Arriving on Deck 5, which similarly to Deck 8 on the Hera, was essentially “officer country” where the command crew quarters were located, the two Doxes stepped off of the turbolift as the Victory’s version turned right and began walking. The Hera’s Dox noticed that this version had clearly maintained the martial stride that both women picked up from their many walk-and-talks with Rita Paris, as they arrived at their location. Waiting there, standing with a much larger and clunkier looking PaDD, was a short, lithe Andorian woman waiting with a pleasant smile.

Doing her level best to keep the surprise off of her face, the Hera’s Dox still let her eyes go just a little wide at the sight of a woman who, in spite of the maroon duty jacket and uniform of the era, was the splitting image of Lieutenant Commander Thex, from back on the Hera.

“Lieutenant Commander, I can take it from here.” The strange doppelganger said as she met the twin-Doxes in the narrow corridor, switching her attention to the newcomer, “If you will follow me, I can help get you cleaned up and refreshed a bit, uh, Lieutenant Commander Dox.”

“The Captain is recommending ‘Dox 97’ to simplify things, Tivri. If that helps” The Victory’s Dox said with a light, but tired smile.

“Anyway. Officer’s dining lounge is on Deck 3 in half an hour.” The Victory’s Dox said to her counterpart and the Andorian lieutenant with a weary smile and that same air of casual, well-earned comfort that seemed to be the norm on the Victory. “Thanks, Tivri. Ten hours on shift, I need to freshen up a bit and run a brush through my hair.”

“You… might want to do the same.” She said to her shorter-haired counterpart with a slight grin. She needed a few minutes freedom away from the living, breathing reminder of what could have been her future, but also knew her own mind enough to know that it was a bad idea to leave herself alone with her thoughts. One way to ensure that was in pairing her counterpart with a woman who was, herself, a counterpart from the Hera. A minor mystery would keep that anxious brain busy and occupied, which was likely for the best.

“Meet you then, thank you.” The Victory’s Dox said as she turned and started off down the corridor. As the Victory’s Dox vanished around the bend, the Andorian Lieutenant turned towards the Hera’s Dox and looked her up and down for just a moment.

“My quarters are this way. I don’t think we can get you a new uniform in time since the quartermasters don’t have that pattern on file, but we can at least get it cleaned and pressed for you, and get you a shower. So you’re Dox... another Dox from an alternate universe where our Mnhei’sahe didn’t get thrown back in time?” Tivri, unlike Thex, was a bit more outgoing, and seemed to be trying to chat up the newcomer, to put her at ease by talking about the topic she knew best- herself.

“If you slip up and call me Thex, it’s okay. We’ve had that talk- well, not you and I, but Mnhei’sahe and I have, so I know it’s a little weird for you. But I’m not her- I’m the Communications assistant chief. Although it sounds like this Tivri and I have about the same luck with our love lives,” the little blue girl giggled. It seemed this counterpart to her own friend was also calmer, more at ease with herself and more confident.

As they arrived at the chamber, Dox nodded as she processed everything. It had only been recently, since the Bachelorette party for Schwein Von Alcot, that Thex had begun uncovering the secrets of her own background and learned that she was a clone. And not just a clone, but one of thousands as part of the machinations of some form of dark, elder god beings. It was a controversy that they had just uncovered on the Hera before all of this happened. That meant the specifics of that information weren't things that the Dox that had been living here could only have guessed at or known anything about. “So, you two talked about it. About your doppleganger back in the… future. Where... we came from?”

“What do you know about it?” Dox asked, not wanting to give up information that she wasn’t sure might have negative ramifications.

“I guess she’s just a descendant. Which means that I’ll find a quad and make a youngling someday,” Tivri chirped cheerily. It was as if the idea of reproducing fulfilled her purpose and brought her contentment. Which was a thought that came to mind for some reason to Dox, who in that moment also realized that reproduction was also pretty much the main topic of conversation with Thex more often than not: a factor Dox now knew was a directive built into the clones.

“That makes sense.” Dox said flatly, realizing that Tivri clearly hadn’t put much thought into the coincidence of an identical ancestor over a century removed. But Dox knew enough to not volunteer that information if it wasn’t known here. At least to Tivri herself, who seemed to be somewhat innocent in her demeanor.

Opening the door, the lithe Andorian woman let the officer from another century in and showed her the quarters. Knowing the layout of a refit Constitution class starship, it shouldn’t have been as much of a surprise as it was that the room was so small, but that didn’t stop Dox from being slightly taken aback regardless. But not a bit of that showed on her face as she was quickly remembering everything she had learned during her captivity with the Tal’Shiar regarding controlling what she let be seen on her face.

“Thank you, by the way, for letting me get cleaned up. I do appreciate it.” Dox said as she stood a little awkwardly in the oddly decorated chamber.

“Oh, least I can do for my bestie... sorta. Anyway, I’m out, I have to get back to the bridge. The place is all yours, enjoy!” With that said, Lieutenant Tivri scampered off.

Standing in the small, windowless chamber filled with artifacts of a life unknown to her, it’s occupant simply trusted her there without question. After a moment, the redheaded Romulan began taking off her uniform, tossing it in for laundry before heading to the sonic shower. Now to get ready for dinner on this bizarre ship, where she couldn’t help but begin to understand just how a version of herself could have found a new home.

With this crew, her counterpart seemed so much closer to her than she was with most on the Hera.

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

Stepping into the small quarters she shared with Lieutenant Jessica Valin, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox of the U.S.S. Victory was upset and drained as she pulled the rank markers off of her duty jacket and tossed the jacket on the bed. She could hear Jessica in the sonic shower and smiled for a moment .

“Kreldanni Areinnye..” She muttered to herself, cursing in the native tongue she had to try and avoid using as much as possible these days. In 2286, in order to serve on the Victory, Dox had to make many compromises and one of them was in pretending to be what was called ‘V'tosh ka'tur’. A Vulcan Sans Logic. There was no protocol in place to allow a Romulan to serve in Starfleet yet. So, like her Captain, she had to lie. Pretend to be something she wasn’t.

Unlike so many of her people, Mnhei’sahe Dox was a poor liar.

Sitting down on the bed she shared with her unexpected yet welcome human lover, she looked around the cramped quarters that were tiny compared to the quarters she had inhabited on the Hera. She once again eyed the gridded room dividers and architecture that was more than a little bit like Rita’s office back on the Hera, and definitely reminiscent of the quarters the anachronistic officer had created with the space allotted her. There had been good times and good memories associated with those things, but that wasn’t where her mind now dwelled.

In that moment, her mind was on her old quarters. The quarters she had shared with Mona. The woman who, in another life, had been her wife and bond-mate.

Mona… she thought to herself.

It was a name she tried to not think about. When she initially found herself in the past, she could still feel the energy within her that was a part of her empathic bond with the Miradonian woman she had just wed. But after she woke up in Starfleet Medical, she immediately realized that something had changed. Slowly, she could feel that energy fade from her. Over the course of that first week in the past, that lovely lavender glow she could see in her mind’s eye faded back to her original red aura.

After a week, the somewhat literal piece of Mona she held within her had vanished, in spite of the insistence that it would be a part of her for the rest of their lives. As she struggled to hold onto it, she began to understand what had to have happened. Mona didn’t exist here. She wouldn’t be born for 75 years. But, more importantly, that bond would never be possible to reestablish because of the changes in the timeline that had come to pass by Dox’s insertion into it- a magnificent example of why Starfleet needed a Temporal Prime Directive. For Dox, it had been personally devastating to have what she had incorporated into herself intrinsically to simply fade away.

It was a wound that had at least scarred over, but that scar had been torn open by the arrival of this other Mnhei’sahe Dox. Because while Captain MacGregor had forbade this other her from talking in detail about her life, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Dox could FEEL Mona's energy radiating from her double. Even without touching.

Standing too close to her other self was maddening. It was like agony, and she was sure that Siivas, whose telepathy and empathy were both extremely powerful, could sense it from two decks away. So as soon as she got the opportunity to get a few minutes away from the bitter reminder, who was walking around in the uniform she had to give up for what she wore now, she happily took advantage of it.

Then, as she dwelled on the past and how it was haunting her IN the past, she thought of the sound of the sonic shower, and the woman in it. Guilt began to settle in and gnaw at the Romulan helmsman, as she began running a finger nervously over her pointed ear. She wasn’t being fair to Jessica. Once Dox had realized that there was no going back to her old life, she had done everything in her power to commit to this new life.

Charybdis had taken her under her wing, in much the same way that Rita and Enalia had done on the Hera. Although here on the Victory, Dox found herself being this ship's ‘Rita’. The conscience of Starfleet, keeping the Intel ship on course, morally. The irony was thick enough to cut with a phaser. Siivas taught her how to do more than defend her mind in ways that Sonak hadn’t. And of course, there was Jessica.

Looking around, she took in the mementos she had been collecting since she had joined the Victory. On the far wall, was a Klingon D'k tahg she had won in combat with the Captain of a Bird of Prey the Victory had faced and defeated. Below that, pictures taken with the ship’s crew and with Jessica. On the few, narrow magnetic shelves, sat miniatures she had built of some of the ships of the period, including a recreation of Rita’s old ship, the Exeter. It was the few things she had as a memento of her time on the Hera.

That and the framed photo next to it.

The picture she had obtained from the Starfleet personnel file- it was that of a KIA young officer that had vanished during a transporter accident thirtyish years earlier. A plain-looking young woman in the gold minidress uniform of the day, with an upswept head of long blonde hair. It was the only image of the local reality’s equivalent Lieutenant Rita Paris Dox could secure, and the closest she could come to an image of her friend, mentor and sister she had left behind.

The local version was not quite the bombshell that Dox had known from the Hera, as this was the Rita native to this universe. But the eyes were the same, and that was important for the young Romulan to remember. Those eyes that always looked into the future, to see it as it could and should be. The living embodiment of Starfleet in any universe, and the memory of her still provided the moral compass that still guided Dox.

On the Victory, Dox had refused to do what she had once done on the Hera, keeping her quarters almost completely plain until Mona moved in, but for the few miniatures of starships and family photos.

Sitting there on that bed, Dox couldn’t believe it, but she even missed her mother. She had a picture of A Rita. But nothing of Asa or Enalia. Nothing of Ila Dedjoy or Mona or the Hera. Nothing of Jaeih Dox, the authoritarian woman that had been more a commanding officer than a mother. The woman she had finally began to mend her relationship with before being pulled apart. She missed them all, and seeing this other version of herself opened up that wound she had worked so hard to heal.

Getting up, Dox walked over to the small closet the two women shared and slid open the door to pull out a fresh duty jacket and a small box buried in the back of the top shelf behind some of Jessica’s things. It was a small black box containing a very specific personal item that was important to her. One of the only things she had on her that Admiral Jones had allowed her to keep when she arrived in this timeline after it had been throughly studied: Her old commbadge.

Taking it out of the box, she rubbed her finger along the raised, silver delta, and over the two gold towers that backed it. Staring at it with a longing look on her face. Then, eyeing her reflection in the metal mirror mounted to the bulkhead, she looked down at her chest and the Starfleet badge upon it. The badge of the current era, that had been a century old when she was born.

Would be born. Most likely.

But it was the Starfleet that had given her back a career on faith, when it could have just as well locked her up as a spy. The Starfleet that accepted a woman lost in time, with no place else to go, giving her a new purpose, and a new future. The Starfleet that Rita Paris had spoken of with that impossible pride and unwavering commitment. For weal or woe, this was her Starfleet now, her reality, and the badge in her hand was nothing more than a memory of her past.

With the visitation from her life not led, she realized she didn’t want to dwell on that past any longer.

Stuffing the old and yet future badge in her pocket, she took a breath. In most respects, she was to the Victory what Rita Paris had been on the Hera, in more ways than one. She had found a new home here- no, she had built a new life here. She had made new friends on the Victory, and she wasn’t going to let the reminder of what might have been ruin what she had worked so hard to build. The future was a backwards step for the conflicted young Romulan. But she was also committed to being a part of this new present. This was her home now, and she wasn’t going to let the idea of what might have been ruin that.

Stepping across the relatively small quarters to the refresher area, Dox took a breath and smiled. She thought of what she did have, and not just what she had lost as the sonic shower cut off. Stepping into the small room, she looked in through the frosted door at the tall, broad-shouldered woman that she had come to love in this unusual situation. She looked at her dark brown mane of hair and the body that, being human, was always a bit cool to the touch for the hot-blooded Romulan woman.

“Hey.” Dox said, so Jessica would know she was there.

“Hey,” came the soft-spoken reply. About the ship and on duty, Valin spoke in clear tones of command, as she’d been taught as an officer. But with her redheaded lover, behind closed doors, she could be soft-spoken, and usually chose to be. They had argued, as all couples did. But for the most part, the tactician from Titan tended to allow herself to be vulnerable and feminine when it was just the two of them, which Dox found endearing. It had taken considerable time and trust for the two of them to overcome their initial dislike of one another, and their misunderstanding of just who the other person was in reality.

Being from the future, or A future more accurately, Dox was even more guarded than she had once been, which made it hard to get close to her. While Valin had not been interested in women until Dox, with whom quarreling and arguing had finally given way to a night of passion, and since then, she had been tentative and cautious about their relationship. But she had still dedicated herself to it bit by bit, until the two were inseparable at this point.

Jess and Minnie, interspecies romance.

Looking down at the considerably shorter and stouter pilot, the navigator whose position involved only handling the tactical systems, in an innovation Captain Charybdis had put forth on her bridge, was hesitant, and she didn’t say anything. That, of course, meant that she was anxious about something-likely everything that had been running through her lover’s mind. It also meant that she wanted to help, to comfort, to somehow make the situation better, but did not know how. They were traits that were easy for Dox to read and understand, having herself been anxiety riddled for much of her life. But only behind closed doors did Jess show her vulnerable side, and only to her Minnie, whom she trusted more than she wished she did.

Silently moving into the taller athletic woman’s personal space, Dox offered comfort in exactly the manner she knew her partner needed- a long, silent hug. Valin was a hugger, and tended to be deeply comforted by the action. Which was why Dox held her in silence, until the tall woman spoke.

“She dredged up everything about your old life, didn’t she? About your wife and your old ship. Why did Char make you play tour guide for her? It’s not fair. I don’t.... I don’t like this.” Jessica was also not the best in the universe at articulating her feelings- another trait Dox knew well.

“The second she appeared here, that was pretty much inevitable. That... seeing her like I did on the bridge, would automatically have me pulling all of that back up.” Dox said, reaching up to gently rub the back of Valin’s neck as she spoke. “At least this way, It’s not just… me running around in my own head, punishing myself. Maybe Char is thinking that I can get some closure this way.”

“After all, how often does one get the chance to yell at themselves for real?” the shorter red-head said with a light smile as she looked up into her lover’s big brown eyes.

“But… do you know what I keep thinking about in all of this, Jessica?” Dox asked, her generally raspy voice as soft and delicate as she could get it as she looked up at Jessica. “I keep thinking about… how no matter what happened in her life, that’s her life. And this… here. On the Victory, with you is mine. This is where I’m meant to be, and I’m happy.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna throw me over in some wild attempt to get back to the future?” Jess asked, half-jokingly. Only half, because of course, that’s exactly what she was afraid of. While Mona had been telepathic, to which Dox had been receptive, Valin was just humanoid, and possessed zero telepathic potential. Thus it was up to Mnhei’sahe to figure out what she was thinking and feeling. Which had been challenging, but in truth, rewarding. It made her work harder at the relationship, and she enjoyed the challenge of puzzling out the big girl’s thoughts and emotions.

Taking her hands and reaching up to cup the much taller woman’s face gently, Dox looked up with a smile, “I know you’re scared, e'lev. I know that this is just as hard for you, in a way, as it is for me. I also know that this… what we have… hasn’t always been easy. But that’s why it’s what I need. What I want. Why you’re who I want. We worked our asses off to find each other. We both had to overcome so much to let the other in. I’m not letting that go. I promise that.”

“She has her life. I have mine. I have you, and you have me.” Dox said, resting her warm face against Valin’s chest. “You’re stuck with me. Like it or not.”

“As long as you don’t work ALL your ass off,” the taller woman joked, reaching over Dox’s body to grasp her ample rump in both hands and give it a playful pat. Still shy about expressing her needs and desires in a lesbian relationship, Valin had made great strides to be able to make such a joke, and it was still hard for her. But she loved the little Romulan redhead, and treasured her, so she tried hard to be more of what she thought the other desired in a partner- at least, when it was just them.

Smiling and chuckling lightly, Dox knew that such expressions had been difficult for her partner, and she always tried to encourage simply through showing her appreciation, rather than any kind of direct leading. “This ass is as here to stay, as is the rest of me.”

After a moment, she stepped back slightly and grabbed a brush from the counter in front of their shared mirror. She hadn’t been joking about needing to freshen up and sighed lightly. “I feel like she added five years to my face just stressing out. I look like hnaev.”

Looking at herself in the mirror, there was even more that separated the two women. Where the Hera’s Dox was largely apathetic to her appearance and didn’t quite know how to feel about it, this Mnhei’sahe Dox had begun embracing her femininity over time. Maybe it was her relationship. Maybe it was her trying to distance herself from who she had been, but it had become true nonetheless. Her thick, curly red hair was much longer here and she spent a considerably longer amount of time styling it on the regular.

She preened slightly in the mirror, fluffing her hair out a bit, catching Valin’s eyes in the mirror as the taller woman stood behind her. Stepping over, she delicately removed the brush from the redhead’s hands and began brushing her bright red hair - an act of devotion that Jess knew her partner enjoyed.

“You look fine, birdie. Don’t worry about it. You’re prettier than she is by a Saturn ring,” the tall tactician said in a soothing voice, trying to offer reassurance. It wasn’t her strong suit, but she gave it a try all the same.

The short, thickly built redhead reached her arm behind her to place it gently on Valin’s own as the wide-shouldered, tall human continued to brush through Dox’s wavy curls. The Romulan pilot had her hair lengthened for the undercover assignment to stop Davo Mudd a year ago, and while the Dox that returned to the Hera had her hair cut short upon her return, this Dox chose to keep the longer hair, and had done so since.

“That’s sweet, but c’mon. We’re identical. Except...” Dox replied, her voice almost a purr of contentment as she half-heartedly tried disagreeing. But even there, looking in that mirror, Dox could see that it wasn’t completely true. Both women might technically be the same person from two divergent timelines, but there were many subtle changes over that year, and not just in the hair length.

It was clear to Dox that her counterpart had kept up with all of her intense physical training on the Hera. On the Victory, Dox kept herself in shape. She ran the corridors in the mornings with Valin. She trained with the ship's security to keep herself sharp. But the intense drive literally beaten into her by Jaeih Dox had softened, along with the rest of her.

On the Victory, she had more to be concerned with than combat training. The Victory focused far less on sword fighting and much more on winning with their brains. And learning duotronics instead of isolinear systems, along with the technical requirements of a ship from a different era kept this Dox focused much more on her career and her mind, rather than on her body.

She was still a skilled fighter and in much better shape than her pudgy, stout frame showed. But she was a little softer and rounder than her counterpart from the future. And, in point of fact, there was another noticeable difference between the two.

“It… doesn’t look like she smiles much, does it, Jessica?” Dox asked, a hint of sadness in her voice.

“I’d like to argue with you, babe, but you’re right,” the skilled and nimble fingers of the middle-class girl from Titan worked through the hair of the Romulan woman, the thick curls weaving into deliberate and stylish braids. “ Looks like maybe you were the one who hit the jackpot, huh?”

“On many, many levels. But none as important as you, Jessica.” Dox said, smiling broadly as she looked into her partner’s eyes through the mirror. The words came easily to her and truthfully from her heart. While she still missed much from her life on the Hera, and would always love Mona, it was different from what she had found on the Victory. In a time before she was ever to exist, the lost girl from Romulus found a true home and a very different kind of love.

A love she was going to hold on to tightly, and not let the shadow of a life unlived damage it.

Leaning down, the taller woman wrapped her arm protectively about the portly pilot, nuzzling her neck, using her chin to brush aside the crimson mane and breathe hot breath on her hot-blooded lover’s pointed ear.

“How long do we have until we have to be there...we could be fashionably late and Char will just smirk at us...?” Valin whispered, her lips brushing the sensitive tapered earlobes of her lover, her breath tingling inside Dox’s ear.

They would definitely be late.

To Be Continued…

Running through the cavernous grand hall of the God Emperor’s palace, the middle aged woman had a bit too much gray in her hair for her age and a few too many age lines for someone who rarely suffered under the beating sun of the city. In truth, on most days, hers was a job that rarely gave her a reason to run.

But today was not an ordinary day. Holding up the hem of her long, orange green and gold robes off of the edge of the polished marble floor, her breath was heavy and beads of sweat ran down her brow. While it was always hot on Kathoom, even in the halls of the great palace, the sweat came instead from anxiety.

As she reached the tall double doors to the conference room of the God Emperor of Kathoom, who ruled all he saw from on high as the voice of the Ritaris and the teller or the will of Fedra’shuun, she stopped to catch her breath and adjust her robes of office. Even in a crisis, it would not do for the Royal advisor… the Hand of the God Emperor… to be seen in such a haggard state.

Pulling open the great door, the hinges that still needed oil on them creaked, a piercing sound that echoed through the great rotunda of the conference room. In the center, was a triangular table that, from above, was the familiar shape of a Starfleet Delta. Around the perimeter of the table were 6 men in robes, all looking at the man in the large, gilded chair sitting atop a raised dias at the end of the point of the table.

Leaning with a dull, irritated expression was a somewhat young man, looking to be no older than maybe twenty five by Human standards. He wore ornate red and gold robes with a shorn head that was a deep maroon color. On his brow, a golden band that had a carved jade Delta in it’s center.

Looking at the doors that had just opened, the young man, now known by no name other than the God Emperor of All Kathoom scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What is it, Aunt N'Ryssa? Have I not given instructions that I am not to be disturbed when speaking with the heads of the commerce guilds?”

His voice was shrill and petulant as he leaned heavily upon the word ‘aunt’, reminding the woman named N'Ryssa of her place. He regularly refused to refer to her by her official title of ‘Emperor’s Hand’, a childish affectation he used to protest at the position his mother, the former God Empress, had appointed her sister to help guide the young man. It was clear that he resented having an advisor, but preferred to embarrass her, as even the God Emperor had to consult the council of the sun to fire an advisor appointed to her position by a past ruler.

On Kathoom, the only law an Emperor or Empress could not defy was the laws of the past Emperors. For that, it took a unanimous vote of the council of the sun: the Priests of the Ritaris. And the Priests of Ritaris liked their petulant Emperor to be off guard. So, N'Ryssa remained his Hand, much to his irritation.

“You have so decreed, my Emperor. However, there are situations dire enough to merit an interruption, and as your advisor, it is to me to decide what those are.” N'Ryssa said as she walked past the older, robed men in their seats. “Gentlemen, the God Emperor has other business more pressing to attend to. I suggest you take your leave of us now. The guards will escort you to safety.”

At the table, there was much harumphing and muttering of angry, rich men not used to being told what to do, but N'Ryssa was used to being obeyed and she snapped her narrow gaze at the main doors, where a dozen guards stamped their pikes upon the marble floor to make their presence known. “Perhaps I should change the word ‘suggest’ to something more clear. Leave us, NOW. The God Emperor has more important matters to attend to than your mongering of wealth.”

Quickly, the guards rushed the robed men out the doors, leaving the two alone. Standing up in a huff, the young ruler was redder than normal, his face twisted in a scowl. “How DARE you make me look a fool in front of the guild members, Aunt…”

“Quiet, young one. While I know how you feel about me and my position here, this is NOT about me. You must calm yourself and hear me.” N'Ryssa said, trying to change her tone to a more familial one, which served to only anger him more as her stomped down from his throne, finger jutting towards her.

“Law or no, I have had enough of this, I am the GOD EMPER….” He shouted, before she cut him off with a stronger voice.

“THE RITARIS IS HERE, C’DIOS!! Here, now, in this city! She stands, reborn with what looks to be near half the peasantry of the city behind her and she is at the gates NOW to speak to YOU!” N'Ryssa snapped, using the given name that was abandoned when one took the throne.

At her words, he blanched slightly, and his eyes widened.

“The… the Ritaris!? Impossible. She was… just a myth! A story meant to frighten children,” The God Emperor said, the anger in his voice, replaced by uncertainty.

“That story is walking this way, right now. The guards reported that she waved her hand and cut through a ten foot thick wall. Every guard she encounters lowers their pikes and JOINS her.” N'Ryssa said sternly, adjusting her robes. “You should not be here, young one. You are the God Emperor. You should make haste to the bunker, where it is safe.”

“What!? No, I must show strength, let the people…” Her replied, but was cut off again as she raised a hand, and two guards from the hall stepped up to her.

“Magistrates. Escort the God Emperor to safety. The lower hold… with the guild members… until it is declared safe. No harm must befall him, understood.”

“Understood, Hand.” The guards responded and stepped around their ruler, whose eyes narrowed as he hissed at her.

“This… this is a COUP! There is no RiTARis! This is you! Guards, obey ME! Take HER to the palace hold! NOW!!!” The God Emperor raged, pointing at his aunt, who didn’t waver.

But the guards simply took him by the arms and began walking him to the rear of the room as he struggled against their grip.

“This order to protect you came from the Council of the Sun, C’Dios.” N'Ryssa said coldly. “Obey it and you will sit upon that throne when this matter is resolved.”

“TRAITORRRR!!!! This will NOT stand!!!!” He shrieked as the guards opened a hidden door in the rear of the chamber and closed it behind them. As they did, more guards from the door stepped up to N'Ryssa.

“My Hand, what are your orders? Reports from the wall say the Ritaris has breached the inner ring of the city. She is at the foot of the great palace.” The head Magistrate said with a salute as she turned and stood in front of the now empty throne.

“Deploy the Thunder battalions. I want three Phalanxes at the perimeter of the palace. I want a full deployment of our finest archers on the battlements. That woman is no GODDESS! She is a pretender from the Deadlands, playing on ancient superstitions, and I would have words with her. Drive back her followers, take her into custody, and bring her before me.”

With a salute, the head Magistrate barked back, “It is the Way, My Hand.” and turned back to the large, ornate doors of the room.

Alone for the moment, N'Ryssa sunk her shoulders a bit and exhaled. She had a lot of work to do in a very short time.

Her day of destiny, it seemed, had arrived.

As the section of the inner wall fell in, Rita got her first look at the center of the massive city. The outer rim’s slums were, in many respects, an assault on the Starfleet officer’s senses. There was filth in the streets and the sights, sounds and smells of decay and rot. The second ring was far more orderly, but in that order was even clearer signs of the oppression the people had been living under. But here, in the innermost perimeter, were the sights that were perhaps the most offensive to her eyes.

Along the interior of the great, 30 meter tall inner wall, the aqueducts flowed in towards the center of the great palace, but here they opened up, allowing the life-giving architecture to work itself into a lip on the wall that created a massive waterfall effect that flowed along the entire interior of the wall.

Looking around, countless gallons of water were being wasted in what amounted to an ostentatious display of wealth used as a rich person’s meaningless water feature. Pouring down into a shallow fountain basin that ran along the inside of the wall, for no reason other than aesthetics.

Stepping through, the entourage of what was now a few thousand huddled citizens mixed in with converted Magistrates, factory and farm workers, kept tightly behind Rita. They all collected closely in what was the freshy carved 10 meter wide archway she had cut in the wall with her phaser. Looking around, the difference between the squalor of the slums and the agricultural ring stood in stark contrast to the opulence before them.

Around them, were rings of shorter, marble walled buildings with smooth, flowing lines and clean, well-kept streets. Windows held shining glass in them, and the walls were a bright, clean alabaster that shone in the sun.

As they were standing next to what was once the main gate, an extremely broad road lead directly towards the massive, multi-tiered palace. The aqueducts lead directly into the base of the tall walls at the exterior, flanking the great marble steps to the doors of the halls of power on Kathoom. Flowing up from the street almost organically, the palace and almost all of the inner city of Konaar seemed designed with a distinctive, Art Nouveau style. Sweeping arcs and curves of golden filigree and turquoise capped rooftops felt like a slap in the face to the Starfleet officer witnessing the heights of the disparity on the world that worshiped her.

Looking up, Rita Paris saw clearly the sight she had seen from afar, before she had even reached the city. Which only served to anger her the most in the moment. At the top of the tallest spire of the great palace that looked like it could comfortably house thousands, but likely only catered to the comforts of a select few, was a 25 meter tall, gilded statue. A stature of HER.

The likeness wasn’t perfect, of course. Thousands of years had elapsed here on Kathoom from the last time she had been here, but it was still clearly her. The woman who, long ago, had liberated the people and led a revolution. The Ritaris. Rita Paris, herself, almost felt sick for the comparison.

There was little time for such concerns, as the sounds of boots falling on stone in synchronized marching could be heard echoing to where she and her band of faithful followers stood on the interior of the holding wall. Looking down the path, Rita could see dozens of armored soldiers with shields and swords at the ready, forming a skirmishing line midway between them and the palace.

Along the outermost wall of the palace itself, between them and the palace itself, row upon row of archers took their position along the battlements. The city’s defenses were being brought to bear for a single woman and the hungry, tired people who followed her.

Leaning in, the second gate Magistrate named M’Raan, who had abandoned his own weapon to follow Rita, spoke as they watched a group of guards in dark gray armor, wrapped in blue robes, step to the head of the phalanx and kneel. In front of them, they placed what appeared to be some kind of portable cannons, not unlike a mix between a bazooka and a mortar canon.

“The Thunder Battalions…” He muttered to Rita. “Their power is… is terrible, Great Ritaris.”

Turning to address the crowd, Rita spoke loudly and clearly. “The God-Emperor fears the people he was sworn to serve and protect. He brings violence to bear upon you, because he fears your voice. These are not the actions of a ruler, but a tyrant. We will not have it!” Speaking to the Magistrates, she issued quick orders.

“I will deal with this, but I need you to keep the people back. There will be a moment when the time is right to come forward, and you will know. Until then, I will do my best to defend these people... but I need your help. Will you stand and defend, as was ever your purpose?” It was an order, but true to form, Rita Paris made it not only a question, but a request. A call to duty to the Magistrates who had seen the light, dropped their weapons and joined the groundswell movement she was once again beginning on the harsh desert world.

Behind her stood M’Raan and C’Ress, along with another dozen or so Magistrates that joined them all in the middle ring of the city. All of them looked frightened for a moment as M’Raan looked back at the people that they had been trained to keep out of the city. The people they had sworn to protect while being trained to defend against for years. And only now, was the hypocrisy of that becoming apparent.

There were swirling emotions in all of the former soldiers who had laid down their weapons, but their conflict was short-lived. Turning to his counterpart who had dreamt of greatness in battle, M’Raan nodded. “How’s this for high adventure, friend?”

“This…” C’Ress replied with a smile… “This… will be something to finally be proud of.”

Then, the younger man turned to Rita with determination on his face. “We will, Great Ritaris. On our lives, if necessary, we will fulfill our oaths at last.”

Turning to the other magistrates, C’Ress was a man possessed and his voice was stronger. “Magistrates of the people. No harm is to befall any in our charge! Our purpose is defense. Shields at the ready.” As he spoke, he pulled a flap off of the back of his armored chest plate and unfolded it. Tucking his arms into the straps, it was a crude leather shield with simple metal plates sewed in, but it would serve.

“Form a defensive line. Nothing gets past us! THIS IS THE WAY!” He called back, as the Magistrates that now served Rita Paris’ cause spread out, forming a semi circle in front of the people, shields up at the ready. As they did, they all stomped their feet in unison once and repeated the chant. “‘THIS IS THE WAY!”

“You make me all very, very proud,” Rita declared before turning back to the Thunder Battalions and the archers. Amplifying her voice through her EVA armor’s speakers, it boomed out forward from her, so as not to deafen those behind.

“My name is Rita Paris,” her voice boomed out impossibly, echoing off the stone rotunda of the inner ring of the city.” I’m Starfleet. I represent the United Federation of Planets. I came here many, many years ago, and I helped your people liberate themselves from the Masters, the slavers who pitted one against the other, all for their own benefit and entertainment. We brought them down, to build a better society. One where all would be free, all would be equal, and water and food would be shared by all.”

“This is NOT what we fought for. This is NOT the way of my teachings,” she emphasized. While she refused to address scripture or any specifics of their religion, as the wellspring of the ideas inherent within them, she was confident about what she had taught the ancestors of the people here today. “This is stealing from all, to benefit a few; and it ends today. I do not wish for there to be violence, for that is not the way.”

“But I have returned, and it is time for you to amend your ways. It is time to be better. I give you this opportunity to stand down, and to see reason,” she explained, speaking to the archers and the Thunderers as if she were addressing them individually. For in truth, each of them had their own mind and conscience, and if their hearts were not hardened by greed or hatred, they would hear her. “You know ruling over these people and hoarding all of this resource for a privileged few is wrong. Search your hearts, and look at these people. We are all people, we are all worthy, and we are all equal in my eyes. Lay down your arms and see the light, I implore you. Follow your hearts, and do not harm your neighbors, but help them.”

There was a long moment when her voice echoed across the pristine plaza until only the sound of the rushing waterfalls remained. Across the distance, it was impossible for normal eyes to see, but with the heads up display augmenting displaying the sensor readouts, Rita could see indecision beginning to take root. Battle trained soldiers looked fidgety and nervous. To them, she was GOD. And God was telling them to stand down.

But they were also soldiers trained to obey orders, and stepping up to the side of the first kneeling line known as the Thunder Battalion, the battlefield commander unsheathed his sword. His face was covered by a golden mask mimicking a calm, strong face that his own beneath did not match as he shouted to his men. “First battalion. Prepare to fire. Archers, on my mark.”

Hesitantly, the soldiers lowered the business ends of their antiquated mortar canons as the battlefield commander aimed his sword across the field at Rita. “I Implore you, false god… she who would deceive these people with your lies of divinity… stand down NOW. Or lead those good people to their doom!”

“You would fire on unarmed helpless people, merely to assert that divinity I have not claimed is false?” Rita called back, incredulity in her voice. Without awaiting a reply, she leapt, high into the air, higher than any mortal being could, bridging the distance between them rather spectacularly. Then she drifted down, alighting on the earth once more, there on the street before the commander of the Thunder Battalion.

“If you wish to kill me, then you may try your hand. But I will NOT have you threatening innocent lives merely to ‘follow orders’. You want me dead, do it yourself. Or... recognize whose side you are on in this moment in history, and stand down.” A wry smile settled on the golden-clad avenger’s face. “History has a way of painting these things, and don’t imagine for a second that your choices here and now will not echo for eternity.”

Her hands held no weapon, although her gleaming gold and black armor was somewhat formidable, as was her height and her mass. Her words were still those of a parent attempting to convince a child to make the right choice, and still, she offered the open hand to the Thunder Battalion Commander. There was no fear in her eyes, nor in her voice. She did not plead with him as she had others- but then, others had not been willing to fire upon the citizenry with mortars.

“READY!” the commander called to his men, as the brows of Rita Paris came down.

“This is NOT the way,” she stated plainly.

“AIM!” he continued, and she strode purposefully toward him, stopping a mere meter’s distance apart from him.

“If you attempt to give voice to that command, it will be the last command you ever try to give,” the woman promised as she flicked her wrist, and an archaicType 2 phaser appeared in her right hand, which she then pointed at the Commandant.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” the Starfleet savior declared.

Some 50 meters behind them, the liberated Magistrates held their shields high in anticipation of a rain of iron and arrows, sweat dripping down their brows as they all but held their breath.

Standing, his sword still raised at Rita, looking down the business end of a weapon more powerful than he could comprehend, the battlefield Commander swallowed dry as his mind raced. This cannot be the Ritaris! It is impossible! I must fulfill my duty! I must protect the city… from…

Gnashing his teeth behind the still facemask he wore as part of his helmet, his voice was broken and weak as he raised his sword above his head. “F….”

As the word began to escape his dry lips, another echoed across the plaza from the top of the steps of the Great Palace. HOLD!!!!!

At the strong and commanding voice, the troops locked up, freezing in place. All but one, who in his overwhelming anxiety, pulled the firing mechanism of his mortar. There was a single thunderous boom that caused the crowd of onlookers to gasp in horror as, with a flash of gunpowder and a plume of black smoke.

