areas. "Lemme see if I have this straight. Your mother- who, upon finding out your ears had been butchered and your blood tampered with, takes you immediately to a doctor to OH WAIT no, she spends the next few decades just ignoring the truth of the matter and pretending 'it has always been thus'. Now, to be fair she does come clean when you confront her with it, but apparently had you not then you might have finished out your stunted lifespan because she couldn't bear the pain it would cause you. I'm not going to bother with the usual 'am I right, we'll just move on."

"So she kicks him out over this, and while she may have had her Mallory Archer dalliances from the age of four she basically made you her copilot, assistant engineer, cleanup girl, nurse. No such thing as a free ride, hold her steady, I have to prep the cargo. And you live like this for a decade. From five to fifteen you were press-ganged by birth to indentured servitude upon a forager, of which making do with what it could find is the definition I believe." Rita was on a roll, and she wasn't really giving Dox time to digest any of it because Dox knew it thoroughly.

"So instead of spacing yourself- and, sweety, I am so glad you didn't but no, no. That's an ugly immortality and an awful way out. You only leave the boat in the worst of circumstances and even then only if you are able to get to another boat. I'm lecturing, sorry, anyway, the point is after all of this, you," Paris nudged the shoulder of the portly pilot, "you freaking mutinied! Not even with open rebellion, no, not our Miss Dox, you worked out a way to do it that she wouldn't notice and you timed it so Starfleet would catch you. You mutinied and you defected. Ship was impounded and forfeitured, you went to Earth to be an angry teenager from space on the mudball. The background nose of the natural world must have driven you nuts."

"But you mutinied against your captain and captor, pulled it off with style and panache, bloodlessly, never spoke a word about it, because you hadn't told her and ya' just told me so I imagine I'm the first, thank you, honored," Paris curtsied a bit, plucking at the hem of her miniskirt. "So this pirate thing isn't really something new for you. You already started as a mutineer. Bravo, Baroness Dox."

The full-figured first officer was getting where she was going now. "In short, my friend, you officially owe your mother jack all after she lied to you AND me. I went ahead of you because if she was going to do damage to you I wasn't going to allow a meeting. Sorry, command prerogative. I went in hat in hand, used my nice parents manners and she genuinely seemed... good, you know? And she told me she'd never lie to you again. What does she do? First chance she gets, she lies to you. I say in the truths that are owed column, the fact that you're the reason she's in Starfleet custody teaching them Romulan secrets is something she ought to thank you for over a shank in her sleep."

By this point Rita had talked and walked them to the Arch de Triumph, on their way to the tower, still quite some ways distant.



While they walked, Dox simply listened. Emotionally, she felt empty. Numb. As though there wasn't anything more that she could take in. Instead, she just shrugged. "Nothing you said is wrong, Rita. So why does it still feel like hnave?"

Rolling her eyes, Rita explained. "Because despite the fact that you are justified and owe her nothing you still cling to the principle of the noble Rihannsu, you said, right? In order for your honor to remain unblemished so that you can condemn her for it you have to confess. Which is all just part of you not able to handle being angry at your mother so somehow you have to punish yourself for it, so you dredge up the one secret you've held onto, which is about the only thing you've done her wrong. Although I'd still argue that getting her taken into Starfleet custody probably saved her life."

"I guess I really want my name to mean what it's supposed to. If only to me. And I want to sleep through the night again." Dox hung her head as she talked.

Lifting her head back up, she took a deep breath and sighed. "I don't want to be angry at her anymore. But more than that, I'm just exhausted being angry at myself. I think maybe I've held on to this for so long so I could just keep using it to punish myself with it, ya' know?"

"Mmmmm, seems pretty reasonable, actually," Rita admitted. "So, what course do you set, Miss Dox?"

Staring up at the stars above them, Dox didn't force a smile, but her heart didn't feel quite as heavy as it had earlier. "Honestly. That breakfast you mentioned sounds good. Then, I think I'm ready to go home."

Cacatching the eye of an approaching pedestrian, a middle-aged civilian walking his dig, Rita turned on the million watt smile and stepped into his line of sight, placing her hands on her knees and looking innocently demure in the mod minidress she wore.

"S’il vous plaît?" she opened respectfully. "Cafe, mon ami et moi cherchons le petit déjeuner?"

The local took a second to blink and take it all in, then he took a few seconds to take her in. "Eh... oui, oui! Le Sunrise Cafe est au coin de la rue. Tres excellent!" he emphasized with three finger to his lips, then he kissed them and splayed them out like a firework.

"Merci, merci beuacoup monsieur. Bonjour, chiot!" Rita waggled her fingers at the little dog as she rendezvoused back to her companion. "Little cafe called the Sunrise up the street about two blocks, and he recommends it. Breakfast in Paris, Miz Dox. Crepes to die for, french toast unlike anything you've ever experienced, pastries beyond imaging..." Noticing that none of her sales pitch was getting through, Rita dialed it down. Walking the rest of the way in silence, she had to knock on the door of the cafe, as they weren't quite open yet. Splaying out the fingers of one hand, he indicated that he needed 5 minutes, and she nodded, turned and retrieved two of the folded chairs. Snapping one open she silently set it down in front of Dox, then snapped one open for herself, and sat down on it.

Taking about a second too long to notice the chair, the distracted young pilot turned with a start before sitting down. "Huh... oh, I'm sorry, Rita. I'm just... It's just a lot to try and put away and not think about, ya'know. I'm not trying to ruin what you're doing for me. I really do appreciate it."

Then Dox slapped her hands on her knees and sat up straighter. "Okay, my drama will be here tomorrow. Breakfast in Paris today."

Without a word, Paris pointed over to where the sky was becoming brighter, in front of the cafe. Raising her eyebrows, she pointed out, "It is tomorrow. I still want to know what you're going to do, Dox. Tell her and get it off your chest, have it out? Do it in person or through holo, or just write her a letter and send it, because you can't argue with a letter..."

Clearly, Paris wasn't going to let her put this decision off any more than she already has. "A letter would feel like a cop out, I think. I'll Holo if I have to. At this point, would it even be possible to go back?"

"Oh yes," Rita nodded enthusiastically before she began talking with her hands. "Captain gave me a carte blanche on leave, provided the Commodore doesn't come a-calling, and apparently being very classified grants some amazing clearance. Although more than likely it's the Captain pulling strings. Either way, oh yes. You let me get two cups of coffee, a blueberry scone and a strawberry crepe inside me and I'll fly you right back up there. Over there... around the same latitude..."

"Not exactly a fun, relaxing shore leave for you. Dealing with my family nonsense." Dox lamented. She was emotionally exhausted, but she knew Rita was right. This had hung around her neck like a chain anchoring her to her past. And the young part-Romulan, part-Human woman desperately wanted to move forward at last.

"Melanie?" Rita deliberately used her human first name, despite the connotations, because in the moment it seemed right to her. "I spent time with my husband on a beach. I visited with my own relatives and the places of the past that mean something to me. I helped wipe out a splinter timeline and nearly got the Captain killed. I've been to Ohio- TWICE- and now I've flown around the world to see the sights and show them to the girl who doesn't know what it means to be human. So you let Rita worry about how she spends her shore leave. Because I don't think any of what I have been up to is nearly as important as helping my friend learn a little about where she's from, how she got here and getting her in a good place emotionally, so that she can be all that she can be without the ties that bind pulling her down."

Without thinking about it, Dox let out a light chuckle. "My shore leave has been a lot of crying and moping around ancient ruins."

"That said, with what's ahead today, I hope the French make some strong coffee," Dox smiled over at Paris.

"They do. And don't put yourself down so inaccurately. You went and dealt with your grandparents and got in touch with a little of your Earthling heritage. You inherited a past, in the form of that stuff in storage, which you shared with me in a genuinely wonderful gesture, thanks again. You agreed to come see Rita's wonders of the world, which means less if you don't qualify the world in question, otherwise it's a very earth-centric thing to say- planetist?"

"Point being, you are going through A LOT," Rita emphasized. "Give yourself a break, nobody expects you to be Superwoman but you. It's a lot to process when not compounded by your mother failing the first test of trust you give her. Trust me, I'm an experienced explorer. Sometimes it comes at you like this, and you have to have faith in yourself that you'll find the best way you can to deal with it."

"Be surprised how often that works, actually. Sonak calls it 'statistically unlikely' in the short form- in the long form the crystalline structure of his logic supporting the statement is as irrefutable as it is elegant. I can follow it but I surely couldn't have thought it all up. Anyway," Rita rose as she'd spotted the shopkeeper arriving at the door, while Mnhei'sahe's hearing had detected the pattern of creaking floorboards as well.

"Oh, good. I'm starving." Dox proclaimed, looking forward to the food Rita had described so wonderfully.

Thus the two officers on shore leave, the earth girl and the Romulan who was learning what it was to be human, sat in the Sunrise cafe, and had their breakfast with the sunrise, the dawn of another glorious day in Paris shining through the windows of the eastern-facing shop. The coffee was strong and fresh, the food was delicious and as the locals filed in to join them, so too was the company.

It was a good memory of Earth, that both would treasure. Producing a small data device from inside her top, Rita snapped a selfie of them in the cafe, catching the top of the Eiffel Tower in the background. It was her steadfast theory that pictures captured memories, and in a career that spanned the stars, sometimes the pictures really were one of the greatest wonders of all.

There she stood, again. In the hallway of her mothers quarters at Starfleet Intelligence, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox of the Starship Hera took a deep breath, preparing to once again confront her mother. But this time, with a greater purpose. Behind her, in the hallway was Commander Rita Paris, Dox's first officer, closest friend and the woman that the young Romulan thought of as a sister.

Like before, Rita was there to offer emotional support but knew that this was something that the red-headed Romulan woman needed to confront herself. Looking over her shoulder, Dox flashed a tight-lipped smile and gently nodded as she silently mouthed, thank you. Releasing her breath with a sigh, she stepped forward as the door opened with a characteristic hiss. But what Rita Paris didn't see was the shift in Dox's expression. The tight lipped smile was gone, replaced with resolve.

Inside, the room looked much the same as it had the day before when Mother and Daughter tried to connect and failed, buried under lies and willful silence. But today, Mnhei'sahe Dox was committed that she would leave this room either with a Mother or without. Sitting at a small dining table across the room by the windows was Jaeih Dox. Mnhei'sahe's mother, former Romulan engineer, former smuggler and current prisoner of Starfleet Intelligence.

"I thought that it was some cruel human joke when they told me that you were coming back. Your Captain must have significant pull indeed to arrange two visits in a single week." Jaeih spoke from across the room, her fingers crossed as her hands sat at the table. With a nod, she gestured to the open seat across from her. "I assume your... sister... is waiting in the hall, again?"

Walking across the room, the younger woman pulled out the chair and sat before her stern-faced Mother. "Do not speak disrespectfully of her, Mother. You know that I have named her as my Rinam, and that makes her my family. I won't have it."

The younger woman's tone was sharp and firm, and to her surprise, the elder Dox was taken aback by the display of power. "Very well. I... apologize."

Suddenly, Jaeih realized that this visit was not going to be a mere social one. "You have more you wish to say, I assume? More than simply questions for me?"

Looking her mother square in the eyes, Dox answered with a quick resolve. "I have no more questions for you, Mother. What I need to know, I'll find out on my own. But I did come here to say something. There are... scales that need to be balanced."

At that, Jaieh sat back straight. She had rarely seen this side of her daughter and she was in one moment both proud and slightly frightened. She was not a woman accustomed to relinquishing power in a relationship, but it had become clear that her daughter was not going to give her a say in the matter.

Feeling the knot of anxiety in her stomach, replaced by a swirl of fire, Mnhei'sahe kept her gaze locked as she spoke. "You named me Mnhei'sahe. Ruling Passion. The central tenant of Rihannsu culture and belief. The name given to the honor long abandoned by our people that demands balance. If I am to honor this name, then I must do no less."

Tilting her head, Jaeih suddenly felt her own stomach go tight. She suspected what her daughter was about to say, but found her own voice dry and silent.

"Fifteen years ago, in order to escape my life with you upon the Forager, I sabotaged the impulse drive of the ship. I did so in order for us to be discovered and captured by Starfleet. I decided that a possible life in prison was preferable to the life I had been living." The words hung like dead things in the air and Jaieh was shocked. Shocked not just at the revelation, but by the cold things sitting behind her daughter's eyes. There were no welling tears. No quiver to her voice. Nothing of the frightened, anxious young girl she knew.

For her part, Dox kept to herself what she chose. She would offer her mother no comfort by telling her how long she had planned her own suicide before deciding instead to mutiny. She offered nothing except the facts. Placing her hands on the table, the stout young officer stood up and straightened her tunic. "Now that scale is balanced. Do with it as you will, Mother."

She turned to walk towards the door, throwing back in her mothers face the words so often used against her as a child to manipulate her. In her seat, Jaeih was shuddering in place. She was shocked, not by the statement that she had long suspected to be true, but by the coldness with which it had been delivered. It was a cold that terrified the elder Romulan to her core.

"Mnhei'sahe!!" She called out in a panic, getting up so quickly to follow after that she slammed the table with her knees and knocked her own chair to the ground. "Mnhei'sahe... I know. I've always known, at least in here."

Pressing her balled hand tight into her midsection, below the right breast where the Romulan heart is, her eyes were filled with welling tears as the elder Romulan felt an unfamiliar emotional panic overtake her. "Please... please don't go. Please, I'm sorry."

Turning back to face her, Dox's face remained closed and distant. "Sorry for what, Mother?"

The young officer paused, raising an eyebrow waiting for an answer while Jaieh struggled for the words. "Would you prefer that I make it easier for you? Because I'm done. I'm done trying to reach you as a daughter. And I'm done blaming myself for the life you forced on me. Is that what you're sorry for?"

Then she turned back to face her mother, looking slightly up at the taller woman, who shrank at the sight. "Are you sorry that you knew, and perhaps kept that to yourself because it gave you emotional leverage? Because you knew I would never do what I'm doing right now?"

Her eyes tightened to a squint as she shouted. "IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE SORRY FOR!?"

In that moment, Jaeih stood in utter grief. She watched her loving, sensitive, warm daughter become what she had always dreaded seeing happen. She watched as her daughter become herself and it was perhaps the most painful thing she had ever experienced. "Please, Mnhei'sahe. This... this isn't you."