Lobbing high into the air, the single iron ball flew up high, and as it reached its zenith, vanished in a stream of golden light. A phaser beam set on its widest setting from Rita Paris, averting disaster for all to see.

The nervous soldier fell backwards in shock at his mistake. At what might have happened but for the impossible golden clad woman standing there. “She…. she IS the Ritaris…” He muttered as others among the troops joined in.

From the steps, came a calm older woman’s voice. “Indeed. Truly we are blessed this day.” Stepping down the stairs, was N'Ryssa. Her aides robes exchanged for the robes of a God Emperor. Flowing red and gold silks and finery. On her brow, she wore her nephew’s Starfleet Delta crown. On her wrists, the true mark of the God Emperor: the sun and moon bracers, identical to the ones Rita wore.

“Let us not mar this event with any further violence.” N'Ryssa said, putting her hand on the Commander’s trembling shoulder. “This is a day of Glory, Great Ritaris. One I would be honored to share with you if you would speak with me within the palace. It’s clear we have much to discuss… to safeguard our people and their futures.”

Her lined face had a smile upon it, but that smile hid something beneath that Rita could clearly see through those eyes. The sugary words were a threat to the onlookers, and the lies were unctuous and came naturally. This was an elite, someone accustomed to privilege, who firmly believed it was owed to them..

“YOU are the God Emperor? YOU are responsible for the plight of these people? The crushing poverty, the deep inequality, the slavery you have instituted in my name? This is all YOUR doing?” When Rita Paris spoke, her voice was still amplified. This was theater, and it required all to be able to hear what was said. This was not the dry Coliseum, with the blood of her friends in the dirt and the cheering crowds. Yet in it’s own way, it was just as dangerous- and barbaric.

Because Rita knew this woman, on many worlds, in many guises. A backroom deal to be struck. Some quid pro quo. Everyone wins, and those peasants needn’t be a concern, a small concession and they would return to their lives of labor once more, the status quo preserved.

Which was absolutely not going to happen. The woman had no idea how badly she had miscalculated, but she had just painted a very, VERY large target on herself. The robes and accoutrements of office did not lend her gravitas- only responsibility for all Rita Paris had witnessed on this harsh, dry world.

“I am responsible for a great many things, oh wise Ritaris. My decisions have kept the populace safe as my sister did before me, and our Father before her back through the many, many centuries since you last chose to visit us.” N'Ryssa replied, a thin smile on her lips and narrow eyes taking in the woman in front of her.

“Safe? I think not,” Rita snarled, letting the woman continue.

“The weight of that responsibility has fallen to us for all of the time that you were not here.” She continued, a bit of edge in her voice now. “All that time we fended for ourselves in the wastelands, working to build this city. Working to best support the rim villages that spot the great deserts and protect them from the beasts of the deadlands and the great city-states across the mountains that would take all that the people have worked to preserve.”

“I am the God Empress that has been here for her people. That is here and will be here when you vanish again. Where have you been?” N'Ryssa glared, her voice rising and echoing through the city.

“Trusting you to treat one another fairly, as one does with children when one has devoted her life to them,” Rita responded. “I taught my lessons, then I left you to embrace them. This is what you felt was the way? To hoard the water from all of the outlying villages, to bring it all here to the city, and for what? To starve the populace and parch them with thirst while you let the life-giving waters cascade here for your own entertainment?”

“While you make them grow the food they are not allowed to eat? While you hoard the wealth of a world here for yourself, and those you deem worthy? You make me sick,” Rita spat, literally, on the ground- the wasting of precious fluids was the highest insult on Kathoom last time she’d been here, and she suspected having your savior denounce and literally spit upon your words might have some effect.

“Where I have been is not your concern. I taught my lessons and they should have been sufficient, Yet here I am, and while the people can see through your lies, you cannot. I wonder how well you would fare in the wastelands, having to live as you have condemned these people? If the life-giving waters were denied you... after all, you certainly do not look as though you have known thirst nor hunger in all your days,” Rita mentions. Fat shaming was wrong, but pointing out that the rather pudgy matron who was trying to outmaneuver her was clearly not suffering certainly drove home her point.

“I left a council in charge, of seven, who would represent the people,” Rita declared, as she had read in the tomb of the Rita who had never escaped this world.”You wanted a figurehead, a god-emperor, which was never my wish. The people should govern themselves, and be represented fairly. You lie and twist religion into a tool of fear to cow the populace. Which works well unless someone happens to come back and see what has been done in her name, and is MOST displeased.”

“And that we should be concerned with?” N'Ryssa said with a scoff. “What will you do? Deliver a mighty lecture and vanish again, leaving with all your great power? Never once returning to see your council of seven break up into feudal clans arguing over every resource until there were none? Did you return to end the wars of the deadlands that all but destroyed this civilization as the city states splintered off, all with a different way they were convinced was YOUR way? Were you here with the fire from your hands to stop the Warlords of the North from sacking the villages and demanding their tribute to keep us from more war and death?”

“No. I think the people would have remembered that.” she said through curled lips. “So what now will you do? Make more decrees and leave us to obey your words with nothing but promises and platitudes? I and those before me have done everything we could to keep our civilization alive, and you dare judge us for not being you?”

“You speak as though YOU did all of those things,” Rita observed, unwilling to be confounded by bureaucracy and the lies that religion told itself to comfort itself. “So, did YOU wall off the inner city to keep all these people in crushing poverty? I suppose YOU did. I suppose YOU are the one who called for troops to be deployed against your peaceful people. You wear the crown, and here they all are, Thunderers and archers all armed for war against peaceful citizens. So I suppose if the walking talking symbol of divine authority has to listen to doubletalk, lies and blame from the God Emperor, then I suppose you can fix it all, right here and now? Clearly you have been working your fingers to the bone to help all of these people. Cleeeeearly.”

As she spoke, Rita’s armor sensors were calculating the stress points in the wall to accomplish what she was after. It was clear that words would not sway the woman, but Rita was more than prepared to back up her words with actions.

Leaning in, Rita said the words quietly, but amplified as they were, they were clear to all. “You’re so great, fix the problem you have shown no interest in for clearly a very long time. Here’s your chance. Show me.”

Looking at Rita, N'Ryssa realized that half the eyes of the great city were watching her. In her wildest imagination, she hadn’t believed the words from her magistrates that the invader was, indeed, the Ritaris returned, and she was attempting to argue with a god. A god she had helped reinforce the divine right among the people. A god whose authority she was attempting to undercut even as she fought to preserve her position, which was rapidly crumbling beneath her.

Changing course as she tried to work through the rapidly deteriorating situation, N'Ryssa bowed slightly as she replied. “What I have done, Is work to maintain the peace. Maintain the security of those that would threaten the people. Our walls were being breached by fire unlike anything but what is spoke of in legend, so I deployed our cities finest soldiers in its defense.”

“There are threats beyond these walls that pikes and cannon fire can only slow, Great Ritaris.” N'Ryssa said, a softer voice now. “I built not these walls. It was not I that ended the wars of the past. It is only I that have inherited those responsibilities to maintaining the peace and security of the people of Kathoom.”

As she had wrested the throne from her nephew earlier that day, she saw it being pulled from her own grasp just as easily and nervously, she adjusted the sleeve of her robe where those bracers that served no purpose for anyone for millenia, felt heavier than she could have imagined. She could double down and keep arguing, but she had also seen the power the woman before her wielded, and she now feared unleashing it should she push too far.

“Our problems are many, Great Ritaris.” N'Ryssa said, raising her hands above her head, in what seemed to be an act of contrition, betrayed as the sensors of the EVA suit picked up the sound of tightening bowstrings immediately after the hand gesture had been made, “I can only help lead the people. Yours is the way… can you show us?”

“As a matter of fact, I can,” Rita Paris replied, and with a flick of the wrist, the type 2 phaser she was carrying vanished. Then, in its place materialized a Type 3 phaser rifle. Adjusting the settings, Rita turned to regard the people.

“Water is life, and it is a right of all. We help our neighbors and uplift one another- we do not give up our lives to serve the church, nor serve the vanity of one person. WATER FOR ALL!” she declared, then shouldered the phaser rifle, and fired low at the wall, below the waterline..

The sensors had showed her where the holes needed to be punched in the walls, as they indicated where the sluiceways had once flowed to all three circles of the city. Sluiceways that had been sealed centuries ago, which she now took it upon herself to reopen. The waterways were still there, converted to roads long ago. There would be some chaos and some livelihoods would likely be washed away, but it was a small price to pay.

Firing a rather protracted burst from the phaser rifle, she shot out a hole through the wall, allowing the precious waters to flow to the rest of the city. Pivoting, she fired again, then again, before bounding into the air like an improbable golden grasshopper, to gain firing resolutions to continue holing the basin which collected the waters here, freeing them to flow to the rest of the city.

The group of citizens that were collected in the archway that Rita had cut gasped in shock watching their goddess work her miracles again. Some covered their ears as the great wall burst where Rita had fired. From the steps of the great palace, N'Ryssa watched, realizing that nothing in the arsenal at her disposal could even hope to match the display of power before her. As Rita finished her last blast, the new God Empress brought her hand up again and lowered her fingers slowly and the archers, who had been attempting to follow Rita’s frenetic leaps, lowered their bows.

Half of them, at least, as the other half had already done so as they watched in awe. From across the city and miles around, cheers could be heard echoing. It was a sound that did not sit well with N'Ryssa, who took a breath, trying to work out her next step in her head.

“Water for all, indeed,” she said, with a raised brow and slightly pursed lips as the great, ostentatious waterfalls, now with FAR less fueling them, began to slow to a trickle.

Sighing, N’Ryssa the God Emperor tried to figure out how best to proceed from her weakened position, defaulting to what she had grown accustomed to while having to serve as her petulant nephew’s advisor. “Much will need be done in the agricultural ring to adjust, and we must ensure there is no flooding in the city. Magistrate, inform the council that we will need to dispatch architectural teams to evaluate this new… situation.”

“Pending the Great Ritaris allows us.” She said flatly, looking over to RIta.

Studying the woman, Rita Paris assessed her character. It was said, on her own homeworld, that one should not judge, lest ye be judged. But so far from home, she still carried with her the innate sense that she was willing to be judged, as she came in peace, with the open hand. This was a bureaucrat, a schemer, a politician. One who spent their life lying, trading favors and desperately trying to climb over her fellow being to achieve a security that would forever remain beyond her grasp.

Still, hopeless and irredeemable as the woman might be, Rita was obliged to try. However, before a pupil could be taught, the first lesson they had to learn was that they had a lot to learn.

“The sluiceways and water canal systems run throughout the city. There will be some water damage, of course, and people will have to adjust to the idea of running water. But those paths for the water were carved millenia ago, and only closed off a few centuries ago. The city knows what to do with the water,” Rita Paris declared, and her suit’s sensors confirmed that while the initial waters were causing chaos, that chaos was being met with exhilaration and joy.

“Right now, it looks like we need to work out a new system of government, based on proper distribution of resources to serve the greater good. Because this theocracy exists to serve the glory of one, not the needs of the many. That changes right now,” Paris said in no uncertain terms, as her armor vanished, to be replaced by her gold minidress uniform. “Come with me. Let us meet with the people, and let all have a voice for a change. Let the people be heard, and their needs be met.”

Extending her hand to the God Emperor, Rita sought that connection, that concession to something greater than oneself. The lecture of responsibility of power, of how one had that much greater a responsibility when others looked up to you. When the position was elevated, what was needed was not to remove oneself from it, but embrace those common people, for they needed to live not in fear, but in love. Respecting and dignifying those beneath, to uplift them to where all shared equally... it was the way of the Federation. It was the lesson she had needed to teach the goddess Hera, which she had forgotten aeons before. It was the command style of Commander Rita Paris, as she judged... for she was prepared to be judged.

Looking at the offered hand, N'Ryssa pursed her lips and took in a sharp breath. There was a cool breeze rolling across the plaza as the sun began to get lower in the sky as the woman who had been working to wrest control from her nephew for so long realized that she may now have to give it up. It was not a realization that did not sit well with the aristocratic woman who had become quite comfortable with power.

Glancing across the plaza, the soldiers that had amassed had lowered their weapons and the people who had been huddled, frightened, in the makeshift archway were walking slowly forward. She could not overpower the woman in gold before her, and she could not win a war of words with her without completely dismantling the belief system that the people clung to, which in turn empowered her over them. It was a no-win situation, but she realized that in this case, survival would mean losing the day.

Steeling her resolve, she reached forward and took the offered hand. “The old ways. The ways that failed once before. We must learn from that if this seed is to bear fruit, Great Ritaris... but I am willing to try.”

“For the people. This is the way.” She finished, doing her level best to express sincerity even if Rita could tell that the woman was working to believe her own words in the moment.

“That’s a good start,” Rita said softly, and led the God-Emperor to meet her people.

Hours passed in the sun as they spoke, at length, and Rita Paris laid down a few rules of basic society. Education for all. Compounded knowledge. Irrigation systems throughout the land, not just in the city. Magistrates would serve and protect, not oppress and enslave. Crops would be grown in all levels of the city. All would share equally, for the quality of a society’s mercy was to be found in how they treated the least amongst them.

All these and more, Rita Paris spent hours combing over, discussing, debating, engaging with the people of Kathoom. Through it all, she remained calm. She chose her words carefully, knowing the effect they would have, and that they too would echo through the ages. She included the God-Emperor, who eventually admitted that her name was N'Ryssa, the pronouncement of which brought thunderous cheers from the people.

The God Emperor was dead. Long live the Council of Seven.

The specifics of how delegates would be chosen and how they would be elected were logistics to be worked out yet, but by the time she was done, Rita felt she had hammered out a halfway decent system of governance that would serve the people, rather than the other way around.

Conversations that began in the plaza made their way into the great cathedral where citizens from the city, the Magistrates, heads of the farming guilds and more all sat together and spoke. And while Rita worked with all of them, an ever present smile and the spirit of compromise on full display, N'Ryssa watched it all.

Interjecting where needed, offering suggestions that served their purpose, rather than her own, and finding herself engaged in the process, she found her eyes coming back to the pale woman in gold at the center of it all. This wasn’t her arrogant, petulant nephew... whom she was not looking forward to releasing or explaining this all to… nor her sister who was Empress before him, who ruled because she had been given the power. This was a woman who reminded N'Ryssa of Kathoom of someone she had forgotten, many, many years ago.

This was a reminder of the woman that, once upon a time, a young girl named N'Ryssa wanted to grow up to be. Not a God-Emperor- just someone who did what needed to be done because she could. Because it was right.

There was a look of quiet reservation on her face as she tried to quiet the voice of the child that used to believe. The voice that was suddenly speaking up again for the first time in decades. The voice that had been slowly quieted, stone by stone, hidden behind a wall of cold choices and self-serving, political maneuverings. N'Ryssa didn’t like what this woman was making her feel about herself. She also knew that she needed to remember who it was that she once had tried to be, if she was to survive in this brave, new world. It seemed she would have to remember how to care.

Eventually, there was a quiet moment aside, where the two had shared a drink of water and some fruit, as plenty had been brought from the agricultural ring, to feed the multitudes. The Ritaris ate sparingly, and drank little, trying to leave more for those who needed it more than she. But N'Ryssa could see that, possessed of powers and abilities she may be, but the goddess was weary as a mortal after her labors. A smile for everyone, a kind word, a clasped shoulder, she ceaselessly gave of herself. But in this private moment, she could see the weariness, and somehow it did not lessen her opinion of the woman.

“I believe you have something of mine?” Rita declared, holding out her hand, exposing the bronze bracers that she wore, which looked no older nor newer than those set uncomfortably upon the wrists of the recently self-declared God Emperor. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

Looking down at the bracers on her wrist that had been little more than ceremonial elements of the office that she had put on for the first time in her life that afternoon, N'Ryssa sighed ever so slightly. They were symbols of a world that they had killed that day, and it was best to be rid of them and the temptation to return to those ways that would already be so impossibly strong in the days ahead.

Slowly, she pulled them off and handed them to Rita, her eyes low as she did. “Indeed. It is… for the best.”


“Ohhh, don’t be so negative,” Rita sighed. “As you look to me for guidance and wisdom, there is one I look to as well. It was she who gifted me with these, and by Hera’s will that they function for me. I just wanted to see if there is something I left in here for the future,” she explained as she took off her own bracers.

“Being one who is looked up to is a responsibility, not a privilege. To be looked up to in such a manner means that you serve all those supplicants who seek you... that’s the way responsibility works, you see. You have to be worthy of it, and that’s a constant challenge. But in the end, if you do it right, you might just make the galaxy a better place for having passed through it.” Sliding on the bracers, Rita searched the inventory, seeking what her counterpart had left behind. Her armor, of course. Rather than summon the entire armor, Rita summoned the wrist comm unit her counterpart would have recorded her logs on, for all those years.

Improbable as it was, Rita wanted to give her counterpart a chance to give her final report.

As the ancient device popped onto her wrist, making connections and powering up, she was pleased to note, she continued assessing the inventory. There were personal mementoes, or so she assumed them to be. Weapons, of course, and her armor. All of the Starfleet weapons could potentially be recharged, and used someday. While she knew she should remove them from this reality, she wasn’t positive that she could... or that she should.

“Once I reminded her that gods must serve their followers, and today I have been reminded of the same.” Removing the bracers, she handed them back to N’Ryssa. “Someday, a champion will rise. Who can wield the bracers as they were meant to be used, and perhaps that will lead to a dynasty of champions, who knows. But one who is wiser than I will watch for them, and she will know them when they clasp the bracers of the sun and moon upon their wrists. Because if there’s one thing Hera knows, it’s a hero.”

Taking the bracers, N’Ryssa looked at them for what felt far longer than it was before turning to Rita with a thoroughly confused expression. “You… would trust these… with me?”

“Why should I not?” Rita Paris replied simply, with a shrug of her shoulders that was rather seismic given her ample endowments. “I think you’ve learned a lot today. Your world has changed, despite what you had planned for it. But in this brave new world, you met me. You worked with me. You spoke with me. I think you are as qualified as anyone to determine whom should next bear the artifacts I left behind. I think you’ll make sure whoever inherits them understands the responsibility of being a servant to so many.”

When the golden goddess smiled, it did seem to light up the room, and in it, N’Ryssa found something wholly unexpected. Forgiveness. Pure, honest trust in her- trust that she would do the right thing, forgiveness for her past choices and actions. The belief that she would be a better person, simply for having been shown a better way.

“Great Ritaris?” C’Ress poked his head into the side chamber, the excitable young man having adjusted to the situation well, and was currently running messages to keep the gathering organized. “I know that you said that all should have a moment, but sometimes you needed a moment, but- there is someone here who has come a very long way to see you. He says he is a friend of yours, he and his father?”

That smile, if anything, grew wider and brighter, and the Earth woman rose from the pew upon which she had been seated with a quickness. “B’Jen?!?”

From behind the slightly anxious Magistrate, the young boy came running forward. “RITA!”

While the boy ran across to the goddess he had befriended those many hours ago excitedly, N’Ryssa seemed slightly confused as she took the bracers and held them close to her chest. Today was, it seemed, a day for confusion.

Standing at the doorway with C’Ress, B’Jen’s father B’Jin smiled, but looked extremely weary, sharing little of his sons boundless energy and enthusiasm after what was a walk of many long, hard hours under the brutal sun of Kathoom. “I hope our visit is not a disruption, Great Ritaris. But… B’Jen was… insistent.”

“The first to extend the hand of friendship, who tried to save me from the patrols? The one who showed me that I had to overcome those who opposed me with words, not force? My guide to modern Kathoom? I am overjoyed that I get to see you again!” Kneeling to the boy’s level, she hugged the slender peasant tightly, genuinely ecstatic to see him. “Please, sit, rest- you made the whole day’s journey to Konaar, you must be so thirsty and exhausted! Drink some water, there’s fruit here as well...”

“You… as always… have my thanks Great…” The weary father said with a gentle smile before B’Jen cut him off with wide eyes and a somewhat comical tone, “Father. Her name is Rita. Rita Paris, remember.”

“Of course, my son.” B’Jin smiled as his young son talked to him more like the father in the room for a moment, with all the enthusiasm of any child enjoying spreading newfound knowledge. “You have our thanks, Rita Paris.”

“My thanks to you and your village, for opening my eyes, and showing me that the people of Kathoom needed me once more, B’Jen,” Rita Paris declared, rising and clasping the exhausted man to her. He was sweaty and dusty as was his son, but it was clear that the gold-clad commander cared not at all.

Looking around, the young Magistrate noticed that the jug needed a refill and nervously interjected with a smile. “I shall get your visitors some food and fresh water.”

“Thank you, C’Ress,” Rita offered with a smile, gracious as always.

Watching it all, N’Ryssa was thoroughly taken aback at how quickly the barriers between the people who only a day ago would have never even interacted for their different classes, quickly dissolved in their equality. A magistrate whose first thought was to provide. A child hugging a god. Her, simply watching quietly as an unguarded smile found its way to her own lips in spite of herself.

“I am glad to see you as well, Rita.” B’Jen said, looking up at the buxom traveler. “I… I was worried. I thought… if I could help that I should try.”

“That’s what makes you a good person, B’Jen,” Rita smiled, tousling the dusty hair of the lad. “If we can help, then we should try, and that’s exactly what you did. It’s good that you are here.... the new Council has a lot of ideas, and they could use a voice from some of the outlying villages. Why don’t you come sit in and add your perspectives?”

“M...me? You want me to… sit with the…” B’Jen asked, his eyes a little wide with wonder until he stuck on a specific word. “There is… a council? But… the God Emperor?”

“Sits with the council, neither god nor emperor, little one.” N’Ryssa said, offering a smile at the remarkable child. “I am N’Ryssa, and I second the Ritaris’ suggestion. Any who could have so moved one such as she, is a voice I would hear as well.”

The former ruler looked at Rita, deferring to her in the moment. For her part, Rita smiled knowingly, nodding her approval.

“Take some rest, and refreshment- it has been a very long day for all of us. But yes, you and your father’s voices are just as valued as any other, and just as needed at the table. Cisterns will have to be built, and I happen to know two experts in the field,” she grinned at them both, as she felt the first tingle of the now-familiar Bulikaya particle within her. Which was rather an enormous relief to her. After all, with the time differential here, she might have had to stay for the hours in realtime, which would likely be the rest of her life.

While she loved this world and its peoples, she did not want to become the next Ritaris to die alone without Sonak on Kathoom.

Taking the father and son and sweeping them both into a hug, she then pulled back to smile at them both. “Thank you... for everything. I am so happy to have met you, to have been a part of your lives, and hopefully I have made your world better for my visit.”

“Thank you, Rita!” B’Jen said with a broad smile, not quite understanding that it was a farewell he was hearing. “You have!”

“Indeed.” B’Jin said, putting his hand on his son's shoulder and nodding. “You have given our entire world a tremendous gift. You have given children hope for a better future than seemed possible.”

Turning to regard N’Ryssa, the extradimensional explorer who had not planned to transform a world this morning looked at the local woman meaningfully. She said nothing, because no words she could add would define the situation better than a father’s love, and hope for a better future for his beloved son.

“I’ve not much time, and I need to say goodbye to the people,” standing, Rita Paris faced the woman who would be God Empress. “But I want you to know... I trust you, N’Ryssa. Be wise and humble. Make this world the paradise it was meant to be. Let them record in the history books of your grace, your kindness, your compassion... and your will to make this world a better place, for everyone. I believe in you.”

Laying her hand on the woman’s shoulder, Rita was there for a hug if needed, although she was smelly and dirty after so many hugs of so many dirty, sweaty people today.

Looking at the woman before her, N’Ryssa was beginning to realize that for all her power, ‘The Ritaris’ was just a woman as well. Neither perfect nor divine, but simply a mortal woman in extraordinary circumstances trying to help. Not a god to be feared or obeyed, but an example to be followed. “I will… do my best. I will listen.”

“Your best is all I ask. Thank you, N’Ryssa... I suspect your first challenge is going to be educating your nephew. But if you can change his mind, what chance does the rest of the world stand, eh?” Laughing musically, Rita Paris did not envy the task, but there would ever be challenges.

Challenges N’Ryssa was weighing in her head that felt more than intimidating at the moment. But if the Ritaris said she had little time left, then that time was important. “I do not look forward to that task, but it needs attending for certain. But so too does what you need to say.”

“The people will need your inspiration if any of this is to work in your absence. That fuel that will keep us going in the days ahead that will also be difficult.” N’Ryssa added, gesturing to the great hall where the chosen representatives were still assembled, talking.

“I’d best hurry then,” Rita Paris declared, before stepping out into the main cathedral, where the multitudes were gathered. Some were here to witness events. Some were here helping, running water and food and messages. Some were working to try to figure out the future, and the logistics required to get there. But all heads turned as she stepped into the room. Summoning her EVA armor, Rita activated the anti-grav pack, which would let her float above, to be seen by all, and heard when she spoke.

Now if only she knew what to say.

While Starfleet training had covered a great many possibilities, what to say when departing a planet where you are considered a living god had not been covered. But she’d done her best in the hours allotted to her on Kathoom, and tried to steer them back on course, for a better society. Which in turn inspired her speech.

“People of Kathoom, I see that you are all working together to find a way for all to be cared for, all to be equal, and for the safety and security of all to be safeguarded, fostered and nourished. I have faith in you- in you all,” Rita spared looks for the Magisters who had come to her side, to the citizens, to N’Ryssa and B’Jen and B’Jin.

“Rule yourselves wisely and well, and remember my teachings. I love you all, and I know you will make me proud.” As she spoke, she considered her next words carefully.

But there would be none, as the floating golden figure vanished, as if she had never been there at all.

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

A gasp went out in the room at the sight of their god leaving them, after defying gravity to address them all. A few faces welled up with tears of awe. Others put their hands on their left breasts and prayed to themselves in silence.

Looking at the place where she had been, young B’Jen squeezed his father’s hand. For his part, the man had a nervous expression as he looked around the room he suddenly felt extremely out of place standing in, but the child looked up and smiled at B’Jin. “It’s alright, Father. We know what to do. She told us… she showed us. We do what’s right. We do what’s right for everyone, just like she did.”

The words echoed around the cavernous chamber for all to hear. At the council table, the assemblage stopped and looked at the boy for a long moment, and the brief tension that had begun to build as Rita vanished, began to fade again. There was hope, and in the boy, the future for their people.

“B’Jen… would you walk with me a moment?” N’Ryssa said, looking down at him and smiling warmly. In her hands, a piece of her silk robe removed and used to bundle the bracers she had been given to decide what to do with. Whom to entrust them. Who could possibly be Kathoom’s champion, in the years to come.

Looking down at the young boy who had inspired their goddess, whose words spoke with a wisdom beyond his years, and who commanded the room of elders and leaders with a simple proclamation from his heart…

She knew.

Taking a moment to glance at the small countdown timer that Siivas had given her in the Victory’s sickbay, the Redheaded Romulan dimensional leaper took note. She had approximately fourteen hours left to go in this alternate timeline where a version of herself had become dislodged from time, yet found a home.

Taking some time to relax and refresh herself had been a proverbial godsend. It had felt great to have a clean uniform and have been able to take a sonic shower in the crew quarters of the young Andorian Communications officer that was now her escort to the Captain’s table of the U.S.S. Victory for dinner.

Most of her leaps thus far had come with no small amount of danger, and her last led her deep into the sewers beneath the streets of the Romulan city of Iuruth. So the shower had been extremely welcome.

Arriving on C Deck, Dox was familiar enough with the layout of this era of ship, but there was a world of difference from a holodeck recreation and walking through the real thing. The holodeck didn’t vibrate the deckplates the way the real thing did, and she could feel the hum of the warp drive in her bones, literally. It made you feel more connected to the ship, somehow, than the more efficient and smooth operations of the starships of the late 24th century. Distracted by the line of thought as she was, Dox was actually happy that Lieutenant Tivri was there to help her through the ship.

As the doors opened, the room looked somewhat similar to the layout of the conference room of the Hera, with a series of tall, curved windows facing off into the streaking lights of warp space. The room itself was similarly shaped with a narrow, curved table in the center. There were a number of crewmembers from the ship’s galley laying out dishes in the center, as Tivri and Dox entered.

“This is where I drop you off. Invitation only tonight, and if my chief’s in here, I need to be on the bridge. That’s him over there- the handsome Kolari with the doctor. Okay, have fun, and oh, you have a temporary quarters assignment, so you actually have somewhere to go tonight. Just call me on a comm panel and I’ll get you there, okay?” The bright and cheerful little Andorian girl waved, then scooted off, bound for bridge duty to cover the comms station.

"Thank you, Tivri." The Hera's Dox said politely as she nodded to the departing Andorian before turning back to the room.

Glancing about, Dox put the timer back into her pocket and tugged down on her freshly laundered uniform, then stood at parade rest at the doorway. Her doppleganger wasn’t present, but Captain Charybdis MacGregor was.

The tall and very pregnant Romulan woman was standing near the other end of the table, leaning some of her prodigious weight on the bulkhead as she talked with the ship's chief medical officer, Siivas Mackenzie. Also milling beside him, eyes flicking over to appraise and assess the newcomer, was a striking emerald-skinned officer with hair and eyes black as night. About his neck, above his red turtleneck, appeared to be a necklace of some sort... until it moved, and she recognized the coils of a serpent. A delicately tapered pointing of the ears, not as severe as her own, but reminiscent of some degree of Vulcanoid infusion into the bloodline somewhere along the line seemed logical. Particularly given the sharply angled jet black eyebrows, one of which raised slightly in curiosity, his appraisal apparently complete.

Reaching over subtly, he touched the back of his hand to that of the Deltan physician, who turned with a smile.

Which was when from behind her the door opened, and suddenly someone was grabbing her.

Turning with a start, Dox pivoted on her feet to put a small bit of distance between herself and whoever was behind her, but not enough by far as she looked up and met the eyes of Qurka Qurg. The towering Klingon had that same hungry smile on her face, and the clearly jumpy dimensional traveler relaxed her hands slightly, which had begun to raise defensively.

Realizing she was likely overreacting, Dox did her level best to calm down, though the Klingon woman's pheromones were as thick as ever. "Pardon me, Miss Qurg."

“I would pardon you for unspeakable crimes, Mnhey’sahe Dox. If only you would let me...” The Klingon vixen traced a long and surprisingly sturdy fingernail beneath the chin of the extradimensional explorer before withdrawing from her space. Her body was clad in a golden scaled emerald dress with peekaboo panels at the hips. While the woman’s figure was feminine, on display, it was all muscle covered by a fine layer of softening fat, to disguise her true strength. So in motion, she was both eye-catching and impressive. She raised her eyebrows, and the well-formed and mostly even ridges of her forehead move as she did so. For Qurka Qurg was nothing if not expressive. With the grace of royalty, she gently struck her chest and executed a Klingon bow, somehow making it look elegant and ladylike. Then she made puppydog eyes, peeking out from beneath those great flowing lashes.

“I promise, I’m all bark and no bite. Just being playful with the accidental visitor was how the Captain said it. Relax, It’s only flirting. Your wife won’t blame you if you escort me to the party.” With that, Qurka offered her arm. Seeing hesitation, her friendly expression hardened a bit showing the flint of the warrior beneath it.

“There are men of the Empire who would slaughter their best friends for the offer I’m presenting.” The Klingon glamazon grinned at that, which left doubt as to whether she was joking or serious.

Regardless, Dox wasn't pleased feeling challenged by almost everything about the Victory, and in particular, Qurka Qurg's charms. Charms the generally anxious pilot was in no way oblivious or immune to.

The time-displaced woman didn't like that her pulse was racing as much as it was as she took on a more professional posture and took the Klingon's offered arm. But her attention was turned back towards the woman who, in her own time, had become an unlikely friend and unexpected mentor of sorts. "Be playful with the unexpected visitor, Captain MacGregor?"

“Unexpected tourist were my exact words, Miss Dox. Mrs. Dox, I suppose?” Charybdis cocked her head in curiosity even as Siivas turned to do a wide-eyed take at Dox’s emotional reaction to being referred to as ‘Mrs. Dox’.

"That… is generally an honorific reserved for my Mother." The Hera's Flight Chief said as she led Qurka Qurg the fairly short walk from the doors to the table. "Which… hearing it for the first time, I think I prefer to leave for her. Miss Dox will be just fine."

A smile, albeit a nervous one, almost cracked her stern facade before she realized that the towering Klingon hadn't quite given her back her arm yet. She looked over, frustrated at not quite knowing how to defuse the situation and feeling very uncomfortable with every eye in the room seemingly on her.

Nodding slightly, Dox addressed the unexpectedly ravishing Klingon woman, "I thank you for the honor of escorting you."

“I am honored by your escort. Now go pull out the Captain’s chair for her-” Qurka began, even as Charybdis, in a rather impressive display, picked her own chair up and set it back down in place for her to sit... which was a bit of a ways from the table. Which, as she settled smoothly onto the chair with as much grace as her distended protruding belly would allow. At least her maternity uniform looked to be comfortable and functional, leading Dox to believe it was likely a local invention as she shot a somewhat incredulous glare at the Klingon and slipped her arm free to step a bit to the side.

“Please, be seated, everyone. Let us not stand on ceremony, for this is not such a night. This is a visit from another time, another place, another Dox. Tonight it is about toasting our guest, and perhaps even discovering why she looks at me with such melancholy. Miss T’vyn has the conn, Chief Weaver has mumbled that he will certainly try to make it. Selune, I am assuming, is napping in a lounge somewhere and will make an entrance later at a comedically appropriate moment, as is her wont. And of course our Miss Dox and Miss Valin will be along.”

“Unlike them to be late,” the emerald-skinned communications chief observed dryly as he inclined his head to the newcomer. “You move with a fluid grace. You are a student of Llaekh-ae'rl, but you have studied Suus Mahna and Mok'bara as well. I am Andurean Velth.” The serpent round his neck turned to eye her, and she could see dim lights in the serpent’s eyes as it regarded her.

Looking down and cocking his chin a bit, Andurean hmfed. “Well of course she can see you. She shares an empathic bond, which means she has potential. Which means you are indeed visible. But it’s all right, Hishraath. I don’t believe she means any harm here.”

Still standing as the others began to sit, one by on, following the Captain’s lead, Dox looked at the Orion man with the serpent about his neck with regard. Having grown up a smuggler and been in more than her share of dangerous situations in her life even before joining Starfleet, the short-haired Romulan woman knew the word ‘Velth’ wasn’t a surname, it meant ‘assassin.’

In its own way, the Victory’s crew was even more interesting that the crew of the Hera, it seemed as she replied to the implied question that apparently originated with the serpent around the Orion man’s neck, nodding. “No, I don’t mean any harm. I… don’t have a clue as to what mechanics might be behind my various destinations, my different experiences seem to indicate that there’s some… purpose to each. Something I need to learn about… myself. Learn, or change.”

As she spoke, the doors hissed open and in stepped her own counterpart. With a fresh, crisp maroon duty jacket, the Victory’s Dox’s much longer hair was worn back into a series of artfully woven braids pinned up higher on her head with an emerald-colored broach that was decidedly not standard-issue. “I remember my first few months here well, as does everyone else here. The first thing I needed to learn was how to exhale, to which Qurka can well attest.”

Entering immediately to her back right was Lieutenant Jessica Valin, and while the two weren’t hand in hand and were maintaining a professional appearance, everything about their body language projected that they were there as the couple they were.

As they entered the dining chamber, the Victory’s Dox gave a respectful bow that was basically identical to the one her counterpart had upon entering, though the smile was a bit more unguarded. “Maybe that’s a lesson we can impart to you before you leave. Good evening Captain. Siivas. Andurean. Qurka. My… apologies that we are a bit late.”

The last comment came with just the slightest touches of playfulness on the raspy Romulan’s voice as she smirked just a bit more broadly and Jessica Valin blushed ever so slightly.

“I hope your pre-game margarita was satisfying,” the Captain said cryptically as both Valin and Dox blushed rather furiously, and once again the local Dox had to remind her that the woman was brilliant, prescient and could simply make assumptions that were likely correct. It did not mean she was prowling around in their heads- although she couldn’t help but pick up on surface thoughts.

Which was likely Jessica’s thoughts betraying them, as it were. After all, as it was green on the inside, carried a scent not unlike limes, and was... salty. With the added benefit of being far and away her favorite after work treat.

At the comment, the Victory's Dox chuckled nervously for a moment and replied sheepishly. "Um… indeed. Yes."