"Who am I then, Mother?" Dox answerd with a hiss.

The two stood in silence for what felt like a thousand years. The daughter had become the Mother and it was a bitter thing. Then, the tension cracked as Mnhei'sahe's tight posture loosened ever so slightly. "If this is what I have to be to survive what you made, then so be it. But... I'd rather be your daughter again."

Then she shook her head with her coldness replaced with a reserved sadness. "But I can't be that the way I was before. And I can't let myself be that victim another day. I won't. You don't have to say or do anything today. I have no expectations."

Then the younger woman straightened back up as she readjusted her uniform. "I'm willing to bury the past with Melanie, Mother." She spoke, evoking the human name her Father forced on her that Jaieh reinforced with decades of lies.

"One day, I will know who I am inside. Truly. And on that day, I would hope that I will be able to share that true name with you." Finally, the emotional barricade Dox had constructed in her mind had begun to crack just a hair. "But today... that couldn't happen. I can't trust you, Mother. There's a galaxy of lies between us I can't fly across by myself. But I'm here on this side, and now you know my last secret from you. When you're ready to meet me in the middle, you know how to contact me."

The elder woman hessitantly tried to step forward as she drew a breath to speak, impossibly defeated, but she froze in her tracks as Mnhei'sahe raised a hand ever so slightly. "No, Mother. It's not happening today. Not like this. I need you to think about who you want to be. Really think, because if you can't be true with me, then I'm done. Forever. I will warp away and you will cease to have a daughter and I will not look back."

"I DO love you, Mother. Jolan'tru." With that, the traditional Romulan farewell, Dox turned and walked purposefully toward the door. There was no more to be said as the doors wooshed open and Dox entered to cooridor.

For a few seconds, Jaeih simply watched in shock. Then, before Mnhei'sahe could reach the turbolift, she ran into the Hall after her. "Mnhei'sahe, please! Don't do this!"

Arms crossed beneath that ridiculous bustline and back against the wall, as Jaeih left her room to chase her daughter, she was faced with the sudden and rather solid-appearing form of Commander Rita Paris. Who had apparently been parked right outside, and heard at least some of the exchange. That friendly face was set in a scowl of disgust that looked all too familiar on the face of a human, at least to her. Glowering at her with considerable and obvious rage, the humanest human who ever humaned raised an accusing finger at the captive intelligence asset, as she hissed one word long, low and slow.

"KAEFH."

At the sound of a human using the Rihan word for 'shame' at her, Jaieh went from pain right back to her more customary anger. She went rigid and decided if Paris was going to try and use her own tounge against her, she would return the attention in kind.

Looking slightly up at the taller human officer, Jaeih began shouting back in Rihan at Paris. "How DARE you speak of shame to me, Human! You..."

But before another word could be uttered and before Rita could respond, Mnhei'sahe Dox spun sharply around from the doors of the turbolift, hissing back in perfect Terran. "MOTHER! I told you to NEVER disrespect my Sister. Utter so much as another word, and I guarantee you it will be the last you ever speak in my presence!"

Across the corridor, Jaieh went white as the green blood flush from her face. She stood, a whirlwind of emotions unmasked. Confusion, anger and fear played off of her face as she straightened herself up, waiting for her daughter to leave.

"You are an intelligence asset maintained in a minimum security facility because you are judged to be a low flight risk. In short, you know your place. If you forget your place, new quarters can be assigned for you to accommodate your revised flight risk. Your call." Paris continued to glower at the woman, now in an official capacity.

While her authority might be dubious, it was Starfleet Intelligence, and she was a Starfleet officer. Plus whatever strings had been pulled Rita felt quite confident the captain could unpull them just as easily.

As the Romulan mother closed the door of her well-appointed cell, Jaieh stood, a mix of anger and sadness across her face playing in equal measure. Even so, the tension between the elder Romulan woman and the pair of Starfleet officers was thick like a dense fog as the turbolift arrived, then the doors closed.

Still standing in her room alone, Jaieh Dox fumed as tears welled up in her eyes. In one brief moment, she had somehow lost the Daughter she so desperately wanted to know again. Then her mind turned to the image of Rita Paris as she muttered to herself in Rihan. "Not lost... taken."

----------------------

In the turbolift, the two women stood in silence for a moment as Dox closed her eyes and took a long breath. Unlike her prior visit, no tears came to the young woman this time. Instead, she simply breathed, trying to remember the meditation techniques Sonak had taught her to re-center herself and calm the rage and pain swirling in her stomach.

No words were spoken. The trip passed in silence, for part of the intuitive human's gift was to know when no words were needed.

Coordinating the delivery of an entire starship wasn't easy, but between Magnus and von Alcott, they had done it. Now they just needed a certain Romulan pilot to show up and they could sign the girl over. In the meantime though, standing at one of the civilian ports in Earth Spacedock, the burly Captain Magnus was getting a few strange looks as people passed the odd pair by. They certainly didn't dress like most people, being in their piratical finery, but they didn't mind. While they waited they chatted about the state of the galaxy's trade markets to seem less out of place, but they were definitely suspicious.

Across the room, the turbolift doors opened to reveal Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox. Though today, she was Baroness fifth class of the Artan Family. And as per a loose recommendarion from her fellow Baroness and shipmate, Schwein, she was dressed for the part.

The anxious aviatrix was still adjusting the tight, high collared deep green military jacket, with tassled gold shoulder sideboards bouncing with each step. While the uniform was perfectly tailored to her measurements by the ships replicators, she felt extremely self conscious of how ostentatious the gold trim and brass buttons attracted every eye on deck.

But if she could wear the velour gold minidress of Commander Paris' era, then she could certainly wear this symbol of her new station.

As she walked across, she saw Schwein and Captain Magnus. Standing off to the side near Schwein was the tall, pale woman dressed all in black that Dox knew as the literal manifestation of Death itself. Schwein's constant companion and Dox's newest, and perhaps most unusal friend.

Since she knew that likely on your Schwein and herself could see Death there, she offered a slight smile to acknowledge her presence without drawing undue attention to her.

Stepping up, she assumed a military posture. "Baroness Von Alcott. Captain Magnus. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

The battle scarred and gruff man that looked like he could wrestle a bear and win smiled like he wouldn't harm a kitten and extended a hand in greeting. "Please, the pleasure is mine. Any woman that can impress the Princess and become our missing Baroness has to be something special. I'd do anything to come and meet you in person. Besides, I still owed this one from the last bet we made."

Answering the handshake, Dox smiled as broadly as her anxiety would allow her to be.

"That's a private matter, you old codger..." Schwein blushed hard, glancing away.

Wrapping a beefy arm around the augmented human, Magnus pulled her in for a hug. "Oh come on. You're like my own daughter to me. I thought you'd stay a vir..."

He didn't get to finish the rest of that sentence as Schwein elbowed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and dropping him to his knees. "Yeah... Just... Like my... Daughter..."

The nervous knot in Dox's stomach loosened a bit more as it was clear that this meeting was going to be light years removed from a Starfleet meeting and a broader and more authentic smile cracked her plump cheeks.

"There you go... That's more like an Artan smile." Magnus got back to his feet, still rubbing his gut. "What say we head to your new ship, eh? That way we can sign everything over and you can get acquainted with the gal. It was hard finding a ship that fit the specifications, but I had a team of engineers modify the wings so they can be folded in so they shouldn't be any trouble for you."

As he was talking, Death wandered over to one of the vendors that looked like they had fallen asleep in their booth and without so much as batting an eyelash, pulled off one of her black gloves, tenderly stroked his sleeping cheek, and walked back to the group as she replaced her glove. In the meantime, the old man slumped over a bit more, now clearly dead.

Schwein was a bit startled because not only did she see what Death had done, she had felt it as well. "I um... My injuries are acting up again... So... I'm going to head to the nearest clinic. You two can take care of things ok without me, right?"

"Yeah... We'll be fine." Magnus was visibly worried now. He'd never seen the woman show even an ounce of weakness before so this was like seeing the sky falling for him.

As Schwein walked away, she bumped Death and hissed at her. Death on the other hand acted like it was no big deal. "What? His heart was going to fail in a few hours. I just made sure he passed in peace while he was asleep."

"No... I felt that..." Schwein hissed back, trying not to attract attention to herself as she walked away with the invisible woman at her side. Realizing the implications of what was just said, her eyes went wide.

Magnus, not able to hear any of that conversation, quickly turned his attention to Dox. "Shall we then?"

With her extremely acute Romulan hearing, however, Dox heard every word as she watched the two walk off. The extreme concern on her face was evident and she knew it. "Uh... yes. Sorry, yes."

Collecting herself and turning her attention to the Artan Captain, Dox continued. "Yes, absolutely Captain. Please, lead the way."

Motioning down the line of ports, Magnus began walking as he talked. "We had a few different models laying around, but with your proclivities that I've been told of, I thought a ship that was fast, agile, and yet still well armed would be best. Unfortunately, that limited it to a J type or the older runners with modifications. You being in the position you're in, I figured you'd also want some space and at least one or two luxuries as well, just in case. Which is why that kind of limited it to the J type. The old runners just aren't built for pleasantries."

Tapping the window, Magnus pointed out a small ship just outside not much bigger than a runabout that looked a bit like a flattened cigar for a central cockpit area with swept back wings bristling with guns, sensors, and a massive bank of engines on the back. It looked like it had tried to fly through the corona of a sun and skipped off a moon, but everything was in its place at least. "She's not much to look at, but we did the best we could. The wings will retract and collapse about two meters each if you have to park in a tight pace and the upper fins will fold flat. There's room for a crew of four as well."

Leaning forward, Dox put her hand against the glass looking at ship outside. "Even a basic j-type is a solid machine. Reliable and sturdy enough to be in continual production forever. There's a lot of mods here even beyond the weapons."

Her attention now fully focused, the life long pilot was mentally taking the small ship apart in her mind's eye. "Looks like... Inset nacelles added to boost warp capabilities beyond standard factory specs. At least 4 extra directional thrusters incorporated into the hull, aft and bow. Captain, I think she's beautiful."

Magnus chuckled softly and patted Dox on the back before unlocking the gangway and guiding her the rest of the way. "Yeah, you're a good one. We loaded her up with phasers instead of our usual plasma weapons. Figured you'd prefer that. She's also running the best reactor we could get. A Caitian model with a thorium overload control. Supposed to be impossible to breach. Still has the plasma torpedo launcher though. Prior owner rewired half the ship to get a Romulan one installed and it would have been too much hassle to convert it back." Unsealing the final hatch, he stepped aside so she could inspect the interior.

"I know my way around Romulan mods, so that's fantastic." Dox replied as she stepped past Captain Magnus.

Inside was a different story from the outside. Everything was pristine pale white and taupe panelling with obviously brand new consoles and control surfaces lined with what looked like amaranth wood here and there. The cockpit seated two but had two seats off to the side with monitoring stations. In the back there were crew bunks and a captain's cabin and even a small cargo area with several cargo crates already in it. Even the maintenance areas looked like they'd been recently replaced or spit polished.

Walking along the bulkheads, Dox ran her fingers across the panels with all the tenderness of a lover, taking in all the details. She still couldn't believe this was real and half expected to wake up at any moment. "This is... amazing, Captain. I don't have the words to say thank you but I will do everything I can to prove true this trust you're placing in me."

"Trust goes many ways, Baroness," the Captain of the Fleet said softly. "The Princess trusts you with her life and we trust you with the honor of the family. I assume you trust us as well just like your mother and all those refugees did all those years ago. I just ask that you continue to stand by the Princess's side and support her as long as you're able."

Looking up at the mountain of a man that dwarfed her considerably, Dox's expression was one of resolve. "You have my word, Captain, and you all have my support."

He smiled back at her like a father would to his daughter. "Then you have ours as well. This I swear."

Then her attention turned to the crates in the cargo area. "May I ask what her cargo is?"

"Well... When word got around that a new Baroness had been named and who she was... Some people felt like giving gifts." The giant of a man seemed a bit bashful all of a sudden, one hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was nervous. "Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh is Romulan herself and the leader of what she likes to call the Romulan Refugee Corps. Every last one of them... Ah... Almost everything in there is from them. You should look through it when you have time."

"I will Captain, thank you." As she answered, the wording seemed to indicate that this wasn't that time. There was also an almost cryptic quality to some of his words and tone that raised questions in her mind as well. But they we're questions that could wait, as she still had official business to attend to.

"So, what's the next step then, Captain?"

He pulled a datapad out of his breast pocket and pulled up the registration and owner transfer documentation before handing it to her. "The paperwork. If everything meets with your approval, the Federation needs documentation of registration to you and ownership transfer. If you could read them over and add your thumbprint in the needed places, we can file them and I can leave you to enjoy the ah... Sorry, my Romulan isn't the best... How do you pronounce that again?"

Taking the datapad, Dox began reading them quickly as she spoke. "She's the Khallianen. It means 'seeker'. It seemed... appropriate."

As she scanned through the pages, she nodded a few times, and pressed her thumb on the sensor pad where needed. "Done, Captain."

He then took the device back, pressed his own thumb to the sensor, and immediately filed the whole thing with the ESD port authority. "And all done. Any questions for me before I head out?"

"Baroness Von Alcott has been extremely helpful at getting me up to speed regarding my responsibilities." Then the red-headed Romulan paused for a brief moment to think. "This tribunal. How bad are we thinking this could get for Captain Telvan?"

That's when Magnus turned grim and all business. "As Captain of the Fleet I have to remain as objective as possible... But with four definitely supporting the Queen, six, supporting the Princess, both first class baronesses abstaining, and the other two undecided... It's looking like it's going to end in a very bad duel. It's probably going to be ship to ship combat as well, if the Queen holds true to her... Skill set."

For her part, Dox felt no need in the moment to try and show objectivity. "It seems to me that the Queens objective here stands in direct opposition to the most significant principal we're supposed to represent and fight for. Bodily autonomy is an individuals first freedom. If she wants to strip that from the Captain, force her into essentially breeding to solidify her own power, that is a massive affront to the concept of freedom."

"And that's the argument I think most are going with. Others want to go with family duty and all that, especially with no heir to the family. Even if Enalia tries to name a successor, there will be dissent for not following tradition and as long as her mother holds any power, she can't do that. She has to be recognized as Queen first." Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Magnus leaned against one of the bulkheads. "I was hoping to retire in a few years too, but if she wins, odds are good she'll name my daughter as her successor. No early retirement for me then..."