For her part, the Hera’s Dox was completely lost at the reference for a moment before really looking at both women and putting it all together in her head as she realized that even the considerably more relaxed version of herself was mildly morftified.

As everyone finally took seats, so too did the the temporally time tossed flight chief, across from her counterpart and Jessica Valin, but also unfortunately in the only free seat which was next to Qurka Qurg, who patted it with a mildly predatory smile.

Taking her seat, Dox’s mind couldn’t help but run through the stories that Char had told her back in her own timeline of her crew on the Victory. Of how she herself had jumped forward in time, and how Siivas had been waiting for her. Of Siivas’ relationship with the Andurean. Of the windserpent that had bit her and enhanced her psionic potential, and how that would eventually be ripped from her. And again, Dox remembered the story of how the entire medical staff, including the gentle and kind Siivas, would die.

Looking around, she remembered how Liviana had taken them all to the past where they stood as phantoms on the bridge of Eilean Donan and she first saw Qurka, daughter of Qurg and second heir to House Jort. And where, in another timeline,THAT Siivas had seen and heard her in what was then a distant past, but here likely not that long ago.

Realizing she was dipping deeply into her memories, if only for an instant, Dox wondered just how much of it was evident on her face. She hadn’t felt any minds touch her own directly, though most every eye in the room was on her with the exception of Jessica, who was fixated on the table in front of her.

Sitting up a bit straighter, the woman from 2397 looked across at the younger version of the face she knew well. “Thank you for your hospitality. Under the circumstances, it is extremely appreciated.”

There was an upraised eyebrow from the Captain, while Siivas looked concerned, and it was patently obvious from Charybdis’ face that they two were communicating telepathically, racing through a conversation. Smiling, a somewhat mirthless affair, the starship captain nodded. “We welcomed Miss Dox aboard nearly a year ago. To have another version visit us from another timeline... well. It certainly is unexpected, given the number of potential realities out there. But I suppose that is the nature of the Bulukiya particle- it will most certainly show you paths untrodden.”

There was a shadow that passed over the Vulcanoid vixen’s face at that, but whatever painful memory had been dredged up, she kept it to herself.

“So, I understand you’ve met some of us before?” Siivas asked candidly as Char glared at him.

“Yes.” Dox replied as she glanced across at her counterpart, whose eyes narrowed slightly. Beside her, Lieutenant Valin stiffened a bit, and began subtly glaring at the Dox who didn’t belong here, who was upsetting the one that did. “About… half a year ago for me, after… I had been back to Starfleet to meet with the Admiralty about a recent mission… I received an invitation.”

The awkward pauses, designed to fulfill Char’s earlier request to not go too far into the details of her own life so as to not add emotional toil to her counterpart, made it a little trickier. But the Hera’s Dox tented her fingers as she continued. “So I made a visit with… well… with you, Captain. With… retired Starfleet Admiral Charybdis MacGregor, at your home.”

“Where?” Charybdis asked calmly.

Thinking for a second, Dox was partially still trying to suss out what was and wasn’t appropriate to say, but at this point, her counterpart was already a fairly massive rock thrown in the river of time, so she replied directly with a nod. “Scotland. Glenlochy. A lovely house actually.”

“MacGregor Manor?” she raised an eyebrow, surprised that she would keep the home of her husband so long after he would clearly have passed away.

“Yes. You had a garden that you tended and the cabin was filled with memories and mementos.” Dox added as the slightest of smiles graced her cheeks from the memory of a difficult but good day that changed the course of her own life.

“Cabin? MacGregor Manse is four stories tall. Are you talking about the servant’s quarters...?” the curious captain sought clarification.

That was what Liviana McCray called the smaller building that the Elder Charybdis had lived in when Char’s time-traveling granddaughter had come to visit her grandmother the night the elder Romulan had passed away. When the temperamental time traveler had described it to Dox angrily that day, she had hissed out the words with contempt, doing her level best to make Dox feel as terrible as possible. But when Dox had been given the chance to talk with Char again, visited by the passed woman’s spirit, she told her how happy she had been there the last few years of her life.

In the moment, however, Dox struggled with how to express all of that without directly opening her mind up to the Captain of the Victory. It was something she was still reluctant to do, particularly here in the room with everyone watching. But she had to say something, so she replied as best as she could. “I suppose, yes. You had taken it and made it very much your own. It was cozy and warm, and you told me that you were happy there. And I took you at your word.”

“I see. Proceed,” the curious captain sat back and moved as if intending to cross her legs, rolled her eyes and readjusted in her chair.

“You wanted to meet me. You… had been… watching me. Following my career since I’d entered the Academy. We talked for hours. You… told me stories of your life. Of the Victory. Of your… personal history, both the known and the hidden. You showed me pictures and mementos of your life, including images of everyone here.” Dox said, visible emotion in her face as she spoke.

At that moment, Dox’s head dipped a little as she glanced across at her counterpart, wondering for the first time if her Char’s interest might have been based on this version of Dox existing in her own past. But she put the thought into the back of her mind as she looked back at Char and Siivas.

“There’s more to it,” the sharply-angled brows came together, and the fingers came together in a manner not unlike a supervillain contemplating their next move. “Alright, Miss Dox. You’ve carried equal parts wonder and gloom about this visitation, so clearly you are in possession of knowledge that would be better known than unknown. If the Bulukiya is indeed guided by some sort of sentience as has been proposed, that means that you were sent here for a reason. Not only to educate yourself about yourself, but to potentially affect changes in the realities in which you visit. The longer the visit, the greater the potential impact, after all.”

While Char talked, Dox looked down to where her comm badge would have been had she not given it away to another version of herself she had met. A version in dire straits both literally and emotionally, that needed that little compass, and the weight of Captain MacGregor’s words sunk in.

“So-” Charybdis was just preparing to deliver her final statement when the wall comm panel whistled oooWEEEooo.

=^= Bridge to Captain Charybdis =^=

Rising with some degree of difficulty from her chair, the pregnant captain waddled at high speed to the comm panel, depressing the button. Looking over at her counterpart who still lived in the future, Victory Dox rolled her eyes and nodded in a silent ‘I know’.

“Charybdis here. Status report?”

“We picked up a very faint, low power distress call… from the Saratoga. She’s a patrol cruiser, Miranda-class, on patrol on the other side of the sector,” T’vyn reported, accessing the computer, blowing through the navigation security and accessing the other ship’s flight-plan to triangulate its position, which got fed to navigation and the captain’s chair at the same time, while she made the signal audible to the captain’s mess.

“Starfleet Command, this is Saratoga . Can you hear me...? Come in, please... Come in, please... We have been rendered inoperative by a probe of unknown origin... we have no power, repeat no power... Starfleet Command, do you read me...?”

The current mission was scut work designed to keep the Victory and her crew ‘out of trouble’, running an astronavigation survey in the Celes system to ensure that the previous seventeen surveys had not missed anything and that the binary suns of the system were not behaving erratically. After their recent escapades, it seemed that Starfleet command were trying to decide just where best to place them next as the ship's reputation grew, both as a trouble magnet and as accomplishers of the impossible.

Right now, none of that mattered to the pregnant principal officer of the Victory. A distress signal from one of their own overrode busy work any day of the week.

"Mister Andurean, confirm and verify signal then send receipt and confirmation that we are on our way. Please inform Starfleet Command that our current mission is being... sidelined... to lend aid and assistance to the Saratoga ." She reviewed the navigation data and calculated the time and distance. "Inform Chief Weaver that we're bringing the engines online and putting them to speed today... it's time to live up to our very quiet reputation as the fastest ship in the fleet. “

"I'll need medical, science and engineering to meet me in the main briefing room on Deck Three in two hours with some options for this scenario. And please send a tight-beam transmission to the Saratoga that they can stop transmitting- their distress signal has been received and we are responding- ETA eighteen hours," the captain ordered. In truth, by her calculations they would be onsite no later than just under fifteen hours, but better to offer a more negative than optimistic estimate was her logic, when it came to a tin can floating in the dark that was getting colder by the minute as the air ran out.

“Yes ma’am,” Andurean replied, hands already sliding across his console as he entered the commands for a coded text message. “I suggest we arrive as quickly as possible as a downed capital ship is easy prey and they’ve been broadcasting on wide-band. Also, Medical is asking for an open channel to the Saratoga to discuss resource management until we’re able to lend assistance immediately.”

"Agreed. We'll be crossing eighteen light-years faster than any ship in the fleet is capable of doing so, thus haste will certainly be addressed and why I am politely asking them to stop bleating like a wounded lamb in the darkness. And yes, by all means give Sickbay an open channel if they are asking for it. And now for the fun part- give me a moment then open a channel to Starfleet Command while I explain to them just why we're abandoning our current assignment," the cumbersome captain hauled herself out of her beloved command chair that was becoming more adversarial to her by the day.

"Let's see what the quality of mercy is this morning in the office of the admiralty, or if I will once again be facing an official reprimand for doing the right thing. I do so love these little moral quandaries," she muttered as she headed for her lab to argue with Starfleet Command somewhat in private.

“You could always tell Admiral Jones that the Syndicate recently upped the price on his head to enough currency to buy a small moon,” Andurean quipped in response as she passed. “All orders have been completed and I have a priority channel prepared as soon as my captain is settled in her web.”

~Ah, always giving me gifts. You spoil me, Mister Andurean~ Charybdis laughed as she made her way to her lab to explain the actions that were going to occur, regardless of Starfleet’s orders.

“Uh… Cha… Captain?” The Hera’s Dox asked, standing up from her seat in the middle of the flurry of activity that had clearly interrupted the evening, which at the moment actually felt like something of a relief. “Is there anything I can do?”

The Cheshire Captain lived up to her name as a wide and somewhat unsettling smile made itself at home on her face.

“You’re with me, Miss Dox. Let’s go give Admiral Jones an aneurism.”

To Be Continued…

“So that’s my plan, Admiral. I figure those ships have a few days at best... we’re in the area and while I will admit that my staff have not as yet concocted any plans, we’ve got eighteen hours to come up with ideas. And we’re a clever and inventive lot, I think you’ll find.” Charybdis chatted amiably with the admiral, hand parked atop her ‘baby bump’.

“That sounds like a darned fine idea Captain, and it’s admirable that your first instinct isn’t to go charging after the dangerous probe... instead you ask permission to go help a fleetmate. By all means, go ahead. And when are you due again?” The grandfatherly smiling face on the other end asked solicitously.

“Hard to say for certain Admiral, they tend to make such decisions on their own,” Char chuckled and smiled gently before speaking again in a soothing tone. “Three months, give or take. Thirteen months is a long time to be pregnant, but I’ve made it through ten months... now just comes the waddling backache, swollen ankles part. With a little luck I’ll be able to secure some assignments for my senior staff and take a few days off on Earth... I want their father to be able to see his firstborn.”

The admiral’s eyes flickered to one side, obviously noticing another message.

“I’ll let you go Admiral Cartwright... thank you again for the mission permission. Dismissed, sir?” Char asked, leaning in to the monitor. The Starfleet admiral nodded and looked grateful for a second.

“Good luck, Captain...” she could tell that he was struggling to remember how to pronounce her name, so she smiled and nodded.

“Thank you sir. Charybdis out,” she finished and ended the call.

As the call ended, the Dox from the future kept her face completely impassive, as she stood at parade rest to the side of the very pregnant Captain. The redheaded Romulan knew full well that the Admiral whom Char had just been speaking with would be one of the co-conspirators in the assassination of the Klingon Chancelor, Gorkon, in a few years from this point in history. But if she said anything that Char might act upon, it would risk the delicate peace that eventually formed between the Federation and the Klingon empire. Silently and internally, the young pilot realized that time travel was quite a pain in the ass, even in an alternate timeline.

“Oh well ain’t you clever, slick?” the snap-up monitor that was a component of her ‘workbench’ was still dark... the call had ended and the Starfleet logo was onscreen as the standard ‘end call’ sign. Yet the voice issuing forth was quite familiar to the lady captain of the Victory, if not to her unusual guest.

“Admiral Jones?” Charybdis asked cheerfully, looking directly at one of the spy cameras he had in the room with a grin before looking back at the monitor. “What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you, sir?”

“See, you wanted somethin and you weren’t quite sure I’d go for it. So you went around me. Now I know what you’re gonna say,” he rushed the words, cutting her off before she could protest and explain. He still had not made monitor contact as Charybdis tapped out a message on a nearby PDD to Andurean.

= ADM Jones on audio my lab. Genuine? And how did he bypass you? =

“Lookit you, typin when ya oughta be listenin,” he muttered, then continued before she could start talking. He was getting good at cutting her off, after nearly a year of practice. “You know damn well you shoulda run this through me first. What was the plan? Catch the old family man and play on his sympathies? You buckin for a favor from the admiralty sometime soon, lady?”

“Admiral, if I were going to seek a favor...” the alien captain began to reply, but he cut her off mid-sentence. “I don’t care what yer game is lady. I don’t like you playin it on my clock, is all.”

“I don’t work for you, Admiral,” Charybdis stated flatly. “You installed yourself into my chain of command because you have grown so accustomed to having me at your beck and call, but I do not, as stated by you in our initial agreement, nor by Starfleet rules and regulations, work for you. I work for the United Federation of Planets. I take orders from Starfleet.”

“Oooooh, feisty today huh?” came a dry chuckle of a response when the starship captain cut him off. It had been a year... while she was not as practiced as he at cutting one another off, she’d had plenty of time to listen.

“Admiral, I do not work for you yet you reap the benefit of my labors and I have yet to in any way genuinely disappoint you, nor give you anything less than my best efforts, consideration and cooperation. Why do you feel the need to belittle me and my crew, our efforts and...”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I heard it all before. Okay hotshot, pop quiz. You really wanna make a case for my manners? Out of anything you might pressure me for and apply what leverage you think you can bring to bear, this is where you’re gonna draw the line and make a stand? You want me to be nicer to you and your traveling freakshow out there?”

“No, Admiral,” Captain Charybdis replied gently. “This is not a fight. It is a request, sir. I hold you in nothing but the highest esteem and respect. I will admit that I do not like you, sir... but I do respect you, your judgment and your experience. And I appreciate the training and experience that you offer me, and the chance that you took on me. I was a gamble, and I still am. I recognize that.”

“You’re pretty good at them speeches... you are just darned fond of your own voice, lady,” came the reply. Chary couldn’t help but smile.

“I am, sir. I very much am fond of hearing myself talk. I suspect that while I have followed in my mother’s footsteps to the stars, eventually I may just follow my father’s path and pursue politics. Do you think I have the right stuff for it?”

“See, couldn’t just leave it at a quip... nope, you hadda go and pontificate a bit after that. Somehow I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ll be boring the hell outta some council or senate someday. Yeah, I’ll be sure to bear that in mind, ace. Meanwhile, you got plans to make for that rescue mission huh? And how you gonna make sure the same thing happened to the Saratoga don’t happen to you?” came the voice from the workbench.

From the information they had the probe had passed on, but no sense in passing up a good wisecrack, Chary reasoned. “We’ll sneak up on it, sir.”

“Heh. Yeah, funny. Awright, go bail out Alexander. It’ll make great press, so try to get along with her, wouldya? And if you turn it into a firefight somehow, make sure you win. We got an understanding about going over my head?”

“We didn’t have a disagreement, Admiral,” Char responded evenly. “Have a little faith and trust, Jones. I haven’t crossed you yet, nor do I plan to. You’re still my biggest fan, after all. Relax, sir. What we do in the next twenty-four hours in three months time they’ll be teaching at the Academy as ship-to-ship rescue protocol.”

“That’ll be the day...” came a muttered reply, and Char had the distinct impression that the conversation was over. But if she knew the old spook, he was still listening. She paused long enough to ensure that he was through speaking, then she spoke softly and carefully.

“You can play this however you like sir, obviously. But I want my crew to get their due, and I’m determined on that point. That’s going to be the line that I draw, and the fight that I’ll pick. In case you were wondering.”

Rising with a bit less energy than the day before, the captain of the Victory eyed the silent visitor that, despite the uniform, Jones had not asked about at all- which was uncharacteristic of the salty admiral.

At Starfleet Command, Rear Admiral Tommy Lee Jones steepled his fingers and smiled. She had indeed been a gamble, and she remained one. And she was most certainly a wild card. But she was playing the game, and she was succeeding... damned if she wasn’t succeeding.

Pointy-eared bitch might just be worth a damn, if she survived.


“There you have it, Miss Dox. Dealing with the admiralty at Starfleet Intelligence in the year 2286. Not much different than 2265, let me tell you,” The distended Captain blew an errant lock of hair out of her face. “Not dissimilar to your time, I suppose.”

“Depends on the Admiral. I’ve been… interviewed and debriefed by a few that were a bit like him. Others were better examples of the ideals of Starfleet. Others, I’m not sure about at all.” Dox said, matter of factly, as she nodded and allowed just a bit of a smile sneak out. “Except for you. You, I trusted. Wholeheartedly.”

That visibly took the woman aback, and she shook her head. “That, I have difficulty understanding. All right, out with it, Dox. You’re going to give yourself a tumor if you don’t tell me or warn me or whatever it is you feel that you have to do here. So it seems you were saved from a public confessional to a private one. So... go ahead. As much as I would like to believe I am above using foreknowledge to change the future, it seems I am not. So, out with it.”

Easing herself back down in her chair, for a few seconds Dox could see just how weary the woman was- physically, emotionally and spiritually. The entire pregnancy had been spent in space, on duty, far from the man whose touch had wrought them, and still trying to manage her duties. She missed her athleticism, but more missed mere agency over her own form. Everything was uncomfortable, her hormones were raging and if one part didn’t hurt another did, or the children would get in a fight in the womb.

Just as quickly, she concealed it with a smirk and that cool exterior she preferred... but Dox had still seen it, all the same.

“When I was talking with her, with your Mnhei’sahe, she told me about what happened when she arrived here. That she was partially responsible for altering her own timeline, to where she didn’t have any idea if the future she would have returned to would have even resembled what she left. What I returned to.” Dox said, folding her hands behind her back and starting to pace a bit as she talked. It was the exact same way that Char was used to talking with her own Dox, which was amusing to say the least.

“But this reality… it’s already divergent for me. What I say or do will change things, but there’s already a me here that does that every day just by existing. As such, I suppose I shouldn’t be all that concerned about the future, but Starfleet training dies hard, I suppose.” the redheaded Romulan said, circling the topic for a moment before she stopped in front of Charybdis. “So, yes. I know you. It was only for a day, but it was… very important to me. You trusted me with the weight of your life and… well… a lot more. But, I don’t quite know how to tell you what you need to know to understand.”

“She told me that you got in through my mental defenses so easily because she had let you in after you met. So… that means you said something to make her trust you too. I know that you’re good at that, so…” Dox relaxed her posture, and her defenses. “See for yourself.”

The eyebrow rose slowly, but the eyes beneath them focused, and she could feel Charybdis’ mind coming for her, like a hungry animal, sliding in and around her mental defenses until she was racing through Dox’s memories, seeking the touchstones where an alternate future self had met with Mnhei’sahe Dox, and told her life’s story.

Which her counterpart in another reality reviewed at high speed, then with a gasp, withdrew. Her breathing was labored and rapid, and her eyes were wide.It was clear that she was struggling with the enormity of what she had just learned. Her journey to the future, the Sword of S’task, her last days on Romulus, the death of her homeworld which had been averted, her life’s work brought to ruin.

But far, far more than that, she had heard the sorrow and pain in her own aged voice, lamenting the loss of her mentor, her Eshhuur... and all those brilliant, colorful souls that surrounded his orbit. Tears filled her eyes as she brought her fist to her lip and focused on restraining the overwhelming wave of grief she felt at the knowledge that she now possessed.

While Char had moved deftly through Mnhei’sahe’s mind, the memories were relived by both women and the emotions that came up through the process were powerful as the young pilot from another future staggered back slightly, putting her arm out on the bulkhead to her side to steady herself.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Char. I’m so sorry. If I thought I could have just… told you… I would have.” Mnhei’sahe said, wiping tears from her face as she regained her composure, forgetting the formality of rank as she spoke. “But… you’re right. Everything I’ve seen in these leaps… has to be for a reason more than just myself. And… if my memories can help you. Help you save the others. Help yourself... then you had to know. It… I owe you at least that.”

Despite the tears, a smile peeked out from beneath it all. “Miss Dox, please.... Sit down. Sit down, and lets you and I calm ourselves. Because if we leave my lab looking like a pair of weepy teenagers, it will ruin my fine reputation.” Rubbing a hand across her forehead, Char turned back and forth in her chair. “Spotty. Spotty’s illness will mutate and destroy them all, because Siivas will act to save the ship, and the thoroughly ungrateful planet Vulcan. Which would never know of their sacrifice. Well.”

“That... will not come to pass. I will not have it,” Charybdis said with first denial, then conviction as she began to plan. “I will not. I’ll... warn Siivas to be prepared for the Bulukiya interaction, yes... perhaps. Backup plan to transfer Spotty to a medical station for isolation. As for the supernova... it was, then it wasn’t? Explain.”

“That… I’m not really sure that I CAN explain.” Dox said as she sat, hands folded between her legs. “The… specifics of that I had nothing to do with. I only learned that it was a thing that had been averted after getting a certain level of clearance on the Hera. All I really know is that something having to do with the interdimensional nature of my Commander. Rita Paris, and Sonak… they came from a different timeline. A universe apart and over a hundred and thirty years into the past, but with foreknowledge of the Hobus supernova. Then… with that knowledge… well, it goes into details I honestly don’t know about.”

“But… what I do know… is that all of this is mutable. Nothing is set in stone in this timeline, so, if you can save them, then I’m glad.”

“I will,” Charybdis said with quiet resolve, and in that moment, Dox could see the starship captain in there, even if she was wrestling a beachball under her uniform. “You’ve given me a great gift, Mnhei’sahe Dox, and I owe you a great debt of gratitude for it. What can I offer you in return for the honor upon me which you have bestowed, the gift that you have granted me? Ask, and if it is mine to give, it is yours.”

“You’ve already given me so much, Char.” Dox said, wiping her cheeks, no longer seeing any difference from the elderly woman she thought of as a surrogate grandmother and the young and vital Romulan Captain sitting before her. In her mind now, it was simply Char and she smiled for the chance to speak to her again, even under these unusual circumstances. “But maybe the greatest gift you imparted was the advice you gave me the… the last time we talked. You… you told me to remember to be there for…”

In mid-sentence, Dox stopped. A dark thought came to her mind as she realized that she did have something to ask for.

“Don’t… don’t tell her. Don’t tell the other me. Don’t tell her that Mona was pregnant.” Dox said, thinking of the fact that her counterpart had found unexpected happiness here and knew that this information would crush her. “That’s all I could say. All I could really ask. If she knew about the children… I know how I would react. What it would do to me.”

“Because… what you told me was to always remember that those children will need me. Like yours will need you.” Dox said, remembering her last talk with Char, when the spirit of the departed woman visited her at the birth of her children. “They won’t need the savior of Romulus. They’ll need their Mother. You told me to remember that… so... I guess turnabout is fair play.”

There was a light chuckle as she said it, taking a breath and composing herself, before asking a question. “She’s… happy here. I can see it. She still has all the pain I hold in me, but she’s… dealing with it better here. And… I want her to stay happy.”

“You have it on my honor... tattered and soiled as it is,” Charybdis admitted, “she will never know of such things. She’s a fine officer, and a good friend. I do have plans for Romulus, and I am rather counting on her to rescue me from them. But that’s... later. Here and now... I am glad to have her aboard, and count myself fortunate. Knowing what I know now...”

Those sharply angled brows knitted together. “I also count myself fortunate to have encountered you. If I have a fighting chance, I have to take it. I can’t... lose all of them. Not Sickbay. Not all of them. It would burn the heart out of the Victory, and...” in that moment, Charybdis struck upon a realization. “That’s why she tried her plan. That’s why she risked it all, because her heart was gone, and she had nothing left to lose, or so I would imagine. I love Raine, but this starship is my home, and my family. To lose so many of them, all at once...”

Pursing her lips, the mind of the captain raced, when it made another connection. “In the morning, I’ll take you to see a marvel of 23rd century engineering you’ll appreciate, which our Miss Dox didn’t show you on your tour. But that’s tomorrow.” Rising stiffly from the chair, Charybdis inhaled sharply, then her expression set in one of determination. Grimacing for a second, she waved off the offered hand.

“I’m fine. It’s... difficult. Iron and copper blood do not mix well, and Vulcanoid genealogy will win out, but it is still a struggle. In the meanwhile, Miss Dox? You are exhausted. I’m ordering you to get a shower, a hot meal, eight hours sleep, then come see me in the morning. Understood?”

It was clear to the Romulan redhead that the captain of a starship of the past had much of the future to consider, and that while she prescribed all these things for her guest, it was quite likely she herself would not follow suit. Heavy is the head that wears the laurel, as the Romulan proverb went.

“Aye, Captain.” Dox replied with a nod and a light smile. She knew better than to try to tell Char to get rest herself, but she also suspected that there was at least one person on this crew that might be able to talk the beleaguered Captain into resting: herself. During the link when Char had been in Dox’s mind, that connection went both ways and the dimensional traveler had sensed that what Char had confirmed was true. The cagey Captain did, in fact, trust her counterpart in this time.

“Captain…” Dox said, “Before I go… I did have a question. Something that your Dox said.”

“She said that when she was still in custody of Starfleet, that you came to talk to her. That you two talked for a long time.” Dox said, running a finger over the tip of an ear as she spoke, “She said that you gave her a rather impressive speech. One that played a big part in her choice to stay here, in this time. What did you say to her?”

The smile that spread across the face of the Cheshire Captain was one the visiting Romulan officer had not seen. It was one of genuine fondness, of a recollection which clearly made her feel warm and sentimental.

“Admiral Jones had, of course, been called in, as she knew too much to be a fraud, and when a Romulan officer- a redhead, no less, which was unheard of- was in Starfleet custody, this was relevant to his interests. He interrogated her, found her to be cooperative to a point, then intractable. That was when he realized she was indeed a genuine Starfleet officer, despite her ‘negative attitude toward authority’.”

“Which is when he called me in. Blindsiding me, of course, but he suspected I would come to the truth. So I came to Starfleet Command- which is always SUCH a good time for me. I sat down, and I started with ‘Jolan tru’. Nice, simple and direct. She knew my secret and we got it out in the open, and for the first hour, we spoke exclusively in Romulan, knowing it would drive Jones insane as the translators struggled to adapt to our dialects and fluidity. After all, they don’t have a lot of Romulan language to work from, and not like the entire planet speaks one dialect.” That smile was a bit more smug and self-assured now- a bit more familiar.

“So I told her my story, and how I had come to choose Starfleet...” Charybdis explained, waving absently at the visiting Dox. “The tale you already know, it seems- my trials and challenges. What I believed, and what I felt was important. We talked about my childhood in the Duatha province, of growing up watching a heroine of the Star Empire as a role model, and what that resulted in for me. I didn’t ask her a single question until the second hour. By then, she knew me- all of it. The good and the bad, the brave and the broken, the lies and the shreds of truth.”

“Of course, she was dubious. But I AM a Tal’Shiar trained operative, so that truth was already there. At that time, I had not fired on the Star Empire, and I was not yet fully an outlaw and war criminal, but it was clear that I was a rebel. In the second hour I asked about her past, her childhood, seeking clues that I could use to connect the dots. But as you know, being raised on a smuggling freighter meant that her tale was unverifiable. So instead, we talked. Back and forth, for hours, getting to know one another, feeling one another out. I took her for a walk around Command, both of us tourists- I was more familiar with the world of 20 years earlier, she was more familiar with a world 100 years later.”

“In the end, it came down to landmarks, and the same was true with us. We looked for ways to trust one another. I could not verify her story, even if she let me in telepathically. She could not verify that this was not all some elaborate ruse on the part of the Tal’Shiar, although I clearly knew too much to be a ploy by Starfleet. So, she had to make a choice, one of trust. Do you know what her answer was when I framed the issue thusly for her?” those sharp eyebrows rose in question, rather than challenge. She genuinely wanted to see if this Dox would arrive at the same conclusion.

The entire time Char has been speaking, Dox absorbed it all. She didn’t have the hardest of times putting herself in her counterparts shoes, all things considered, and imagined what she would have thought about Char’s stories then.

That version of Dox had been lost before her kidnapping at the hands of the Tal’Shiar. Before meeting her grandmother or learning the true meaning of her family’s reach on Romulus. Before she had ever even set foot on that world with its turquoise skies and lavender tipped trees. And as she really thought about what Char was asking, she put herself back in those proverbial shoes and remembered who she had been before all that had happened. Before not just the physical punishment at the hands of Dalia Rendal, but before she had almost given up herself to the tutelage of Verelan t’Rul.

Even now, she thought back on her grandmother with a mix of emotions. There was anger and resentment, but also longing... and that desire to belong. That need to belong, that had been denied her so much of her life. So much so that she spent the last few years clinging to any and every responsibility put before her just to have that sense of meaning and value.

“She’s me. Or, at least, she was. She would have looked at you and seen... not just parts of herself, but enough that she longed to understand more. That link to a world she… and I… still long to understand. And she would have seen all the things I can still see in you, that are so much like the friends and mentors we made on the Hera and...” Dox said, working it out in her own head, coming to a realization that she had refused to make across all of her meetings with the cagey Romulan Captain. “She would have chosen to trust you. Hesitantly. Not wholeheartedly at first. But…”

“But she would have… wanted to trust you.” Dox said, looking at Char in a way she had refused to accept up until this moment. Looking in the eyes of a woman that she realized came to represent what she had always wanted her mother to be like. “She would have needed to trust you. To BELIEVE in you.”

Expression softening, as did her tone, Charybdis nodded. “Yes... all true. She was very much alone, cut off from everyone and everything she had ever known. She was vulnerable, while trying so hard to be brave. Jones, despite his outward antagonism, is at heart still a good man. In her, he saw a genuine Starfleet officer, who would never be allowed to serve. He knew I was her only chance, and as someone who also didn’t fit in, she would gravitate to me if I offered a shred of compassion.”

“Imagine my delight and surprise when I learned just how dedicated an officer she was, and so... idealistic.” That brought about a wry smile, and a shake of the head. “I never knew this Rita Paris of yours, but I owe her a debt... although perhaps having her derail my counterpart’s destiny may have repaid that, come to think of it,” Char chuckled. “But she taught you... her... what Starfleet stands for, and she prepared you both for command. I inherited a fine officer from her, and a good friend. We’re a little close in age to have a relationship of mother daughter but... at the time, I could certainly see it. After all, no one tends to guess my actual age anyway. The wonders of inscrutable Vulcanoid genealogy.”

Pausing at that, the renegade Romulan, who actually did look like a woman in her early 20s, now that Dox really studied her- although the dark circles under her eyes and the seeming permanent crimp in the right corner of her mouth were signs of her ongoing strains and struggles. Those nebulous violet eyes peered at the visiting Dox. “You mentioned your own mother... it seemed our Dox had a very difficult relationship with her. I assume the same of you? I know, I know, telepathy. But I don’t go snooping when I don’t need to, and Siivas is still trying to teach me how to be a polite telepathic invader...”

“Difficult, but steadily getting better.” Dox said, eyebrow raised as she shook her head and smirked a bit. She still didn’t like people getting into her head, but with Char it was different. Or, at least, she understood her a bit more. “But since you heard that and it’s out there… I can’t say if your Dox has those same feelings. After all, she never met the version of you that I did first. The version that was very much old enough to be more than a mother. But… even here and now, when she looks at you, I can very much imagine that she sees a woman she wants to be like. A big sister, at least, to look up to and keep an eye on at the same time.”

“I’m glad you two found each other here. Maybe there was a guiding hand pushing her to a place she needed to be here.” Dox said, thinking about it for a moment as she pondered the cosmic realities she was privy to. “There is such a thing as fate, and it seems to like when things make sense. Her… here with you... makes sense. She… fits here. Maybe more than I do back on the Hera.”

There was the faintest hint of melancholy in Dox’s voice as she spoke, but she did her level best to put it away. “I don’t know how much of my other journeys that you saw but… only a few went in any way well. The rest… have been like nightmares of one shade or another. Versions of me where fate decided to break me in different ways, usually in direct proportion to my own desires. I saw more than a few counterparts that got to see what it would be like if I had gotten to return to Romulus, and… most were things I partly wish I hadn’t seen. It’s… not easy to see that you truly can be shattered.”

“Something I suspect you know fairly well, having done this yourself, I imagine.” Dox finished. “But here… it’s good to see a version of myself that… almost feels like a reward. Where, for all she had to go through, she put her trust out there, took a leap of faith and was finally met with people who were willing to catch her, and help her back up.”

“There was one reality I encountered where I had lost a critical battle, and the Victory had been captured,” Charybdis admitted, seeking a frame of reference. “She was kept as a harem girl by a wealthy man, who indulged her desire for scientific invention while ensuring she was safe from harm. She was chubby and curvaceous and very unabashed. I could not conceive of how she could possibly be happy, but she countered- no one sought to harm her. No one insulted her. The Star Empire was far away and unable to reach her, and the only responsibilities she had were those of pleasure, which were easy enough to indulge. So, she posed to me, who was truly the slave, and who wore it better?"

”I do not necessarily believe in fate, nor destiny, although Siivas certainly does. Perhaps I have seen too much chaos in my life to believe such a thing, or perhaps I am simply too cynical. Perhaps I refuse to ascribe such agency to the universe, for if so, it seems unduly cruel at times. But I believe we make our own choices, forge our own paths, and that we have no destiny save that which we forge for ourselves.” Eyeing Dox meaningfully, the curious captain opened her hands in a gesture not dissimilar to one Rita was fond of- the open hands of surrender.

“If the Dox here seems happier, perhaps she made choices based on different factors? Perhaps she found more purpose. I can’t know,” Charybdis admitted, which seemed less the truth than an evasion. “But you do have a unique opportunity to ask her directly. I suspect you are both given to 06:00 runs around the outer ring of Deck 6 every day, so perhaps you might meet her there and ask?”

“Heh.” Dox chuckled nervously. “Yes. I still run a few times a week, particularly when I have the time. Other times, I spar. We have two Klingon sisters in security who are… very different from Qurka. Totally different kind of sparring, there. But, yes. I…”

Pausing for a moment, Dox hesitantly admitted, “We’ve not really… gotten along. Which is distressing in and of itself, seeing as how of all the alternate versions of myself I’ve met, she is essentially the most like myself as I am. I suppose I should at least try and make right while I have the chance.”

“Why is it that you suspect you two don’t get along? Is it because you are too busy judging one another’s choices to actually see the inherent value of the lives you lead?” It was a shot in the dark- presumably- but a good one.

Looking at the dark-haired Romulan Starfleet Captain, Dox almost wanted to protest that what was said wasn’t true, but she knew better. “Essentially, I think so. Or… more that I know I at least was judging her, and I think she was looking at me and suddenly second-guessing all of her choices all over again.”

Pausing for a moment, the exhausted officer failed to stifle a yawn. “Which… we do need to talk about, I suppose. I… don’t want to leave here having damaged her life.”

“I did make it an order, Miss Dox. Which means I suspect you will do your best.” Levering back off the worktable she had been leaning against, Charybdis reached overhead and cat stretched. And for a moment, with the angle and Dox’s placement, she could see past the swollen pregnancy and see the woman lugging it all around. Muscular yet curvaceous, much in the same manner as Qurka Qurg. Under ordinary circumstances, she would likely be extraordinarily athletic. But not with twins growing inside her as she chased across the universe to render aid to stricken comrades.

Relaxing from the stretch, Captain Charybdis's face became somewhat earnest, and honest. “Bear in mind, all of the self-loathing you two shoved down that you haven’t managed to jettison yet thus far in life still makes you dislike yourself just as much. The voices of self-worth just get louder as you learn to listen to them. So when you see her, remember- she has trouble liking herself, too.”

“Goodnight, Miss Dox,” the mistress and commander of the Victory dismissed her guest, as one would an officer under her command. It was, in fact, something she was rather accustomed to saying by this point, as she and the redheaded Romulan second officer often talked into the night together, ending only when she dismissed the young officer whose future was bright. They talked of the past and of the future, and of their adventures together. They slipped in and out of their native Rihan when they did, because it was usually just the two of them, or with T’vyn, who also spoke the language, though with a stilted Ra'tleihfi accent. A little extra polished, and spoken like politicians tended to in the capital city.

Spending time talking, as sisters did.

To the visiting Dox, it did seem to be a strangely familiar ritual, for the first time. But she smiled, recognizing it for what it, was and was glad for it. “Good night, Captain. And thank you again.”

To Be Continued…

Thinking of everything said and everything shared, Dox couldn’t help but be glad for every extra minute that fate had chosen to give her with the woman who had meant so much to her in her life. And now, she would try and figure out how to make thighs right with her counterpart here on the Victory.

After a few hours of much needed sleep, and a bite to eat first. I wonder if that meal is just sitting there at the Captain’s table, still? She thought as she took her leave of the Romulan Starship captain.

In point of fact, most of it still was.

As was Siivas Mackenzie, Qurka Qurg and Andurean, all having raktajinos and chatting, all three looking up in surprise at the entrance of the extradimensional guest.

Even the windserpent around Andurean seemed a bit surprised by Dox arriving as the Romulan pilot smiled, her eyes still a bit red from the earlier tears. “Uh… pardon me. I was… just hoping there was still some food. I haven’t actually eaten anything in… a while. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The emotional conversation with Charybdis had drained a good amount of what was left of the traveler’s energy, and her more professional demeanor and defenses were fairly down all around as she stood there nervously.

“Oh for the sake of all that’s holy, come in, sit down and eat something. Eat everything, hell... it’s all going back into the processor,” Siivas gestured broadly. “We can leave if you’d prefer privacy, or you can grab and go, or come join us. Entirely your choice. After all, you are our guest.”

Looking at them, it was easy to remember when she had first seen all three for the first time. Not on a starship, or even in Char’s pictures, but for real. When Char’s time traveling granddaughter Liviana McCray brought them back to the Christmas party at Eilean Donan. The party that, in this reality, would have been roughly a year ago.

“No, please. I… would actually prefer the company… if you wouldn’t mind.” Dox said as she prepared a plate from the still-warm options. Settling on a particularly good smelling tray of what looked to be some kind of roast with potatoes and some mixed vegetables, she grabbed a cup of rakrajino and took a seat, this time ACROSS from Qurka Qurg and one down from Andurean. Occassionally, even an introvert doesn't want to be alone.

Taking a seat quietly, Dox knew she was exhausted and probably all but projecting her thoughts to the thoughtful Delatan Doctor. The doctor who, in a different timeline, was able to detect her mind and consciousness even cloaked in that happy castle back on Earth where Char would meet her great love. But at that moment, she was unconcerned with such things. She chose to trust Siivas then, and did so now. And as much as Qurka Qurg had been pushing her buttons here, she was still a bizarrely familiar face, as was the Orion assassin next to her.

In the moment, as this version of Dox sat and began to eat quietly, it was perhaps the most that she had truly not just looked, but felt like the woman all three had come to know quite well here on the Victory. It turned out that exhaustion and opening her mind up to Char had loosened that proverbial stick in her ample posterior.

“So, that’s why I believe that the single electron theory cannot hold. It’s just too preposterous to even contemplate. Now,” Siivas continued the conversation, trying to normalize the room and not make Dox the topic of conversation. “How do you feel the diplomatic relations are going with Q’onos, Qurka? At this rate you are liable to be the first commissioned Klingon officer in Starfleet before they finally admit that the strip-mining they are doing is going to create a catastrophe. It’ll probably take some sort of disaster to bring them to the table, don’t you think?”

While history wasn’t exactly Dox’s top course at the Academy, having just eavesdropped on a conversation with one of the Admirals who would eventually try and take advantage of the destruction of the Klingon moon of Praxis, the topic of the future of the Klingon Empire was fresh in her memory. As such, she gulped hard on a fork full of roast and choked slightly as she did.

Coughing just a little, she washed it down with a sip of her coffee awkwardly. “Pardon me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Avoiding eye contact, Dox tried to go back to eating hoping she hadn’t just derailed the conversation.

“In any universe, you are a delight. Mnhei’sahe,” Siivas sighed, delicately sipping his raktajino, pinky extended. His chair was turned sideways, and he had one leg draped across Andurean’s lap. He looked casual and relaxed, despite the stimulant. “You two are quite the pair, here. Charybdis’s all fiery passion... she’s the Flamebird, you see. She rises again and again, from the flames of ruin, stronger each time. You’re supposed to be the Warbird, but here... you’re the Dove. You temper her, remind her of her gentler nature. Remind her what she’s striving to uphold, to preserve for future generations. T’vyn is a good balance for her, but you challenge her. You won’t let her be less than her best, and it gives her cause to rise.”

Grinning playfully at the newcomer, Siivas MacKenzie cocked his head in her direction, the teardrop-shaped emerald upon his brow held there by a latinum chain about his crown catching the eye- the same emerald color of his eyes, and the skin of his lover, she noted in a flash of insight.

“We never anticipated you. Her we knew would come along. I saved her, in a singularity that killed three-quarters of the crew. I befriended her and saved her, and that was the only reason she didn’t fly the USS Bonne Chance to Romulus, where she would have brought about the end of the Federation and dominance over the alpha and beta quadrants to the Star Empire.” Wiggling his toed against the waist of his lover, Siivas wiggled his eyebrows.

“Never underestimate the power of compassion,” Qurka raised a glass of wine, downed it, and went back for another, pouring one for herself before considering, and extending the pitcher in Dox’s direction. “Bloodwine? It’s no great vintage, but it’s the stuff.”

Tired enough to let a smile out, Dox nodded towards Qurka. “I could actually use a bit. Thank you.”

Standing, Qurka used her height advantage, snagged a water glass from one of the other settings, tossed the water on the carpeted deck, then filled the tumbler with bloodwine. Leaning over the table to hand her the drink offered Dox quite the view of scantily clad mocha cleavage- lace bra, she noted with a blink- but Qurka wasn’t vamping, this was just a state of being for her.

Then, raising an eyebrow, the time-displaced Romulan woman looked down for a moment as she spoke, half to herself, “Okhala'dhael u’ Akh’dhael.” The Rihan terms for the Flamebird and the Warbird. “What do you mean, that I’m... she’s supposed to… or was supposed to be the ‘Warbird’?”

“A catalyst is supposed to arise, which is the same generation as our Scylla. Romulus generated a great number of wild talents in their eugenics program, and some of them not only survived but thrived. All of them are as exceptional as our beloved Captain, in their own way. And many of their gifts are surprisingly powerful... and they, unlike our Firebird, tend not to be rash. Polite and calculating and precise are our opponents.” Siivas could have been speaking in theoreticals, but it didn’t really sound like it.

“As she arms for war against her own, because that is her purpose- she is the cleansing fire, and she heralds the end of all that is corrupt and honorless in the Star Empire. She arrived once on Risa, the planet made peaceful by her murder. She arrived once over Earth, for she adopted it as her home to defend. And she will arrive once on Romulus, heralding its end.” The mood in the room had somehow grown electric, and everyone felt it. Seldom had Siivas ever laid out this much of the grand design, and never to a stranger. But he was, and both Anduran and Qurka sat somewhat spellbound by the Deltan doctor’s tale.

“The Warbird is the warrior aspect of the Firebird, as she foments dissent amongst the armies and divides them, sowing chaos. Somehow I never expected the dove of peace, but... her role remains to be seen. She may yet fulfil her destiny in that particular prophecy. What I can say, in the here and now, is that... she’s good for Char. T’vyn holds her accountable and watches out for her, but she accommodates her. Dox challenges her to be better.”

As the recognition of the phrase flashed across this Dox’s face, he nodded. “I lied to her, and told her I’d never met such a woman on the beach on Risa. But she was there... your bombshell. Back when we were all vacationing there on shore leave from the Bonne Chance, I met your friend Rita. I taught her my philosophy while we were waiting in line for an ice cream cone.”

At that revelation, Dox’s jaw fell open. She knew that in her own timeline, there WAS a Rita Paris. A woman who had also been believed lost in a transporter accident, but one that had never been found or reconstituted like the Rita from the so-called Kelvin Timeline had been on the Hera.

Nodding at the stunned expression, the Deltan doctor pressed on. “Reconstituted from a warp ghost, with a bloody handsome Vulcan and a starship captain both around her finger. I changed her files here, and Andurean stays a step ahead of our Dox’s research. I lie to her because the truth would haunt her. But, we’re keeping tabs on her, my family and our friends. Rest assured, if your Miss Paris does show up in space at some particular coordinates at a particular time, there will be a Deltan cruiser there waiting to find her, I assure you.”

“That’s what we do- we safeguard the future, while we’re living in the present, and remembering the past.” Touching the gem on his forehead meaningfully, Siivas sat back to let Dox digest all of that.

The digestions did not take long as Dox replied quickly and energetically. "You changed Rita's… wait… She's… I'M investigating Rita disappearance here from the Victory?"

Then the overtired officer rambled under her breath for a moment, "Of course she is. I would in the same… wait."

Shaking her head, Dox took a big swig of her bloodwine and took a moment. "Okay. Imirrhlhhse… You need to tell her the truth, Siivas. We… Hnaev… we grew in different ways. I understand that. We're not the same woman anymore. But she at least still was me, and the way we've been snipping at each other all day tells me she's still enough… ME… that she's haunted regardless."

"She's happy here. She's… and…" Dox took another swig, and a combination of exhaustion and alcohol intensified the effect just a bit more that it normally would have. "And… maybe I'm… maybe I'm a little jealous... Jealous of her. Of myself. But if you aren't truthful with her, then that happiness is kreldanni SHAILL'Hnaev!"

While she was yelling a bit, spouting a Rihan curse equivalent to the English expletives of 'effing Horse excrement', it was clear Dox was angry more at HERSELF than anything else as she flumped back in her chair. "She trusts you, Siivas. I trust you. Ever since the castle, I have. She deserves the truth. Please."

Wiping her tired eyes, Dox's voice dipped as she repeated Siivas's words from earlier. "Hmm...'As she foments dissent amongst the armies and divides them, sowing chaos.' Akh’dhael. The Warbird. Sounds more like me here and now. I shouldn't be here. I'll just… hurt her more."

“Or you’ll give her closure,” Andurean added quietly. “She has always wondered ‘what if’, even as she made her life here. You ARE that ‘what if’ made flesh. Perhaps knowing what you see here and hearing such envy from your own lips might mean the world to her.”

Reaching over to pat the knee of the uniformed officer, the officer in the medical jumpsuit sighed. “I don’t love him just for the sex.”

“Mostly the sex, but I do have my moments,” Andurean added dryly, a bemused smile settling on his face.

“Dissent? What dissent? We’re not fighting, I didn’t see Char running you off, and even your counterpart gave you the tour. What makes you think you’re dividing anyone?” Qurka Qurg asked, then leaned in, a surprisingly serpentine tongue tracing her full, thick, painted lips. “Although if you DO get to urge to divide someone...”

“The only reason she says such things is because you blush a delightful shade of mint when she does, you know,” Siivas rolled his eyes overhead, shaking his head before pointing to her. “You... have a point, and as you know yourself, and our Dox, rather well, that’s food for thought. If you think the truth will set her free, I will share it with her. Seems only fair given that, as I understand it, we are all slated to die by fire in the immediate future? Well, not you, obviously...”

At that, Dox's eyes narrowed just a bit and she pursed her lips slightly. "Right. I suppose Char already filled you in on what I showed her. Makes sense."

“Of course she did,” Siivas explained gently. ”If she hadn’t, I still would have heard her distress at learning the news... you frightened her, and that’s not an easy task. Our captain... does not deal well with loss. In this lifetime, she has had few who were precious to her, and she tends to hold rather tightly to them. The concept of losing so many of us at once was beyond devastating for her, so of course I ‘heard’.

Thinking about how the two had been clearly communicating telepathically earlier, Dox figured out what must have happened already. Putting her now empty glass down, upside down on the table so as to not give Qurka the opportunity to loosen her up any further with more Bloodwine, the red-headed Romulan looked out the windows as the stars streaked by for just a moment before she replied.

When she did reply, it was with a story of her own. “One of my other… leaps... before coming here… was to Romulus. To the sewers beneath the city of Iuruth. When I was there, I met a version of myself that was… a very different woman. She was scarred and in so many ways, broken. She called herself Min t’Aan. A fake name... my mother's house name... she had assumed to hide from the Tal’Shiar over the course of the months that she had been on the run. We… talked for hours. In those hours, I learned something specific.”

Taking a bite of her dwindling plate, she chewed as she talked through her story. “That was supposed to be me. That was the future that I had once been… slated for.”

“Well over a year and a half ago, our ship rescued a young girl. An android named Kodria, from our future. An android that knew many of us on the Hera very well.” There was a brief pause as Dox took a moment to finish chewing before continuing.

“She called me… Aunt Dox. And she tried very hard to not say or do anything to change history. To undo her own existence. But her mind was very young, like a child, and she slipped. She let us know certain things. She told her AUNT Rita that our Captain, her grandmother was going to kill her own mother in a blood duel. And that one act would end up destroying her. Leaving Enalia Telvan a broken and changed woman who would eventually commit a form of suicide.”

“But that was changed. During that duel, Rita Paris intervened. She inadvertently killed the Captain’s mother with a phaser set on maximum, stopping the woman from throwing herself on her own sword, which the captain was holding. That sword… was a form of ancient technology that would have swapped the two women’s minds. That was what was supposed to happen.”

“Rita changed that because of Kodi’s warning.” Dox said, looking at Siivas with a bit of a smile. “And because of that, my Captain was still HERSELF, when I was kidnapped months later by the Tal’Shiar. When I was slated to be left there on Romulus where I would have spent years on the run before finally escaping to be left with no career options left in Starfleet. Where I would have become the drunk pirate Captain that Kodi remembered growing up.”

“But now… I had my real Captain in control of her own mind. And she and Rita did what wouldn’t have originally happened. They were there to rescue me where I wasn’t supposed to be rescued. They changed my fate.” Dox finished with a nod, taking a sip of her coffee as she did.

“Fate is a thing, but it isn’t set in stone. We CAN change our fate. And you have two things that the version of you that died in my timeline didn’t. You know what happened to that Siivas. And you have her. ME. To always be a… what’s the phrase... a monkey wrench.”

“You say that I’M good for Char. The version of me that’s a part of your crew. But so are you, Siivas. And I know what happened to my Char after she lost you. But that’s an entirely different timeline. What happens in THIS timeline is entirely up to you. To ALL of you. You can make it better.”

“Well, and there’s that whole ‘I have no desire to sacrifice my life for the greater good if it can be avoided’ thing. Selfish, I know, but that’s just me,” Siivas grinned, then his mein became more serious. “You have done a great service to me and mine, Mnhe’sahe Dox of another universe, another time, another place. Although you may never be able to collect on it, the Deltan people owe you a great debt. I will take steps to ensure that Sickbay need not die by fire, and every day that passes after that, will be a gift from you. I will never forget this gift you have given us, and I swear to make the most of it.”

While the paternally smiling bald-pated physician’s tone was often light, almost flippant, in this case, his sincerity was genuine, and his words carried the gravitas of one to whom such proclamations were quite serious indeed.

“Well…” Dox replied with a bit of a smile, feeling a bit better for the talk and the meal, “If the Deltan people ever feel the need to pay on that debt in any way, you have your own Dox that can accept it for me.”

“But in all seriousness…” she continued, fidgeting slightly with her coffee as she looked down for a moment. “It means… maybe more than I can express in words to be able to do anything for you all here. I… may only have known my Charybdis for a short while, but… what she means to me I cannot explain, really. So, you are very welcome, Siivas.”

“The fact that a version of me ended up here, by her side, means something. Of that, I have no doubt.” And… maybe I need to tell her all of this. Clear the air before my time here is up.”

The look on the telepathic physician’s face was clear- he didn’t have to say a word. Of course you do. She needs to know as much as you need to tell her. Aloud, he spoke softly.

“Charybdis is a unique being... an aggregate of three different women who came together to form a cohesive whole, driven by more willpower than I have seen in multiple generations.” Having said that, the wily wiseman wiggled his eyebrows at Dox playfully. “You know her fate, don’t you? You know what she plans to do, and what her place in history is destined to be, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Dox said, taking on a solemn tone as she thought of Char’s parting gift to her that she kept in her quarters back on the Hera. “In my time… it was undone. Romulus is still whole physically, but… perhaps more broken than ever.”

“The Firebird will reignite the Romulan people, and they will reclaim their honor amongst the stars. She’ll likely be old and canny by then, but I know she’ll be up for the task. And, fates willing, we will have prepared her for it. I know I will do my part.” Rising from his chair, the Deltan doctor stifled a yawn and patted his lover on the shoulder. “Let’s get off to bed, and let our guest do the same. I believe Qurka is about to offer you some company so you needn’t toss and turn alone,” Siivas said as Qurka shot him a dirty look.

“You ruin all my best fun, old man,” the Klingon glamazon pouted comically.

“Just the moments at other’s expense, dear Qurka. Come, t’lann of mine... let’s adjourn and leave Qurka one last chance for harassment, shall we?” As Andurean rose, both men, in unison, bowed deeply as the emerald-skinned Kolari intoned in his deep and resonant voice.

“You have done a great service for clan Velth, and we never forget such things, Should you ever have need, invoke my name and inform the party involved that you are owed a blood debt by Andurean Velth, and they will honor that debt. It is a life for a life, bear in mind. But should you have need, it is mine to give, to honor your gift of life to myself... and those for whom I care.”

“My own honor would demand no less, Andurean. Thank you.” Dox said, standing to offer the Orion man a deep and respectful bow. “Thank you all, really.”

Then, she sighed and let out another yawn. “And I think… I will be heading to bed. Once I find out from Lieutenant Tivri where it is.”

It was alarming how quickly Qurka Qurg was on her feet and had an arm through that of the shorter woman. “I’ll take you!”

Rolling her eyes, Dox hung her head slightly, too tired to fight at this point and desperately hoping the amorous Klingon temptress was still just messing with her, as she replied with a light smirk. “MY quarters, Qurka. Not yours. Where I really need to actually sleep.”

“That’s what I meant, silly,” Qurka responded, moving toward the door and somewhat dragging the smaller woman along as if she were not resisting. Or weighing any noticeable amount, for that matter. “I’ll take you to the VIP guest quarters down on Deck 8 where Char put you up right next door to me. So I’d be right nearby should you get cold or lonely,”

“Of course. Right next to your quarters. I’ll have to thank Char for that.” Dox said, shaking her head and blushing that particular shade of green that Qurka apparently found intriguing.

“And thank you.” she finished, wishing she had skipped that glass of bloodwine as there was a small part of her lonely enough and tired enough to half want to take Qurka up on her challenge. It was a small enough part to be noticeable, and Dox felt more than a little shame for the thought.

Leaning down to put her head on top of the short Romulan girls crimson curls, Qurka Qurg sighed.

“I’d break you.”

To Be Continued…

As Enalia popped into existence in yet another reality, she realized two things.

First, she was still around a foot off the ground.

Second, she was aboard the Hera in the lower decks - one of the observation lounges, if she wasn’t mistaken.

As the gravity plating took over and she thumped to the deck, somehow keeping her feet, she adjusted her uniform and glanced around, noticing a sleeping male Trill Ensign at one of the tables with several PaDDs in front of him. Since he didn’t seem to have woken up, she decided not to worry about him just yet.

She assumed her counterpart in this universe would be close by so she thought it best to at least act casual for now and check to see where this universe’s Enalia was.

However, when the computer denied her access and she had to log in with a backdoor account, she was mildly surprised. Even more surprised when she pulled up her counterpart’s records to find out that she’d been killed in action in space combat against her own mother during the Tribunal. The Telvan symbiont had been passed on, but she as the host had been laid to rest as she had wished - fired into a nearby sun.

With a shudder, she realized that she was lucky that she hadn’t appeared inside of that sun and wondered just why she was on the Hera. Then another thought occurred to her as she punched up a search of the name Telvan.

Up came the record of the young man drooling on the table behind her. A young man of barely 23 working in stellar cartography as a data entry officer. With short, slightly scruffy sandy blonde hair and a somewhat round, boyish face, his name was Donim. A year ago, it was Donim Tamel, but now it was Donim Telvan.

According to the records, there was no time to return to the homeworld for the transfer as her death in battle… still a difficult concept to wrap her head around… had been traumatic for the poor Telvan Symbiote. And Donim, it turned out, was the only other Trill on the Hera.

But Enalia couldn’t take any more time to ponder the issue as the young man bolted up in his seat muttering, “Directive 010: "Before engaging alien species in battle, any and all attempts to make first contact and achieve nonmilitary resolution must be made."

Blinking for a moment and wiping the drool off his chin with his blue sciences sleeve, he had clearly been studying Starfleet regulations fairly intensely before passing out. It only took a few seconds before he turned and noticed he was being watched, and his eyebrows knitted and he sighed. “Damn… okay. Wake up. Time to wake up.”

With a hint of a smile and not entirely sure of why or what she was doing, Enalia slipped into the chair across from the young man. “Hey. If you’re waking up, what do you say to a cup of coffee? I could use one myself.”

The young ensign slapped his cheeks, blinking a few times as he pulled back his chair a bit. “This… this is… wait, what? Is this real?”

“It’s a long story, but yeah. Thanks to an accident and me being dumped into your universe for a short while, we get to have a chat.” The spotted captain did her best to be congenial but inside she was starting to wonder if she shouldn’t have tried to hide for this leap and avoided the poor guy. “So do we get to have a civilized discourse or are you going to call security so I can spend the rest of my time in your universe in the brig?”

There was a moment of silence as the young man pursed his lips and looked Enalia up and down, processing. “This is some kind of… dimensional incursion? You’re me... HER… us? Sorry. This is a little confusing. Well… confusing to half of me, at least.”

“Wait? The White Rabbit? Is this something to do with her?” Domin said, with a slightly confused expression as the young trill worked its way through the memories he had inherited from the symbiote inside him.

Enalia shook her head and stood, heading to the replicator and punching in an order of two coffees and a plate of teacakes as she explained. “The White Rabbit could probably do something like this, but no not this time unfortunately. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a hand in guiding me to the places I ended up...”

“No, this time it’s some experimental dimension hopping particle Dox has been hanging onto for some reason. Bulikaya or something. If your Dox has it, I’d recommend making sure time travellers from the future don’t try and steal it.” As the replicator finished, she gathered up the mugs and plate and carried them over to their table, sitting back down as she offered Donim one of the mugs and set the plate between them.

“Commander Dox? Uh… I’ll ask.” Domin said, glancing down at the offered mug and plate. “She’s been… trying to help me get some skill back with a sword. Turns out that knowing how to do something and having the muscle memory are… two very different things.”

“Kind of like having taste buds that like tea.” he said, looking at the mug in front of him with a depressed expression. “I LOVE tea, but I also don’t. It’s… frustrating. It’s all so… damn frustrating.”

In the moment, it was clear that the initial confusion was wearing off, and was being replaced by a level of frustration that Enalia could see might be a near constant for the newly joined young officer.

The older Trill woman chuckled softly. “I understand completely. You’re not sure if it’s you feeling these things or someone else. It’s one of the reasons I went with coffee - I remembered seeing you with a mug of it several times in my universe so I figured it would be safer. I love tea, but...”

Here, Enalia paused a moment to punctuate her point with one of the teacakes, stabbing at the air as if it were a sword. “You are your own person with your own hopes and dreams. The Enalia of this reality is gone. Honor the memories and ideals, sure. Learn from them and grow. But find your own path. Be who you are.”

“Which is now more than who you were before and that’s going to take some time to figure out. Hell, it took me what? Most of my life? Then again my life was a pretty big mess so maybe don’t use it as a benchmark.”

Looking at the offered cup, Donim rolled his eyes slightly and scoffed as he realized that he didn’t even check it’s contents, just negatively assuming it would be tea. “Figures… you were always better.”

“I get it. I can remember how hard it was for you… me… us? But you also had some measure of training. And Telvan had never been joined before, so there was only the one other mind to connect with. This is… different.” Donim said, holding up his left hand. “I’m left handed, and you were… are the opposite. It’s the little things that add up.”

“Walking around the ship that used to be MINE when I now barely have access to half the sections now. Knowing how to run most of the systems but finding my fingers not knowing how to press the buttons right. Walking up and forgetting what plumbing I have.”

“And the looks.” He said, this time with a deep melancholy in his voice. “People who were just MY friends before treat me differently. And your friends… try.”

“Rita is… Rita is Rita. She’s amazingly supportive. She’s always trying to help, but she inherited the ship and it’s responsibilities as Captain. Dox is her First Officer, making her just as busy. She’s… a bit more distant, but she’s trying too. But… sometimes it just makes it so hard to just BE who I am. Who I want to be.”

“Yeah, that part I’m not so familiar with. Realistically, my advice is to not worry about the friends you had in past lives and focus on figuring out who you are now and who you want to be. And if you don’t want the art of the sword beaten into you, that’s perfectly fine. It is good exercise though.” With a sip of her coffee, Enalia motioned towards the scattered PaDDs. “You seem to be studying hard. Are you finally taking the command promotion exams a bit more seriously? Or maybe expanding the scope of your goals?”

“I LIKE Stellar Cartography. I’m a scientist. It’s all I ever wanted to be. I always wanted to be out here where I can SEE it all for myself.” Donim said, still riding that melancholy. “But now… it’s not enough anymore. I didn’t care about rank before. Authority. None of that mattered to me. Now, it’s like this thorn in my side, everything I CAN’T do that I can so clearly remember doing.”

“It’s hard walking into a room and not having anyone care.” He said, nodding and taking a sip of his coffee. “I just want to… matter again. And I can’t do that staring at stars all day. Not knowing how to fight because my body doesn’t have the experience anymore.”

Suddenly, the melancholy was absent as Donim sat up a bit straighter and the timbre of his voice changed ever so slightly, and for the first time in the conversation, Enalia could see herself in the young man. It was becoming clear that the emergency bonding had not resulted in the most ideal bond, and those growing pains would take a while to overcome for both symbiote and host.

“I’m studying to transfer to the command training program. It’s the only thing I can do to even get a fraction of my life back.” He said, sounding very much like Enalia in the moment.

“Then if I may make a suggestion,” the Trill woman from another reality offered as more of a statement than a question. “Go the path of Science Command. With your background and original interests, you should find it not only easier but far more rewarding. Other than that, I expect you’ll do well in Command. You already have the experience and skills. You just need to finish sorting through your own emotions and selves and prove to Starfleet you are who you are.”

“I’m trying.” Donim said, his voice switching back to the more nervous tones from before. “After the joining, I spent three months on Trill with a docent who tried to get me through the worst of it, when everything was just… chaos. But… we weren’t really compatible. We still struggle. I have your memories, but sometimes, it’s like trying to read a different language and sometimes it makes everything I should know just seem alien.”

“I know I’m Donim. I’m not you. I’m not Enalia. I’m not an… Artan princess. I’m not married to Maica anymore. No castle or fortress.” Donim said. “All I have is this career, and even that hurts half the time. Hearing ‘Ensign’ all day long feels like an insult now when I used to be so proud of that rank.”

“I’m sorry. I should be better than this.” He added, getting angry at himself as he looked away. “YOU’RE better than this. But I’M not. Telvan deserved better.”


Enalia couldn’t help but chuckle softly and reach out to rest one hand on the young man’s hand. “If the White Rabbit did have a hand in which realities I was sent to, I think I know why now. You’re right in one regard. You’re not Enalia. Neither are you just Donim anymore. You’re Telvan. You’ve started a new life with all the wonders and opportunities it has available to it. Sure it feels like you’re starting over from zero... But you’re not. That’s the part you’re missing.”

“Each of us is more than the sum of our parts and as a joined Trill you are now more than the multiplied sum of yourself and everyone that came before you. You are the culmination of lifetimes of experiences, hopes, dreams... The symbiote’s own initial memories, my own... And now it’s your turn to add to that in whatever way you deem fit. You are Telvan. You’ll find your way.”

“Not yet.” He replied, a slightly forced smile as he looked at the stack of PaDD’s. “But… maybe I will be with a little time. It’s hard… but maybe someday. I just have to keep trying, I suppose.”

“Nothing worth doing is ever easy,” Enalia replied with that lopsided piratical grin of hers.

“No… I suppose not…” Donim said, shrugging as he took another sip of his coffee before looking back up at the woman that a part of him used to be. “Thanks, I… uh… you’re… shimmering a bit?”

Furrowing her brow, the Trill woman stood and looked herself over. “Looks like this visit was around... Thirty two minutes? I wonder where I’ll end up next...” She’d find out soon enough as the blue shimmer effect took her from this universe and on to her next.

Sitting there, looking at the empty chair where Enalia had just been, Donim blinked for a few moments. Then, quietly, he picked up the dishes and returned them to the replicator for reclamation. Grabbing his padds, the young joined Trill headed back to the small quarters he shared with another crewmember as his mind fixed on a single thought.

Tomorrow will be a new day. He thought, relaxing his mind and feeling the bond just a little more strongly in the moment. Tomorrow, we’re Telvan again. And we’ll be better.

On Deck 8 of the Refit Constitution Class Starship, the U.S.S. Victory, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox of the U.S.S. Hera couldn’t sleep for very long. The glass of Bloodwine combined with the exhaustion of her dimensional leaps made it easy enough to fall asleep, but after a few hours, she had found herself awake and staring at the chamber she had been assigned.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed in her VIP quarters, the redheaded Romulan woman couldn’t help but compare it to her quarters back on the Hera, which had to be easily three or four times larger. Honestly, the chamber seemed to be only about the same size as her junior officer quarters from when she first arrived on the Hera.

“Computer, Lights…” She called out purely out of habit before she remembered that it was the year 2286 and the Constitution Class refit wasn’t quite that advanced as she tapped the control pad next to the bed, turning the lights up. On the small readout next to that same button, she saw that it was 0530. Even in a different universe, one hundred and eleven years in the past, her internal clock worked just fine.

She had been sitting in the bed, awake, for a solid hour and a half thinking about where she was and what she was going to do with the time left before the Bulukiya particles inside of her pulled her away, either to home or another timeline. Even now, the whale probe headed to Earth as Kirk and the Enterprise crew hurtled to the past to kidnap George and Gracie, who would save mankind.

But for now, she was here on the Victory, and according to the small monitor that Siivas had given her, she would be here still for the better part of another day. Another day on the ship where a version of her that had become lost in time had found a new home and a purpose.

Cleaning herself up in the small refresher, a quick sonic shower felt good but the isolation was starting to get heavy as she looked over the changes of clothes that had been made available to her. Captain Charybdis MacGregor knew her version of Dox well, and knew both women had taken to jogging at 0600 hours, semi-religiously. Next to the freshly re-laundered uniform that was neatly folded on the small dresser, was a pair of white running shoes, Black workout pants and a black T-Shirt. In the center of the shirt, in gold letters was the word ’VICTORY’.

Under her uniform, was the small, folded photograph she had been given by an alternate version of her father that she had met.

With a slight smile, she slipped the outfit on and began to stretch. She knew full well it might be awkward to be running around the deck of the Victory looking very much like her counterpart, who was the ship’s second officer, but also knew that the idea had been Char’s. A good way to talk to her other self and clear the air, and Dox couldn’t help but agree.

There had been a palpable tension between the two women since Dox appeared on the bridge of the Victory, and the Romulan pilot wanted it to end before she left. As she finished tying her running sneakers, she went to reach for her commbadge. Then she remembered she had given it to another version of herself. The battered and damaged terrorist that she had met on Romulus.

Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair and walked over to the door, turning off the room lights as the door wooshed open. Much to her surprise, standing outside with her hand an inch away from pressing the door chime, was Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox. Helmsman and Second officer of the U.S.S Victory.

“Heh.” The Victory’s Dox chuckled as she shook her head slightly and smiled. “I suppose it figures. I never stopped running after I found myself here, and you obviously still do as well. Perhaps you’d care for a partner this morning.”

“In truth, I was hoping to run into you. Char said you run every morning on the outer ring. F Deck?”

“Deck Six.”

“I thought on the manifest they list-”

“Deck Six. Sickbay. The only unbroken ring all the way round the saucer section. Numbered decks, not the alphabetical. Figured you’d want to know,” the Victory’s Dox nodded, the high ponytail bobbing as she spoke.

“Ahh, thanks. I was hoping we could talk, while you were off duty. No… formal dinners or pressure.” The Hera’s Dox said as she stepped out into the corridor. Standing there, she smiled as her counterpart was wearing the exact same outfit, but in that it was easier to see that in just over a year, both women had changed ever so slightly.

It wasn’t just that the Victory’s Dox kept her curly, auburn hair long, which this morning, was up in a high ponytail. There were other little differences as they stretched, beginning to walk down the corridor to the turbolift. The Victory’s Second Officer was just a little thicker overall. A little softer. She still clearly worked out, but it was also clear that she didn’t look to put nearly the same amount of intensity in that the Hera’s Dox did.

“Well, then it’s fortunate that we both still have the same morning rituals… more or less.” The Victory’s Dox said as they stepped into the lift. Turning the handle, the lift moved the single level before they arrived at the widest level of the ship where they could run. Stepping out, the corridor was empty as far as they could see, and the Victory’s Dox took the moment to look her dimensional hopping counterpart over for a moment.

Her middle was a bit thinner. Her hips just a bit narrower. Even her face was a bit thinner in the cheeks. But the biggest difference was the arms. Looking at her double who wasn’t quite identical anymore, the Victory’s pilot raised an eyebrow. Her arms were much tighter. Much more defined and her shoulders were a bit broader. “It looks like we have a… somewhat different routine these days, though. Do you still spar with… V’Nus and S’Rina?”

As they started to jog, a light pace at first, clockwise in the ship’s saucer, the Hera’s Dox was slightly taken aback that her counterpart had to pause for a second to think of the names of the Klingon Security sisters. “Every Wednesday and Friday, yes. I also sword train with Enalia three times a week, on top of still working with the security team. Do you spar here? Keep up with your Llaekh-ae'rl?”

It was the name of a particularly lethal form of Romulan Martial Arts that both women began learning in their early childhoods. “Yes. Usually once a week. Sometimes not that often if we’re busy. Now I have plenty of other concerns that keep me busy.”

“Such as?” The Hera’s Dox asked pointedly.

“You know the specs of a Refit Constitution class. You’ve flown the sims. You’ve studied the consoles. But to be in the position I’m in, means forgetting what you know about isolinear chips and LCARS interfaces and more about duotronics and more manual wiring. I work with the Engineering teams to keep sharp and pick up on what I’ve missed.” she replied as they picked up their pace.

“The Flight Deck is a fraction of the size. Really, it's just the shuttlebay, not the 'flight deck'. 6 Gallileo-Type shuttles. 5 Workbees. Runabouts don’t exist yet, but I’ve got a requisition in for some… innovations. The job of flight chief here is a bit more focused on flying the ship. That job required more math and less ‘feeling’ than the Hera. So I work on my job.”

“Well, you may not have V’Nus and S’Rina to spar with, but it seems like you have at least one Klingon to wrestle with.” The Hera’s Dox said with a grin, changing the subject ever so slightly. “I have to ask. Did you and Qurka Qurg ever…”

Rolling her eyes, the Victory’s Dox chuckled as they passed a very confused looking ensign who almost ran into a partition watching them run by. “Did we have carnal relations? Yes, Mnhei’sahe, we had SEX.” The cheeky redhead waggled her fingers at her uptight counterpart.

“When I first joined the crew, I had my rank of Lieutenant reinstated by Admiral Jones… classified of course. But I was… not in a particularly good headspace, as you can well imagine. Char had reached out to me and offered me a lot of trust. She offered me a PLACE here and while I TOOK it, I didn’t accept it right away. Qurka saw me and saw my personal shields and took it upon herself to crack them.”

“She poked at me. Needled me. Pushed my buttons, because she knew the one thing I needed that Starfleet couldn’t give me. She got me in the gym and she pissed me off one time too many, and I cracked.” The Victory’s Dox said with a bit of a smile. “So, we went at it. We fought. We fought as hard as I ever did with the Security sisters back on the Hera. We fought until we were both bloody and that blood was running… very hot in that moment.”

“You can pretend that she didn’t turn you on all you want, but I know you better than that. She turns me on too, and fighting turned into something… very different but not unwelcome.”

Chuckling slightly, the Hera’s Dox listened as they continued to run, pacing up a bit faster again. “So, did she… how did she put it… break you?”