In some respects, Dox realized that this must be a lose/lose scenario for Captain Magnus. She also realized from his tone that the peaceful route was very likely the least likely course this would all take.

Placing a hand on the bulkhead, Dox replied. "I be sure that we're both as ready as we can be for the best and the worst, then." She tried to keep her tone positive, but there was a sadness in it as she realized that this was a lose/lose scenario for him is some respects. "I wish that there were better options, though. I'm sorry."

"This is a hard life that we live. Most choose to avoid it but those that do..." Magnus couldn't help but smile warmly, though with a hint of sadness. "There's the best freedom in that choice. Freedom to choose your own fate. Your own life and path. I've chosen to be one of the ones that help them make that happen. So has my daughter. By accepting your role, you have as well."

Sighing heavily, he went on. "Unfortunately, some don't see that that freedom applies to the royal family in that the Queen should get her way and force the Princess to give us an heir. They do have the freedom to support her though. Mostly because they feel they owe the old rule. Like Baroness Sienae Nei'rrh. She owes almost everything to the old Queen so she'll likely side with her. Your presence has given her pause though."

Standing up straight and stretching, the giant of a man yawned. "Ah, but I've said too much. Thank you for listening to the ramblings of an old man. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go track down Schwein and make sure she's ok. You need anything, you let me know, ok?"

"I will, Captain. And thank you." Dox let the cryptic change of subject slide as her attention was also on Schwein's condition. The young Romulan pilot had every intention of following up on that as well, but would give Captain Magnus his time with her first.

And in the meantime, she had a brand new ship to discover. "You know how to find me if you need me."

Tags

A very large part of why Rita Paris had wanted to come home to Earth was to see how familiar sights had changed. One of those sights she had known with pride and awe was Starfleet Command. In her day it had been a large edifice, sprawling across over 2 square kilometers, nineteen stories tall at it's peak.

The modern equivalent was... impressive.

The great crested edifice towered 3 kilometers into the sky, in a beautiful curve that emulated the delta of her day, the symbol of Starfleet which she still wore upon her breast. The sheer enormity of it drove home just how much things had changed, but she wanted to see for herself.

Resetting the worker bee to go find the next call for work, the gold-clad commander began to stride purposefully into the no-fly zone around the monument to the organization to which she had dedicated her life.


Martin and Emmett were lounging as usual at the DTI security station when the scanners picked up something odd walking right through the front door. "That's an unusual match. Facial recognition says that's one Rita Paris, deceased in a transporter accident 135.533 years ago. Uniform matches that era as well. Why use the front door, though?"

"Idiot... If you died by transporter, you'd avoid them too, wouldn't you?"

"So... That's a ghost?"

Tapping at their stations for closer readings, they both looked up at each other at the same time. "Quantum resonance. She was a warp ghost."

"We have a live one."


Stepping inside, the doors whooshed open, larger then the doors in the starship that was her home. But as Rita Paris entered the lobby, dozens of transporters lined the walls on either side, in constant use one way or the other, beaming people in and out in a great hall that was like grand central station at the center of the universe. There were races Rita recognized here and there, and plenty of humanoids. But there was an ambling collection of rocks, a multitude of reptilians, a trio of neko Caitans, what looked like a four meter tall giant in a mustard uniform, and she got cut off by a small centaur wearing medical blue.

Starfleet Command had changed.

Looking around, the lost navigator sought an information booth, and was rewarded to see one in the distance, not far from the entrance. Moving to the doors at the center of the wide lobby, Rita took a deep breath and braced herself. That was a lot of transporters in action. But if she walked down the centerline between them she should be fine, and she could figure out where to go.


Studying the readings she was putting of wasn't nearly as interesting as the readings of the transporters nearby. As Martin and Emmett watched, the closest of the transport units seemed to stretch out and take longer, their quantum readings elongating and almost seemingly reaching out toward the woman they were watching. Signals flickered and wavered, and suddenly none of the transporters were running on time- the fastest beam-in was now 5 full seconds, unheard of in this day and age. "This woman... Is she really what she appears to be?"

"I don't know, but we'd better call the Chief..."

"I'll start a plan to detain her."


Anxiety can be quite the cross to bear.

It is somewhat naturally intensified when near the source of said anxiety.

Moreso when said anxiety is based in fact and repeated experience.

In the case of one Rita Paris, her fear of transporters was well-earned, as they tended to behave erratically in her mere presence, a phenomenon which had only grown more intense since her accidental transporter transmission to this reality in a state of pure energy. These days she tried to stay away from them, and just deal with her phobia. Which was usually manageable, but the constant hum of them and the great number of them were still making her intensely uneasy.

Behind her, a Bolian beaming up to Starbase One watched himself disintegrate from matter to energy over the course of a full thirteen seconds. He would be forever skittish about beaming away from Starfleet Command, although he was convinced that what he experienced was physically impossible.

A signal from Starfleet Marine bounced, and the traveler reappeared right where they'd started. The annulation beam of one outgoing transport was randomly shifted, and the party clown headed for Fresno found himself beamed aboard the bridge of the USS Yeager.

All of the hair on Rita Paris' body was standing up, and it wasn't helping her nerves any at all. They're not gonna get you, just stay away from them and you'll be fine, it's fine, you're fine...

Reaching the information booth, the frazzled first officer smiled a somewhat manic smile as she came face to face with a stationary gender neutral humanoid hologram with the information sign rotating above their head. "Hello. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen Starfleet Command. Is there someone who could please give me a tour?"



Martin just facepalmed as Emmett's head slammed into his desk. "Is she really just here for a tour?"

Emmett rolled his head around on his desk a bit before replying. "There's got to be more to her than just being a time tossed tourist..."

"With that much quantum instability, she could shut down all transport operations in Command."

"Or suck it into a temporal vortex."

"I'm scanning... she has tech that's out of place though. There's a commbadge on her that's registered to... classified? Modern tablet in her hand, too, riding the local signal."

"With that much displaced quantum energy built up, she could hide a 30th century displacement bomb in that thing and we'd never know it."

"What would she access with the tour? What possible strategic chronal target of opportunity is in Starfleet command in this moment?"

"Checking the schedule... Nothing really stands out. Admiral Paris is in his office today rather than his Jupiter Station office for a meeting with Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris. Do you think that might be it?"

"It's as good a theory as any. I say we let her have a partial tour... Then redirect the tour guide into one of our interrogation rooms once Agent Engstrom is ready to interrogate her."


Both in Rita's day and the modern day, as part of Starfleet History 202 you were expected to take a rotation as a tour guide, which was mostly just sitting around playing Trivia Pursuit, Starfleet Edition, taking the quizzes and an occasional VIP tour. No one just walked up and asked for a tour. Even families visiting would prebook, as the Federation is a civilized society of information, and that's how that works. Thus when he was forced to walk away from the game board where he was winning no less, to jump the lift to give a tour, the young cadet was less than thrilled. On the ground floor, in that huge sea of sentients transporting everywhere and hauling luggage and figuring out where they were going all across the floor, he spotted the officer at the info stop he'd been directed to report.

A dozen things struck him at once, and that made the young man's head spin quite a bit, as young men often did at the sight of this particular Starfleet siren.

A human woman, she was striking, with an almost cartoonishly proportioned figure, perfectly accented by the anachronistic dress she wore. Tall- while he was average sized, she was quite tall, and he noticed she was wearing heels on boots that were not just comfortable ankle boots, but some knee-high boots that seemed somehow sturdy to his eye. The short haircut was unexpected- on most human females the length of the hair was often a point of pride, yet hers was cut in a short but stylish cut, even as, in animated conversation with the infodesk, she ran her fingers through it, pushing it back into a bit more stylish pompadour that immediately started sliding back down her head.

The woman smiled, and the young man was struck. That gold uniform marked her as a re-enactor or someone with a very unique fashion sense. He recognized the era- Starfleet women's issue command gold 2260-2272. She lacked the tricorder or the phaser, at least as far as he could see, and when she bent to lean in slightly the flash of cleavage drew his eye, then he backtracked- those were pips on the loose black V-neck collar she wore. And the rank on the sleeves matched up to the uniform, two solid wound braids.

This had to be a pop quiz, and he was going to nail this one. Hands behind his back, he strode up slowly.

"Wow, that fast? Who was the architect, or was it designed by committee?"

=^= The architects, engineers and input of 49 worlds were involved in the design phase alone. The interior decor, flow, functionality and harmony of each space has been settled upon after input from every race in the Federation, and agreed upon to a mutual majority. =^=

"Hello, I'm Cadet Vril Tilly. Welcome to Starfleet Command. Are you the person who asked for the tour?" He smiled, a nervous self-conscious smile worn by the neurotic since the dawn of time. When she turned to regard him, those bright blue eyes scanned over him appraisingly, not unlike one of his instructors, in fact, then she met his gaze with her own, and showed him what a smile looked like.

As an old Earth euphemism goes, 'a smile that lights up a room' is one that had survived, in no small part because it remained true in some cases. Of which this was one- the alluring antiquity beamed a warm smile his way and extended her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Cadet Tilly. I''m Commander Rita Paris, and it's been a very long time since I've been here. Might you be willing to show me the highlights of the tourist experience?"

The frankness and warmth the woman put off was somehow surprising to the cadet, who stared for a few seconds before blinking rapidly. Then he recovered himself and offered an answer. "Y-yes sir. Commander. The highlights... of course."

The cadet half-turned and gestured, and the curvaceous commander fell in step with him easily as they set off through the great lobby. "We can take a transporter to level," he began before he realized she had him by the arm and was steering him away from the bank of transporters to which he had been headed.

"No, we can get there on a turbolift," the amazonian anachronism argued as she guided him down the centerline. A particularly lengthy beam-in sequence caught his eye, as that never happened, but the insistent executive was urging him along.

"Come along, Cadet, the exercise will do us both some good..."


Back in the DTI security office, Martin tapped into the ship sized quantum scanners under the building and recalibrated them once more. "If she stays in the lobby much longer, we're going to start losing resolution on those transporters."

Emmett pointed at one of the monitors. "She has a tour guide now and is heading towards the central turbolift shafts. Looking up the Cadet's name now. Cadet... Vril Tilly. First year at the Academy."

"Well... With these readings, we can't transport her into custody... Everything around her would get sucked into null space."

"We'll have to do it the old fashioned way then. On foot."

"Do we even know what kind of route the tour takes without transporters though?"

Looking between each other, they just stared blankly. They literally had no idea what to do at this point other than to wait for their senior agent to arrive.



Holding the PaDD the senior officer had been kind enough to loan him, Cadet Tilly was learning to navigate without a transporter. "We'll start the tour with the Admiral's chambers and the Federation assembly of worlds, on floor 33."

As the lift doors slid open, they stepped inside the spacious turbolifts which had polished metal reflective doors on the inside. A few other travelers joined them, and as the doors slid shut, two of them eyed one another's reflections curiously Rita Paris noticed a 50's-ish human male officer who looked an awful lot like her father did when he was young. Same almost not quite blonde hair that was starting to go to grey now, same blue eyes... a lieutenant commander. It was a silly thought, so she let it go. Just seeing ghosts in your old age, Rita.

As the lift halted and the tour guide escorted her off the lift, the lieutenant commander left behind shook his head. The woman seemed a little old to be playing dress-up at Starfleet Command. And the uniform hadn't even been accurate with those modern pips on the collar- hell, they didn't even go there anymore with the new uniforms. Sighing and shaking his head, the young officer continued his trip upward to meet with his father the admiral to discuss his daughter's appointment to the Academy, never knowing just how odd the encounter in the elevator with an alternate reality analogy of one of his ancestors had been.



Meanwhile, the DTI boys had finally started coming up with a plan when, "Wait- did she just take a turbolift ride with Tom Paris? Was there any contact, any contamination... oh phloog, the paperwork on this is going to go on forever..." Whigh was when Alden Engstrom the 13th finally walked in.

"WHAT! Are you. Two. Dis-apoint-ments. Doing..." Pausing dramatically, he held one hand up for silence as he looked over the sensors and monitors. "Hmmm... This is a problem... Have the two of them. Redirec-ted. To the rooftop lounge. That is under. Construction... When they next take the... Turbo-lift."

The man's long drawn out speech patterns really made following his orders a complex affair, but Martin and Emmett did their best to follow along and moved to comply as soon as they hoped he was done. He wasn't.

"There I will... Meet with this... Rita... Paris... ... Perhaps... We shall see why she is... Here..." With that, he turned and quickly left the office and headed to the nearest transporter to wait for Rita's arrival at the roof.


The Admiral's chambers had been impressive, and the Assembly of Worlds she had expected to be an austere chamber, not an interactive holographic representation of every system in the Federation in an accurate model complete with zoom in capability and detailed and easily accessible information on each world. She could have spent days there, but there was more, and she still wanted to see it. "Is there a museum? I'd really like to see that!" she asked of her tour guide.

Skimming through the complex directory, Cadet Tilly learned something new. Thus far the re-enactopr or whomever she was seemed to be happy and impressed to see whatever he showed her, and her enthusiasm was becoming contagious to him. "There is a Starfleet Museum, it's on two of the lower floors, 18 and 19. Shall we go there next?"

"I would love to. Maybe I'll see a few familiar faces," she quipped as they marched toward the turbolift.

"Ma'am, not to be disrespectful, but may I ask a few questions?" the cadet finally ventured, his curiosity finally having gained the courage to overwhelm his anxiety.

"Ask away, Cadet," the cheerful commander countered as the approached the turbolift.

"What's with... are you... is this a quiz?" the confused cadet managed to stammer out.

"I'm not a quiz, Cadet. My name is Rita Paris. I was born in 2233, a month before Jim Kirk. I graduated Starfleet Academy in 2255, went missing in action in 2260 in a transporter accident. I was recently reassembled into matter in the modern day, and reinstated in Starfleet." Stepping into the turbolift, she turned to regard the curious cadet. "So, since I missed a lot of time in between, I thought I would come and see what became of Starfleet Command in the far-flung future."

It was the truth, although an edited version of events. Rita's existence was likely classified, as was the starship upon which she served. But the cover story that had been hammered into place was one she could stick to, since none of it was a lie.

To Cadet Tilly, it made his brain lock up.