“Heh. She broke my nose. She broke my collarbone and a rib. But I gave as good as I got. Cracked her jaw, two ribs and dislocated her shoulder. But that was… the fun kind of breaking. Siivas patched us up and we went at it a couple more times in those first few weeks.” She replied as they continued.

“I learned a lot about myself in those first few weeks. I learned how to relax a bit, for a start.” She said, looking at her counterpart with a raised eyebrow. “I made a good friend in the strangest way possible. It was passion and lust and fun, but it wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t love in that way, but that was okay. THAT was a very hard lesson to wrap my head around, but she helped me with that and we both moved on.”

“And… Lieutenant Valin?” The Hera’s Dox asked. But as she did, her counterpart stopped short and glared at her.

“What do you want to know? You want to know that I found someone in her that understood me here. Someone who needed me as much as I needed her? Say what you want to say!” She asked, pointedly with a bit of defensive anger in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push your buttons. And I’m not judging you. I can see that you’re happy. I can see how she looks at you and how defensively she looks at me, which tells me how she feels about you, and I’m glad. I really am.” The Hera’s Dox said as she reached across the corridor to put her hand on the other Dox’s shoulder. But before she could, her counterpart jerked back hard to avoid it.

“I’m… what’s wrong?” Was the reply, with a look of concern on her face. “This… is not my first leap and I’ve touched a couple of my counterparts. Hell, a few punched me. There's not going to be any paradoxes or anything.”

“Have any of them spent the better part of a year training with a Delatan Telepath more skilled than Sonak?” Was the reply as she held up her hands in a mock surrender gesture. “I’ve been able to open up a mild degree of ability that I didn’t have when we went in different paths. Nothing even close to Char or Siivas. But they can talk to me directly from pretty much anywhere on the ship as needed. I can call them if I try. I can initiate something of a… mild form of a mind-meld with touch.”

“Most people, it takes a massive amount of effort. Serious concentration and a headache that rivals the worst hangover’s we’ve ever had afterwards. But I… don’t want to chance it with you. For all intents and purposes, we’re the same person on a neurological level. I doubt that I would have to even try to get in if we touched since, as it is, I've been getting flashes of emotion whenever we're this close off of you. So please… just don’t.” The Victory’s Dox said, looking her counterpart in the eye.

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to since we first talked. I see you. I see that bracelet that means you and Mona are still… still together. I… I wanted to touch that and… FEEL that again. I just wanted a taste. A TASTE of what I lost.” She continued, pain in her eyes. “I KNOW you KNOW that feeling. Where you will do almost anything for one more taste. It… it felt the same to me when I look at you. Like taking that drink to make myself not care about hating myself just for that moment. And I CAN’T. I CAN’T do that to myself anymore!”

“That’s how Jessica and I found each other. We both have that… that same weakness. That same need to numb the world and to not feel guilty for our pain. We both went to the same places to satisfy that need. So, together, we helped each other. We fight it and some days are harder than others, but it’s been good for a while. Neither of us have slipped in months. But then you show up, and show me EVERYTHING I lost. I could feel it again with just a touch. But then, all those scars would just slide open and… I don’t want to ruin this. What I’m building here. Not for a Kreldanni memory, no matter how good.”

The exchange was exactly the opposite of what the Hera’s Dox was hoping for. She didn’t want to make her counterpart more upset, but she was beginning to fear that she was making things far worse. “Look… I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am.”

“When… when I say that I’m happy for what you found… I mean it. I…” The Hera’s Dox looked across, eyebrows knitted. “I’m… honestly... jealous.”

“What in Areinnye are you talking about?” The Victory’s Dox shot back across the corridor.

“I… look at what you have here. All of it… and I… can’t help myself. It’s envy. You… you just seem to FIT here.” The Hera’s Dox said, hesitantly. “I think about it and… back on the Hera, for everything I DO have, all I can think about is what I don’t. I don’t have the entire ship worrying about how I feel. I have… Thex having assigned Gavarus to work the flight deck so she didn’t have to deal with me directly. I have… half the flight crew either annoyed with how I run things or still just... scared of me.”

As her counterpart looked across the corridor with a confused expression, the Hera’s Dox continued. “You have friends here. I… think I just have co-workers. I have some people who respect my abilities. Or who see things they want to make of me. But really… very few people who seem to care beyond that. And… I’ve been… being dismissive of you because of that. Because… I find myself wishing that I had what you have here. You… found a real home. A real family.”

“And you still have Mona. You still have Rita and Enalia. You still have our Mother.” The Victory’s Dox said, trying to understand her counterpart. “Don’t discount those things. There are days where I’d… where I’d kill to have that all back. And I hate myself for feeling like that, but it’s true. But… for me, that’s all gone. Those are just memories and I needed to at least try and come to grips with that to find any happiness. But I at least can really understand how Rita felt, removed from everything she knew. With everyone she knew long dead.”

“ I just… have a different problem. Most everyone I know hasn’t been born yet. But fate willing, they will. And fate willing, I’ll… still be alive when that happens. I’m… not looking forward to that idea.” The Victory’s Dox admitted as she straightened back up and looked her counterpart over again. “And… I feel beyond guilty for this, but I still miss Mona. I miss her a lot. But I'll be 107 years old when Mona is BORN here. I can't keep holding on to that and pretend to move on. That’s not fair to Jessica.”

“And worse.” The Victory’s Dox said, a tear in her eye. “Because as much as I still miss Mona… I miss her a little less every day. And… and I feel guilty for… for caring about Jessica. I feel guilty for being happy, and that… that just gnaws at me. Especially with you here, now.”

“But I do. I... care Jessica. It’s different. There’s no bond linking us. I don’t… feel her energy inside of me like I did with Mona. But in that difference, there’s… such amazing, beautiful wonder.” She continued, wiping her face clean. “We can’t… make up by touching and letting us just feel our feelings. We have to work things out the old fashioned way.”

A broad smile graced her lips as she nodded. “We fight and we argue. We… don’t ever know what to do about dinner. She complains if I throw my duty jacket on the bed sometimes. And we sometimes spend more time getting angry for each other than we maybe should. But… I love that. I love all of that. I love the messy, painful, difficult... love. I don’t have an out to tell me it’s real. I have to BELIEVE it’s real. And… and that has been important for me in ways that it’s hard to describe. And it took me a while to come to terms with the idea that… ultimately… I can’t believe Mona would have wanted me to pine for her for the rest of my life and deny myself any chance at happiness. That wasn’t who she was.”

“And besides… by the time she’s even BORN here… I’ll be… 107. Holding on to that isn’t fair for either of us. She’ll have every opportunity to find the me that will be born here in 2364.” The Victory’s Dox added with a light, if slightly forced, smile.

“But… I think it’s why I’ve been able to find happiness here. Because… I had to TRY. I had to get past my old insecurities and force myself to be better. Stronger. More open. Jessica Valin did that for me. Qurka Qurg forced me out of my pathetic comfort zone of shutting people out. Charybdis showed me a life where I could make the hard choice to keep both feet in the here and now. Siivas showed me that I’m more than the boundaries other people would keep me in.”

“I know all of this, but….” The Victory’s Dox said, tugging on her t-shirt with a smile. “Thank you for reminding me of it. And of admitting what you did. I know how difficult that had to be. I mean, I know you better than not, after all.”

Stepping across the corridor, the Victory’s Dox looked over to her counterpart still leaning back against the angled wall of the corridor and held out a hand to help her back up. “And thank you for also reminding me that I’M in control of my life here. And that just because I CAN take the easy way out and choose to wallow in self-pity. I can also choose to be strong. I can put the bottle down without taking a drink.”

Hesitating for just a moment, the Hera’s Dox took her counterpart’s hand and pulled herself back up to standing. In that instant, both women felt exactly what the Victory’s Dox has been afraid of. There's was an almost electric connection as the two minds that shared the same, basic neural layout tried to sync up naturally across the physical connection of their hands. But, in that instance, that connection slammed up against a wall of mental defenses that the Hera’s Dox had never seen before.

In her mind’s eye, the visiting Dox saw NOT the image of her defenses. Of the projection of Mount Selaya on Vulcan. Instead she saw, for just an instant, something not unlike a series of interconnected webs of light spreading out and filling in to become solid and impenetrable. Like the shields of a Starship in the Victory Dox’s mind. The connection was real, but she was choosing NOT to succumb to her desire. To her weakness.

She was picking up the bottle to put it away, not to take a drink. And with a smile, as they let go of each other’s hands standing there, she succeeded.

“So… Let’s start over, because no matter how we may have started, we are our own women. We have our own lives and our own problems.” Smiling, the Second officer of the Victory nodded and jutted her face in the direction they had been running. “Jolan’tru. My name is Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox of the Starship Victory. Want to go for a run and get to know each other?”

Returning a smile that looked much the same but just a little different, the counterpart from a different future replied as they started back running. “Mnhei’sahe… I would like that very much.”

To Be Continued…

Stepping out of the starboard side Turbolift onto the bridge, the Hera’s Dox adjusted her crimson tunic slightly almost out of habit. The cool black railing and the rotunda of screens blinking surrounded the bridge, with workstations busy everywhere. To her right was the viewscreen, which was a good degree smaller than what she was used to. In front of her was the long, curved double workstation facing the main viewer where helm and tactical were positioned.

Closest to her at the tactical station, Lieutenant Jessica Valin went out of her way to not look as she stepped into the doorway of the turbolift. Next to Valin, at the helm, was her own counterpart in that uncomfortable looking turtleneck uniform, who spared her the quickest of glances before returning her focus to her workstation.

Looking behind them, sat Captain Charybdis MacGregor, looking quite commanding and confident, in spite of her late-stage pregnancy. “Permission to board the bridge, Captain?” Dox asked.

Spinning the command chair about precisely, Charybdis regarded the somewhat rested and refreshed officer, whose travels through space and time were coming to an end. Nodding her approval, Charybdis indicated one of the auxiliary stations, next to Science. “Permission granted, Lieutenant Commander. Pull up a station and you’re welcome to watch us at warp.”

“Thank you Captain.” Dox replied with a nod as she stepped over to the indicated station with a slight smile. Logging in, she naturally tapped in her login, then her password was rejected, and a signal came up on the helm control panel. The local Dox sideyed the visitor, who logged in as ‘guest’ and the panel brought up a basic level 1 guest access to the ship’s computer. A minor, but still slightly embarrassing mistake.


As the Victory sped toward her rescue efforts, Lieutenant Tivri spoke up from comms. “Captain, I’m receiving a message... it’s been bounced by some satellites to keep it repeating.”

“Onscreen,” Captain Charybdis ordered, sweeping the holographic displays she was working with off to her starboard side, as a hay communication came through, of an austere humanoid male, with a stenorous voice, in a staticky transmission.

"This is... President of... Grave Warning: Do not approach Planet
Earth... To all Starships, repeat, do not approach!”

A hash of static interrupted the transmission, as all on the bridge leaned forward, listening intently.

“... Orbiting Probe... emits transmissions on energy wave unknown
to us... Wave, directed at our oceans... Ionized our atmosphere...
All power sources have failed.
Starships are powerless...”

A burst of static cut through the transmission, and it appeared to be lost. Tivri didn’t bother to try to boost the signal- this far out, this was an echo of the original transmission. She could no sooner tune it in that she could enhance the video quality.

“... A cloud envelope has enveloped the Planet. Heavy rain and flooding. Temperature dropping to critical level. Planet cannot survive unless Probe is responded to... Probe transmissions dominate all standard channels. Communications may not be possible... Save yourselves. Avoid the Planet Earth... Farewell."

There was silence on the bridge of the Victory, as everyone reacted to the news in their own way, Earth, the seat of the Federation, the heart of Starfleet... was lost.

The reactions were solem and concerned, except for the two Doxes, who remembered their history well enough to know the outcome of the scenario. Silently, the two women looked at each other with pursed lips as the Hera’s Dox mouthed the words, We… can’t say anything about this, can we?

NO, we can’t. I’m not going to say anything. The Victory’s Dox replied, mouthing the words to her counterpart without actually speaking before realizing how obvious they were being in this otherwise solemn moment.

Which was when both women noticed Charybdis, watching both of them with a bemused air.

“Would you care to share with the rest of the bridge, Miss Dox?” she asked, looking first at the visitor, then at the local.

Pursing her lips slightly, the Victory’s Dox nodded slightly as she considered just how big of an alteration this would be to history. When she was interrogated by Admiral Jones, she had to give up a few key historical facts to the man so plans could be enacted to be prepared for the fallout of said events. But here, as she thought about it, she considered that Char knowing what she knew would likely have no real outcome to the current events, depending on what they do.

In point of fact, she knew Char well enough that the woman of action might very well choose to do something different that WOULD alter the history she knew if she didn’t speak. So, as with many of the decisions she had made since joining the Victory, she followed her heart and trusted her intuition.

“Aye, Captain. In my timeline, history has very detailed accounts of this event, as it’s considered a key point in galactic affairs. While the true nature of this probe is never determined, the crew of the former Enterprise… currently in possession of a captured Klingon Bird of Prey redubbed….” The Victory’s Dox paused for a moment, trying to remember the specifics of the lesson she had learned years ago at the academy.

The Hera’s Dox interjected, having brushed up on her history on the actions on the Enterprise crew during this period of history when she was studying diplomacy in preparation for her role as a mediator between the Romulan Senate and their reunification colonies. “The Bounty. They called her the Bounty. 18th century historical and literary reference.”

“Thank you,” Dox’s counterpart offered as she continued. “Then Admiral Kirk and his crew have… as we stand… already performed a successful slingshot maneuver around Sol in order to procure the solution to the scenario. They believed that the Probe’s destructive effects might have been incidental, and possibly even unknown to them as they were attempting to communicate with an extinct species of… whales, I believe. The Bounty’s crew recover two of the animals and return them to this time and avert the crisis. Something that would be occurring very shortly.”

“As such, I believe we can do the most good staying our course and helping the ships that had been left stranded, Captain.” Dox concluded.

The eyebrow rose, and a smile settled onto the face of the pointy-eared captain. Looking from one Dox to the other she nodded, holding her hands aloft to clap politely. “Weighed against our participation in events, level of disturbance determined, risk assessed and decision arrived. With the results of the decision being... trust. Bravo, Miss Dox. It appears in any age, your character is a constant. That’s rather reassuring, somehow.”

“Thank you, Captain.” came the reply in unison from both Dox’s at the same time, which caused them both to blush that specific shade of green that Qurga Qurg liked to see so much.

“Uh… sorry.” The Hera’s Dox said, as her local counterpart finished the thought, “That was... weird.”

The helmsman of the Victory pursed her lips for a moment, as she looked over to the tactical station. She knew Jessica Valin hated all of this. She knew the woman she had grown to love in this time and place couldn’t wait until the alternate version of Dox was simply gone, and a memory to be put aside. And those feelings had no place to go here on the bridge, while on duty, which must’ve been maddening to the tall, dark haired tactician.

It will be okay. I promise., the Victory’s Dox silently mouthed, much more subtly, to her partner. Unlike Mona’s predilection toward public displays of affection with HER Dox back on the Hera, Mnhei’sahe and Valin worked very hard to maintain their professionalism on duty.


The frustrated fighter nodded slightly, practicing her breathing exercises and reviewing a few of her loading drill results of the day, distracting herself from her emotional difficulties with duty. A trait both women shared, and a common ground for them both.

At the command chair, Charybdis tapped the sensors, using them to look for the lone Caitian lifesign on the Victory. Logged in and on duty, Lieutenant Commander Selune was currently sleeping in shuttlecraft 2, the Luna. Her particular favorite, it was parked on the shuttle bay undergoing a level 1 diagnostic of the ship’s main computers, which was to be observed and supervised. But, of course, the process required no input, so it just took 6.2 hours of boredom... which the solitary Caitian used for an excuse for a catnap in a shuttlecraft.



Some things never changed.

Some experimental shield modulations from the Vulcan Science Academy were providing some interesting results on the Bulukiya Flu model Siivas had constructed, indicating the stakes and drawing in resources from across Starfleet to help. The last ditch resort would be to sacrifice Spotty to the heart of a sun. But if there was any way to save the brilliant Trill engineer whose structural integrity forcefields had already revolutionized starship design, the crew of the Victory would find it.

The children within her would be born on Earth, and be legitimate citizens of the Federation. No one would be able to take that away from them, and Romulus would have no claim upon them. If she accomplished nothing else, she was determined in this. Now she had a fighting chance to have Siivas there to help her through it, and her mind and heart would both be greatly at ease.

Entering the bridge from the turbolift, a white-haired human with a somewhat trimmed beard and white hair slicked back into a ponytail bearing a Lieutenant’s insignia moved to relieve the officer at the science station, then stopped, the other officer from leaving.

“Hold up, I’m not relieving you yet, dude. You, you’re her, the other Dox, right? From an alternate dimension?” The blue eyes of the blue-turtlenecked science officer seemed a bit manic to the eyes of the one-time smuggler as he looked between the one sitting beside the science station in a very different uniform, then back to the one at the helm. Then back and forth again about six times, each more slowly than the last.

“Yyyyyeeees, I’m her.” The Hera’s Dox said with a slightly confused smirk. “Can… I help you?”

“Oh man, yeah!” the excitable human, who stood nearly a head taller than Dox, was clearly flabbergasted by her lack of comprehension of events. “We gotta get some, like detailed scans of you and stuff. Yeah, I know Sickbay got scans, but like, these are some deep scans looking for particular stuff, y’know? Hey captain, can I, like, make off with our visitor for some scans in lab 13? Might be a good idea, y’know?”

Between the odd, seemingly absent-minded demeanor and the somewhat manic delivery, Dox was wondering what this character was doing on the starship at all, forget about on the bridge. So it was quite a surprise when Charybdis nodded in their direction.

“Good idea, Mr. Carlow. Coordinate with sickbay to establish your baseline data and interface with the Bulukiya Flu issue.. If Miss Dox can help us solve that while she’s here as well, I wouldn’t object.” The Cheschire Captain lived up to her name, a wide and toothy smile settling onto her face. Above all, at least for Dox, was the trust that the woman effortlessly placed in the man, who seemingly was the last one you’d expect.

More than a bit confused, the Hera’s Dox at least understood the importance of solving the issue of the Bulukiya Flu issue that, in her own timeline, led to the death’s of the Victory’s entire medical team. And as she thought about it, she realized that she herself still had those particles running throughout her and didn’t want to risk bringing anything back to the Hera if and when she returned home. “Very well. Lead the way then, Mr. Carlow.”

“Right... yeah, cool.” the white-haired Lieutenant stared at her for a few seconds, whether lost in thought or in a fugue state Dox couldn’t be certain, then his fingers raced across the science station panel, programming or activating systems. In truth, it would be hard to tell if she got a good look at it. Technology this old wasn’t always intuitive, after all.

“So, like, don’t move, okay?” Carlow said as the transporter effect began to take hold, and Dox was surprised at how long she saw the shimmer of blue before she rematerialized in the same sparkle shower, but in a seat about an inch from her ass, which the gravity plane of the starship provided for her.

Looking around, they appeared to be in a conspiracy theorist slash inventor’s hidey hole. Shelves lined the room, covered in various half-assembled or disassembled projects. A whiteboard covered in scribbles on one wall seemed to be somewhat functional, as well as an actual chalkboard, which was an odd anachronism to found, complete with chalk. But apparently the Victory had a mad scientist, and he had just site to site transported them from the bridge to his laboratory.

“Cool, right? See, I use the ship’s internal sensors to scan the person or object, then beam them, not to the pad, but to a secondary location while they’re still in the buffer! Chief Fingerman hates when I do it, but we can, so why don’t we, right?” Suddenly realizing introductions were in order, he held out his hand, and in a surprisingly familiar Romulan dialect said, “I’m Fred Carlow, of Earth, 20th century. Jolan tru.”

Of course, site to site transports were commonplace in her own time, but in the here and now, it was a much more elaborate procedure and it would have been rude and dismissive to make a point of that. But that was secondary to how well he had just spoken her mother tongue.

Returning the handshake, Dox nodded and replied. “Jolan tru. My name is Mnhei’sahe Dox. From about a year removed, from when the Dox of this ship arrived in this time.”

Then, the redheaded Romulan, still speaking her own language, raised an eyebrow as she processed the rest of what Carlow had just said. “Wait… you’re from… the 20th century?”

“Yeah, it was really cool. I was an astronaut in a private R&D project, and they shot me into space because I’m inventive and adaptable, yannow? Gamer,” The human had switched back to Federation standard quite smoothly, and was picking up a multicolored cube whose components rotated, and he began absently twisting and changing the faces in his hands as he spoke. “My ship veered off course, I put myself into cryo and when they found me and woke me up... Buck Rogers, amirite?” The human with the blue eyes and the unfocused gaze looked up at Dox with a smile she now recognized as nervous. The smile of someone who understands concepts most don’t, but to whom people would forever be a mystery.

Unfamiliar with the reference, Dox nonetheless understood the core idea and nodded as she returned to Federation standard. “Of all the ways to end up in a different era, that’s probably the more normal I’ve come across. How… if you don’t mind my asking… did you end up here on the Hera?”

“Hera?” He turned his head to the side like a cocker spaniel, then shook his head. “No, dude, this is the USS Victory. We’re in the year 2286. It’s cool to be disoriented and junk with all the bopping around you’ve been doing. It’s wild, isn’t it? I saw myself in a bunch of my old haunts in Ybor and one where I was a caregiver for my mom, and in one I was in a biker gang. That was a cool dude, that Fat Freddie.”

With that, Carlow began nodding, staring off into space, clearly lost in reverie.

For a moment, Dox was legitimately embarrassed by her mistake, but in truth, Carlow was right regarding just how disorienting her experiences had been. “You’re right, of course. I apologize. I’ve… not had a full nights sleep until last night. I tried to nap in one timeline but leapt as I was falling asleep. And in one, I was knocked unconscious by a somewhat… disturbing version of me. I almost wish I could have functionally stayed awake this whole time as… waking up in the wrong timeline seems to make it more… confusing… overall.”

“So, this happened to a few of you here on the Victory?” Dox asked, figuring that the flighty human had either forgotten her earlier question or didn’t want to answer it. And as she wasn’t sure which, she didn’t press the issue.

“Oh yeah sure. Bulukiya himself did make it back- he was dead, but his corpse finished the trip. Cap’n was closest and she hopped through more than most of us, except maybe Valin. It was... it enlightened her, but she doesn’t talk about the last few jumps. They were... like, really hard for her, y’know?” In that moment Dox placed his Romulan accent- she spoke with the exact same dialect as Charybdis, and did it like a native.

“So hey, like, lemme take some readings, maybe we might learn somethin. I heard Sickbay might have a problem with the particle soon, so we better save Spotty, right?” the odd scientist- assuming he was a scientist- grabbed an old-style tricorder that was somewhere between the classic deco styling of Rita’s era and the modern bland esthetic and powered it on, a cheerful little tune greeting him from the device as he did so.

“Siivas scanned me pretty thoroughly in sickbay.” Dox said, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. She trusted Char and if Char trusted Carlow, that should’ve been enough, but she had questions and she wasn’t asking them.

“So… earlier… I slipped up on the ship name, but the same basic question applies. How did you end up on the Victory? And… how is it you speak better Romulan than anyone I’ve even met not from the Hearthworlds. Hnave… you accent is cleaner than mine. Dartha provence… Just like Char.”

“Oh, that? We swapped bodies once for a day,” Carlow explained with a cheesy grin. that oddly did not have a lecherous component to it that one might expect. “While I was in there it was crazy. Like, I can recall everything that happened that day, like, perfectly. Plus the Captain’s super telepathic, right? So while we were asleep, we really learned a lot about each other. Once of the things I learned is Romulan, from her. So yeah, I probably sound like a local. Sorry, I thought talking to you in Romulan might make you less weirded out- my bad.” Carlow was looking at the readings, but continued talking as he did so.

“Well, I didn’t do so great at the Academy because I don’t, y’know, deal well with rules and structure and junk. So they were either going to keep me at Command or ship me off with somebody as a punishment to them.” Carlow made eye contact and grinned at that. “T’vyn was put here as a spy, still reports in. Tivri’s a clone, but don’t tell her, she doesn’t know. Siivas is a leader in a cabal straddling worlds that’s trying to save the future. Maur Weaver’s trying to drink himself to death off duty or work himself to death on duty. Andurean is still an assassin for the Velth tribe of the Orions, that call themselves the Kolari. Qurka used to be a man. We’re a ship of secrets, the Victory. We all came here different ways, for different reasons.”

A ship of secrets, crewed by a family built out of people that might not fit anywhere else. THAT certainly seems familiar. Dox thought as she listened with the hint of a smile on her face.

“Charybdis... the captain.... She’s like a lightning rod for stuff like this. My angel calls her ‘the coming storm’, because she says there’s this big thing Char’s supposed to do that’ll change everything, and she says I should trust her and help her. So far,” Carlow finished his scans and looked at them as he continued speaking, “she’s been right, of course. Me and Char don’t always see eye to eye and I frustrate her a lot, but I know she cares about me... about all of us. She thinks she’s here to protect the Federation and to bring honor back to her people somehow. I don’t know how she’ll do it... but like pretty much everybody else on this starship, I believe in her, yannow? She believes in the good in the universe, in what’s right. She’s proven she’ll do whatever it takes to protect us, and the Federation.”

“She killed other Romulans, didya know that?” Carlow’s tone dropped to a conspiratorial one. “Battle of Starbase 23, Klingon dagger in her heart and she saw three warbirds uncloaking. Didn’t even wait for Valin for firing resolutions- overrode and did it herself, blew two of them away before their shields could come online. That’s what they get for a showy decloaking, right? Talked smack to the surviving Romulan commander and sent her on her way, so she could tell the Hearthworld, tell them all what happened when you came after Char’s ship and crew. Not counting the assassins Andurean has caught trying to come aboard to kill her that he hasn’t told her about. Whoops- yeah, don’t mention that either, okay?”

“I… didn’t know about that. About the Battle of Starbase 23. But it explains a bit. That’s… a crime on the Hearthworld that… is not easily washed clean. If at all.” Dox said as she processed everything Carlow had said. “Along with a bit more about why she and my counterpart here connected so well. That… removal from our culture that can’t really be undone. Different reasons, but still.”

“As for the rest, I won’t be telling anything more. I think I’ve told enough secrets here, really.” Dox continued. “And… I apologize for my suspicion. I was… just a bit caught off guard.”

Then she switched back to her own, muddy-accented Romulan. “But I appreciate it. And you making that effort to help. Speaking of which, anything interesting in those readings?”

“Yeah, actually. I ran the particles against a known database of viruses and whatnot, and nothing really exotic popped up. But I had an old algorithm that I used to use to calculate fuel to drive ratio in my old Buick, that seems to be catching on. I shut it down before it got too far, but I'm thinkin maybe it’s not a biological virus, but a technovirus that mutates, like some kinda William Gibson junk, right? I’ll have to do some more experiments, but I’m bettin that’s it. Heh, she’s checkin’ my work. I swear, I know she doesn’t pry but she just KNOWS, y’know?” The unusual astronaut who didn’t belong here, yet somehow fit here perfectly, ran some projections in silence for a moment, apparently collaborating with the captain and Sickbay.

Doing her level best to make her way through Carlow’s eccentric speech patterns and dated references that she had no knowledge of, Dox raised an eyebrow and rubbed an ear as she replied. “So… this is a technovirus? Do you have any idea of how to counter it? I mean… not just for what is supposed to happen here. What I mean is, Is there any possibility that I might carry this thing with me when I return?”

“Sure, always a possibility. I guess just know what you’re looking for and that should help point you to finding a solution, right? That’s what T’vyn says, at least.” Carlow shrugged broadly. “I dunno. But your virus would be different based on the change in the quantum resonance of your reality instead of ours, so any data I’d give ya would be useless. But you got scientists too, right? A Vulcan? They’re so cool, aren’t they?”

“Well… at least I’ll know there’s something to look for.” Dox said, nodding and not feeling that much more comfortable. But Char was working with the seemingly flighty human, which helped a bit.

At that moment a long whistle keened through the compartment, and a cheerful, chipper voice could be heard. “Lieutenant Carlow, please escort our guest to Main Engineering immediately.”

“Oooh, I could beam us there!” Carlow started, excitedly grabbing his tricorder.

“Uh… I suppose. She did say ‘immediately’.” Dox said, somewhat hesitantly. She was never particularly nervous about transporters, but Carlow’s enthusiasm coupled with his seemingly flightly mentality put her a bit on edge in spite of herself.

Surprised by her compliance, he did have the foresight this time to ask her to stand. Scanning the starship for their destination, he programmed in the coordinates. Oh, cool, she’s gonna show you her pet project. She won’t let me near it because she says I’ll ‘human on it’. Okay, here we go- you should arrive facing her, if she’d stop pacing and turn... mnow!”

Before she had a chance to say anything else, Carlow activated the beaming sequence and the telltale shimmer of blue sparkles filled her field of vision and she was gone. It was just a bit slower than she was used to in her own time, but in a few seconds, the criss crossing lines of blue light parted again and she was, again, somewhere else.

To Be Continued...

This time when Enalia appeared the only light came from her own appearance and her eyes had to adjust to the nearly pitch dark of what smelled to be a very well used and musty prison cell. After a few moments her eyes did adjust to a small bit of light that was filtering in through the bars on the door and she was able to see that she was indeed inside of a dirt floored cell with one other occupant, a steel bed, and what looked to be a steel pot for toiletries.

This did not bode well. Especially if she was going to be here for just over an hour.

The air was thick with the smell of waste, bodily odor, mold and something else Enalia faintly recognized. By the bars to the cell, was a mostly empty feeding tray with just enough almost-rotten food in it for the well-traveled Trill to recognize. It was some of the worst smelling Viinerine she had ever smelled, and that realization made her stomach tighten.

Viinerine was a staple of Romulan military and prisons.

From the steel bed, the shape under the filthy rag of a sheet stirred lightly and a gravely voice whispered out. “Go away.”

“I would if I could,” the interdimensional visitor whispered as she kneeled down, doing her best to minimize her presence. “I’m stuck in here, same as you.”

At the voice, the woman in the bed jolted up with a surprise. It was, of course, another version of Enalia. Her face was dirty and her long black hair had a bit of gray in it now, visible in the dim light from the corridor outside the narrow cell. As the other Enalia tilted her head, there were a few visible scars on her once smooth face. “What… what is this? What are you?”

The other Enalia scooched up on the bed, putting her back up against the cold stone wall as she reached down below the bed reaching for her bedpan to use as a makeshift weapon. It was a telling detail of the room that her captors would allow such a thing in arms reach of a woman as dangerous as Enalia generally was, and the uniform-clad woman didn’t like the implications.

The visiting Enalia shook her head and sighed softly. This wasn’t going to be easy, was it? “I’m you from another universe. There was an accident and I’ve been bouncing between realities for a while now.” While that explanation worked with those she met that were reasonable and sane, the look in this version of her’s eyes did not look like she was willing to listen.

“Nooooo…. Noooooo… I don’t believe you.” Came the voice that cracked as if it hadn’t been given call to speak in days if not longer. “You’re trying to trick me. You’re… you’re trying to take me?! You’re another one of THEM! I don’t… NO!”

The woman’s voice was clearly ramping up into full on panic as her eyes went wide. Grabbing the bedpan, she brought it up shakily, but not as a weapon. Slamming it repeatedly against the bars, the other Enalia began to shriek, “HELP!!!! HELP!!!! Please, Help me!!!!”

Enalia sighed once more as she stood back up. She couldn’t very well knock herself out or escape or really, do anything that would help the situation so she just stood there and waited for either the local Enalia to calm down or a guard to come by and see what the noise was about. Honestly, she was expecting the latter.

Seconds later, a somewhat irritated Romulan guard shuffled over to the cell with a bored expression on his face. An expression that changed very rapidly. “What? I’ve told you before not to disturb me, woman.”

The man in the coal gray, quilted uniform and the standard, military cut was speaking in a slightly guttural Romulan as his eyes met Enalia’s and then went wide. Pulling his disruptor and aiming it through the bars, he shouted through. “You there! How… Stand still! Put your arms over your head, turn around and face the wall, NOW!!!!”


Moving slowly, the uniformed and clean Enalia complied, her hands raised over her head, her feet shoulder width apart just in case, and turned to face the wall. “I am complying! Please stay calm! I will explain!” she replied in her own accented Romulan.

“SILENCE!” The guard shouted as he tapped his commbadge and began whispering inaudibly into it. A moment later, Enalia could hear a large number of boots on the cold, stone floor as clearly more guards had come.

“Do not move until you are ordered to, woman.” Said a different, far colder voice she didn’t recognize while, on the cot, her counterpart began to whimper.

“Don’t… don’t let them take me, Centurion. P… Please don’t let them take me.” Came the completely broken voice that, in spite of being the same person, Enalia could barely recognize.

“Fear not, you are safe. We will protect you.” Came the cold voice in reply.

There was a loud clang as the cage door was pulled open and Enalia felt a sharp stink as two, metal prongs pressed into her lower back. “Move, and you will be stunned, woman. And our stun rods are not so gentle as a Starfleet phaser. The station commander would have words with you.”

Another guard came and harshly pulled her arms down, clamping restraints upon them. As the restraints locked, there was a slight sensation of a charge running up her arms that she recognized. But her thoughts were confirmed a moment later.

“A neural disruption field. Step one step back and turn around.” The cold voice said. “Move any faster than a steady walk, and your nervous system will not be pleased with your decision.”

Seeing the room, there were now six additional guards in the corridor and the original guard who came was gone. Stepping back outside the gate, the lead guard stood and eyed Enalia for a moment before speaking to one of the other guards. “Centurion ir-Krath. The Commander wants a complete scan. Remove her communication device and rank insignia. Ensure there are no other transmitters or devices.”

“Aye.” Came the voice of a shorter, but thickly built female guard who pulled out a tricorder-like device and aimed it at Enalia while she stepped over and pulled the Commbadge and pips from her uniform.

“Four pips. A Starfleet Captain? Will wonders never cease.” The head guard said with a bit of a sneer in his voice. “What is your name, Starfleet Captain?”

Without thinking, Enalia started rattling off her Starfleet information. “Captain Enalia Telvan Service number PN-495-8741 AZI. Galaxy PRI Theta One rotational decay 997.”

Immediately, at the sound of her own name, the captive Enalia flinched and put her hands over her ears. Shaking her head, she began to mutter “Nonononononono…”

“Shhhh... “ The head guard said with an almost gentle voice to the prisoner as he smiled lightly towards Enalia. “Interesting. The administrator will certainly want to talk with you.” The head Centurion said with a nod. “Do not speak again until you are spoken to, Starfleet Captain.”


Rather than reply, the visiting Enalia just looked down on her broken local self with a mix of self loathing and pity and nodded, wondering just what had happened to push the woman... to push herself so far past breaking. She just had to survive here for an hour... One hour...

“Step forward into the corridor, and walk as instructed.” The head Centurion said in a calm, measured voice. In the narrow corridor, the lights were dim and wherever they were was damp and cold as the guards broke into groups of three, above and behind, with the main guard walking at the front of the line.

Walking, they passed another few cells, each far too dark to see the occupants within, but the architecture looked ancient. FAR too old to be a modern facility, indicating that this must have been the kind of prison that the Romulan put those they wished to forget.

At the end of the hall, was a slightly more modern lift, but only partially so. It was rusted green and maroon metal and looked like something from closer to Rita Paris’ era than anything current. Loading in, the walls of the lift were plastisteel, which allowed Enalia a glimpse of just what kind of facility they were in as it began to ascend up. By her count, they passed 23 stories, each appearing to be an antiquated, concrete prison structure built deep into the rockface of wherever this was. Wherever it was, she saw no sign of anything approaching natural light.

As the lift stopped, the doors opened into a long corridor of old, dripping pipes and stained concrete walls. Above was a metal grate and there were drainage furloughs in the floor to allow water runoff. At the entrance of the lift and near every break or turn in the labyrinthine tunnel, there were pairs of armed guards in light armor. Walking to the end of the corridor, they approached a set of green double doors with only the words ’Telaet Fvrihai’ upon them: ’Senior Administrator’.

Pressing the older security pad with the palm of his hand, the doors opened and two of the guards directed Enalia into the larger, and decidedly more opulent office. The room was a circular space with a series of bookshelves lining each corner that looked fairly well-read, all things considered. The floor was a shined marble inset with the sigil of the Romulan Empire etched with gold trimming around it. There were two, short backed leather chairs in front of a curved, ornately carved wooden desk. Behind the desk was a large picture window that overlooked a dark, slightly greenish sky with craggy mountains in the background. Wherever they were, it wasn’t Romulus.

Standing in front of the window with a PaDD in hand, was a slightly hippy, older Romulan woman in a greenish-gray uniform. Her hair was a bit longer than the standard military cut and pulled up on the top of her head, a warm grayish brown. Unlike Mnhei’sahe, her grandmother or Jaeih, when she turned, the woman had raised forehead ridges.

“Leave us, Centurions.” The woman said, her voice throaty and deep. With a quick snap of a salute, the head guard lead the others out and the door shut and locked behind them.

“Sit.” The Administrator said terseley without once looking up from her PaDD.

With a further glance around the room, the interdimensional traveler gracefully sat in one of the leather chairs across from the Administrator - the one that was classically afforded to the higher ranked visitor if there were two and had the best view across the desk. With her hands bound behind her it wasn’t the most comfortable chair, but Enalia was good at making uncomfortable look comfortable so she leaned into it and crossed her legs in a practiced mimicry of her first officer’s signature move.

Then, with a stoic look on her face, she waited. After all, the more time this administrator wasted, the more time she survived in this universe - and judging by the look of this office, this woman was another sadist in a mid ranked position and she’d dealt with a few of them in her life.

“Captain Enalia Telvan Service number PN-495-8741 AZI. Galaxy PRI Theta One rotational decay 997”, The Administrator said, looking at the PaDD as she rounded the desk to stand to the side and look Enalia up and down. “How unfortunate for us that we already have one. However, according to these scans, you match the DNA and genetic patterns. How is this possible?”

With a pleasant and almost sickeningly sweet Starfleet smile, Enalia replied as honestly and cheerfully as she could - that was the Starfleet way, after all. “An accident in my own dimension sent me hopping to other dimensions. If you scan my quantum signature, you’ll see that mine doesn’t match hers.”

"I have." She replied, waving her PaDD lightly before setting it on the table. "I did so want to hear the explanation, as it will help us identify the mechanism of that process when we autopsy you, Captain."

"Now, that gives me the how. Tell me the why?" The icy administrator said with a raised eyebrow. "Was your plan to liberate my guest? You have no technological means of escape I or my active sensors can detect."

When she spoke, her eyes went down to the large, metal cuffs as she picked up the PaDD again, pushed a button and showed it to Enalia for a moment so she could see the steady stream of biological scan data flowing into it. Everything from the quantum fluctuation to blood pressure and galvanic skin responses. “So you know not to bother lying, Captain.”

“I’m not prone to lying when the truth will do nicely,” Enalia replied, looking over the data with interest, trying to find the particles responsible for her visit to this reality. “As for why I’m here, it’s completely random. I’ve visited mirror, low ranked, philanthropist, and conqueror versions of myself. I even dueled myself with a sword in one reality. It’s been quite the experience and I don’t entirely recommend it.”

“Hmmm. Fascinating. I will enjoy studying this data.” She said before getting up and beginning to pace behind the chair where Enalia couldn’t see her. “That said, I am being rude. My name is Tialla t’Vask. I am the Administrator of this facility. Since you did not direct your unplanned visit here, I’m sure you have a question or two. Some, I may even be willing to indulge, Captain.”

“I admit that I do have a few curiosities,” the spotted woman replied nodding her head and paying close attention to the data scrolling across the screen. “As I have neither the intention of outwardly interfering in the flow of your reality, nor the capability...”

“As a Pirate Queen, I know of many ways to both break a person and avoid being broken myself, including techniques on how to survive your Neural Extraction Converter.” Here, Enalia raised an eyebrow and glanced over her shoulder at the Romulan woman. “From the looks of it, my local counterpart did not.”

“How refreshing. You didn’t bother asking any of the more banal questions you knew well enough that I couldn’t answer, such as what and where this facility is.” t’Vask said with a slight grin. “Not wasting any time. I can respect that. Instead, it is your ego that has its first question.”

“You see a version of yourself and think… ’I cannot be broken’. And so, your mind immediately goes in search of an answer.” The cold-blooded Romulan woman said as she rounded back to her desk. Looking out the window, she continued. “My Captain Telvan was similarly confident in her will and resistance when she was delivered to me. So very full of fire and rage.”

“She killed THREE of my guards in her first, failed escape attempt, you know?” t’Vask said, sitting down and tenting her fingers on the desk as she met Enalia’s gaze. “She was quite angry, as you might imagine, all things considered of how she arrived here. I’m surprised you were not overtly curious about that, really.”


“By the looks of it, she’s been here around a year, maybe a bit less. The only time I was in Romulan space was about then so I surmised that sometime during the rescue of one of my people, she was unsuccessful.” With a nod to the Administrator, Enalia continued, knowing that her last question was far from answered - the woman had danced around the truth and tried to tell her nothing. “And that was my next question. Was it the fight on the landing pad that she was captured? Did she selflessly stay behind so the rest could escape? Was it some bleeding heart Starfleet ideal like that? Because if it was, I’m selfless, but I’m not sure I’m quite that selfless.”

“Ahhh, the Delevhas Compound in Oh'hayo. I’ve seen the security footage of your admirable performance that day.” t’Vask said with a light smile. “Where you and a team of officers in disguise as Romulan officers and Centurions attempted to liberate your Romulan crewmate. An unofficial, unauthorized action that one might say was the definition of selfless. If one were so inclined.”

“Yes, that was where, but your HOW was a bit more dramatic than that.” Holding up the PaDD, t’Vask pushed a button and the window behind her went blank for a moment, revealed to be a holographic screen. Then, on that screen, security footage of the rescue of Mnhei’sahe Dox on the platform began to play. “I could tell you, but I think you might find this more interesting.”

Pressing a button, the file began to play and for a moment, it had gone as it had before. In the control booth, Thex and Varnok had locked down the access tunnel keeping the phalanx of backup from reaching the landing platform. Sonak and herself were fighting Riov Dalia Rendal’s centurions with Az’Prel and a freed Dox, alongside Jaeih with the crashed Scorpion she had stolen. Then, everything changed.

The young Cardassian that she had since learned was a deep cover sleeper for the Tal’Shiar, a victim of the same Neural Extraction Converter now in Starfleet Custody, turned his weapon on Thex and fired at point blank range. The azure engineer vanished in a screaming streak of green and the revealed traitor opened the access. Dozens of armed and armored guards rushed out and surrounded the survivors, overwhelming them.

In the Melee, Jaeih was killed by Rendal’s blade and Sonak was badly wounded by disruptor fire. As had happened the first time, Rita and the camouflaged Cyclone fighters revealed themselves, attacking the throngs of troops. But this time, with far too many numbers, the Rendal’s forces successfully shot down the two, unmanned fighters. And that was when the Enalia proved herself a selfless Starfleet captain, grabbing Dox and ordering Az’Prel to take the young Romulan woman to Rita’s ship and get them all out before it was too late.

Sitting there, her hands bound, t’Vask’s eyebrow raised and she smirked slightly as she watched Enalia’s blood pressure rise just a bit. On the screen, she watched as Rita, Sonak and Dox only barely escaped while she and Az’Prel were taken. After a few minutes, the screen went dark and the administrator spoke again.

“As you can see… VERY selfless. Starfleet would have been proud if they had ever seen any of this. But officially, you never came here. There was no rescue mission. And they were wholly unwilling to admit to anything that would have caused an intergalactic incident, of course. And you have been my… guest… ever since.” She finished. “Questions?”


“That looks like it went about as badly as initial projections said it could have. In my reality Varnok waited to betray us until our next fight with Rendal in the...” Here Enalia had to look back in her memory for the name of the nebula they were in. “Ah, the Aldeberan nebula, where he copied and dumped almost all our data on protomatter research.”

As she spoke, she did her best to get her heart rate and breathing back at normal rates. “Honestly, with so many security breaches over the years, I have to wonder if Starfleet is intentionally sending us people they suspect are moles intentionally just so we can expose them. The downside is that we have all these security breaches.”

“How very clinical of you, Captain. And a valiant attempt at containing that heart rate. Worthy of Tal’Shiar training at the very least.” t’Vask said with a light smile. “I am in no position to comment on Starfleet policy or your own ship’s clearly poor security screening processes. I can only speak of what I know.”

“Riov Rendal had at least one of her prizes and she delivered to me two of my own to break.” She said coldly, “Which did have it’s moments. Your Vulcan friend was of little use to me. She had very little useful information on your ship not being an actual officer. So we played with her for a time. Her resistance to torture was so impressive that it gave me a tremendous opportunity to test out new ideas that I had been batting around.”

“Until she simply became too dangerous to keep. So we instead learned a significant amount about her own unique quantum irregularities from her broken down DNA. It was quite scientifically fascinating, really.” t’Vask finished, tilting her head to see if that elicited a reaction beyond just what the readings were giving her.


Rather than giving the expected reaction, Enalia remained in Stoic Pirate Queen mode, her face as impassive as a granite cliff. It was still difficult to control her heart rate, however, and she could see it rise slightly on the monitors. “She was a refugee from one of those mirror universes. As a rebel and assassin, I expect she frequently found herself in one of those agony booths.”

“No longer, I can assure you.” t’Vask said plainly. “Though that technology is something we have been playing with to pleasant effect for quite a while. In fact, your counterpart has enjoyed it more than a few times in those early months.”

“Among other intriguing ways I challenged that iron will of yours, and chipped it away piece by piece.” the icy Administrator said with a smirk. “Perhaps you refuse to believe losing half your command crew in one failed rescue wasn’t enough. But when Commander Rendal destroyed that Artan Bird of Prey with the rest, it was what one might consider… disheartening.”


“This is a very dark timeline indeed...” Enalia muttered, her heart sinking as she realized just how much she had risked on that mission. One tiny thing out of place and everyone but she had ended up dead, it seemed. “And Rendal is still around, plotting her schemes as well, it seems. Working towards the goal of that master of hers.”

"I would not know. Her affairs and mine rarely overlap lest she need to bury someone she needs to have go away for a time." The overconfident administrator let slip as she spoke, catching herself a bit too late and changing course to compensate. “Those… schemes… were relatively far from your mind in short order, anyway. At least the you that is mine.”

Enalia narrowed her eyes just slightly, finally catching on to the woman’s game. If she hadn’t been stressed over the dimensional hops she’d have caught it sooner, but the administrator was using her own vitals as a distraction. The scan data didn’t seem to have anything interesting about the particles that sent her here anyway, so she decided to ignore them and focus on the woman in front of her.

Who was lying about almost everything.

If she had been focussing in the right place, she’d have realized it sooner. “I think you’ve made one thing very clear, Administrator t’Vask. Outside of this facility you have no power or authority and in fact have very little interaction with the outside world. You’ve also told me that Rendal did not destroy the Golden Ghost and that she’s still at large working for her shapeshifter master.”

Now emboldened by the realization that this reality was far more doomed as a whole, Enalia’s countenance grew far more grim. “And that tells me that your Empire, the Federation... Every power in the quadrant may very well be doomed.”

“Interesting suppositions.” t’Vask said without the slightest hint of anything in her expression shifting. “Of course, also meaningless in the greater situation in which you find yourself. For, true or false, my authority here is all you need concern yourself with. And as I see it, I can test what worked on my version of you and see if I can break you in half the time.”

“Then you might as well begin by describing how you broke your version,” the Trill woman added, actually curious as to how it happened at this point. “Or are you going to infer vague threats in the hopes that I cower in fear just knowing that you’ve somehow done it once before?”

That elicited a reaction as the cold woman’s eyes took on a half-lidded expression as she sat back in her chair with her PaDD in her hand. “Would you now expect that I might press this button and activate the modified agonizers in those gauntlets as a reaction to your behavior?”

“Or…” t’Vask pushed a different button that activated 6 smaller windows on the large screen behind them, each showing a different video of the Enalia of this reality being tortured in different, excruciating ways for only an instant before freeze framing. “I could show you some of the ways I broke your counterpart. Agonizers. Isolation. Extreme temperature. Sleep deprivation. Extreme hunger. Conventional torture. In truth, I employed most every technique and, in truth you valiantly struggled through most.”

“Of course, there is more, and as I see it, I have all the time I want to play with you.” She concluded with a grin, “And currently, it might just please me to let you wonder for a time. Let the idea eat at you in a cell someplace that I already HAVE broken you before.”

With that, she pressed a button again on the PaDD and the full screen became a security video of the local Enalia, dressed in a simple, gray one piece jumpsuit, bringing a food tray to t’Vask. Her eyes were hollow and twitchy and her posture was low and hunched over. A broken woman begging for favor from her master like a dog.

Sighing heavily, Captain Telvan glanced at her scan data which was still up and finally she saw it - the particle data as well as the decay rate. At the same time, the electronic code breaker that she had implanted in her wrist when she handed her throne over to Elysius vibrated slightly, indicating it finally cracked the first lock on the shackles on her wrists and clicked it open. It was a security measure that Captain Magnus had insisted on that was enacted a fair bit after the rescue in the timeline, meaning it was an unknown factor to her current captors. Now it just had to deactivate the other shackle and the neural disruption field.

She didn’t want to tip her hand on that just yet though - according to the decay rate, she still had just over ten minutes left here and she’d rather spend it verbally fencing than physically.

“According to your own scans, I’ll be leaving your universe for another soon and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She then nodded to her scan data. “Look at the decay rate of Unknown particle seventeen. That’s the Bulikaya thing that’s doing it. Your scans aren’t detailed enough to tell me how many more hops I have, unfortunately. Or even if I’ll be able to get home. Just that I’ll be jumping again soon.”

Knitting her brows ever so slightly, the aggravated administrator glanced down at the PaDD. In truth, she didn’t quite know how to interpret exactly what the particle readings she was receiving meant, but the lack of any physiological responses in the moment meant that Enalia wasn’t lying.

“Indeed.” Was t’Vask’s reaction, through pursed lips as the woman stood up, brushed the front of her uniform and looked down at Enalia. “Well, then. Let us no longer mince words. It appears I will no longer have the opportunity to do to you what I wish with the time available, so I will have to make due and satisfy myself in… other ways.”

PIcking the PaDD up, she pressed a single button and one of the bookcases to the side made a loud clicking sound and slid aside to reveal a more modern looking weapons locker. But instead of disruptors, it features an assortment of chromed implements of torture from what looked like a dozen different worlds. Klingon bone pullers, andorian ice whips, ancient human finger presses and much more displayed with sadistic love, on display.

In the center, a smaller safe door with a security palm press on it. “I am, above all things, a scientist. My means of discovery are reached through pressing the sentient mind and body to its limits. And yours were as breakable as any other. All it took was a step or two further.”

She pressed her hand on the pad and with a beep, the door hissed open. Cryogenic mists rolled out as a glass tube became illuminated inside. “Your Trill science considers it impossible to separate a symbiont from it’s host without killing said host. It is said to be an act of suicide for a host to allow the symbiont to be removed while both were still healthy.”

“That said, I find the word ‘impossible’ something only small minds are willing to indulge in.” Inside the tube, Enalia knew immediately what she was looking at while t’Vask spoke, her words dripping with venom. In the tube, was her own symbiote. Telvan. “And here, I was so looking forward to seeing if I could keep the host and the creature alive. Pity.”

Standing, Enalia now understood how and why the local version of her was in such a state. For a moment horror and realization spread across her face as she silently rose from the chair and took a few steps forward, her heart rate climbing.

Then the implant in her wrist vibrated a second time and the shackles clicked open the rest of the way, deactivating in the process.

As her scan data vanished from the monitor now behind her, she knew what she had to do and her Queenly countenance returned to her as she slipped out of the binders and wielded them like a blunt weapon, taking the last couple steps to the administrator. Without a second thought, the Trill woman brought the improvised weapon down as hard as she could straight down, caving in the head of the woman before her and locking the look of surprise on her face as grey matter and blood splattered all over the room.

Almost in slow motion, the body crumpled to the floor as the visiting traveler glared down upon the corpse with contempt. Laying in a clump at Enalia’s feet, the body of t’Vask twitched slightly as the woman’s dead eyes rolled back in her head. Breathing slowly and calmly, a cold look on Enalia’s face said that whatever this woman was was beneath her and now she would be the dirt on her soles. It was a look that she had been given many times before by her mother.

Rather than just stopping there though, she returned to the woman’s desk and looked it over for anything she could use to shut this place down in this universe and in her own - this woman had to die in every universe she could kill her in.

Finding a datapad with a report with the prison’s location, command codes, comm codes, even shield frequencies, she quickly memorized them and accessed the comms, quickly sending a message with the woman’s own terminal as it was still logged in to the Captain Magnus of this universe, signing it with her own name.

After deleting the records as best she could, she slowly walked back over to Telvan. The symbiote was in a jar, but she could tell that the sick woman had let the young creature die. Resting one hand on the glass, she could feel the tingle of the particles finally start as she uttered out one last “I’m so sorry...”

The very pregnant captain stood, surreptitiously leaning on a railing, trying to make it look as though she were not supporting her weight on it, still struggling to appear as the invincible captain, despite the weight she bore in her belly.

“Miss Dox.... I’m surprised he talked you into it. Most people are not that fond of Mr. Carlow’s site to site beaming. Thank you Mr. Carlow- that’ll be all,” the pointy-eared captain offered a nod and a smile, and the odd human officer smiled and nodded back, a silent communication having passed between them. Apparently living for a day in one another’s bodies had created a unique connection between the two very polar opposite people.

“Well, in my defense, I had no idea people weren’t fond of it.” Dox said with a light smile. “Besides, you trust him, so that was enough for me.”

“So…” the time tossed pilot said as she looked around. “Mr. Carlow said this was your… pet project? Where are we?”

“Main engineering, the broom closet, as I like to refer to it,” Charybdis opened the hatch into a locker room of assorted cleaning supplies. Stepping into it, she motioned for Dox to follow, and the two stood together in the crowded compartment as Charybdis addressed the overhead.

“Computer, this is Captain Charybdis. Unseal hatch 329B9, authorization Charybdis McGregor, aethhon Vorta’Vor, irrhaimehn 2387.” At that, scanner beams crisscrossed the two women, then the wall slid down, into the deck, revealing a functional and active cloaking device.

“Tlhei…” Dox muttered the Romulan equivalent of “oh my” as she stepped closer to the device, next to Char. She, of course, recognized the passwords as well as Char had referred to herself first as the craftsman of paradise and then its reckoning. Heavy words, considering what Dox knew of the woman’s destiny. A destiny that went unfulfilled in her timeline, but was still a possibility here.

“I… know this model. Much more advanced than what I grew up with on the smuggling ship I grew up on. Except.” Dox squinted slightly at the housing assembly of the device that was illegal on a Federation Starship in her time and noticed something. “Except for the power couplings there. That… looks like one of advancements my mother developed when I was younger.”

As the chamber sealed behind them, the device flickered and reappeared where a control console had stood a moment before. In its current configuration, it was wedged between two transporter pads, however. Clearly a failsafe, in addition to the holographic failsafe.

“The Victory, in point of fact, has three hearts. This is her third heart... the Phantom Drive. Its interphasic transformational field enables her to pass through solid matter and energy. It is far and away my greatest achievement. Captain James T. Kirk, of the starship Enterprise snuck across the Neutral Zone to outwit a Romulan commander who was fascinated by his first officer, Spock. Kirk made off with the cloaking device, which Montgomery Scott hotwired to work once, then he burnt out the quadraphonic stabilizers, so the shield harmonics could no longer wavemap the hull.”

“It was... a matter of family honor. This is the device he stole, the very one taken from the Honor’s Wing, that cast my mother into shame within the Star Empire. I have made it infamous... but it has yet to truly have its moment.” With an upraised eyebrow and a half smile, the cheshire captain smirked at the Romulan officer. “I thought you would appreciate seeing it, as I happen to know your background, as it were.”

“I know a bit about your history here as well, along with your Mother’s.” Dox said, returning a smirk of her own. “But it’s… amazing to see it for myself. Thank… wait.”

Pausing slightly, Dox looked at the assembly with curiosity and a raised eyebrow as she tilted her head to look at how the device was hard wired into the Victory herself. More than that, she could feel something through the deckplates and hear that familiar hum ever so slightly. “This… has its own independent singularity drive, doesn’t it? It’s own power supply. And its…”

Following the wiring with her eyes, the former smuggler found it more than a little familiar. While she was, at best, a tinkerer more than an engineer, she commented on what she was sussing out. “You… the way this is hardwired, you could power the entire ship on this if you had to, couldn’t you?”

“Three hearts. One never knows where the universe may take you. I have taken pains to prevent it from being located, so... should the day ever come where I need for her to spring to life, she will offer... Redemption. That’s what I named her. Have you ever noticed, there is no word in our language for ‘redemption,’, Miss Dox?” The traitor to the Star Empire patted the singularity fondly. “If my plan succeeds, I will save our people... to light their darkest hour. To break the patterns of force. The balance of terror that has made us weak, snivelling cowards, the laughing stock of the galaxy. I would see us better than that. I would see us restore honor to our people once more... Mnhei’sahe.”

Listening, Dox looked over at the very pregnant woman she had first met as an elderly Admiral and was struck by the weight of her words. And in those words, she could hear in her memory, the echo of her Charybdis. Not the old woman, but the revitalized spirit of the woman herself, who came to Dox upon the birth of her children from the beyond.

“I understand what you’re trying to achieve. You know I do.” Dox said, a bit of hesitance in her voice as she worked up the nerve to speak. “But… there was something else. Another time that we talked, and what you told me… I need to tell you now.”

“We spoke last… on the day of my children’s birth. When you told me…” Dox paused for a moment, struggling to remember the words. “You said… ‘all that glorious cosmic adventuring can turn to dust. What really matters is family, friends, and the lives that you touch’.”

“Your children… because of your genetic makeup… will grow up fast. In my timeline, you were struggling with this purpose, and you missed their childhood.” Dox said, a bit more confidence in her voice as she remembered that night and Char’s own words, “THAT was your regret, Char. That was what haunted you more than the fate of our homeword, or your place in galactic history. You regretted not being there for them when they needed you the most.”

“I don’t know what you can do with that information, but it was important enough for you to come to tell me that… after you were dead, an aehallh.” Dox smiled a bit nervously as she spoke, using the Romulan word for 'ghost'. “The least I can do is return that favor here, in the living years, when it can still do you some good.”

The captain’s expression became one of consideration. Then she spoke, as she tended to do- directly. “Dox has hinted there is a confluence of forces which will tilt galactic history in the near future. How long do I have to be able to possess at least a year to prepare to move and be prepared to act?”

Remembering Char’s earlier conversation with Admiral Cartwright, she began working out the details in her head. “Presuming I’m thinking about the same event your version of me hinted at, that would occur in… about 6 years. 2293. So… to be prepared to act, 2292 is your answer.”

That eyebrow rose a little higher, and Charybdis shook her head slightly as she paced slowly. “You would violate the laws of space and time all because of a kinship you felt to a woman who was me in another lifetime.” Pausing, she turned, the true emotion of the situation betrayed in those odd violet eyes of her. While her stoic captain facade had slipped, because the truth was evident to her.

Looking at the nebulae eyed woman standing before her, Dox held up her fingers, one at a time as she spoke with a warm smile. "Prioritize. Number one, stay alive. Number two, your partner, Number three, your family. Number four, the job. Your words. Good words."

“I... hope that I can live up to this old woman you met, Miss Dox. I hope... I can perhaps learn from her mistakes, and perhaps... perhaps there are things more important than I may have previously thought. A wise man once told me in this universe there are always... possibilities.” Charybdis smiled at the visitor from another reality, who had brought quite a new reality with her.

“Come on. It’s time for you to go, and it’s time for us to see you off.” Placing her hand on the scanner, the retinal scan searched Charybdis’ eye, then she called out ‘Immerse ahram dread’, and the door slid open.

“The transporter pads start if the door mechanism isn’t properly disarmed. I am currently laboring under the fervent hope that will never come into play,” the captain explained as they made their way back into main engineering.

The two women crossed the busy engineering section somewhat quietly. Looking up at the pulsing, twin columns that powered the incredible vessel, Dox couldn't help but smile a bit. To her, the Victory had been part of an incredible story shared with her by the elder Charybdis, a universe away. Yet here she was, standing in her hearts where a part of her would now live out her own life. It was staggering to contemplate.

As they made their way through engineering, some of the crew members could be seen watching her. This woman that, to them, was both alien and familiar at the same time.

Following the Victory's Captain, Dox was silent. There was a weight to the moment the young officer didn't quite understand, but she respected nonetheless. The little timer in her pocket said she had only about ten more minutes before she would be removed from this time and place by the volatile particles swirling inside of her. But as they rounded the corridor and entered the portside torpedo bay, Dox's heart jumped into her chest.

There was a botswain's whistle announcing their arrival into the blue metaled chamber. A long corridor with metal gratings covering the track for photon torpedoes to be loaded during combat. Standing at attention along both sides of the track, stood the command crew of the U.S.S. Victory..

Closest to her, was the relentless and intoxicating Qurka Qurg, who winked conspiratorially at her. Then the young and enthusiastic Andorian clone, Lieutenant Tivri. As Dox's eyes bounced back and forth, she hopscotched across the queue as she instinctively came to attention for what she realized was a disembarking line. An ancient Earth Military tradition, and an honor for any officer.

There was the Victory's chief engineer she had barely met, Commander Maur Weaver, who still stood at attention for the lower-ranking officer, his eyes clearly on other things, yet here he stood. The Kolari assassin, whom the Federation called Orions, Lieutenant Andurean Velth, standing next to his beloved, the Victory's chief medical officer, Dr. Siivas Mackenzie. Standing next to him was none other than Lieutenant Jessica Valin, who had made no bones about her feelings towards the time and dimension tossed Dox. Beside her stood Carlow, the odd anachronism who might just have given her the key to saving her own starship when she returned.

As she watched, Captain Charybdis made her way to the end and stood in the center, flanked by Lieutenant Commander T'Vyn on one side, and on the other side by her own counterpart. Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox, the second officer of the Victory.

Looking across at the people that had come to not only accept, but welcome her counterpart as family, it was difficult for the Hera's Dox to contain herself as Char spoke.

“It is naval tradition that when a crew member departs the ship, that they should be seen off with all honors, if honors they have earned. In your brief time on the Victory, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox on temporary assignment from the USS Hera, you have saved a number of the lives, while serving honorably and ably. To you, we present our highest honor.”

Opening a box she had produced from somewhere, Charybdis produced a Starfleet insignia- the very one all of her officers wore upon their breast, including she herself. White bar with three gold lines, overlaid by a copper command delta not unlike Rita’s, but surrounded by a thin circle of copper. One that would be in use for decades of service, replaced when comm badges became the insignia on uniformed chests.

“As captain, it is my honor and privilege to welcome new crew, and rotate them on to other duty stations. As we see Lieutenant Commander Dox off to her transfer back to the USS Hera, we offer this- a memento of her membership in the crew of the USS Victory, her temporarily assigned duty station. In which she performed admirably and with honor, and will be added to the roll of the Victory crew past, so that history will reflect their deeds and heroism.”

At that, the odd botswain’s whistle sounded again, and the entire company came to attention, and saluted the visiting officer, who was now only seconds away from her extradimensional departure.

As with the other leaps, Dox could feel that energy beginning to build in her. But while she was still there, she walked past the assemblage of officers with pride welling up in her chest as she stood before Char and the others now, at full attention. Arms at her side and her head held tall with pride and just a few years in her eyes.

"Thank you, Captain. It is a great honor you grant me. And it was my honor to serve you all in my time here." Dox said, maintaining her military posture even though Char could see the emotions in her eyes. They were reflected back, as she heard the woman’s voice in her mind, for the first time.

May Al’thindor shade your path with their wings, and guide your way. Know that you have made a difference here, and comported yourself with honor. While I will ever be grateful that you are here serving beside me, in another reality, in another time, all that I ask is that you remember us, and think of us fondly. Because in a past not yours, in a universe not your own, you were a hero to me and mine. I owe you a debt of honor I shall never be able to repay... but know that I will de my best to live up to that image in your mind, of that remarkable woman who did not succeed.

Rest assured, Miss Dox... I will. Those oddly distracting nebulous violet eyes were penetrating, but in them Dox could see the genuine gratitude reflected. Her being here had made a difference, and it seemed, always would.

"I know you will." The Hera's Dox said as she looked at her counterpart with a smirk. "After all. I know that here… you'll have a little extra help."

Then, the Victory's second officer looked at her counterpart and smiled. "Indeed. You know I'll take care of them all. As for that badge, one is an arrow to point to us… to where you've been."

Then she held out a closed hand to the time displaced Romulan pilot who could feel those energies in her beginning to pulse to life again. Opening her hand, the Victory's Dox gently placed something in it. And when she pulled her hands back, the Hera's Dox looked down to see her counterpart’s commbadge from her time on the Hera.

"This one… the Admiral let me keep. A reminder from another time. I don't need it anymore… but I think you just might. As, perhaps, a compass... to help you find where you belong."

"Thank you for reminding me that I'm where I belong, Mnhei'sahe." The Victory counterpart said, as the particles began to move the Hera's Dox slightly out of phase, and she began leaping.

"Thank you… for doing the same." Came the reply, slightly echoing as the Hera's Dox shimmered and looked back at the Romulan Captain. "Fate keeps bringing us together, Char. For that, I will be eternally grateful. Jolan tru."

Raising her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute as the scene faded from her sight, Dox could have sworn she heard a smirking Charybdis’ reply with, “Live long and prosper, Rihannsu.”

To Be Continued...

This time, when the captain of the USS Hera popped into existence with a blue sparkle, she found herself once more in the Artan fortress. Thankfully, she recognized the decor at least, with its sweeping arches and ornate, Art Nouveau fixtures. Even under the bizarre circumstances, there was a moment of comfort for the world she had left behind to be a Starfleet captain. A world she missed a bit, as she looked around to take in her surroundings. She was in one of the mid-level libraries dedicated to the history of sciences. Was her counterpart here a scientist or...

As she turned around to survey her surroundings further, she realized that she was likely in one of what was going to be her least favorite timelines yet as she heard the echo of unfriendly but familiar voices nearby. Her heart sank as she glanced over at the window to the next chamber. Immediately, she recognized the faces of the three occupants: Davo Mudd, Cleo Mudd, and her mother’s smirk... on her own face. Thankfully, they were in one of the side offices of the library discussing something she couldn’t hear so she ducked out of view behind one of the bookshelves and hoped they hadn’t seen her.

“I take it in this timeline, the Tribunal didn’t go well for me.” Enalia muttered, hoping they hadn’t noticed her at all. Either way, it would only be a matter of time before the security logs and the holo-maids reported her. After all, none of them were in Starfleet uniforms, and hers had her sticking out like a sore thumb. She’d have to try and change. On the bright side, she’d lost her comm badge and rank pips in the last leap so there was no need to dispose of them. She just had to avoid those three for... What? Two hours and a few minutes?

This was going to get complicated.

Taking a quick glance back at the trio, she made a point of memorizing what her mother was wearing in her body - a retro red and gold skin tight number that seemed to show off enough skin to qualify as a bikini, yet still had all the entrapments of the station.

Shaking her head at the indignity of it, she just made her way to the nearest exit and the nearest clothing replicator so she could get changed, avoiding any views of the office windows and any of the holo-maids in the process.

Once she was out of there and had her new outfit on, she grimaced at how skimpy it really was. At least it was easy to find in the pattern buffer, but it was chilly and it showed off way too much. It had to have been more to Davo’s tastes than her mother’s. Still, she had to pretend to be her for a couple hours at the very least so she put on airs as best she could and walked out of the restroom as if she owned the place, taking the lift to a remote part of the fortress - one that she was pretty sure her mother would never visit.

The arboretum.

But first, she’d have to take one of the large transparisteel lifts down almost to the bottom of the internal castle without being spotted.

Thankfully, she made it to the lift, but when the doors opened there was someone else inside also riding it down. Without hesitation, she stepped inside and punched in the code for the arboretum, flat out ignoring the woman on the other side of the lift as if they were nothing to her - an act that she often saw her mother do to those around her but now she had to do as well.

Standing on the far side of the lift, the woman was young and appeared to maybe be a records clerk from the stacks of papers in her arms. Trade contracts that needed to be filed, from the looks of them. In the enclosed space, as they traveled, Enalia’s glances over had been noticed and the young woman was beginning to look nervous. Beads of sweat were forming upon her slightly furrowed brow as she clutched the papers a little tighter.

This all but confirmed what she had seen in that smaller room off of the library. She had strove to be a fair and kind woman in her dealings, but this was absolutely how people cowered in the presence of her mother and seeing someone behave that way to her made her stomach tighten.

Thankfully, the woman’s level came quickly and she rushed out fearfully, leaving Enalia alone in the lift for the last few levels to the arboretum.

It was normally carefully stocked with plants, birds, and small wildlife from Trill. However it seemed that upkeep had been lacking since management had changed hands and several parts of the grounds had been torn up. Regardless, it was proof that few came here so Enalia felt safe in her sanctuary and grabbed some tools so she could do a little gardening.

What she didn’t realize was that after only a short while, one of the holo-maids came by to water the plants and saw her repairing the gardens. There was a long pause for a moment as the holo-maid acknowledged her with an official and preprogrammed bow. Behind those eyes, however, Enalia could imagine that holographic mind processing the station's security feeds and data. That holo-maid then reported her location.

When the system saw that there were two of the same person on the fortress… and not just any person, but the Queen herself, a silent alert was sounded and the local Telvan was alerted to her presence via security datapad.

From where she was, she could hear the door to the arboretum seal with a light hiss as the eyes of the holo-maid performed a more detailed security scan of Enalia. Then, it’s pleasant eyes snapped to a stark red glow as a security protocol had been activated.

Looking up from the planter she’d been working on in surprise, Enalia saw the holo-maid in security mode and realized she’d been sealed in. “I guess I should have been more careful...” she muttered as she stood and brushed herself off, wishing she had kept her uniform handy - or at least something that wasn’t so revealing or chilly.

“Alright then, you found me. What will you do next?” Enalia put on her most queenly airs just in case and waited.

That was when the clouds of knockout gas, invisible to the naked eye, finally took hold, and Enalia’s world went dark.



When she came to, she was strapped to a table, set on an incline so that she was not quite upright but not quite lying flat, either. Propped at an angle, her wrists were secured in some rather comprehensive high-tech mittens that would render her hands useless as anything but clubs even if she could move them from the tabletop, which she could not. Similar bowling ball booties encased her feet, and that seemed to be all she was wearing.

“...coming around now. The brainwave scans are conclusive- physically this is the same model, but this is Enalia Telvan,” Davo Mudd declared, studying the readings as he paced over to hand the tablet to the Queen of the Artans. Mudd was clad in a white rubber doctor’s labcoat that was clearly capable of extending into a full biohazard suit, as was Cleopatra, who seemed to be prepping a torture/interrogation/kinky sex device of some sort. She spared Enalia a wide toothy grin before testing the small electrocution probes, which arced to her satisfaction.

“Well well well, hello there,” purred Enalia’s body, with the mannerisms of her dead mother Arenara Artan. “According to Mudd, you’re not a clone or a robot, but you do have a varied vibrational frequency that indicates that you don’t belong here, but it seems you are emulating our vibrational frequency with a fascinating radioactive particle that has permeated your cells. Want to tell me all about it, or are you going to be the stoic and noble... are you even a queen where you come from?”

“I named a successor and she’s...” Enalia began as her head cleared and realized she was still in the same universe and regained her ‘stoic and noble’ composure, even trapped on a table as she was. “But that’s not important right now, is it? No, that’s not really one of the answers you’re looking for. You’re far more interested in that particle.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to tell you everything I know about it,” Enalia added as a bluff. In all honesty she barely knew anything about it, which meant she really couldn’t tell them much of anything in the first place. Just from Mudd’s scans, he could probably tell her far more.

“Pffft. Like you’d know anything about science,” Cleopatra Mudd laughed, and the assemblage joined in.

“Named a successor? Interesting. Still in command of your own faculties, bebopping thorough what, alternate dimensions, Davo? Now here you are. How much time do we have left before she vanishes, Mudd?” Arenara asked, talking about Enalia without actually including her in the conversation- an old tactic that Enalia had forgotten about, which her mother often employed to dehumanize others.