Which was when Paris called for Deck 18 and her brows furrowed. As she again called for floor 18, then she frowned and pursed her lips, shaking the stunned student out of his reverie.

"Ah, what's wrong, ma'am? Did I say something wrong, because I do that a lot and I didn't mean to be insensitive it's just that I'm, I'm bad at communicating..."

"No, it's not you," she cut him off. "We're not going down, we're going up. And we're going a long ways up. What's on the upper decks of the building?" she asked as he turned to the PaDD in his hands and realized she was right... even though he couldn't identify whether they were going up or down, the ride did seem to be taking an awful long time. He was still looking for the directory when the lift doors opened.

Fresh air and sunshine greeted them as the lift opened into the foyer which connected to a rooftop lounge that seemed to be under construction. Even with the land-based inertial dampeners out here, the wind from the height of the building and the elevation was quite strong. Stepping out to the open door of the small transparent aluminum foyer, Paris held a hand back to her young tour guide.

"Stay behind me, Cadet." As friendly, jovial and easygoing as she'd been, it surprised Vril when the woman spoke in a voice of command, because he obeyed her without thinking. "I don't think we were brought here as an accident..."

"Indeed... You were not..." Came the voice of one Alden Engstrom the 13th from not far away. Dressed in modern business attire, the man had a rather haughty appearance to him but was otherwise non-threatening as he motioned to one of the tables. "Please sit. Commander Rita Paris. My name is. Alden... Engstrom... I'm with the De-part-ment of... Temporal... In-vest-iga-tions... And I would Like... To have a word. With you."

"Cadet," Paris turned on the anxious young man who had been swept up into this with her. "You are my tour guide, and you have not been dismissed from your assignment. Until I dismiss you, you must do what?"

The surprised student balked a bit, but then he knew the answer. "Until I have been lawfully dismissed by another officer I remain on duty."

"Correct, Cadet," the instructive executive encouraged. "Now, if you stay nearby you will potentially subject to classified information which, as Starfleet personnel, you are forbidden to divulge to anyone lacking clearance. And this is pretty high clearance stuff. But I'll be honest, I could use a witness too. My captain taught me to never meet with the DTI alone. What do you say, Cadet?"

There are moments in life where one can choose a more daring course, and perhaps define some part of onesself. It requires intelligence to recognize the opportunity, wisdom to determine when the time is right, and courage to stay the course. Cadet Vril Tilly lacked all of those qualities.

"I'm, um, I'm gonna go back downstairs, if that's okay. I've got a lot of homework and I'm missing quantum field analysis right now, so, uh, you have a nice conversation, and I'll, um... yeah, bye." The cadet guiltily waved at her as he turned back to the turbolift.

"It's okay Cadet- I understand," the ancient astronaut patted him on the shoulder, and clasped it briefly. "You are dismissed. Good luck with finals this year. Per aspera ad astra, aye?"

Encouraged by the familiar legend and the ritual, Cadet Tilly replied, "Aye, sir."

Turning from the cadet, Paris raised an eyebrow and closed the distance at a casual slow prowl, studying the host who had invited her by override to this conversation. As she entered the partially completed lounge, it amused her they seemed to be going with the mod plastic chairs and tables of her era in a nostalgic twist cafe on the roof. Easing herself into the offered seat, she smoothed out her skirt as she did so in a practiced motion to remain somehow conservative in the minidress uniform that was too short for her anyway, at least in the back.

Crossing her legs at the knee, Paris settled into her seat, folding her hands in her lap and looking to all the world like the demure sidekick from the 2260's. "Mister Engstrom. Agent Engstrom? Alden? Al? Hello, I'm Rita Paris. I imagine there's a file on me, and I suspect it's classified. I'll answer what questions I can without violating security clearances, so let's have that word you wanted, shall we?"

Sitting down as well, the man pulled out a paper notebook and pen, opening it to a blank page, ignoring the attempts at his name. "Thank you. I'll get right to the point, Mizz Paris. Why. Are you here." Though it was phrased as a question, his tone made it more of a statement. His peculiar speech patterns also added an interesting dynamic to it as well.

"Why are any of us here has been a universal question that has plagued mankind since the dawn of self-awareness. It is theorized that every living creature experiences at least some degree of that, although many of the insectoid castes dispute that rather successfully."

"In this particular instance," Paris redirected her rambling narrative, "I will assume you don't mean this date in time, but this locale? It's Starfleet Command. I'm on Earth, and I haven't seen Starfleet Command in 130 years or so, why wouldn't I come look? It's so much... bigger. Everything is. I've been Starfleet my entire life. I saw then rebuild Starfleet Command back in 2255, at the launch of the five year missions. But it was nothing compared to this."

Alden sat there and listened. The woman was evasive... But he didn't see any signs she was lying. That was good at least. "Very well. What about your current... Assignment..."

"Ah ah ah," she wagged her finger at him. "My assignment is classified, and we both know that, because I'm classified, my assignment is more classified than I am and all of that is a need to know basis, Mister Engstrom. Which leads me to the question, why do you need to know?"

The eternally slightly miffed Engstrom the inumerable was slightly more miffed as he answered. "It is my... Job... To know... Mizz Paris. Also, my clearance is tem-porally... High... Please... If you will... Answer the ques-tion."

"I'm supposed to accept your say-so that your clearance is second only to the Almighty? Uh uh, pal. Papa Paris only raised one dumb kid and he's not here. You'll have to do better than a 'trust me' and a high-handed answer, because that is not a conversation I'm having with my higher ups, thank you very much." With that, Paris sat back and waited as she realized she had no idea how to recognize what high clearance would look like these days. But she had a better card up her sleeve, and these were still the opening gambits of this chess game.

"In-deeed..." Pulling out a hand scanner, Engstrom passed it near Rita and it gave a quick chirrup. "USS Hera..." The look on his face slowly fell to one of almost dread as he put the device away and looked back up at the woman. "Captain... Enalia Tel-van... She has al-most as many temporal... Incursions... As Kirk..."

"Waaaahhhhlll, to be fair, if you add up all of us together we might outstrip old Jim. But to be fair, a few of those times were accidents and some were authorized missions exploring the timestream on Starfleet's orders, so was it an incursion so much? And not like they had any choice but to chase after poor crazed Leonard after he accidentally destroyed the Federation and Starfleet." This Rita knew from her own timeline because she'd read the reports, but she'd always been a name-dropping navigator.

"So you've asked a question you didn't need me to answer," the girl anachronism observed. "What's next, try to trip me up temporally through trivia? You're after something here, Agent Engstrom, but you're being evasive about it. Subtle isn't really my watchword, you know- and if you know who you are then you ought to know."

The DTI Agent was starting to look tired at this point, but he pressed on. "Your chronal displacement... Does not match... Your recorded disappearance. Neither... Does your quantum res-on-ance. Our scanners indicate a severe... And disastrous... Buildup of chrono-temporal quantum ener-gies... Inside you." Leaning in a bit closer, he grew a bit more serious. "Mizz Paris... You are a building... Reality... Bomb... According to the kilo-meter wide... Scanner... Be-neath us..."

"So I ask again. WHY are you here..." This time Engstrom stared into the lovely eyes of the time tossed tourist without blinking, waiting for more of an answer.

"I'm a transdimensional transporter accident- solar flares, ion storm and damaged transporter with a genius at the controls," Rita answered bluntly. "Shunted me through to this reality where I was encountered by my assignment and recruited back into Starfleet Intelligence. I'm here because I wanted to see my home planet in this time and place, because I miss it and I have always been a proud earthling. What part of why am I here have I not explained to your satisfaction, Al?"

Engstrom took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Transdimensional as well as transtemporal? He was definitely going to need a vacation soon, but he never seemed to have the time for it. "Very well... However... You have no Federation ID registered... On top of that... We'll need to... Re-solve... Your quantum energy... Crisis... Before allowing you to... Continue your... ... Tour..."

"Mmmm. I'll be more than happy to let you resolve that, as soon as you have the authorization of my commanding officer. Because that's who has authority over me in this instance." Paris tapped her breast, uncertain if the call would go through. "This is Commander Paris calling the USS Hera, patch me through to Captain Telvan, please."

After a quick confirmation chirrup and a brief wait, the call did in fact go through. "Captain Telvan here. Is something wrong, Commander?"

"Ma'am, I'm on the rooftop of Starfleet Command with one Alden Engstrom who professes to be from the DTI, who feels that I've a disastrous buildup of chrono-temporal quantum energies brewing inside me. So I felt you should have some say in this, given the nature of our mission." On the other hand, he says I'm a reality bomb. Who knows, he may be right. Rita thought to herself. She'd been on edge since walking into the building, and there was a sort of thrumming just at the edge of her perception, like a speaker on low feedback.

You could almost hear Enalia's stifled sigh as she replied. "Agent Aaaaalden... Eeeeengstroooommmm.... Which one is it? The fifteenth? Eighteenth? Twelveth?"

"Thir-teenth..." the agent offered in a flat tone, clearly annoyed at the old rivalry.

A chuckle came over the comm line. "That's him alright." She then paused a moment, considering the situation. "The DTI does have scanners that we don't have. You're also in an area where there's a lot more transporter activity than you're used to. As infuriatingly annoying as that man is... He is trustworthy..."

"Mizz Paris also does not have valid Federation ID..." added Engstrom.

"The files were sent in months ago to Admiral Faraday at Intel Command. I'll have words with him and see why it hasn't been fully processed yet." Enalia wasn't too happy about that as attested to the tone in her voice. "As for the buildup... What do you plan to do?"

"If I may?" Another figure stepped from behind a construction panel. "I'm Agent Martin. One of the DTI's quantum scientists. We've dealt with this sort of thing once before, using the Midas array. We believe we can successfully replicate the process without anyone dying this time."

"Whoah whoah whoah hold it right there, mister," Paris rose from her seat to be better prepared for action. "If you think you're doing some mad science to me without appropriate representation, you've got another thing coming. I'd like to request the chief science officer's assistance, Captain Telvan, if I may ma'am?" Paris responded with a half-smile. If people were going to do crazy science with her quantum signature, it wasn't happening without Sonak on the scene. After all, he was the leading expert in her specific case, and no one had her best interests at heart more than her spouse the brilliant scientist, Sonak of Vulcan.

"I agree. I'll assign him and Yeoman Dedjoy to the team. Also, nothing happens without your consent." Enalia's reply was full of fire at the mention of the Midas array. She knew enough about the more secretive side of that thing's history. Sure, it had some successes with contacting Voyager and scanning the Delta quadrant. But it also had some massive failures that were as classified as the USS Hera's mission.

Engstrom had no choice but to concede at this point. "Very well... You'll have your way... For now..."

"You'll thank me later. I'm doing you a favor, really. So do they beam in her and accompany us or will they be beaming to coordinates and we'll meet them there? It's your armageddon we're forestalling, I'm just the herald." Paris was in a remarkably good mood despite being told that there were dire things wrong with the electrochemical current generated within her physical form which apparently resonated with the universe of which she was not a native in a negative way. It was beyond her ability to grasp at this point, so she just took it as another crisis and began to act accordingly.

Engstrom replied immediately. "Please have them report to our office, in Ohio... Suitable facilities are there... We will be en route... Shortly..."

"All right Agent Engstrom the Infinite..."Enalia replied, eliciting an eyeroll from the man. "We'll meet you there. Don't be late."

"Well, scenic Ohio, lucky me. So what exactly is in Ohio-" Paris had turned to head for the turbolift when she ran into the very excited Cadet Tilly.

"Ithoughtaboutwhatyousaidand and and I stayed because I knew it was the right thing to do even if it might be classified and hoo, wow, I mean, wow, so, reality bomb huh? That's, that's pretty yeah, real exciting," the panicked cadet, who had tried to run but instead, as the participants in the conversation ignored him, stayed to witness what came to pass, and was as advertised now privy to all sorts of classified information he was reasonably positive he would never be allowed to tell another living soul.

The time-tossed tourist took him by the shoulders and nodded proudly. "Well done, Cadet. When duty called you did not shy from it, even though you were scared and in over your head. You keep to that, you'll make a great officer someday. And before you ask, no, you can't come along for this part. Your tour has ended. But if reality as we know it doesn't end, you can assume we figured it out. Melior esse, cadet!"

As the Department of Temporal Investigations special agent nudged them all to the turbolift, Rita whispered back to Alden Engstrom, "Please don't flashy-thing away his memories. He'll not breathe word, Mr, Tilly, because he is a fine and able officer in training. Isn't that right, Cadet Tilly?"

Up until that point it hadn't dawned on him that anyone might try to wipe his memories of the encounter, which started a whole new line of anxiety within him. But outwardly, with a little nodding from Paris to encourage him, he replied.

"Ah, yes, yes ma'am. I am, ah, I am sworn to secrecy by the Starfleet Secrecy Act of 21... 88, which indicates that any Starfleet officer who is exposed to confidential material must consider themselves bound by the clearance of the material. Which would in turn apply to any officer trainee who has agreed to be bound by the Starfleet Code of Military Justice such as myself, Commander."

"Excellent. Then he'll remember this experience, and it will make him a better officer," Paris declared.

"Very well... Cadet Vril Tilly... Is it? I will... Re-member that name..." Engstrom slipped a silver device back into his jacket pocket with one last glare to the cadet as the turbolift door closed.

Which would turn out to be true. Sworn to secrecy but fascinated by the mysteries, Admiral Vril Tilly would go on to become the founder of the Temporal Integrity Commission, which would become the branch of Starfleet charged with overseeing the safety of time itself. Always he would remember the advice given to him by one Commander Rita Paris, whom he had met as a first year cadet at the Academy, who had challenged him with two simple words in Latin:

Be better.

As the Department of Temporal Investigations shuttle finally came in for a landing in the middle of the open field, a small metal hut extended from the ground and a turbolift door opened so the pilot tried to align the exit of the shuttle with the door of the turbolift. As the agents and Rita exited the shuttle, they headed into the turbolift and everything sealed itself back up as if it was never there.

Inside the turbolift was Captain Telvan, an Intel PaDD in hand. Handing the PaDD to Rita, she grinned wryly. "Welcome to the DTI Ohio installation." That was when the initial levels gave way to the actual underground city and the clear sides clearly showed a much larger complex of blue and silver stretching out for miles under the Ohio landscape. "They tell me this is where they monitor the timeline. Other than that and the equipment we'll be using, most of the equipment here is supposedly chronometrically locked data storage. The entirely of Federation knowledge is stored here."

"Hi, good morning to you too, Captain... seriously what the heck? The entirety of Federation knowledge?" Paris paused to take in the view. "Wow- we know a lot. But how did it end up in Ohio? For that matter, how have I ended up in Ohio twice in one week?" Paris ended with a mutter.

Enalia couldn't help but chuckle. "Seriously... I should build a castle here or something. Maybe a nice summer home with a... What do people in Ohio even do? Run away and join Starfleet? I mean so many famous captains were from here..."

"Thanks for coming, Captain. I don't really know what's going on, but these guys seem pretty concerned, so I guess it has something to do with me and transporters or how I got here or something. Honestly I'm not sure, but... good to see a friendly face, ma'am." While most wouldn't catch on to the seemingly casual tone, Enalia Telven had gotten to know Rita Paris over the past few months, and she could tell the young woman was trying to remain calm, but what she'd been told was amping up her anxiety considerably. Having her captain greet her at the door was helping though- she could hear it in the transporter-phobic officer's voice.

Wrapping one arm around the time-tossed tourist, Enalia grinned that piratical grin of hers. "Hey, I'd never let you face something like this alone. Whatever happens, we're in this together. As for what they detected... ehhh, they've got a quantum scanner bigger than our ship. I'm sure between our people and theirs, we'll get all this sorted out in time for dinner. Don't you worry."

As the turbolift descended the rest of the way down, they entered the research area which was quite a bit less flashy but so much more interesting to look at with odd shaped tech hanging this way and that. Displays and monitors were plentiful as were bright lights and conduit cables. There they were met by Yeoman Dedjoy and Alden Engstrom, along with several labcoat wearing scientists.

Dedjoy piped up first, looking up from a pair of PaDDs. "Captain, these readings... If we had scanners like this, we could have easily solved the Commander's transport allergy ages ago.z" The doll-like eyes shifted for epic sideye to regard the labcoat brigade. "I'm just not sure I trust these people with their track record. The last time they tried draining off this much trans-chrono-dimensional displaced energy they vaporized a small inhabited moon and tore a hole in subspace."

"And that's what you two are here for," the spotted Captain replied, squeezing Rita's shoulder tighter as she guided her out of the turbolift into the large brightly colored lab. "To make sure everyone walks away form this in one piece and very much alive."

"I'm not, I'm not really encouraged by all of this talk of vaporization and making sure everyone walks away alive," Paris said under her breath, but loud enough for the captain to hear. "What, what's so bad about a lot of trans-chrono dimensional displaced energy? Is the displacement bad or the trans-chrono part? Does this have something to do with me not being a native, because I'm pretty sure I was considered naturalized by Starfleet." Paris asked with a hint of anxiety creeping into her tone. The more she heard, the less transporter accident-prone anachronism liked the sound of it.

Right now, the nervous navigator very much wanted a certain somber steely-eyed scientist to explain to her what was going on, and reassure her that it was going to be all right. "Is, ah is Mister Sonak here?

"Here," came the deep soft voice from behind a computer console.

Straightening up, the Vulcan chief science officer of the Hera stepped around it to meet his wife, who was also his superior officer.

"I just finished inputting into this computer the data we collected during our last experiment in the Hera's transporter room, as well as what was recorded during our shared last beam back aboard. My own biometrics were recorded alongside yours during the same transport disturbance event, as well as the compensating effect given by the portable transporter device I activated to ensure our safe return. This will give us a perfect baseline comparison; everything needed to finally understand the phenomena afflicting you."

The relief on the face of the fairly frantic first officer was evident, and beneath the captain’s hand, she could feel the tension drain from muscles that had been tense as corded steel a moment ago. Rita Paris was a brave woman who had faced danger and death many times, but transporters were her bane. Since her first transporter accident, she had been nervous around them and had found ways to avoid them whenever possible. An emergency beam-out from the science colony at Aijon Prime had ended with her having moved not only through space, but time and dimension as well. Every since, her relationship with transporters had been worse than ever before, with transporter beams actually reaching out to try to envelop her and beam her… elsewhere.

Just where that might be, Rita very much did not wish to find out.

Thus as during her tour of Starfleet Command she had been detected by the Division of Temporal Investigations, who were apparently in something of a panic over what was going on with her quantum field. Which was all Greek to Rita- just because she regularly shared minds with one of the most brilliant men in existence didn’t make her a quantum physicist, so much of what was being said went over her head. But low odds of survival were something that she did understand, deep concern to get her away from Starfleet Command she understood, and now that Sonak was here, she knew there was at least one scientist in the room who had her best interests at heart, deeply understood her case and would not let anything bad happen to her.

The fact that the captain had come personally was both anxiety enhancing and relieving. Rita was glad to have her commanding officer present- again, Enalia might not understand all of the science, but she had Rita’s best interests forefront in her mind, and she would watch Sonak’s back. But the fact that she felt motivated to come in person was also worrisome to Paris, because that indicated the severity of the situation.

“So, um, what are we doing with Rita’s quantum field today?” Paris asked with a feigned cheer designed to cover her anxiety that failed just as soundly as one would expect. “I heard something about a Midas Array and good odds of somebody not dying, and a lot of trans-chrono dimensional displaced energy?” She might not understand what it all meant, but Rita could parrot with the best of them.

One of the female scientists stepped up. With her hair tied back, glasses low on her nose, and a lab coat on, you would have thought she'd be one of those mousey assistant types, but no. "I'm Professor Langstrom, the director of quantum entanglement research here and I'll be..." Eyeing the outsiders for a moment, she thought better of her original choice of words. "Coordinating our efforts. Mister Sonak and Miss Dedjoy have brought a lot of new data to the table that we have not considered before and we're keen on exploring the ramifications of what this data means further, but first we have to consider your safety and that of spacetime within around a light year or two of you. If you continue absorbing transported quantum energy like you have, we fear that it's going to tear a hole in the fabric of what we know as reality, connecting your old dimension to ours in ways that we can't predict. With this new data and your crewmates' help, along with your consent..."

Dedjoy smiled reassuringly. "One piece of information they didn't have before was where all that energy was being stored. Guess which AI and genius figured that one out while you were on your way here."

The Professor rolled her eyes. "Yes, you have tools we don't have and we have tools you don't have. That's why we're collaborating. It's the Federation way. Woohoo."

Agent Engstrom sighed heavily. "Please don't mind her... She's not a... People... Person..."

“Hi, Rita Paris,” the subject in question who wasn’t all that keen on territoriality being a part of the proceedings raised her hand like a schoolgirl while the other hand rested against the desk she was standing next to, in a white-knuckled grip.

“Walking talking menace to spacetime here, who isn’t going to give you a whit of consent if she doesn’t understand what’s going on, so feel free to wag your PhD’s around to see whose is the most prestigious all you like. But I’d like to have an actual clear answer of what’s going on and what the urgency is and what you propose to do about it. Yeah yeah, threat to spacetime, might unzip reality, I caught that part. If someone could speak in a few more specifics that would be swell. Otherwise I can go on my merry way, avoid transporters for the rest of my life and not have to deal with this intellectual pissing contest.”

While that wasn’t her intention, people noodling about with her as a lab rat didn’t set well with the ancient astronaut, and while she was reassured by Sonak’s presence, listening to the comedy act was putting her even more on edge than when she started. In short, she was already frightened, all of this bickering was just scaring her more, and Rita Paris responded to fear with action. Right now, she would be perfectly content to go back to the Hera and let the Science department and Dedjoy work out the answers. Her grip on the desk next to her was so strong, that her arm was shaking slightly, an outward sign of her inner pressure as she worked to keep her voice calm and level.

Enalia decided to step in, speaking softly and tossing a glare at all those upsetting her first officer. "Basically, from what I understand of it, there's something in your old galaxy trying to pull you back with every transport near you and it's sucking energy in with it and even if you avoid transporters entirely, that energy will still build because of transports on the other side. Ila and Lucky were able to pinpoint and isolate it as some sort of inter-dimensional rift tying you to the warp core of the Exeter. Sonak has a plan that won't put you at risk."

"As for the DTI... They have the tools and have graciously offered to assist in our efforts. When this works you'll no longer have anything to fear from transporters other than your normal phobia, which... I'll be honest, I'd have a phobia of them too after even a tenth of what you've been through. Does all that make sense?"

“Yes… yes, I guess that makes sense. Thank you, Captain… thanks,” Paris’ tone was grateful, and her grip eased enough to just go back to white knuckled, and she nodded her assent. None of that sounded good, and if she had to hazard a guess it would be the warp core of the Constitution to which she was attuned before the Hera’s, but why quibble over quantum details. No... the rest of the core sample.Sonak had a plan, and that was something she would trust in any reality, regardless of whomever else was involved. “The rest of the core sample made it to the Exeter, then migrated to the warp core and it's got some of my molecules and I have some of it's and it's pulling me through spacetime. I'll be damned."

Closing her eyes and shaking her head, Rita Paris considered the sublime insanity of her life. Then she opened her eyes and looked around, feigning confidence that she did not feel. "Okay, so, ah, how do we get this party started, then…?

All the while, Sonak remained silent and stoic, until his wife's question left the room in complete silence. He sent her a reassuring glance and concentrated as he spoke.

"I have not yet discussed my plan with the Department. I expect that the officials here will be in all probability feel... what is the word... ah yes, dismayed... to say the least, by my proposal."

He then turned to face the DTI scientist.

"I have also come to the conclusion that this effect affecting Commander Paris is due to our native universe trying to... bring her back; something much akin to what could be labelled for a better term as a... quantum gravitational field. In a gross, simplistic way, it would be our entire native universe pulling at her the way gravity acts on a planet with any object or being; pulling it towards it center."

His tone became deadpan as he spoke.

"Your office has long ago determined that Commander Paris and I come from an alternate quantum reality accidentally created by a rip through the quantum foam, an effect caused by the late Ambassador's Spock ill-advised attempt to create an artificial black hole through subspace using red matter. In other words, she and I come from a universe that should have never existed."

His steely grey eyes went to those of everyone in the room before settling into those of the woman he loved, though he had no emotions.

"The logical solution is obvious; correct the anomaly and restore reality."

"Undo that universe, is that what you're saying?" asked the girl in the old gold uniform. "The Hobus supernova may or may not have destroyed Romulus here- details are shaky on that front. But Spock and Nero traveling in time and dimension... created our universe, as a splinter timeline by virtue of both of them being shunted through a rip in spacetime, a literal tear in reali- oh, that quantum foam you mentioned, yeah." Caught up as she was in following the explanation Paris realized everyone seemed to be watching if not following along, so she proceeded.

"So that created an entire reality right there? Our reality didn't exist until that moment? Is that the theory?" Paris frowned with mock suspiciously. "Okay, okay, assuming that you're correct, because generally speaking that's a safe assumption, then you want to undo that universe somehow, paradoxically wipe it out? No, that would wipe us out too and cause changes to the timeline. So..." the plucky extradimensional explorer shrugged broadly. "I've no idea from there."

It was clear that this was how they worked- he set forth the principles and she articulated until she had processed it and caught up, stimulating the discussion as she did so.

"Indeed it is a now well established theory in temporal mechanics," her husband confirmed. "Temporal mechanics have been demonstrated as thus; if the timeline is altered, it destroys everything beyond that point and replaces it all with it's alternative... unless said alteration is corrected to restore the timeline to it's original state. However, that is not what happened with the Narada incident. Instead of a new timeline, a new reality bubble was created, one artificially created by the tampering with subspace of Ambassador Spock and the subsequent alterations caused by Nero in this mirror creation; one that Spock could and should have corrected... but did not. For some unknown reason, he allowed this tangent pseudo-reality to exist... and now, it is threatening your material existence... possibly more than just one individual life."

Again he looked at the DTI scientist.

"This is why the temporal Prime Directive has been made for; beyond the fate of one Starfleet officer, it is our duty to correct an aberration that could have dire consequences for this universe, if not reality itself."

"That's where we come in," Professor Langstrom grinned like she had a surprise up her sleeve. "I won't go into the details, but we have the tech to not only collapse that splinter timeline the way that your esteemed colleague intends, but to integrate you both fully into this one. There is a side effect that you both might gain the memories of your former counterparts of this timeline after the Kelvin-Narada encounter, and if you do, please let me know. It would be fascinating research data and we would provide any counseling that you would require. In fact the..." Realizing her rambling on would likely just upset Rita, the Professor pulled out a small clipboard and an old school clicky pen and nervously scribbled something on it as she walked over towards one of the desks. "Sorry, over four hundred years old and I still can't keep myself from rambling when I'm excited..."

"Okay, again, not a confidence builder there and I'd really rather not have anyone else's memories in my head," Paris muttered before speaking up and seeing if she understood what was going on here. "Because the Narada incident happened like a month after I was born, because it's Jim Kirk's birthday. So that would mean a lifetime of memories. Brrr!" The idea gave Rita the willies. Through all of her bizarre adventures she had always been... her.. Except for that time she was possessed, that time she fell sway to the will of Landru, the time she had been hypnotized by a vampire, the time...

"So does this mean that any extradimensional traveler has this sort of problem, a buildup of energies over time of their home timeline attempting to 'reclaim' them? Or is it just me, because transporters think I'm delicious?"

The Professor looked up from her readings. "You're only the second record we have of this buildup happening. Other extradimensional travelers normally don't stay long enough, but those that have, have shown no signs, including Mister Sonak. As for the memory issue I mentioned, remember how the Vulcans worked with humans back during the NX program so humans could build faster warp engines? The twenty ninth century Federation is working with us in a similar manner on this tech and though we're making progress... We're fairly confident you won't gain any extra memories. Even they don't think it'll happen with our current tech. You would have to be a multidimensional being in the first place and last I checked they were just myth and legend."

Enalia and Dedjoy both looked around at the other USS Hera crew not wanting to mention that they currently had one aboard the USS Hera in VIP quarters.

"I don't believe so, Professor. I'm just plain old human with a little help from a Vulcan, and though I come from another reality- wait, what's a multidimensional being?" Paris detoured her own answer with another question.

Sonak answered her.