“Hard to say...” Mudd replied, then he noticed the sharp look from his Mistress, and he amended his reply. “What I mean to say is, as I haven’t got any frame of reference, I can’t determine when the breakdown of particles will result in her...”

Again, the cold stare was getting colder, and both Mudds reacted the same way- with an edge of fear. Apparently handing Arenara Artan the Agonizer technology hadn’t worked out entirely in Mudd’s favor.

“Ahhhhhh...” Mudd consulted his readings, then stepped over to murmur with Cleopatra as Arenara in Enalia’s body looked her up and down, then studied her face, particularly her eyes. “You think you know who I am, but you really don’t. That’s entertaining to me. Maybe I’ll hold off on the dissection if we have time just so I can give you a real portrait of just who you are where you’ve had the misfortune to land. Mudd, can you stop her from vanishing?”

Back at the interrogation machine controls, the Mudds both looked up in unison. “We’re, ah, working on it, my Queen. It’s a new particle, one I’ve never encountered before, and it is behaving rather strangely-” Davo Mudd offered before she cut him off.

“I don’t let you live to make excuses, Mudd. I let you live because you produce results. So produce.” There was an inherent threat in the woman’s voice that Enalia knew well, even hearing it in her own voice. This was unmistakably her mother, masquerading as Enalia in a stolen body. Idly Enalia wondered if the Telvan symbiote inside her still carried her ghost, the memory of her essence- trapped as a prisoner in her own body, watching Arenara use and abuse it.

“I know you well enough. I know that you’ll do anything to get what you want, and I know many of your tricks and methods,” Enalia replied as she then turned to the Mudds. “As for a frame of reference, you can’t stop me from jumping. If you try, my remains, my clothing, anything you remove... It will all still jump. I’m pretty sure I can take small things with me, but I can’t leave anything behind.”

The Trill visitor was pretty sure that was a lie since she was pretty sure her badge and pips were lost forever in the last universe, but she pressed on anyway, replacing the name of the particle she knew with the name of an obscure article of Earth clothing. “That’s how the Balaclava particles work. You get radiated, you visit twelve random versions of yourself. First visit is thirty seconds and every visit after is twice the length of the last.”

“And if you can tell me how long I’ve been here, I can tell you how long before I leave,” Enalia added with a slight grin. She was fairly confident she knew how long she was in the arboretum, but she needed to know how long she’d been out. “And I might just give you a hint of where you might be able to find data on these particles.”

At that Cleopatra Mudd looked up, but was silenced by an upraised finger. “Nothing can stop you, hmmm? Mudd, draw the particles out of her. If we can’t stop her from leaving... which is a shame, as I can always use another body double... then let’s at least ensure we have the means to pursue her.”

“After all,” Areenara smiled, a cold, loveless affair that was more unsettling than anything else. “You seem to think I’m going to forget about this little intrusion and forgive it once you’re gone. That’s adorably naive. You invaded my home, impersonated me and represent an all new reality to plunder. Ohhh, you may think you’re going to escape me, but not for long, I assure you...”

The two Mudds were comparing notes and communicating in hushed whispers that Enalia recognized. They were the tones of people who could not satisfy the Bloody Queen of the Artans, and woe betide those who disappointed her.

The imprisoned Enalia sighed heavily, and bonked her head against the table she was on. “You were nowhere near this melodramatic in my universe... Seriously, the only thing you’re missing is creepy background music. This is why I left, you know. You did the whole ‘look at me, I’m an evil mastermind’ schtick while surrounding yourself with idiots that cowered before you.”

At that, both Mudds looked up, looked at one another, then back to Enalia.

“Now and then you found a few lackeys with some brains that would have been far better off captains of their own ships like these two, but you never realized one key thing that grandma and I tried to tell you over and over again,” Here, Enalia rolled her head over to Arenara with a dispassionate look on her face. “You catch more followers with honey than with stabbing them in the back.”

“How would you know? Yours are all dead-” Arenara began, but Enalia cut her off.

“Force me to stay here in this universe? You couldn’t force me to stay in your family,” Captain Telvan then looked over to Davo and Cleo meaningfully. “I don’t know if you know Az’Prel in this life, but in my reality her love of you two is far from a weakness. Nothing is more important than family and this woman... You’ve seen what she’s done to her own family, let alone those around her.”

“There will come a day when she’ll come for you two as well,” Enalia finished, her look deepening. “Because she can’t stand seeing family. That’s why she murdered her own husband.”

“Finally figured it out, or did someone tell you that?” Arenara muttered haughtily, stepping away from the table as she spoke. “You’re a weakling, Enalia, always have been...”

As the queen went on, the Mudds, working together, observed as the half-life of the rapidly decaying particles broke down and multiplied at an expanding rate. Raising his black rubber-clad hand to the queen, she held up her finger, indicating him to wait while she continued berating her daughter.

Enalia Telvan would be gone for 23 seconds before Arenara Artan, in her stolen body, would whirl dramatically to realize her audience was gone.

“You let her get away?!?” the Queen of the Artan Pirates roared, as a transporter beam engaged, and the two Mudds vanished.

“DAMN YOU ENALIA, YOU MISBEGOTTEN SOW! I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS, I SWEAR IT!”

Arenara Artan roared her rage to the universe. The universe did not particularly seem to take notice.

Plots to work on
------------------
Thex's Andoria Mission
Sickbay Baby Boom and Team Building
Malana's & Weiaex's baby
Aiva's Heart
Klingon Sisters - Officer Candidacy
Finish Sado's Onboarding

I know there are a few more...

EPILOGUE: Jessica Valin

It had been one of the longest days in the strange life of Lieutenant Commander Mnehi’sahe Dox in the year since she had joined the crew of the U.S.S. Victory. Her counterpart was gone, spirited away by the Bulukiya particles within her, presumably back to the Hera and the end of the 24th century. But back in the late 23rd century, the young Romulan pilot was relieved that at least one part of the trial she had weathered was behind her.

None of that meant that the rest of her day had been uneventful, of course. They had rendered necessary aid to the crew of the Saratoga as planned, and saved a lot of lives. Back on Earth, James T. Kirk and his crew had saved all of humanity yet again. And it had gone exactly like it had in the young officer’s comparative history class back at the academy.

But it wasn’t history in the here and now. The here and now was where Mnhei’sahe had lived for over a year now. Pulled out of her own timeline, she now really understood, to some degree, what Rita Paris had always struggled with being a woman out of time.

Just in the other direction.

It had been a long day, but it was finally over. Her shift was complete, and her official duties all managed. Now, all she had to do was go home and hope Jessica was okay.

As Dox walked, a bit slower than the martial pace she had adopted from Rita back on the Hera, she was purposefully stalling. Lieutenant Jessica Valin’s shift ended earlier than her own, giving the already anxious human tactical officer that much more time to think about what had happened.

Throughout the entire, bizarre scenario, Jessica had done her level best to keep a cool head, but the cracks in the tough, tall, well-built human had shown. And they were deep cracks.

This other Dox challenged everything. She had been a walking, talking reminder of everything Mnhei’sahe had struggled to walk away from to embrace her life on the Victory and the resentment Jessica had been feeling, combined with the anger fueled by fear, had been palpable.

Pushing the pad outside their shared quarters, Dox took a breath as she stepped into the modestly sized space. The lights were dim, but those sensitive Romulan ears caught the familiar breathing of the woman she had unexpectedly fallen for. “Jessica. Are… you okay?”

Curled up on the bunk was the tall, athletic form of Jessica Valin, the tactician from Titan, the insecure alcoholic who was not a lesbian, yet had fallen in love with one all the same. The woman whose vulnerability was a closely guarded secret, yet clear to any who understood such things. Uneasy with her own body and sexuality, she made Mnhei’sahe seem bold and lascivious by comparison.

So the fact that she was artfully arranged in a pink frilly nighty with matching panties, her hair down and loose, makeup applied, soft music playing and Dox’s favorite incense lit, spoke volumes. Offering a tumbler filled with not liquor, but the sour candies Dox she knew Dox loved, Valin did her best to sound seductive.

“See anything you, ah, like...?”

“Every single time I look at you, Jessica.” Mnhei’sahe said as she walked over to the bunk, took the offered tumbler of candy and set it down with a light smile. “But… just you. You know that. I appreciate whenever you make this kind of effort, I really do. But, I also know you aren't exactly comfortable.”

Sitting on the side of the bunk, Dox ran her hand through her thick, red curls and nodded with a warm smile and she gently placed her hand on Jessica’s cheek. “I know that none of… what we are came easy to you. It came out of… what’s the expression… left field, for both of us. But I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I’m here for you. And I always know that you’re here for me. You’ve been here for me and I love that. I love you.”

“And nothing that happened today has changed that.” Mnhei’sahe said, leaning on her side and pressing her forehead against Jessica’s. “Today… all that happened was a reminder that this is where I belong. Not just the Victory. But here.”

As she said the word ‘here’, she gently took her hand and put it over Jessica’s heart.

At which points no words were spoken, and none needed. For both expressed how they felt quite thoroughly without a single word.

---------------------
EPILOGUE: Qurka Qurg

Waking up next to Jessica, Dox felt good. She had expected a fitful night’s sleep after the emotional turmoil of the last day, but instead she slept surprisingly deep and long. Unlike when she was still on the Hera, THIS Mnhei’sahe Dox occasionally slept in a little but this morning, she had a bit of energy to spare and someone she wanted to talk to.

In the ship’s somewhat spartan gymnasium, with a little over an hour before she had to report to duty, Dox had her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She was wearing her usual black workout pants and top, as she stood in front of Qurka Qurg.

“So, you seemed like you were having a bit of fun.” the redheaded Romulan said to the half Vulcan, half Klingon temptress who had spent the past two days rather aggressively hitting on the Dox from the Hera.

“Two of you? If I worked it right I could have had TWO redheaded Romulans at the same time?” Qurka Qurg laughed throatily as she dropped to a pivot sweep which Dox hopped over, then double hopped for the follow-up sweep she’d learned to anticipate. “What can I say. Seeing you like that again... all wound up tight, exhausted, at the end of your rope and still gamely trying to put on ‘officer face?”

Stepping in to grab Dox’s arm, Qurka locked on a hold which Dox then countered, which led to Qurka adding her other hand, which then led to Dox adding another hand as they struggled for dominance. “How could I NOT tease her a bit? Not like I mentioned that birthmark on her inner thigh...”

"I'm… impressed you showed such restraint, then." Dox said with a clearly knowing smirk, straining a bit against the much taller, physically stronger woman before twisting the hold into a roll which sent Qurka over her shoulder, slamming them both to the mat with a bit of a thud that did little more than break the hold for a moment.

It wasn't all that hard to remember what she had been like when she had first joined the Victory, and it was troubling to see that the version of herself that had returned to the Hera didn't seem to have learned to manage her anxiety much in the year the two had been on different paths.

"And frankly… I half expected her to crack." Dox said, trying and failing to roll away from Qurka's grip as the skilled Klingon pulled the red headed Romulan into a leg lock.

“I was at LEAST expecting some violence out of her- sleep deprived, jumpy and whoo, the shades of mint she turned. I had her HOT under the collar, and she did NOT like that!” As she applied pressure to the hold, Qurka continued to chat- a habit she had while during nearly anything she engaged in but sex.

"Aggh." Dox winced as she began twisting to try and get out of the grip as Qurka quickly countered. "She seemed… I don't know. I don't know if I'm the best person to gauge myself, but she almost seemed… more uptight than I did."

“Mmmmm, less at home in her own skin. Of course, you were pretty quick to turn on her too, because you thought she was judging you for actually being happy.” With a grunt and a twist, Qurka released the hold, but it left her sitting astride the Romulan woman in her typical teasing fashion. Tapping Dox’s chest with a long fingernail, Quirk’s lips formed a pout of consideration. “I think THAT’s telling more than anything else. That you assumed she would resent you for having found happiness here. Did she?”

Once upon a time, Dox would have raged at the indignation of such a defeat, but the woman in the here and now rolled her eyes, more focused on the conversation than in simply being out-wrestled again by Qurka.

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, the supine pilot conceded and laid out flat as if she had been deflated by her sigh.. “Noooo, that was on me. When we finally just talked... she said she was… jealous of me. Of what I had here. Said it reminded her of what she didn’t have back there as much as anything else...”

The expression on the pretty Klingon woman’s face turned from one of mischief to genuine curiosity as she sat back in consideration. “That... has to be flattering. So what have you got that she ain’t got? Other than me, of course...” As she spoke, Qurka slid down the body of Dox, managing to make it sexually suggestive before she rose smoothly, offering her hand up to her sparring partner.

With a light smirk, Dox took Qurka’s hand as the powerful woman helped pull the much shorter Romulan woman back to her feet. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, really. And… well, I think back to when I was there. On the Hera, where she is now. I think about what I really had there, and I think…”

“As much as I missed it there when I first arrived here, and as much as I still miss some of the things that were there.” Dox said with a bit of a chuckle as she continued, “Food replicators and windows in my quarters, for a start.”

“But… I mean. I was… lonely. My mother was there, but it’s not like THAT was a healthy relationship. And, I had a wife and that was good. I still miss that and on some level, I’ll always miss her. But so much of my relationships there were cold. Rita Paris was like a big sister and I miss her a lot. But… the Captain… she had an agenda for me that was always making me choose between her and Starfleet. The other command staff… I always felt like they just… tolerated me. The flight crew there was afraid of me more often than not.”

“I mean… I was a kreldanni pain in the ass. I know that. I was always anxious and I reacted to that by shutting myself off, so I was half of the problem right there, and I know that.” Dox said, shrugging slightly. “But I didn’t REALLY understand how to start changing that until I came here. And… I don’t think SHE understands that either. Or, at least, she didn’t until she saw me here. Saw me with all of you. I… hope she learns.”

“There is not here,” Qurka replied, leaning into an arm grapple with Dox that the Romulan woman knew would develop into a shoulder throw or a leg trip designed to take her down to the mat with the perfumed mass of Klingon atop her. ” We are not them. So what she goes back to won’t have changed, but perhaps she will?”

As if on cue, that ankle hook arrived, designed to sweep Dox off balance and to the floor. There were at least half a dozen ways she could think of to have avoided the maneuver, but in the moment, the red-headed pilot from the future let it happen as she slammed back down to the mat.

Predictably, Qurka took advantage of the momentum and was quickly straddling Dox with that familiar, predatory grin. But unlike the Dox from the Hera who reacted to the seductive Klingon with anxiety and a flustered embarrassment, THIS Dox knew her ‘opponent’ much better.

While the move knocked the wind out of her for an instant, her reply was a somewhat sly grin of her own. “I hope she will. I tried to show her that it was okay to breathe. Okay to let people in.”

The double entendre was not unnoticed as Dox continued. “I have to say… it seems like you missed that version of me a little. The stiff, awkward blushing and stammering. You seemed to miss that hunt.”

The grin that split the face of the glamorous Klingon was one of equal parts genuine glee and guilty pleasure. “I admit it, being able to fluster you was soooooo easy,” Qurka stretched the syllables as she threatened to smother Dox to death with her prodigious and prominently displayed breasts for a second, before backing off to sit down beside the Romulan woman.

“But I prefer this version- happy, secure, sees sex as something healthy and not a shameful secret, is comfortable with her own body and has herself a nice conservative girl who’ll always eye me with just a little teensy bit of jealousy,” Qurka giggled. “Jessica will NEVER like me, and she’ll always be hung up on the fact that I’ve been where she goes. But in a way, she’s a lot like that version of you who just left. Maybe that’s why you and her work so well together, hm?”

With a light grunt, Dox scooched up to a sitting position next to Qurka and nodded with a smile. “I think so. We both… had some pieces missing, and I think in helping each other, we found that support we both needed. We see ourselves in each other, and in helping the other work on their issues, we work on our own in the process. I’m not sure. But… she makes me happy.”

“I hope I make her happy, too.” Dox brushed a stray forelock out of her eyes. “I like to think I do, at least.”

“Oh staaahhhhhhp,” Qurka said dramatically, rolling her eyes. “She wants you though she doesn’t want to, she needs you even though she doesn’t want to, and she loves you more than she can admit to herself because being that vulnerable terrifies her. ‘I’d like to think I make her happy’. You know that little squeal noise she makes when you...”

Seeing the building reaction on her face, Qurka held up her hands in surrender. “WHAT? There are no secrets on this ship, you KNOW that!” she laughed as Dox batted at her playfully and Qurka feigned distress.

But, as Dox turned to the side to throw a mock punch at her friend, after everything the two had just done, there was a light popping sound and the red-headed Romulan seized up and winced in pain, grabbing her neck.

“Imirrhlhhse!!!”

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

EPILOGUE: Siivas

Sitting on a biobed in Sickbay, Dox was embarrassed. After spending a half hour sparring with Qurka, she ended up pulling a muscle in her neck that was currently throbbing. For someone who used to try to hurt herself to manage her emotional issues, it felt silly to be in sickbay with a pulled muscle. But she also could barely move her neck in SPITE of Qurka’s best efforts at rubbing the knot out.

“Hey, at least it’s not broken. It’s… I didn’t actually break anything, did I Siivas?” Dox asked of the Victory’s Deltan doctor on duty.

“Oh no, nothing broken except your pride when Qurka carried you in like the cutest little redheaded stepchild,” Siivas teased, knowing the sting to her pride would keep her mind off the pain in her neck. “Just a pulled muscle combined with a displaced tendon or two. Nothing a little muscle relaxer and a day off won’t cure,” the Deltan doctor explained cheerfully as he applied the hypo to her neck.

“So, no piloting starships while under the influence of muscle relaxers. 24 hours off duty, complain and I make it 48. No athletics with Qurka for that same 48 hours- I know you two play rough- and try to keep the sexual gymnastics to a minimum for the next 24. Try being on bottom, you might like it.” the smooth-pated physician wiggled his shockingly red eyebrows at the redheaded Romulan, poking her gently about a previous discussion.

Biting her tongue, Dox desperately wanted to protest. The last thing she wanted was to putter around all day with nothing to do but think, but she knew Siivas well enough to know he would absolutely make good on that promise to extend her off-duty time.

Instead, she sighed lightly as the tension in her neck started to abate, glad that while 23rd Century medicine wasn’t that big of a difference from her point of view to what she had been used to. Slowly, she tested the hypo a bit by gently moving her head from side to side, happy to no longer have that action met by aggressive, intramuscular protests.

“The bulkheads on this ship are too fvadt thin. At this point, I might as well just charge admission considering that Qurka is clearly right, and there really ARE no secrets here.” Dox said, as she lightly rubbed her neck where the hypo had been administered. THAT still stung just the slightest bit more than they used to for her. Or maybe she just noticed it more that she wasn’t really seeking OUT pain quite as much these days.

“There are no secrets on this ship from me and of course Char, but don’t let Qurka’s prescience get to you. She doesn’t KNOW, she guesses well and she knows how to read your reactions. Then she gets to see you squirm a bit, but that's just fun for her. Don’t let it get to you, Mnhei’sahe. What have I told you?”

“My self worth is far more important than my pride, and assuming people are judging me negatively only inspires them to judge me negatively,” Dox sighed, shaking her head just a bit at Siivas for, as usual, knowing her better than she usually knew herself.

“Might be why Qurka carried you in like that today... perhaps a little gentle reminder to your pride?” Siivas responded gently, patting Dox on the shoulder. “Go wander the ship and spend some time processing today. Not everyone gets visited by an alternate reality version of themselves and gets to see what their life might have been like under different circumstances. PARTICULARLY a life they had been torn away from, and had to adapt to all new circumstance. You’re allowed a little time to be off-kilter and examining things. It’s natural- I’d be more concerned if you didn’t.”

“I know you’re right. I know QURKA was right… though I hate admitting THAT.” Dox replied, adding a bit of a muttering gripe at her Klingon friend’s observational skills. “It’s still… difficult. I’d rather not have had to think about it at all, but that’s not really an option anymore. There was… a lot I think she wasn’t telling me, when we did talk.”

“It was NOT easy choosing to not ask certain things. And keeping myself out of her head took… a good bit of effort.” Dox admitted to the Deltan Doctor who had taken over the training of her nascent psionic skills in this reality, and done so with a good degree more proverbial gusto than Sonak ever did back on the Hera. “That said… I’m glad I did. I didn’t want to go in there and see all that. FEEL all that. But I understand why Char didn’t want her telling me anything about her life.”

“No good could come of it. Bad and you would want to help, good and it would make your heart ache.” Leaning in to hug the shorter woman, who still stiffened up slightly in response, the Deltan doctor held the redheaded pilot and patted her back as he whispered. Be here. Be in the moment. Let the past be what it was, and let future take care of itself while you live here in the moment, Rihannsu. Ie?”

After a moment, the initial stiffness loosened up as Dox nodded silently, leaning a bit into the hug. She thought of everything Siivas was saying, and knew she would have a long day to think about both his words, and the weight of what she had seen in that version of herself that had been here in her new home for the past day. “I was getting… better at that. At living in the moment. And… I’ll do my best to not backslide.”

“Thank you.” Dox said, sitting back and looking at the man that had become a mentor to her in many ways since arriving in this strange, exciting and challenging reality she had learned to embrace with difficulty. “For everything.”

“That’s why I’m here. We come to serve,” Siivas said with a grin before pointing out, “Did you know the Vulcans swiped that from us...?”


To Be Continued…

EPILOGUE: Charybdis

The day had been a long and introspective one for Dox, as she spent a good deal of the day following her doctor, friend and mentor’s advice, and did her best to reflect on her experiences of the last day. To review and process what she had learned from interacting with the version of herself from a timeline where she had never been lost over a century into her own past.

After visiting engineering and the flight deck, she had talked with many of the friends she had made during the year she had been here on the Victory. Having a very lively lunch in the officer’s mess with Jessica and Tivri, they laughed for what felt like the first time in days.

With her natural inclination being to try and work through stress still very much a habit for the young Romulan, it was never easy to take it easy. The more she thought about it, the more she suspected that she was very likely perfectly fine to go back to work, but that Siivas wisely took the opportunity to give her the much needed time to think.

In most cases, Siivas was generally right, and time was definitely what Mnhei’sahe Dox needed. Time to think and reflect, as her mentor had said, on being here. And after a long day of thinking, she was coming to a comfortable conclusion that she was happy. She had become accustomed to clinging to the memory of the Hera, but by now she had been on the Victory longer than she had been on that other ship... a century away.

The woman she was on the Hera… the woman who had just left the day before… approached her anxiety and distress with overwork and by abusing her own body. That woman would have gone for blood sparring with Qurka. That woman would have taken out her frustrations and her lack of answers on herself. She would have raged against her own pain in the gym until she bled. She would have fallen into a glass of Kali Fal. But Mnhei’sahe Dox was working VERY hard to not be that woman anymore.

In truth, Dox was still a very dangerous woman when she needed to be. She kept her training up so that if necessary she would be able to defend her shipmates in any way. But she had pulled back from the almost fanatic level of force she one gave to such endeavors. The kind of training that caused her more harm both physically and mentally. Instead, she worked now to face the causes of her anxiety and anger and address them instead of punishing herself for her feelings. Sometimes it worked. Other times, not as much. Today, she was doing fairly well, all things considered.

So, it was with all of that still on her mind, that she ended her day as she very often did, arriving at her Captain’s quarters to talk.

In her Quarters, Charybdis was currently enjoying the benefits of telepathic offspring whom she had taught to communicate with her while in the womb. While they did not speak nor string together sentences, what they could manage was to make their needs, desires, and wants known. Which was somewhat maddening when they grabbed hold of something they picked up from her and then repeated it endlessly. Currently she was listening to Schubert Symphony number nine replayed from her children for the sixth time. The subtle hints to them to change tunes or to just plain knock it off were having little effect on them, and between having one of them currently shifted to be parked uncomfortably on her bladder and her overall malaise at being pregnant, today was not a good day.

~ENOUGH~ she said telepathically, and that upset both of them, who promptly started making sounds of distress, which while they tore at her heart were somehow, she was ashamed to admit, easier than listening to the same chunk of a symphony over and over again. Waddling back from the bathroom she eased herself onto the comfortable couch Wally had decorated her quarters with, only to decide that it was too soft and be forced to wrestle herself back upright, move to the utility couch she’d had installed that was minimal comfort and drop herself onto it. Finally comfortable for a brief moment, that’s when the door chime sounded.

Of course.

Scanning the hallway she realized it was Dox, but she still had to get up to open the door. Voice activated commands... would it REALLY be that hard? she mused to herself as she hauled her overstuffed mass off the couch and narrowly missed stepping on Sneezy, poking his way out from under the new couch with an adorable sneeze. Arriving at the door, she looked vaguely exhausted as she opened the hatch, eyebrows raised, and an attempt at a patient look on her face.

“Yes, Miss Dox?”

The redheaded Romulan pilot was tired looking herself, but with a decidedly different kind of weight on her than Char was having to deal with. It was still clear on her face as Dox took in the weariness of her Captain and friend.

Immediately, Dox became concerned that she should have predicted this and not bothered Char after hours. “I’m sorry, Captain. This is a bad time, I can just…”

But the anxious helmsman was cut off quickly by that familiar look on her commanding officer’s face, that she knew well enough not to argue with. The one that let her know to stop overthinking.

Offering a dismissive wave as she turned and moved slowly back into her quarters, the cumbersome captain sighed. “There is no convenient time any more. Come in, Dox. Make yourself at home and pardon my lack of formality...” Chary eased herself onto the red velvet fainting couch awkwardly, then got one leg onto it only to have to reach over to grasp the other leg and flop it onto the couch by hand. “... or dignity.”

The standard felt carpeting of the quarters had a surprising layer of soft insulation beneath it, in the dark blue that was the mainstay of the Victory, a personal choice of her captain. In the rectangular glass display case with lights strategically designed to illuminate it was Chary’s old Science Commander uniform, pale blue, far too short, and starched over a mannequin that replicated her dimensions back in those days, which had been impressive, to say the least. A few bookshelves held books, a few still images were displayed tastefully about, magnetized, like the books, to the wall.

The fully half of the large and spacious 4 by 6 meter quarters was taken up by the sitting room, a low, soft couch, a collection of color cushions and a sturdy fainting couch all gathered around a low round coffee table, which had storage beneath it for the plates and utensils Charybdis used when entertaining. The small and modest kitchenette she had built for herself was multifunctional and efficient, and while she was no gourmet, she could follow a recipe, stating that it was ‘just chemistry’ after all.

Beyond the tinted transparent aluminum that doubled as a windscreen, which divided the ‘living room’ from the bedroom, Chary’s bed took up quite a bit of the available space, but she needed it this days, so doctor’s orders. On the nightstand beside the bed was the image of a ruggedly handsome dark-haired man, his image captured in the middle of a laugh. Raine MacGregor, the Scottish highlander who had captured the heart of the raucous Romulan rebel. While she had her love affair with Earth, it was he who had forever cemented the planet as her home.

Not like she’d be returning to Romulus, save on her own terms. But that had to wait a bit longer than she’d planned, it would seem. The open basket at the foot of the bed was empty, and the trouble of Tribbles were currently rolling about the quarters.

“So that was a very interesting day you had. Not one many will ever experience... but, it seems that’s life on the Victory.” Tossing a small throw pillow at the happy helmsman, Char pursed her lips in a smirk. “I’d get you a cup of tea but if I get up again then I’ll have to pee again, and I just don’t have the energy. So here’s something to do with your hands while you talk about it.”

There was no sarcasm, no malice, nor condescension in the tone. Weariness, certainly- in the past year Dox had been witness to the gradual loss of mobility and athleticism the vital Romulan commander possessed. In the here and now, though, she tossed her friend a bone and called her out because she understood, and she had to do something to help.

Such was Charybdis.

With a light chuckle, Dox ran a finger over her ear and smirked. She was in uniform even though she was off duty, but being off duty, her large mass of red curls were loose about her shoulder as her free hand did, in fact, begin fidgeting with the offered pillow. “Indeed. You’ve told me about your own experiences with this. Jessica has as well. I suppose… I’m just…”

The young woman stammered a bit, as it almost seemed as if her eyes were darting around looking for her words. “It was like looking into a mirror. But not some… dark, twisted nightmare or some… idyllic fantasy brought to life. Just… who I was not that long ago. And… there was so much I recognized and remembered. But a lot that… that I didn’t. Like… she wasn’t really me. It was strange.”

“I’m sorry. I’m going on.” Dox said, looking at her friend and feeling a bit guilty for venting, all things considered. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes... in theory I do regain possession of my own body again in a few months... oh, please, children, not now...” Charybdis paused for a few seconds, her eyes closed but pupils moving rapidly beneath, and it was obvious that she was having an internal conversation, likely with her children before she opened her eyes once more and began to wrestle herself upright.

“It’s... oof! It’s simple, Dox. I am putting you under more and more pressure. In addition to your duties as chief helmsman, my second officer, and the additional concerns of simply being my friend and confidant, you also now have been confronted by the path not taken, literally visiting you in your own backyard. All of that’s aside from the very simple fact that life aboard the Victory tends to be anything but dull.” Charybdis looked over at the second officer from beneath her sharply angled brows.

“So yes, Dox. We are not that far apart in age, but... I am... I think, in some ways, I was quite literally made for this. I thrive on stress and conflict and responsibility, and it is unfair that I am placing the same expectation on you. I am treating you as if you are me, and you are not... you are Mnhei’sahe, and I feel as if I am potentially causing you harm at this point.” There was no anger in the starship captain’s voice, nor defensiveness nor accusation- if anything there was the admission of guilt.

“I guess what you can get for me is some peace of mind,” Charybdis sighed as she retrieved a Tribble scooting across the backrest of her fainting couch. Taking the mottled black and brown-furred trilling lifeform to place by her hip, she gently pet the cheery Tribble. Then those violet eyes came up- not sharply, but with concern. “Please tell me she didn’t say anything to upset you, or give you regrets. She... that version of you... had met a version of me, and she held the old woman in high regard. I tend to think she would have obeyed my order, even if she wasn’t under my command.”

“So, Miss Dox, after your visitation, with time to reflect upon it... are you alright?”

"Pretty much, yes. Yes, I am." Dox replied. It was the predominant truth, in spite of the questions swirling about in her head. "As strange and… uncomfortable as the experience was, it reminded me that… a lot of those memories from that life weren't all positive. She reminded me of where I was, before coming here. And regardless of the circumstances of the how… and even though I sometimes feel guilty for it...she reminded me that I am… comfortable here. Moreso than I ever felt I could be. A little more than I think I ever was there."

"And no. She did not tell me anything of any real measure. Well, short of inadvertently telling me that, for her, some of those crew members there are at least still alive by mentioning people in the present tense." Dox added, pacing slightly, as she was wont to do when her mind was busy. "But, yes. She obeyed your order as such. This version of you she met… She… reveres her. I know that look."

“So, tell me what you saw in yourself that you didn’t like,” Char switched to speaking Rihannsu, as the language was more direct for discussions like this, particularly between the two of them. “Not as self-loathing, I would hope, but instead, analytically. With a dash of compassion- let us not be stoic about this.”

“I don’t know what is more difficult for me… being analytical or emotional, in regards to talking about that? About her.” Dox replied with a slightly awkward shrug as she effortlessly slipped into her native tongue. It was far easier for her to form her thoughts when she was feeling conflicted when she also wasn’t searching for the proper words in Federation standard. “

Still fidgeting with the offered pillow, as Char knew she would, Dox was running through her memories of her uncomfortable experience. “She was… trying very hard to keep her emotions locked down. I know how distant and angry I was when I first came here. I haven’t forgotten how much work I needed to do to finally just accept where I was and start moving forward.”

“But… this was different. She approached almost every interaction I had with her as if it was… and interrogation. Some… verbal chess match. Perhaps it was just the circumstance of having been moving from one reality to another. Perhaps it was just her having to look at all of us and not know what to trust.” Dox said, looking at her own feet a bit as she talked, “But it… reminded me of things about myself that I thought I was getting better at. And… some of it reminded me of my mother.”

Then, the anxious Romulan pilot’s eyebrow cricked as she looked down and thought about it and realized she was making a mistake. “Which… isn’t what you actually asked me, I realize. I… answered the question I thought I heard. Or, maybe, the easier to answer question.”

Slightly embarrassed, Dox nodded and pushed past her momentary mistake. “Regarding what I saw that I didn’t like in myself and not her, I… reacted badly to her. I know I did.”

“We worked out some of it, but initially, I viewed everything about her as a judgment on me and my choices and I lashed out because of that.” Dox admitted, somewhat nervously. It was clearly difficult. “Ultimately, I had to accept that I still am holding on to more guilt at being happy here than I was letting myself see.”

“Even knowing everything I do about temporal mechanics and altering the timeline, it…” the redheaded Romulan paused as she considered her own feelings. “There is still a part of me that resents myself for not having tried to return. For choosing to live in the here and now and try and move forward. And… maybe a little anger that...”

Pacing for a moment, it was clear that Dox’s anxiety was building a bit as she had realized a truth that she didn’t want to admit to herself, much less her friend, role model, and Captain. But keeping secrets from Charybdis MacGregor was not just functionally impossible, but also not who Dox was. She trusted Char deeply, on a level only comparable with her trust for Rita Paris back on the Hera.

“When she first appeared on the bridge. When she stumbled against the railing and I hadn’t seen her face yet… just her uniform. A thought entered my mind. And… and it was something so quick and so immediate, and I felt terrible right afterwards for even thinking it… but… but...”

“You thought it might finally be that rescue mission that you’ve always been disappointed that no one tried,” Charybdis said softly. The situation and the emotions behind them were complex, and her voice was soft and kind as she relayed her summation of the situation. “That Rita Paris, of all people, left you stranded in the past. That they could have found you if they had tried, and that they should have. Because you would have torn apart space and time to find one of them, so how were you so casually discarded to the mists of time?”

Listening, Dox’s head sunk in shame hearing the thought that she had tried to ignore spoken back to her so clearly. Her reply was weak as she all but whispered it out at first, “Yes.”

“What I’ve found here…” Dox continued, a bit more strength in her voice as she elaborated on her thoughts, “...You, Jessica, everyone on the Victory… what we do here and have done here… what we CAN still do here… I am legitimately happy for. I truly am. I feel… acceptance here. I feel like… I don’t know if I believe in fate the way she does… but I feel like maybe this is where I was always meant to be, if that makes any kind of sense.”

There was a bit more confidence in her voice, even if it was clear that the anxious helmsman felt the need to explain what was giving her shame. “But, yes. I still… I still get angry sometimes. That nobody from the Hera ever came for me. She… reminded me of all that. Of those feelings I’ve been trying to put behind me.”

“Let me show you something, Mnhei’sahe, that perhaps I should have shared with you before... hand me that PaDD, would you please?” As it was further than her reach, the normally active starship captain would ordinarily just get up and fetch it for herself. But with the waddling mass of her pregnancy, the cumbersome captain just made the best of it, swallowed her pride and asked for help.

Once it was in hand, she tapped away at it until she had accomplished what she was after, and she handed it back to Dox. “It’s only a screenshot, and as you can see, there has been some redaction. But Vice Admiral Dox might have some sway on just why no one ever came after you.”

Onscreen was an image of Mnhei’sahe Dox, considerably older than she appeared today, in a uniform that was somewhat more familiar to her, although still not the era from which she hailed. She was struck by how much like her mother she looked, yet did not. Tall, regal, proud, and with the crow’s feet and laugh lines that indicated a good life. She did not look old nor broken- instead, she looked like a mature woman in her prime.

“When you were assigned here, I... reached out through some unconventional resources at my command, and inquired. Because I planned to slingshot the Victory to get you home. My response was this.... Just the image, and the rank, and the date... 2387.” Charybdis shifted in her seat, clearly still uncomfortable, even as she tried to explain and reassure her officer. “It told me that I was not, in no uncertain terms, to attempt to return you to your own time. I suspect, back on the Hera, a similar search was conducted, and similar discussions were had. While your friend Rita seemed like one to take undue chances, not unlike myself, she would not undo all of history, with a figure so prominent.”

“So I suspect, Mnhei’sahe, that yes, you were meant to be here,” Chary continued softly, hoping this secret she had held back for so long would help in the here and now. “I think there was a very good reason why they did not come after you. For all we know, you might have issued the order yourself. So for what it’s worth to you... somewhere out there are your friends, in the future, near the close of the next century. I don’t think they ever gave up on you- not if they were the caliber of people they were in your memories. Instead, they relinquished you to the role you are to play in history... and with a little luck, they all got to talk about this one day.”