"An entity either existing on several quantum planes of existence at once, like the Traveller encountered by the USS Enterprise D, or one able to shift from one quantum universe to another, like the being called Lazarus met by the USS Enterprise under Captain Kirk. You however are not like any of those; rather, you are caught between quantum forces susceptible to shift you from one reality to another, like what happened to Lieutenant Commander Worf during his time of service under Captain Picard. Like him, your original spacetime frame pulls at your being; but since this realm is in fact the result of an aberration, so becomes your own existential reality. Hence why this must be corrected."

"Exactly so. It is also theorized by some here that the Earth had contact with similar beings a few thousand years ago in western and northern Europe but I prefer to think it's all just mythology." Finishing her readings, the Professor unclipped the top sheet of paper and handed it off to Sonak. "Put a time-locked human like me in there... Who knows... I might cease to exist. Either way, we used this same tech to... Correct the timeline so that the Hobus supernova didn't destroy the Romulus system so we know it's reliable at least."

Nodding along with 'we corrected the timeline so Romulus still exists' which was news to Rita and who were these guys again? "Hello, hi, another question from the dumb girl in the room, but... what about all the people over there, in that other universe. I mean, you can call them all aberrations, but... so are we. Here, in this universe, we both died from transporter accidents. Why do we get a chance to live, and not those billions of people? Just because we were lucky enough to get out?"

"It is but a matter of perspective," Sonak pointed out. "Yes, we both have been 'lucky' enough to... get out of it, as you so colloquially put it. But all these other lives, they were in fact ... caught in it; living lives they should not have lived... or being deprived of it when they should have lived, like those billions of Vulcans killed by the Narada."

He took a moment to let that sink in before continuing.

"There is also the possibility that both our lives in this universe were adversely affected by the existence of this tangent reality; that our deaths in this timeline were not in fact supposed to have happened, but in fact did because of the backlash of the entire multiverse trying to rebalance things once this alternate bubble of reality was artificially produced.

The master of logic frowned a bit as he thought further.

"But speculation is pointless. This is exactly why the Prime Directive exists; no living being can and should decide the fate of another, let alone entire civilizations, time or planes of existence. That you and I found circumstances to... cheat death, as goes the popular expression, is part of both our existence now; but that should not justify us to allow an illusion of our own making threaten your life, countless other lives and possibly reality itself."

Sonak now looked straight into the eyes of his wife.

"Come what may, it is our moral and professional duty to correct it. That it should finally free you of quantum entanglements and restore reality are the most positive outcome. That we, you and I, may be erased from existence is the most negative. But even in this eventuality, reality is restored and we would have done what is right. Short or long our lives may be, there is no better way to live. There is no alternative."

Professor Langstrom scribbled something else on her clipboard as she spoke. "On top of that, the N to C wave ratio in your old reality is unsustainable and is collapsing in on itself in our time period, as near as I can tell. Your time period is calling to you but there is no future time frame for you to match up with." Looking up from her old fashioned clipboard, she waved her pen in the air trying to relate that to something easy to understand. "Ahhh... The differences are unsustainable. People here don't exist there and people there don't exist here. And the Klingons there are now bald for some reason... Thanks for that image go to Miss Dedjoy."

“Anyway, since the timelines love balancing themselves out, in another few thousand years, if it can't, it'll collapse on its own..." the professor began. "But by then our issues will have progressed too far and we need to solve them sooner."

Looking at her data, Sonak's eyebrow went up.

"Professor Langstrom; if you follow your equations to their full conclusion, the logical conclusion is that there is a definitive possibility that this collapsing of our fabricated parallel universe could start a chain reaction and also collapse this universe... up to every universe across the entire quantum foam."

His grey eyes met each and every one of theirs.

"If this is correct... then indeed, there is no alternative. We must restore spacetime... and put an end to this tangent 'Kelvin' universe."

"We must restore spacetime... and put an end to this tangent universe," Sonak intoned gravely.

"Well... I wasn't going to mention that part." Langstrom huffed slightly as she tucked her clipboard back away. "I've often been berated for being inconsiderate and telling people their entire existence would unravel in around twelve hundred years, give or take... Fascinating, but I'd rather live much longer before seeing the end of space-time."

Turning to Rita, Enalia spoke softly, one hand on the lost navigator's back. "I know this is a whole heck of a lot to take in and I won't pretend to even understand half of it, but are you... Okay-ish? How are you feeling? Do you need something to drink?"

“Double dirty martini, three olives?” Paris wisecracked, her voice warbling a bit to deny her attempt at blowing off the offer. “I’m not… erased from existence isn’t my optimal outcome, so that’s a little worrisome. But… yeah. I guess this is… something that has to be done. If we don’t close our old reality down it will eventually endanger this one, so…” the time-tossed traveler shook her head.

"It’s just so hard to swallow that all of those people, all of those lives have to end in order to save this universe. Seems like it’s stepping over the bones of the dead to save the living, you know?” Rita’s big blue eyes were shining with restrained tears. “I’m trying not to think about murdering all of those people, whose lives are just as valid and real in my mind as their own. After all, Sonak and I were born there, grew up there, and fell in love there. We had friends and relatives and shipmates there, a hundred years or so in the past… but according to the professor there is no current history. So it’s like a finite bubble, I guess. It’s… it’s a lot to take in, knowing I’m the harbinger of doom for my entire universe, you know?”

While she was trying her best to put a brave face on it, this wasn’t the ‘everybody lives and let lives’ solution Paris consistently strove toward, and her own survival against that of a universe was a bit much. Yes, it would eventually collapse on its own, but the universe was going to die out eventually here, too. It wasn’t having the plug pulled because one escapee was threatening to destroy it by amassing catastrophic energies.

“Isn’t there some way to save both universes? I understand the logic, I do, but isn’t there a better way? We’re Starfleet, surely we can find a way to coexist with the kelvin timeline where we both get to live?” It was simple and naïve, but Rita had to try, even if she was grasping at straws. The guilt of being the cause of the death of a universe was far more than she felt she could bear, so there had to be a better way. “Can’t we just isolate ourselves from it instead, seal up that tear or something?”

The spotted captain looked for the nearest replicator and finding it, programmed in the requested drink and brought it back to Rita without any questions. "It's synthohol, but hopefully it helps."

Professor Langstrom sighed heavily and hung her head, trying to think of a compromise. "Then think of it this way. When you finish a book and close it, do those characters cease to exist? No. You have observed them. You know they exist. They will always and have always existed. We're just removing the quantum and temporal energy behind that existence. The book still exists, however the only way to observe it is by rereading it. There is no holonovel or transporter that can take you there. Just a book and a memory of the observation."

“That’ll help a bit ma’am, thank you.” Eyeing the apparently immortal scientist whose views of the cosmos were nowhere near Rita’s own, she gulped down the entire cocktail, grasped the plastic sword and consumed the olives on one long string, handing them back to the Captain.

“Sonak? Isn’t there any other way?” Rita pleaded. Logic, she knew, was irrefutable. But if there was a way, Sonak would find it. Of this she had no doubt- however, given all of the information he had presented, it was clear that the resolution he had proposed was the best way to insure the safety of this reality, and possibly their own personal existences as well. But she had to try to save those lives, because the career Starfleet officer simply could not accept that verdict without trying to find another way, a compromise… some way that did not involve that catastrophic loss of life and history.

The Vulcan scientist looked straight at the Human navigator.

"You are being emotional, not logical. This alternate universe, those you call people over there, are but shadows of this universe. Had it not been for this universe's Spock's blunder and failure to correct it, they would have never been. They are but artificially made illusions of this reality. And now, that dream is threatening to obliterate reality... starting with you. Even moreso, the backlash of this aberration is possibly what caused our true lives here to be no more, in favor of this unreal existence we believe to have been ours. We are ending a dream to preserve reality."

He stood straight before her and his tone became formal.

"Commander; we are Starfleet officers. We have sworn an oath to lay down our lives for the preservation of the Federation's ideals. And, in the words of captain Jean-Luc Picard; this ideal states that our first duty is to the truth, be it scientific truth, historical truth or personal truth; it is the founding principle upon which Starfleet is based. If we fail in this, we do not deserve the uniform."

Then, in an unprecedented public gesture, he took her hands in his own and gazed deeply into her eyes.

"The universe we come from... it is a lie. Lies must be challenged."

Searching his enigmatic eyes, the calm logic of Sonak's mind flowed with Rita's own emotional turbulence, the two blending to enlighten and inform. While her objections were humanitarian, Kirk did not weep for the unborn when he let Edith Keeler die to save the future. With her insight into the kolinahr's mind and his thoughts, the chrononaut saw the calculations, understood the enormity of the threat she represented, and could see the scientist's reasoning why the accidentally created splinter universe from which they had originated had to be destroyed to save the prime, original timeline. The people there and their lives and experiences were no less valid to her, but if they allowed the Kelvin timeline to survive, it would likely unzip not only this reality, but adjacent realities in a cascading effect that would likely do untold damage on a cosmic scale. Billions of lives would be lost as universes were rent asunder.

All because Rita Paris was the sentimental sort, who desperately believed in peaceful coexistence.

Still she clung to him, the hand of the last kolinahr of Vulcan, sole repository of a world’s wisdom and philosophy, who now was no longer the last, nor alone. Their bond enabled her to explore her questions, see the percentages of probability and comprehend the entire problem, as well as see the most likely solution. She saw the distinct yet very real chance that she and he might be erased from existence. But she had no fear, because in his vast and incalculable mind, she saw the simple truth that outweighed any of her objections.

The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

I understand, now. Thank you, t’hy’la. What would I ever do without you? she joked, but they both knew the answer.

Releasing the warm, dry hands of the greatest mind of the age, Paris turned to face the assemblage, once more the portrait of cocky confidence.

“All right, then. So what do we have to do to save the multiverse?”

Sonak's answer was as simple as it was deep in consequences.

"It is rather obvious; we have to go back in time... and stop it from ever happening."

"Wait... what... we're actually deliberately going to cause a... ohhh, that's why we might not exist anymore, right. Okay... okay, time travel in the other direction. Sure, how hard can it be? So do we have special suits for this, or are we going to do that slingshot thing?" Rita was a bit excited if they were going to actually try that with a starship.

"Both of you will be in a chrono-lock corridor while an agent does the traveling, just in case," added the Professor. "Someone else will be going back, while you guide them."

"I'll go," Enalia volunteered immediately.

"Captain?!?" Now it was Paris' turn to grasp the shoulder of the captain of the Hera and steer her to one side. "You have... responsibilities to the ship, to the Commodore. You're too important to risk on a mission like this.... hell, I don't even know what kind of mission this is other than time traveling, but-"

The crimson wrapped Trill flashed her most confident smile. "Well, from what I gather I'll have to go back, prevent Spock from using the red matter and creating that blackhole which created your shard dimension. Ideally, I assume that means preventing the creation of the red matter in the first place. Since the destruction of Romulus was prevented by collapsing the supernova as soon as it started... It should be a walk in the park."

"You're really going to do this?" Rita peered into the eyes of the spotted starship captain, looking past the piratical bravado. "You're gonna travel back in time and change history to save the universe... to try to save me?"

"If I were in your boots I know you'd do the same. So yes. It's part of my code." Enalia was dead serious on that answer.

The pretty pilot's face scrunched up in consternation. "Given the life I lead, I don't know if 'you'd do it' is really much of a watermark, ma'am," Rita commented dryly. "So do you have a plan?"

"Then return the favor when my tribunal comes to bear," Enalia added with a scoff. "As for a plan... I'm hoping the DTI people have one. They have the experience, after all."

"But... Since Sonak knows all the details and has been through this whole ordeal logically... I'm betting the easiest way to do it would be to mind meld with him then go back and mind meld with Spock. Somehow." Enalia tugged down on her uniform top and glanced around. She'd never crossed minds like that before, but she imagined it wouldn't be much different from being joined. After all, she was constantly two minds in one so how hard could it be?

"Wait, so basically..." Paris started putting it all together. "Old Spock knew everything that happened. Sonak held old Spock's katra, so he knows what Spock knew, from Spock's perspective. Sonak could mind meld with you, compartmentalize an entire warning for Spock, essentially from Spock, and you become the spacetime carrier pigeon with the message?"

"A little more than I knew... But even better. Yes, that's exactly it." Enalia turned to Sonak, knowing he could easily hear the whole conversation. "Do you concur Lieutenant? Are you willing to mind meld with a Joined Trill?"

All the while, Sonak was listening, his eyes and face as blank as if he had been made of wax. When Telvan spoke directly to him, he shook his head.

"With all due respect, Captain, that question is irrelevant."

One glance towards Langstrom was enough for her to nod and allow him to reveal what they had previously discussed; what he was implying. And so, for the benefit of the other officers of the Hera, he explained the result of his thinking.

"Trying to stop the Hobus catastrophe from happening would be a violation of the Temporal Prime Directive. This event happened in this universe and was not the result of spacetime tampering. Therefore, it is a legitimate part of this timeline. It must not be altered. Spock must make his attempt to swallow the subspace supernova with red matter and both he and Nero must go through the wormhole briefly created by it."

Before they could ask what was the alternative,he showed on a nearby console a graph of the temporal spacetime divergence and how it changed as he further explained.

"The point of divergence that created our alternate reality starts here; when the Narada emerged earlier in the past and met one ship; the USS Kelvin. That is the moment where we must intervene. Then, Nero, his ship and his crew must be prevented from risking altering the timeline... and Spock, when he emerged in the modified reality, here, twenty years later."

He looked at Rita and Enalia in turn.

"Commander, Captain; we must make sure the Kelvin never encounters the Narada and continues on it's way to Earth, for James Kirk to be born there... and be raised by his father. We must remove the Narada and it's people from this time period. And we must insure Spock returns."

“Soooo… since the DTI so casually pointed out they already stopped the Hobus supernova, how do we remove the Narada and it's crew from that time period and make sure that Spock comes home?” Rita asked plaintively. People often misunderstood the bond that existed between them, and assumed that with regular mind melds, the human woman of average intelligence knew what the brilliant kolinahr scientist knew. Which wasn’t exactly true. While Sonak shared much with her, his mind was a vast storehouse of information and calculation ability, whereas hers was quite small by comparison. He chose to show her aspects and elements of his mind when they connected, but the difference in their intellects made full sharing at every encounter impractical as her mind could not hold the vastness of his own as well as her own thoughts and memories.

Thus in moments like this, those aware of the telepathic and empathic bond they shared were often confused by her still asking questions. But Sonak knew his emotional mate well, and he knew that she needed to be able to parse the information in her own time, often aloud. Thus she still had questions as the plan developed.

Sonak thought for a moment before replying.

"I am not privy to the actual effort made to stop the Hobus catastrophe itself from happening. If it was done through a time altering action, then we are ourselves currently living in an alternate timeline; a violation of the Temporal Prime Directive... unless it was done to correct a previous time altering event that would have been the cause this catastrophe in the first place. That I have not been made aware of either. In any event, it is obvious this did not change the actual emergence of the artificial reality, since you are still affected by it. Therefore, my original proposal stands; prevent the Narada-Kelvin encounter and remove both Nero and Spock from that time period to prevent it from existing."

The Professor and Agent Engstrom traded looks with each other before nodding. Langstrom set aside her clipboard and leaned against one of the desks before speaking. "An Iconian gateway was discovered by the Tal Shiar in the Hobus system and they thought they could get it working. Several years later, they found out too late that it was trapped and... Boom. It caused a supernova in the system's star, which then caused a chain reaction in the Romulan star. As for what we did to prevent the destruction of Romulus..."

Pulling out what looked suspiciously like a pack of Lucky Seven smokes, the mousey Professor continued. "After Spock and Nero were sucked into the black hole, we went back in time and used a device that Captain Picard found on Risa and had to pretend he had destroyed called the Tox Uthot to collapse the supernova before it triggered the Romulan system's destruction."

She pulled one of the cigarettes free and stuck the rest of the back back in her lab coat before continuing. "I believe the mind meld can still work... But to warn Spock to alter his red matter calculations so that the wormhole is smaller and the Narada is crushed as it's pulled through while the jellyfish passes through unscathed. Of course, being a moral being, he'd probably never go for that..."

Sonak's eyebrow rose up.

"Professor Langstrom; are we to understand here that the DTI violated the Temporal Prime Directive and deliberately caused a timeline alteration... and is now proposing to do yet another one?"

"Apparently, without the Romulan Republic, the Temporal accords never get signed at New Khitomer..." Langstrom pointed one finger at Sonak. And we did that under recommendation by Temporal Agents so don't get me started about the needs of the many, ok? There are parts of the Temporal Prime Directive that apply to us that we don't know about, you know. We just have six articles of it."

The Vulcan nodded.

"The logical conclusion from your statement is that the Hobus catastrophe indeed involved a previous violation of the timeline; one that called for a direct intervention to correct it and of which the details have not been forwarded... again to preserve the timeline according to the Directive."

Satisfied with the explanation, he then frowned.

"If that is so, then there is no red matter experiment to stop a subspace supernova that never happened. Spock would not steal the jellyfish and it's red matter container and use it to open a time rift. Henceforth, the alternate reality created by the catastrophe should not exist. Yet, it is still there, tugging at Commander Paris through the quantum spectrum according to your analysis. This is not logical."

"Because we collapsed the supernova after it began but before it triggered a cascade to the Romulan sun. Apparently Spock still had to get lost for some reason." Langstrom waved the cigarette in the air as she spoke. "Because wibbly wobbly timey wimey..."

The Vulcan again lifted an eyebrow at the strange phrasing of the woman then looked more closely at the temporal graph.

"So, if I understand you correctly, the temporal correction was made before the Iconian-projected supernova reached the Romulan star system but after Spock's attempt to stop it; thus saving the Empire's homeworld but still having the Narada and the Jellyfish displacement."

He nodded to her and then looked at his superior officers of the Hera.

"I agree that the most logical course of action then would be to intercept Spock before he uses the red matter and open his wormhole and convince him that his effort are unnecessary... and with fatal consequences both big and small. If we do so, the Narada will therefore be prevented also from going back in time and, witnessing Romulus and Remus being saved, Nero will not loose his mind and plan to destroy Vulcan. The alternate reality will not be created and both this reality... and Commander Paris... will be saved."

Having observed the verbal sparring as the logic of the situation was wrested out of it, Rita figured it was time to weigh in again. "Hello, hey, Rita Paris? Might end the universe? Must admit, kinda curious about our plan to send someone back in time to stop Spock. How exactly do we accomplish this sending back, and I know it's probably a trivial detail, but how do they return?"

The Professor grinned as she tossed the cigarette in the trash. "Well, last time we sent ourselves a probe with a report... But I think we're going to have to use the time ship we've been working on. It seats one and I hope you're a good pilot. Still want to do that mind meld thing too?"

"Send me!" Rita Paris volunteered. "Unless... what happens when I try to move chronally here because dragging all of that trans-chrono dimensional displaced energy behind me as I move counter to the timestream would..." The Professor had been nodding along as Rita figured out that might unravel not only space but time itself. Lowering her head, Rita quietly retracted her volunteer status.

"Yeah, I'm definitely the one going back," Enalia confirmed with a grin.

"I get to do all the shrieking and the captain gets to do the fun stuff. Eh, not that much has really changed in 130 years," Paris nodded thoughtfully, crossing her arms to stroke her chin. "Sonak, are you amenable to the plan of melding minds to place a message within the Captain's mind to let Spock convince Spock not to do it?"

"I would need a moment to prepare," Sonak answered. "However, I must point out that, since I already hold the echo of Spock's katra and mind-melding power, that I have well-honed piloting skills and actual time travel experience, I should be the one to go back. A starship captain is too valuable to risk on such a mission when a perfectly qualified junior officer is available and willing. Choosing anyone else would be illogical."

"First off, you still have to stay here in the vault so you won't risk vanishing. As for why I'm going, consider it Captain's Prerogative." Enalia was dead set on this and no longer grinning. This wasn't something she could ask of anyone else if she has the skills to pull of. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't done this sort of thing on accident on the Hera before. "I know the risks. This isn't my first trip through time. As for the mind meld, take your time. You won't be melding with one person - it'll be with Enalia Artan the host, Telvan the symbiont, and had I any prior hosts, them as well. Which is kind of like a constant Trill mind meld in a way."

"Indeed, this shall be an interesting experience," the Vulcan agreed."Very well; I shall be ready in four minutes."

And so saying, Sonak went to a quiet corner of the room, joining his fingers before his brow and closing his eyes.

"Okay, the 'we gotta stay in the chronal lock chamber' is a convincing argument ma'am," Paris observed, "although I think Sonak has a point. He can navigate in time on the fly if needed and I suspect Spock would more readily agree to meld with him. Which brings up my question, which is how are you going to convince Spock to meld minds with you, Captain?"

"Simple logic." Enalia was back with her confident half grin. "I'm going to tell Ambassador Spock something that will make him go 'Fascinating...' then tell him that I have very little time and that it would expedite the saving of the universe if he did so."

Shaking her head, Rita’s face wore a wry smirk. “All right, fine… you go do the dangerous thing and we’ll wait here and hope for the best.” Being the ones accustomed to taking chances and pulling dangerous stunts, being sidelined for their own good sat well with neither Rita nor Sonak. But the spotted captain was insistent, and her logic was sound. Thus leading Rita to sigh and lay a hand on the trill woman’s shoulder.

“This is a pretty incredible thing you’re doing for us here. So that means you have to make it back in one piece so that you can brag about it, right?” Rita tried to make the tone light, but seeing the captain endanger herself for the sake of her first officer was not easy for her, and she felt helpless. “Promise me you’ll be careful, and that you’ll make it back okay. You’ve never broken a promise to me before, so if you promise me I’ll believe you, Enalia.”

Dead serious, Enalia held up one pinky before her, hooked it into one of Rita's and shook on it. "Rita, I pinky promise I'll come back safely and tell you all about it."

"And if you do not, Captain, we will come after you... or if need be, before you," Sonak then stated as he came back to them. "I am ready."

Enalia turned to face off with the slightly taller Vulcan and nodded, ready to temporarily add another mind to her sense of self. "By your lead then."

The Vulcan invited her too sit before him. Remaining standing, he rubbed his hands slowly together, like a surgeon scrubbing in slow motion, his eyes of steel boring into her. Then, just as deliberately, he placed one hand, then the other, on her skull and face, fingers spread out in almost painful angles to touch specific nerve centers of her head.

Just as slowly, he began to turn around her, his hands crawling smoothly over her cranium, leaning closely towards her as if he wanted to whisper something in her ear.

Three minds where connected in a complete fusion where they shared not only thoughts but memories, feelings, everything that was of the mind but also what the mind experienced of the body; the symbiont, the Trill woman and the Vulcan man. All of this would fade to the level of a dream once contact would be broken; but not the deliberate thoughts the laser-focused mind of Sonak imprinted within the joined consciousnesses of Enalia Telvan.

For several minutes, there was no sound except for their breathing. When he completed an entire circle around her, he stopped then removed his hands slowly from her. STanding straight, his hands went to his back.

"It is done. What the katra of Spock shared with me, I have shared with you... both. And you also have my own thoughts and memories about my original artificial reality and the causes and consequences of it... and also the calculations to program a ship computer to slingshot a warp capable ship back to our present spacetime, using the star of the Romulan system where you will be heading; in case something goes wrong with your retrieval."

He looked at her and added:

"When you will achieve contact with Ambassador Spock, there is one thing you could do to ensure he accepts contact and the idea of mind-melding with you; ask him this: How do you feel?"

"Fascinating," Enalia replied simply as she stood back up. She had always wondered what it would feel like having a prior host and she surmised that that might be the closest she would ever experience to it. She knew Sonak knew a lot of her innermost secrets now, but being raised the way she was, thankfully she had a lot of mental discipline already so it didn't seem he had any trouble with the meld that she could discern. On top of that, they don't let weak minded people Join with Symbionts, so there was that.

Professor Langstrom chose that time to unveil a metalic blue arrowhead shaped shuttle not much larger than a type nine shuttle at in a shuttlebay just adjacent to the lab they were currently in. "And here's your ride. The interface shouldn't be too dissimilar from what you're used to. Flight controls are both manual and T-CARS based. Top warp speed is 8.9. The temporal wormhole controls are on your left. The computer is designed to automatically administer dovaline after each jump to counteract the radiation. As for the injection point, there's an ideal point, just past Jupiter already programmed in."

"Wait, so the plan is to slingshot around... what, Jupiter? Then chase after Spock, who will be what, on Vulcan, en route to Romulus, how does that work? Do we even have a target date and locale?" Paris was genuinely confused. The explanations were coming, but it seemed like other people were on a page of the script she hadn't ready. "I guess I dozed off and missed a few details. Anyone mind catching the slow kid up on the plan? Because if my captain is risking life, limb and the timeline I'd like to know what's supposed to happen."

Langstrom tapped at a panel running temporal injection calculations. "Actually, this system creates a temporal wormhole for nine to thirteen minutes just big enough for the ship to get through that links one point in spacetime to another. Once she gets back the reactor will be fully drained though, so we'll have to pick her up. We can only pack so much dilithium in there, you know."

"Wait, this thing generates spacetime wormholes?!?" To the girl from the era of rocker switches and dials to pilot a starship, the concept of generating wormholes in space and time was not at all something she viewed as casual. She had an inkling of what it took to time travel, and this was far beyond any technology she'd heard of in this century. "Also, question tsill stands- I understand the insertion point now, but when is she catching up with Ambassador Spock?"

"We've targeted a point inside the neutral zone where he stops for nine minutes." Finished with her calculations, Langstrom sent them to the shuttle and turned to Enalia. "All yours, Captain."

"Then I will take my leave." Turning to the door of the shuttlebay, Enalia steeled herself. This would be another of those insane adventures she'd never forget. But Rita Paris caught her arm before she left.

"Take this with you, Captain," Paris requested, handing Enalia the stylized ancient delta comm badge unique to the officer that owned it. "For luck, because you have to come back to return it to me. You have to. Understand?"

It was clear that with all of the stress of the day Rita was worn a bit thin, but she needed to somehow reassure herself the in trying to save her, Enalia Artan nee Telvan would not be lost herself. Over the course of time, Rita Paris had lost everyone she had ever cared about, save Sonak, who'd had to chase her down to reunite with her. But loss took its toll on her, and now she worried she might never see her friend on this most dangerous of missions.

Enalia grinned her patented piratical grin as she took the badge and tacked it to her uniform next to her normal comm badge. "I'll keep it right here close to my heart, just like my promise."

It had been the better part of an hour since Captain Magnus of the Artan family had left the family's newest Baroness, Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox abord her newly acquired ship, the Khallianen. And while she was still shocked to be laying on the Captain's bunk of the mid-sized J-Type ship that was actually hers, she simply couldn't relax.

There was a series of crates that apparently contained gifts for her inclusion into the pirate clan represented by her Captain and the families Princess, Enalia Telvan, but the young part-Romunal pilot had not opened them yet. Her mind was elsewhere. She was worried. She had had a number of boxes of personal effects beamed over to have on the ship. A few changes of clothes and the Romulan disruptor she had purchased at an auction with the Captain and Baroness Schwein over a month ago now. Thinking of that time reminded her of what she was worried about: Schwein.

When she arrived, the Baroness Schwein Von Alcott was there with Captain Magnus. And with Schwein, as always, was her now constant companion, Death. Literally. Dox had recently learned that the two were somehow connected and when Death claimed the life of a sleeping shopkeeper, Dox overhead what happened. Schwein felt it happen and the feeling was unpleasant enough to make the usually unflappable Baroness leave.

Sitting up from her bunk, Dox had had enough waiting. Captain Magnus was going to try and find Schwein and Dox wanted to give them time to talk. But an hour was long enough and she wanted to find out if they were alright. She went to hit her comm badge out of habit before forgetting that she wasn't wearing it. She was still dressed in the deep green formal uniform of an Artan Baroness and would have to find her friends the old fashioned way.

Unbuttoning the tight old world military jacked with the gold, tasseled shoulder boards, she tossed it on her bunk. She still had on the tall black boots and green uniform pants, but otherwise simply had a snug black tank top over which she tossed her light denim green jacket.

While she might be a Starfleet officer, she was an officer for a ship that technically didn't exist, so she couldn't really project her commission while on leave on an Earth station. So she would have to present herself again as a civilian. Thankfully, half a life spent as a smuggler meant that the red-headed Romulan woman was prepared for such eventualities as she stuffed a small wallet into her pants pocket with access to a fairly small private account of Latinum she had collected over the years.

The Federation might not have used money, but most of the rest of the Galaxy did and Dox knew how that game was played. As her new pirate ship's dock fees were paid for for the duration of shore leave, she locked the vessel up and made her way into the massive orbiting station.

When she last saw Schwein and Death, they weren't headed to medical or the turbolifts. They were headed towards the interior plazas where the shops, bars and restaurants were located. So that's where Dox would go to look first.

----------------

It was nearly two hours of walking from bar to bar hoping for a sign of her shipmates before Dox decided that she was likely heading in the wrong direction. Or simply that the station had entirely too many places to drink. But it was out of that frustration that led the tired pilot to finally stop in to one of the bars in the plaza not just to search, but to drink.

It was about half full with an interesting variety of people's from the quadrant. There was a table of Andorians, a lot of humans, one Caitian woman and many more species she was slightly unsure of in the darkness. The lights were dim and the music was hard and Dox figured this was good a place as any to stop for a drink. At each bar she went into, she asked at the bar if anyone had seen Schwein by description to no avail. Of course, she couldn't discount the possibility that some of those bartenders might have been reluctant to answer the questions of a Romulan with a bad attitude.

Still, she found the emptiest section near the end of the bar and sat. A few heads turned as she passed and her acute hearing picked up a few whispers in her direction, but she couldn't be bothered to care anymore. She had dealt with entirely too much emotional garbage in the last few days to absorb so much as a drop more. She was, however, more than ready to absorb a drink or two.

After a few minutes of sitting and watching the activity behind her through the reflection of the mirror behind the bar, the bartender made his way over to her. With all the enthusiasm of someone who hated everything in the universe, the middle-aged, paunchy human nodded in her direction and mumbled. "What'cha want?"

Arching an eyebrow at his attitude, Dox pushed her card forward with two fingers and replied flatly. "Aldebaran whiskey. A double, please."

The bartender took her card, grunted and walked off. Behind her, a few Starfleet cadets began laughing and shoving each other, clearly having enjoyed more than just synthol against regulations. Looking over her shoulder, she smirked lightly remembering her own time in the academy when she was often the cadet other cadets went to break that rule and drink the real stuff. Even back then, she still had contacts from her time as a smuggler and took advantage of it to broker deals between the disreputable for a modest percentage of the profits. After all, that Latinum didn't just materialize in her account.

A minute later, the bartender walked back over with her drink. Dox took it in hand and gestured towards him. "Thanks. Hold on, though. I've been looking for a friend of mine. Leaner woman wearing a long jacket with tassled shoulders. Long, white hair."

He looked at her, glancing at her ear with a suspicious look. She rolled her eyes and she knew that even if Schwein had been in her dancing on the bar, he would likely not say. "Hnave! Really?" She cursed in Romulan, which didn't likely help her trustworthiness.

Quickly, she downed her drink without blinking and plopped the glass down. Holding up two fingers, she pointed them to the glass. She was here to drink and pay for it. She hoped the message was clear.

And it seemed to be, as his demeanor loosened up slightly. "Nah, sorry. I'da seen a lady like that."

She believed him as he took the glass to refill it. It was another failure, but at least it was a productive one.

After another hour of this, Dox had cleaned off the entire bottle of whiskey and moved on to a Klingon Bloodwine. Or at least what this bar tried to sell to rubes as such. The quality was among the worst she had ever sampled, taste-wise, but it was still alcoholic and that was enough for her at that moment. And in spite of the alcohol and the volume of the music, she still heard the drunk human man lumbering up behind her.

Watching him in the mirror, he looked to be a freighter pilot who spent entirely too much time in places like this as he leaned over the bar beside her. "Well, I've been all over this quad and I've never seen a ginger Romulan drink Klingon blood wine."

Dox took a sip, watching through the mirror without turning her head towards the unwelcome lurker. "And now you have. Congratulations." Her tone was flat and sarcastic and she hoped he would get the message and just leave.

Alas, it seemed to spur him on as he leaned in to where she could feel is thick, sticky breath on her neck. Her mind drifted back to the Hera and Mona Gonadie breathing hotly on her neck and the electric shock that sent inside of her. But now all she felt was revulsion.

"So... Maybe I could get you a drink and we could..." But before he could finish, Dox cut him off mid-sentence.

"I can buy my own drinks. Go find someone else that will impress, I'm not interested." Dox's tone was stern and firm as she still hadn't turned to face the man leaning in closer. But before the freighter pilot had a chance to say anything again, he was interrupted by one of the half-drunk cadets.

"Excuse me, Sir. But I believe that the lady said she wasn't interested." The cadet in question was a young, dark-haired and thickly built human. Not overtly intimidating on his own, but backed up by a cluster of uniformed friends, it gave the drunk instigator pause.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. I wasn't interested in the fat bitch anyway." She grunted as he stepped away, incredulously. For her part, Dox simply rolled her eyes and took a drink.

"I apologize if that man was bothering you, miss..." Dox realized that the young cadet was fishing for a name and possibly hitting on her now as well. A thought that sent put a pit of anger in her stomach. This young man wasn't the same smug cadet that took her virginity to check 'Romulan girl's off his checklist of conquests while she was a cadet, but he was close enough.

This time, she turned and stood up, tugging down on her tank top, in the same manner, she would her uniform. "As I told the gentleman, I am not interested. I request you leave it at that unless you'd like the stench of Kali-Fal on your breath reported to Commander Stewart."

The cadet went white as Dox dropped the name of a Commander that she still knew was an administrator at the Academy. She wasn't in uniform and couldn't say what ship she served, but the demeanor was clear to the cadets. She was an officer and they just stepped in it. "Now, go about your business and leave me to mine, and that will be the end of it."

Dox tilted her head to punctuate her statement and the cadets scurried back to their table. Regardless, her 'cover' was blown and it was time to leave this particular bar. So she closed out her tab, significantly poorer and left.

Making her way back to the docks and her ship, Dox felt uncomfortable. She wasn't sure quite why and thought it might be the alcohol getting to her but she had the distinct feeling she was being followed. Her little show for the cadets might have drawn more attention then she wanted, so she decided to test the theory.

Stepping into a small cafe that was opened late, she ordered a large black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin and took a seat in a far corner of the back where she could see anyone coming in or following. And even if she was just imagining things, the coffee and the muffin would help her sober up and avoid a hangover, so it was a win/win.

After about a minute or two of waiting, a tall but equally thick Caitian woman virtually floated in and walked up to the counter. She had a fine coat of dark fur, long, silky black hair that stretched halfway down her back and deep green eyes. She was wearing a short green dress and a three quarters sleeve leather half jacket. From her seat, Dox watched the woman intently over her mug. She was thick in all the places Dox liked and she remembered catching her out of the corner of her eye at the bar when she went in.

After a few moments, the dark-furred woman collected a tall coffee and slowly sauntered back making a beeline to the back, sitting at the table next to Dox's, opposite her.

For a full minute, there was silence as the two sipped their coffee with zero subtly. They were clearly sizing each other up. Dox noticed a low, vibratory hum coming from the woman's table. What Dox could only assume was purring.

"So, you're not wearing a uniform, but your posture back there screamed 'Starfleet' with those children." The Caitian beauty spoke, breaking the silence, though she kept her eyes forward as she did.

"You don't have to be in Starfleet to know how to wrangle a bunch of drunk cadets. How long were you following me?" Dox replied, placing her mug down to look over at the Caitian as she spoke. As she did, the dark woman virtually slid from her table to sit in front of Dox.

"Direct. I like that." The Caitian woman purred. It was obvious she was going for seductive and Dox was not oblivious, nor was she unaffected. But she was also cautious and not about to be caught off guard.

"Not an answer," Dox replied tersely, her dark eyes locked on the deep green eyes of the woman sitting across her. Neither blinked for a moment.

Putting her drink down, the mysterious woman crossed her hands on the table in front of her. "Very well. I had my eyes on you from the minute you walked into the bar if you must know. And..."

But Dox was not in the mood for games and cut her off mid-sentence. "Why?"

With an expression of mock disappointment, the Caitian woman continued, as her lips curled into a grin. "Curiosity... and spare me the obvious joke. I was curious. I've never seen a woman quite like you before. So, I wanted to get to know you better. But I didn't work up the nerve to talk to you before you left, so I thought I'd see where you'd go next. But if that was too forward, I do apologize."

Staring back at the mysterious visitor, Dox tilted her head, somewhat incredulously. Her remarkably poor romantic track record made her immediately suspicious. But she was also still holding out hope that something might develop between herself and Mona Gonadie and wasn't interested in risking that regardless of how attractive she found the Caitian.

She simply wasn't Mona.

"I'll say what I said to the guy in the bar, I'm not interested. And now you know me better." Dox took a sip, coming off possibly a little colder than was probably necessary and added with a light smile. "Though I appreciate the attention."

From behind, the Caitian curled her tail up behind her back as she leaned forward, clearly not giving up. "Well, that man didn't exactly have what you like, did he?"

Clearly, Dox was projecting her sexual preference for women strongly enough but still wanted to shut her down as nicely as possible in spite of feeling herself getting flush and a little warm. "Regardless, I'm spoken for. So thank you, but no thank you."

It was a bit of a lie as, while Mona was aware of Dox's attraction, nothing had happened between the two women. But to Dox's surprise, the Caitian leaned further forward and inhaled deeply through her nose.

Still leaning forward, she kept her eyes locked on Dox's, and began wagging a finger playfully. "Uh uh. No you're not. I don't smell anyone else on you. That flower is currently not being plucked."

At that, Dox felt a rush of conflicting emotions as she could feel the Caitian's warm breath on her face. She was both aroused and angry at the violation of privacy implied in being 'sniffed out'. But at that moment, her anger was bolstered by her feelings for Mona and she pushed past any initial attraction. "That's not your business." Dox hissed.

At which point, the Caitian woman realized she had pushed far too hard and leaned back looking slightly upset now. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That was... that was way too forward. I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

But the damage was done, and Dox was too angry and a little too drunk to be polite or listen to an apology she didn't know if she could believe. Still, the mystery woman tried to pull back as Dox rose from her seat. "Please, I'm sorry. That was wrong. I really just... I'm a little drunk and a little... I'm sorry, I just... I like you."

But Dox was done listening. Her mind was now running with angry, conspiratorial concepts and thoughts. Who was this woman? Did she know Dox was with Starfleet? Did she know Dox was an Artan Baroness? What was it that really prompted this encounter, because Dox couldn't wrap her hurt mind around the idea that the curvy Caitian might be telling the truth? People simply didn't like Mnhei'sahe Dox like that, she thought to herself as she stepped around the table.

With a cold stare, Dox hissed. "Don't follow me again." And she stormed away, walking angrily back to the Khallianen to see if maybe Schwein had returned to the Hera. And likely, to sleep off the buzz she was riding hard.

--------------

Back at the table, the silky Caitian just sat with a sad look on her face, staring at her coffee. Her posture slumped as her formerly active tail lay flat behind her while she let out a sigh. "Idiot. Why would you think someone like that would like you?"

The Amazon rainforest at the end of the twenty fourth century was full of life and had amazing tours through several trails deep into it that were amazing and it was on Mona Gonadie's bucket list to go down one of the longest trails at least once. Not passing up the opportunity, she had spent the past week with a group of six plus a guide hiking along a trail barely wider than the people using it, spotting animals and taking pictures as quietly as possible. At night they camped in portable blinds in trees and for food they ate whatever they could find and supplemented it with the ration packs they brought, making sure to take every last scrap of trash with them on their way out. The bottom line was that if they couldn't carry it with them or find it in the forest, they couldn't use it between the beam in and beam out points, both of which were over fifteen hundred kilometers from the nearest form of civilization.

And while it had been amazing and she had even made a few friends among the trees, most notably several yellow and green parrots and even a few of the monkeys that had gotten curious, the sixty kilometer deep nature hike had ended all too soon for her and soon they were beaming back to the Amazon Preserve Foundation where she could get cleaned up, stay in the hot springs hotel overnight, and peruse the gift shop.

In that gift shop, she found several plush recreations of many of the animals she had seen as well as commemorative plates and spoons and various coins. What really drew her attention though, was a series of bird stands with holo-emitters built into them.

Tapping on one, a Yellow-naped Amazon parrot shimmered to life on it and squawked at her. "Hello hello," it said immediately, cocking it's head and eyeing her.

"Hello there," she replied, rubbing its belly a little. "And how much are you?"

"Twelve strips, twelve strips RAWK!" the holographic bird replied. It wasn't bad, all things considered, and it was inside of her souvenir budget, after all.

Clicking that one off, she studied the others to see if there were other versions of the program. Not finding any others, she shrugged and grabbed two, heading for the checkout where they disabled the demo mode and gave her a comm code for support just in case.

Many people would wonder what a being evolved from a granite face would consider a vacation. Malana would tell these people that it was sitting in one place for a long period of time watching. Watching what? The people. Animals, Seasons. Rocks eroding. The passage of time. Everything.

That was exactly what she was doing now.

She hadn't messed around with hiking or preparations or anything like that.

She was as resolute as the stone she was standing on.

Paying the tour guides to just beam her to the peak of Mount Everest, she wasn't wearing anything more than her normal clothing. They had looked at her like she was crazy, but she had taken a communicator and since she had passed their scans as nothing more than granite, they finally acquiesced to her request and transported her straight up.

Finding a sort of bench-like ledge, she sat down on it and prepared herself. Taking a deep breath, Malana let it out and stopped breathing, entering a meditative state and began watching the whole of this world.

Clouds passed. Day and night passed. Hikers passed and even took their picture with the odd statue that had been added to the peak. Below the frost line she could see trees, animals, lakes... Life flowing from the snow into the lands below. All of this too passed.

In a blur yet in slow motion, time passed for Malana as she watched everything within her view. Stars paused in time, yet streaking across the sky. The sun forever frozen in time, but always on the move, constantly rising and setting at the same time.

Time was meaningless to the young Ashravenan as she just watched.

At the end of two weeks, the communicator in her pocket went off, vibrating at a frequency that only one of her kind would notice. Slowly, she blinked and started to rouse herself from her meditations, ice crystals shattering from her as she began to slowly move.

It took her over an hour to finally snap out of her meditative trance, but finally she was able to start breathing again, stand, and blink normally. Still frozen, she pulled her communicator out of her pocket and activated it, signaling for the base camp that she was ready for a beam out.

For decades she would be known as the miracle of Everest, having spent two weeks meditating on the peak in nothing but a jumpsuit only to come down like she'd spent it in a spring valley.