Looking at the image on the PaDD and absorbing the weight of what Char had just told her, a wave of emotions sprung up in the young pilot looking now, at her own future. It was overwhelming and finally, Dox had to sit down.

Almost missing the small couch opposite Char’s own fainting couch, Dox flumped a bit on the cushions as her wide eyes blinked a bit, moisture evident in them. “2387… I would have been… 23. Still in the academy. I think I graduated that year. Heh.”

Working out the details which were swirling in her head, Dox ran her free hand through her hair as she continued. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she let out a somewhat cracked laugh as the emotion simply burst out. “I… can absolutely imagine me making that order. This is… this is… I know it’s not funny... but… this is so perfectly appropriate in some way.”

There was a legitimate smile of unusual relief on Dox’s face as she sat back on the couch, just barely avoiding one of the roving Tribbles as a tear rolled down her cheek as she laughed a bit more, the emotions she had been trying to contain finally finding release.

“I kept it from you as long as I could.... after all, our destinies are not written in stone, as your visitor so casually reminded us,” Char fairly grumbled, her own discoveries from the visitation in no way comforting to her. “I... hope you don’t resent me from keeping it from you. I knew... of your disappointment and I wanted you to work it out in your own time, for yourself. But... I think now you need to know why. They never came for you because you were already there, Mnhei’sahe. Fvadt, you may be the ones sending them on missions, for all we know.”

“You weren’t abandoned, Mnhei’sahe. Never.” Reaching out to grasp her hand, Char grunted with the effort of moving around the beachball her abdomen had become, but she did it anyway. “You were left here rather deliberately, and apparently by a woman older and wiser than yourself, who made damn sure no one destroyed time and space looking for her. She sacrificed a lot for that, but I guess we’ll have to wait a little while before we can ask her in person, hm?”

Wiping a few errant tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, Dox nodded with a legitimate smile as she put the PaDD down and held Char’s hand with both of her own. “No… no, I… thank you. I can’t tell you everything you’ve meant to me over this last year. You didn’t need to reach out to me the way you did. You didn’t need to tell me this now. You had no reason to trust me as you have. But… you did. And that has helped me be the woman I am in the here and now.”

“So thank you for this.” Dox said as she both glanced at the PaDD and squeezed her friend’s hand just a bit, the two meanings clear. “I know that picture can always change. Every step we take means that whoever that woman is might be different from who I’ll eventually become. But whatever happens, I know I have you to support me, and that means everything to me. Even if I don’t always know it.”

“That said…” Dox said with a light chuckle… “I don’t think you need to worry too much about putting too much pressure on me. It… looks like I can handle it.”

“This,” Charybdis indicated her markedly obvious pregnancy, “is an endurance test, and one that I was never particularly prepared for. I was sterilized at age eight, did you know that? Apparently with all of the tinkering that they did they undid that verdict in the process. So while my own sexual education I took on for myself, I have no idea what my people go through nor how they deal with it, so perhaps that has some bearing.”

At that she paused, then sighed as she admitted, ”I will admit, while you have been incredibly supportive and a dear friend, as have so many of my family here onboard the victory... I long for their father. To have him near, to lean on him, physically and emotionally, to relieve... er, stress.”

“I have stifled it as best I could because of the impracticality of the desire, but it is worse now, and it has been so long. I wish I could ask my mother what it was like for her, I wish I could speak to Bonnie McCray and laugh at her tales in person, I wish I could sleep with the arms of my betrothed about me... but I cannot, and none of those things can come to pass, and... it wears on me, to be frank.” It was clear that the admission had cost her, and that she did not wish to be sharing these things, as she had kept most of them bottled up for nearly a year now.

“Then I see how this is affecting you, and it makes me feel as though I am leaning on you too much, and I should be doing otherwise, but I live by instinct and intuition and I do not know what other course to take.” Char flopped back against the backrest of the couch, then waved her hand lazily in the air. “We’ll skip tired and fat and uncomfortable and take those for granted.”

“Your instinct is what guides you, Char. You trust it, and I trust you. Yes, this was a hard couple of days, but I’m getting through it. And I’ll be fine. Better than fine, now. She has her life, and I have mine. And even before you showed me that picture, I had no desire to trade my life.” Dox said, with a bit more of a serious tone in her voice.

“In all truth… if that WAS Rita… or someone from the Hera who had appeared on the Bridge…” Dox crinkled her eyebrows and tilted her head with a slightly awkward expression, “I… don’t know what I would have told them. It’s been a while now since I’ve wanted to go back. Even before I had any idea of what you just showed me… I’ve felt at home here.”

“Often… more than I think I did there.” Dox admitted with a light shrug. “But what about you?in all of this… with her… me... you know.” the redheaded Romulan said, looking at her friend now with a raised eyebrow. “I know she let you into her mind to see that other version of you and what they talked about.”

“She did,” Char said simply, a wariness aroused that Dox was familiar with.

“I’m… guessing what you learned didn’t all sit well with you. Beyond what you know to help prevent anything from happening in sickbay.” Dox added, only knowing the barest knowledge from what had been circulating about the ship since her time-tossed counterpart had left. “You don’t have to go into it if you don’t want to, of course. But that door is always open. You’re my Captain, but you’re also my friend. So that door opens both ways… anytime.”

Uncharacteristically, the curious captain flopped her head back onto the headrest and groaned in frustration. “Yessssss, Miss Dox. She told me of a great many things that I might do and experience, of events that may or may not come to pass, and of deeds and plans I have made, yet not made.”

“Apparently,” Charybdis raised her head and leveled her odd violet eyes on her friend and confidante, “I will go leaping in time. To that precise year, in a coincidence that I find unsettling. I will seek out the records of Starfleet, then surrender the Victory to the Tal’Shiar, bargaining for the crew’s safety. I will escape at great cost, but in doing so I will apparently stop to shame the Imperial Senate, which is certainly something I look forward to, perhaps,” the Vulcanoid vixen chuckled.

“Steal the sword of S’task, and warn them of their doom, because, as Siivas likes to say, the firebird, the harbinger of the end days... I am Romulus’ reckoning,” the uncomfortable woman declared. “I’ll come back, root out the puppeteers and wild talents of the Rikal project and set Starfleet back on course, history righted and our children’s futures bright again.” Reaching down, Chary stroked her hand over her swallowed belly, reassuring her little passengers.

“Have no fear, you two. It was odd, the memories in her mind, because if her memories are to be believed the old woman came to her as a ghost... so who knows? But she said her greatest regret was in not being there for her children. Off saving the galaxy when she needed to be home with the next generation. I thought that would be sooner than later, but...”

Looking up at Dox, Charybdis shook her head. “If I lost everyone in Sickbay... and I was sent back out into the stars, away from my family. If I ventured through time and fought my way through all that she did, only to have Romulus saved, but in the process, be damned. I cannot... I honestly cannot imagine what that would have been like for her, Mnhei’sahe.” The loquacious leader paused, then when she spoke again, her voice was a whisper.

“I’ve been given a second chance. Siivas says he’s isolated the mutation strain and they’re working on a cure. I know... a bit more about the future than I ought to now, again, but that can’t be helped if I’m to time travel specifically for historical archives from the future in order to outmaneuver the present. I wonder...” A thoughtful expression settled onto the pretty woman’s face. “Do you think this was what Bulukiya had in mind when he created the particle? So that he could leap to alternate realities where he could change lives, for the better? Leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that the next leap will be the leap home?"

“Perhaps.” Dox said, considering the question. “But… they do show us that our choices can create separate paths that exist independent of each other. THAT Dox made it back to the Hera and her life kept going. I didn’t, and I found my way HERE. And if I was meant to be here, then maybe I was sent here to help you do what her version of you didn’t. All of it. That tells me if we have the chance to do something to put things right… we should at least always try to do the right thing.”

“What exactly are you driving at, Dox?” The curious captain narrowed her gaze at the portly pilot.

“You were given a second chance. The way it looks to me, so was I,” Dox said as she worked through her thoughts. “Another version of me… who met and befriended another version of you in the future came here. Specifically where we both exist simultaneously and told you about a version of your future. She showed you the decisions that you made.”

“A version where you may have found happiness from what she told us all at dinner… but a version where all… all those prophecies Siivas is always talking about… fell apart.” The anxious aviatrix leaned in a bit, to peer into her friend’s eyes. “I don’t know if Bulukiya created the particles for this purpose… but it certainly seems like you’re being given a chance to do things differently. Be the mother they need when they’re young AND... and still save Romulus’ soul.”

“And… you didn’t have me in that timeline. I’ve already changed things. Everything I DO here changes what might have otherwise happened, and none of it undoes anything in that other Dox’s timeline. We’re not changing history. We’re writing our own. Yesterday, you might have tried to save Earth instead of the Saratoga. Tomorrow… who knows. But it’s your future to write again. You… simply have a more detailed map, now..”

“Yes... yes I do. I also have you, which that version did not.” At that, the beleaguered captain laid her head back, hands unconsciously stroking her broad and swollen belly. When she spoke, her voice was low and quiet, and she did not make eye contact, which was exceptionally rare for her.

“Fiona. When we were together... we were a team, she and I, and I had never had a friend like her before. She was unconditionally supportive, and she gave anything she had... and to this day I still wonder if maybe I didn’t see the signs. That crazy adventure with the slavers.. she was almost killed, and I thought she was alright, but she wasn’t. And then came that night on Risa... all of the craziness that just chases me around the universe all making a night on the town into a nightmare. I never realized she was... well. And then the cabin, the attack, the accident... I just kept moving from moment to moment, surviving, adapting.”

The winsome captain looked over to her friend, eyes bright and shiny with tears. “I was made for this, you see... at least, I imagine that is the case, because I seem to deal with it easily enough. But I forgot that she was a real person, with real people frailties and that all of this continued taking a toll on her. Instead, I leaned on her more and more, and she never spoke a word of it. She just kept working harder and harder and giving more and more until...” At that, Charybdis paused as tears flowed freely.

“I wonder if I killed her, however indirectly. If I leaned on her too much... if I should have seen the signs, if I had been more careful, more mindful that... that people were not meant to live the way that I do. And so when I see signs that perhaps you are under stress, I take an accounting and I look at how much you work, and then I worry. Am I killing you too?” the time-displaced Romulan spy turned starship captain smiled, a small and sad smile devoid of good cheer.

Getting off of the small couch she was sitting on, Dox knelt on one knee in front of Charybdis and put her arms around her Captain and her friend. She knew that the kind of vulnerability she was showing was, in part hormonal, but the two Romulan women had shared a lot in the year they had been serving together. And in any timeline, Mnhei’sahe Dox couldn’t bear to see those she cared about in pain.

“No… no… shhhhh.” Speaking in a low, quiet voice, Dox put a hand behind Char’s head, all but whispering. “You’re not killing me, Char. You saved me. I literally had nothing here. I didn’t exist. You opened up your ship. Gave me a home, and a purpose, and a family when I had nothing else. I will forever be in your debt for that.”

Leaning back slightly, Dox thumbed some of the tears from the violet eyes of her commanding officer. “I work too much. I did it before I came here, and I’d be doing it regardless. It’s how I deal… or don’t deal… when I need to quiet those angry voices in my head. The voices that were so loud before I came here. But they do what I tell them to, now, Char. I’m well. I haven’t hurt myself in a long time now, and I have no intention of going back to that place I was. A lot of that is because of you. So look at me.”

“I know how much losing Fiona hurts you. I do. And I don’t know if there was anything you could have done. But… from what I’ve been told, nobody knew what was going to happen. Not even Siivas.” Dox kept her arms on Char’s shoulders as she nodded, still on her knees. “It was a terrible tragedy. But if she was half as unconditionally supportive of you as you say, then I know she wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for what happened. She wouldn’t want you torturing yourself.”

“Onward, eh?” came the somewhat begrudging reply, with the smile that refused to be hidden.

“Onward, Captain. You tell me the heading, and I’ll fly us there.” Dox replied, a smile cracking her own chubby cheeks.

“I... thank you, Dox,” Chary gripped the arms of the other woman and composed herself, mopping at her eyes, embarrassed by her display. “It comes with the starship,” Charybdis muttered with a half-hearted smile. “You lose the ability to let people know you have problems, neh?”

Straightening up, wiping her face and composing herself as best she could given her inability to get comfortable, Char ended up rolling her eyes in despair, spreading her legs- she had abandoned skirts around month 3- and leaned forward. A wholly unladylike pose, yet one that suited the situation, and enabled her to arch her back and stretch.

“Fear not, Dox, I will heed all of the advantages that have been given to me in this twist of fate. Then you and I are going to make some plans, and see just what we can do to fight the Star Empire, and get their claws out of Starfleet. We have a timetable of five years, give or take. So what do you say, Mnhei’sahe?” Those sharply angled eyebrows wiggled in mischief.

Standing back up, Dox straightened her maroon duty jacket and smiled. "I say those are plans worth making, Captain. We have the advantage of time, and the perspective of history to look at this, and put right what once went wrong."

“Let’s go save the universe... slowly, cautiously and well-planned.” Charybdis laughed at that. “Doesn’t sound like me in the least. Which makes it the perfect plan...

To Be Concluded…

EPILOGUE: Liviana McCray

For an improvisation, it had been a perfect plan.

Seeing the opportunity upon the old lady’s death, she’d handed off the Bulukiya particle data. While Dox was in no way, shape or form inclined to do Liviana McCray any favors, she would associate it with Gran, and like so many others, she’d live or die for Char’s approval. Even after she was dead.

ESPECIALLY after she was dead.

Then it was just a matter of letting slip during an intrusion by Declan Dox that there was another copy of the dimension-spanning particle out there, and he was on top of Dox faster than an eastern European composer on a redhead.

So she tuned the scanners and made a milkshake, and sure enough, the moron triggered the device, and the probability calculators went into overdrive on the Con 7 as he thought about it all. Dox and company were spun off into the multiverse, seemingly at random... unless of course you had an advanced understanding of the particle and could manipulate it to effect.

If you’d redirected a time-traveling vehicle already, with a rather conveniently placed stun charge built into the seat of a barstool in Bozeman, Montana in 2063. Redirecting the vehicle with which you’d already tampered and preset all the courses. All of which would be erased when the ship self-destructed, as instructed, after depositing Dox and Mudd in the prime timeline. At Starfleet Command, in 2285.

The canny Starfleet Intelligence admiral would know what to do, and the rest would follow the course Liviana was redirecting for history.

Sending the one that had actually met Gran, who gotten her story, and knew all of the relevant details of each tragedy ahead and could prevent them all was a masterstroke. Liviana had already decided to use it as penance for her condescension and judgment at the poor old woman’s miserable death. The bridge between two worlds, she who assembled the twelve tribes of Romulus. Who created a new Senate to represent the people. The Rihannsu whose name had been burned, so she chose another, to take the throne of the Star Empire as Empress Talla I. The heroine of the stars who had carried on the family legacy, who brought peace and prosperity to much of the galaxy, with a message of understanding, patience, and compassion.

Deltan philosophies, but no one really noticed, nor seemed to object.

The screwing around in time by the amateurs at the DTI and the particular thorn of Rita Paris and Sonak, and lest she forget, one Captain Enalia Telvan. They had changed the verdict of history, and rerouted time to an alternate track. One that had left the great lady a shuffling old woman in a cottage that smelled like pee.

“History is subjective once you change it, after all. What do you say, should we rationalize with some predestination paradox, or do you just wanna call this ‘Operation Screw You, I’m Fixing It’? I’m leaning toward the latter myself...”

The murmuring of Con 7 reverberated throughout the hull, as he tended to do when communicating. In that way he was not unlike a biotechnological space whale, which was something that pleased the redheaded menace to space and time considerably.

“No, sweety, you’re paradox shielded, so we’ll always be fine. But I’ve got a plan to put history back on course again. Because I’ve seen the Romulan Star Empire of the future, and it’s just... sad. Gran was right- they need that jolt to the system, to have that smug security yanked out from under them. The secret police and the spying on one another and the backstabbing... it all has to end. Our people need to be better than that... even if it takes a mudblood like me to save them.” Grinning at no one in particular, the buxom bombshell shrugged, a rather seismic action.

“Even if no one will ever know I had anything to do with it...” Pausing, a slight from on her flawless face, the bioengineered beauty reconsidered.

“Best if no one ever does, come to think of it.”

The sensation was uniquely different from the other leaps. This time, the Bulukiya particles that had been built up within the body of Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox that had been moving her across the multiverse to encounter one version of herself after another, were finally spent.

As the familiar blue flash of incandescent light faded, Dox could feel them pull from her this one last time, and as reality began to coalesce around her, she could feel their absence. Unlike the past 12 leaps, they were no longer building back up in her system. It was over, and she was home.

And it was strangely dark.

Standing for a moment, Dox blinked a few times to get her bearings. Just a few seconds ago, she had been standing on a completely different starship one hundred and eleven years in the past. Her hands were closed around two of the strange mementos she had brought back with her from the even stranger adventures. She was in her quarters, standing exactly where she had been when her and Rita Paris’ grandson from the future unleashed the Bulukiya particles and sent them all careening into an ever-increasingly bizarre series of elseworlds and what-if dimensions. But the room seemed empty. The decorations of the birthday party that had been held here were gone, and the chamber that she shared with her bond-mate, Mona Gonadie, was cleaned up and normal.

The lights were low and it didn’t appear that anyone was there. By her best estimate, she had been gone for some 36 to 37 hours, but didn’t know if that time had elapsed here on the Hera, but as she looked around, it was clear, that some time had passed. On some level, she began to worry if she truly was home, or if she was in yet another reality that just looked like her familiar quarters on the Hera.

The question of that, and if she was alone, was quickly answered by the sound of a gentle snore from just behind her.

Jerking defensively, Dox was startled by the unexpected sound, but relaxed quickly enough when she identified the source of the sound, Seated on her comfy couch in the living room, her face propped up on one hand, was Commander Rita Paris.

The golden-clad officer had been standing right next to Dox when she had vanished, and she half expected her to reappear at the same time and place. But it would appear that Rita had been here long enough to fall asleep, which was making Dox more than a little worried that she wasn’t quite home yet.

“Computer, slowly raise the lights to 25 percent, please?” Dox asked, a question in her tone, before the lights began to raise gently.

“Uh… Rita? Rita, are you okay?” the redheaded Romulan asked in a somewhat delicate tone.

Starting awake, the buxom bombshell looked startled for all of a second, then a broad smile split her face as she leapt off the couch to engulf the smaller woman in a fierce hug. “You have NO idea how worried I’ve been about you!!!”

Returning the hug, Dox kept her hands balled to keep a hold on the gifts she had been given, but nonetheless less squeezed tight to the woman she considered a sister, taking a long breath as she did. “I’m… I’m okay. I’m okay Rita. I’ve been worried about all of you as well. What’s… where is everyone? Did everyone make it back? Am I the last?”

The questions were a bit frenetic, as Dox worked to calm herself down. It was clear to Rita that, even before their embrace, that the anxious aviatrix had been crying before she had come back from a bit of green around the edges of her shiny eyes.

“Yeah... everyone made it home safely. Mine was a little off because of relative time flows, but you know me.... If there’s a rule of physics I’ll find a way to break it.” Pulling back a bit, Paris studied the face of the young Romulan woman, and one eyebrows rose slightly. “What’s wrong.... What did you see?”

Realizing that her somewhat raw, emotional state was clearly on display, Dox brought a hand up and rubbed her eyes dry with a thumb and smiled a bit awkwardly. “I saw… a lot, really. Arguably… too much. But this… this last one was… well. Emotional. Not really… bad, though. Good, in its own strange way, really.”

Thinking about it a little, the entire experience was hard to sum up, but if there was literally anyone in all of space and time that would understand, it was Rita Paris. Holding out her left hand, Dox opened it up to show Rita the Starfleet badge that she had been given by Charybdis McGregor on the Victory. The Starfleet badge that hadn’t been used on a uniform in well over a century.

“I... don’t think I recognize that one,” the pretty pilot’s brows came together in concern, then she recalled where she had seen it- on the breast of the statue of James T. Kirk at Arlington. “Wait... that was... wasn’t that the maroon monster delta? After the minidress era and Dentists In Space, wasn’t this the Starfleet delta for decades?”

“The better part of… I believe seven decades, yes.” Dox replied looking down at the badge in her hand.

“I suppose… you weren’t the only one to break the rules a bit.” Dox said with an awkward chuckle. “We weren’t supposed to move in time… but… there was a version of me out there… well… doing their very best impression of you.”

“She… she got lost. Stuck in the past, during the Mudd mission. One Hundred and Eleven years in the past.” Dox continued, filling in just the slightest bit of the details of what had been her last 18 hours.

“Great Hera, was she alright? Did they have her in prison? Are YOU all right?” Taking Dox by the arm, the first officer guided her to sit down, her concern for the woman plainly evident. Apparently whatever trials and tribulations the Starfleet siren may have encountered were swept aside to focus on the sensitive junior officer for whom she had been maintaining a vigil for hours, determined to be here when she arrived. She was only mildly chagrined that she’d fallen asleep- but then, it had been a very long few days.

Following Rita’s lead, Dox sat on the couch and placed the vintage badge on the table and opened her other hand. In it, the modern ‘twin tower’ delta design that had been given to her there as well. She took that badge and put it on her uniform in place and took a breath.

“She’s fine. I’M fine. Actually… as strange as it is to say so… she’s… doing good. She’s not in prison, she’s on a SHIP. A Constitution class… the Refit model. She’s… made a life for herself there. She made Second Officer before me, actually. Heh.” Dox said with the hint of a smile. “Her CAPTAIN gave me this.”

“As… impossible as it should be… it was Charybdis MacGregor. The Admiral that I told you about when we were on Earth for those debriefings. The SAME woman who’s granddaughter gave me that data crystal.” Dox looked up at Rita with a slightly overwhelmed expression. “Tossed back in time, a different me ended up getting to continue her career in Starfleet on an intel ship… with the same woman that she never met, but that I did. It’s… a lot to process.”

“That all sounds a bit too convenient to be coincidental... or is that just me being paranoid?” Rita mused, then those brows lowered. “You were gone a long time, Mnhei’sahe. Thirty seven hours and some change. You were in for the full dozen leaps. I had faith you’d survive, but...are you all right? Come on, it’s just you and me here. R&D have kept Mona distracted and they’re not due back for an hour or so. For now, just us, off the record. Or would you like some time to process it all?”

“Physically, I’m fine.” Dox said, hanging her head a bit as she reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a small, folded paper. “I mean… I got knocked around a bit. One version of me… well… two actually… knocked me out cold. But the last leap was on the Ship, so I got some rest and they gave me a basic exam. But…”

With her voice cracking on her last word, Dox handed Rita the paper and a tear came down her face. “I… saw a lot of different versions of me. Of ways that my life could have gone. And… a lot of them were bad. But some of them… one in particular… I can’t get out of my head.”

Unfolding the paper, it was an older-style printed photograph. The kind that Rita knew Dox preferred to 3-D images or holograms. And on it, was a family photo of smiling faces. Dox’s Grandmother, her mother Jaeih, a young black haired girl with a rounded face very much like Mnhei’sahe’s, and a man that Rita didn’t immediately recognize.

Closing her eyes, a few more tears came out as Dox spoke, her voice a bit broke. “I… I met him, Rita. In a place where my Mother never left Romulus. Where a different version of me grew up there. I… I met my father.” As she said the word, she looked back up at her friend, her eyes sad, but with a purse-lipped smile.

Silently enveloping her friend in a hug, Rita let her cry it out, soothing her hair and making shooshing noises. Dox had only met her father twice, and only once when she knew it was him- only to watch Dalia Rendal execute him. Soothing her, Rita spoke in hushed tones.

“You got to speak to your father... was he... kind?” Rita, unfortunately, knew all about lousy father figures, and she braced for what answer might come.

Taking another long breath, Dox composed herself. In spite of her rest on the Victory, the events of the last 37 plus hours were clearly beginning to catch up with her. For just a second, her only reply was a somewhat delicate nod before she finally spoke. “He was… everything I ever imagined. If he hadn’t given me this… I would have thought I was dreaming. He was… a good man.”

The sense of relief that washed over Paris was palpable, as she relaxed a bit, and fished a hankie out of her cavernous cleavage to hand over to Dox. “Good... I’m glad you got that chance to meet him, and see him... for who he should have been, the man he was.”

“Thank you.” Taking the hanky, Dox calmed down and wiped her eyes. They young pilot knew a good deal about Rita’s horrible relationship with her own father, and her hesitation in asking if Dox’s father was kind spoke volumes to the Romulan woman. “What about you, Rita? You said you got back earlier somehow? What happened to you? You were right next to me, you should have been gone just as long as I was?”

“Ah... well, you know me...” Rita waved airily. “I ended up back on Kathoom- that pocket dimension I ended up in for a few months when the Vulcans decided that beaming me ship to ship at warp 9.2 would be fine? Well, time flows differently there, so I spent the time, but I ended up back here long before you. I’ve been keeping Mona and the kids busy in the meanwhile to keep them from worrying about you.”

“So... what else did you see?” Rita asked, with a note of caution in her voice. “What path not chosen did you experience? I only knocked myself out once, so you got one over on me...?

Raising an eyebrow, Dox looked at Rita quizzically. “I appreciate you looking after them while I was gone. It was… uncomfortable. In no other reality did those girls exist. And… I was only with Mona in one timeline and… that was not a particularly good one.”

“But, you said you were gone just as long as I was? What happened on Kathoom?” Dox asked with a more serious expression, genuinely concerned.

At that, in a markedly uncharacteristic move, Rita Paris looked bashful and self-effacing. “Well, apparently her Sonak never rescued her, so.... She lived out the rest of her life there, trying to build a better society. Which wasn’t exactly what I found when I arrived, so I... kinda led a peaceful societal revolution and did my best to fix what was wrong, and help them back on the path of a better system of governance.”

Rolling her eyes to the overhead, Rita sighed. “I’m not sure if I am going to get by the Starfleet Board of Ethics on this one, but I’ll submit my logs and let them judge me. But... I think I did it right. As well as one can be expected when you show up and they think you’re a living god and the church is an oppressive organization hoarding all the resources in your name.”

“So… a version of you ended up getting worshiped as a god and you worked to fix it?” Dox said, only a little surprised by the unusual nature of Rita’s adventure.

“I neither confirmed nor denied my divinity. I may have performed a few ‘miracles’ but I introduced myself very clearly and identified myself as a Starfleet officer, but... uuuugh. Computer?” Rita asked the overhead. “Please record this conversation as the first informal briefing for the Bulikaya affair.”

=^= Of course, Commander. =^= the computer replied, before Rita launched in.

“I’m being an idiot,” Rita shook her head with a wry expression. “I’m treating you like you’re some china doll that I have to handle with kid gloves, and we’re past all of that. All right, in order, let’s recount.”

“Leap 1... wormhole! I was still being held by the Prophets, the Bajoran wormhole aliens. And when I popped up and they had two ‘Lost Navigators’ they were super excited, and they tried to keep me there. But the particles decayed and in trying to hold me there they kind of tore me apart. So they wound back time because time is immaterial to them blah blah blah, and they reconstituted me, then let me go.” Sitting back, Rite held her hands palms upward toward Dox.

Nodding, Dox sat up a little straighter, being able to recount what had happened in a more structured way. It was comforting in a strange way as she replied. “My first leap. I was on the bridge of a… T’Varo class Romulan ship, but Artan run. My counterpart was a Baroness and in command of the ship. They were running a mission of some sort against Romulan Warbirds before I vanished.”

”Not a real surprise at least one career with the Artans, Enalia’s been after you since she read Mona’s first report. Leap two,” Rita began, then blushed deeply. “Oh, Hera help me, we were all still on Talos IV.... the forbidden planet, death sentence, yadda yadda? Me and Sonak and Michael Stuart and Ronald Tracey and Vina, all in a very... open and intense sexual relationship. It was equal parts arousing, alarming and alienating. Yours?”

Rita squirmed a bit in her seat after the recollection, trying to cover it as just readjusting herself on the couch.

Smiling a bit, Dox wasn’t quite sure she had ever seen Rita quite this exact shade of embarrassed, but she had no intention of saying anything to make her friend feel any more uncomfortable. “Two. I was on Earth. Ohio, I think.”

Rubbing an ear just a bit, Dox continued. “Not the same house I spent my teenage years in, but close. There was a version of me that never went into Starfleet. Still looked human, but thought I was a Tal’Shiar assassin because they apparently had been coming for her for a while. Apparently had already killed my Mother at some point. I was only there a minute, but she came about a centimeter from disrupting my head off.”

“Yikes! Well, know that feeling too,” Rita nodded with a guilty expression. “Alright, Jump three, what was... uuuugh. It was the Worldship- Log’yarm/// had kept us all as pets, fed us until we were immobile and dumbed us down to children. It was hellish. I... couldn’t do anything about it. That one’ll haunt me a bit. You?”

Leaning back slightly on the couch, Dox sighed for a moment. “Yeah. Haunted I get. So… number three.”

Looking out the curved windows into space, Dox’s voice dropped just a bit. “She was here, on the Hera. She was a version of me that never recovered from letting those men die in the Brig. She never found out that the fusion between Schwein and Death had caused a corruption of the aura that had affected her. She was on the flight deck, with her hand on the purge button.”

“She was about to commit suicide. Blow herself into space. She had been demoted. Broken. And….” Dox paused as she looked down at the ground. “And she thought that I was Death. And… I only had a minute, so I let her believe it so that I could try and tell her that what happened wasn’t entirely her fault. That she had been affected. I… have no idea if I helped or not.”

“You did what you could... that’s all anyone could ask. I hope she’s alright out there,” the compassionate commander reached over to stroke the arm of the returned traveler. “Okay, so, four, which one was... oh, Planet Hera. Meroset 347, I’d been turned to a statue, no idea what happened to Asa. I know Herapolis surprisingly well, so I evaded and was going to get away clean, then out of habit I thanked Hera, and she caught me. Tore through my mind looking for how I could be a worshipper who wasn’t afraid of her. She knew me, then she let me go. I don’t know if I got through to her, but... hey, I reached our Hera. So there’s always hope.” That one was... scary, but not necessarily bad, you know? Okay, four to you.”

“If she went through your mind… saw how you feel about her… then there’s more than hope, there.” Dox said, working up a light smile before pursing her lips. Dipping her head a bit, she whispered under her breath. ”Hope?”

“My… uh… fourth leap. It was… different. I appeared in a medical facility on… where was it… Europa. The moon. The other me was sedated and there was nobody else around.” Dox said, nervously fidgeting just a bit before re-composing herself again. “Then, before I knew it, I passed out and reappeared on what I thought was the Hera, but it was really inside of her mind.”

“She was a version of me that… didn’t go to Sonak and ask him to help train her mental defenses. This version of me… she took HERA’S offer to have herself… awakened. She had her nascent mental abilities completely opened hoping it would help her stop GAIA.” Dox said, looking over to Rita and shaking her head. “Instead, she ended up reabsorbing that shard of Gaia… and with those abilities getting stronger and stronger, she panicked. She… pulled Mona into her mind and killed her by accident.”

On the couch beside her, Rita blanched, and put her hand on Dox’s arm to squeeze it gently.

Closing her eyes, Dox took a breath and continued. “Inside her mind, she interrogated me, trying to figure out if I was real or just a hallucination. She… was completely broken. They kept her sedated on Europa so her mind couldn’t pull anyone in. Doctor Power and Kodria were there to help take care of her since they were hologrpahic, but… inside her mind. Mona was still there. Still alive, in her mind. She had buried Mona as deep as she could out of guilt… but I… helped her awaken Mona before she let me out of her mindscape.”

“I… think I helped her.” Dox said, looking down at her feet for a second before looking back up. “But… I was only there a few minutes, but in her head, it felt like about an hour.”

“Wow. That one is.... sobering. There but for the grace of god indeed, huh?” Rita tried to frame the experience, but it wasn’t anything to be judged now. This was far more important for them both to get it out and recount what they’d seen. “How are you coping with that one?”

“All things considered, in this case it was more but for the grace of the god of Kathoom that I listened to, here.” Dox replied with a slightly awkward smile. “But… yeah. It’s… one of a lot of what happened I’m trying to process and not really having the easiest time with, really.”

“Seeing all of these ways my life could have gone so differently. It’s...humbling.” Dox finished. “How are you doing with it all?”

“Well, for starters- please don’t call me that. Not even in jest. Finding yourself as the central figure of a religion was... deeply uncomfortable. Every action I took, every word I said was liable to become scripture before someone else came along and turned it to their own purpose. But you do what you can with what you have where you are, right?” Rita shrugged, then took a deep breath as she looked to the overhead.

While Rita was looking up, Dox bit her bottom lip a bit, embarrassed at having inadvertently upset Rita, but letting her continue.

“Jump... five now, that would be- ah. The Exeter had gone to investigate the Great Barrier at the edge of the galaxy, and I had become empowered, like Gary Mitchell. Except I hadn’t become an asshole. I was relaxing on the beach on Risa waiting for a tutor in omnipotence, who shoved me along a little quicker than I was supposed to. I guess being omnipotent means never having to put up with unwanted company.” Rita judiciously did not draw the ‘goddess’ parallel, somewhat awkwardly realizing it in the moment.

LIstening, Dox nodded. She had noticed not just that parallel but the fact that two stories in a row where each of them had become bizarrely empowered. “In that last leap, Charybdis said that she suspected that the Bulukiya Particles moved those exposed to them with a purpose. Sometimes… that Idea was hard not to think of through all of this.”

“A lot of this seemed like it was trying to show me… specific things.” Dox said, standing up and starting to pace a little as she was wont to do. Then, looking up, she continued. “Five. Leap five.”

“This one. This was the first good one, really. I was… on a farm. A beautiful farm on Mol Krunchi. I was… I was just a farm girl there. A little thicker. Black hair and no freckles, but I was basically happy there. My mother… she had decided to stay there. No… no smuggling. No DNA modification.” Dox finally smiled a real and unguarded smile as she looked at Rita, recounting one of the few directly positive leaps. “She was restless. She wanted to go exploring. But she also had a girlfriend she didn’t have the nerve to tell her Jaeih about. I don’t know what happened… but I hope she did. She was genuinely… happy. It was… wonderful to see, really.”

“Awwww! A farm girl dreaming of exploring the stars? It does sound rather wistfully romantic. I hope you lent her the courage she needed,” Rita grinned, glad to hear of a positive tale. “So, leap 6, I... ended up on the Constitution, which meant I was still trapped as a ghost on the ship. I stole a tricorder and hammered out the calculations as best I could recall them, and I was plugging it in and rerouting power when Security dragged me away. I didn’t get to save her, but... maybe, right?” In Rita’s eyes there was that need to believe that maybe she might have saved that poor doomed ghost of a girl, the lost navigator of the Constitution.

“Fvadt…” Dox said, muttering ‘damn’ in Romulan, shaking her head and grinning a bit. “So, both of us have a lot of these that end in us hoping we did something, don’t they?”

“I hope they found her.” Dox added, nodding. “That couldn’t have been easy for you. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah... but the universe is not unkind, you know?” Rita perked up with her usual optimism, that seemingly unshakable belief that the universe somehow had a conscience. “And like your friend said, maybe it was sending us where we needed to go. What was your sixth leap?”

“The Forager.” Dox replied, sitting back down on the couch. “I appeared right in the cargo bay of the kreldanni smuggling ship I grew up on. And there I was still altered to appear human, and of all people, it wasn’t my mother there with me. It was Declan. The Real one.”

Retelling this tale, it was clear it was a very open wound for Dox still as her tone got a bit gruffer and her anger was showing through at the memory. “She was still a smuggler WITH him. But, it turned out that she had recently found out the truth about who her real father was. And, that apparently, my Mother had been caught and killed by Naussican bounty hunters sixteen years or so prior, because Declan had sold her out for a portion of the reward. It was one con on top of the other. It was… they deserved each other.”

“Yeeeesh, that’s. Wow. You feel for her, with a lifetime of bad choices and no one to turn to, she’d feel so trapped,” Rita hypothesized, imaging the alternate Dox’s mindset. “Well, my seventh leap was far less grim that that. I was out of Starfleet, if I’d ever been in. Married to Will Decker for years, with kids, still living under my father’s roof. I popped up at the party where they were going to announce that Will was going to be promoted to captain, and take command of the refit for Enterprise. I don’t know if you know Commander Will Decker’s history...”

“Will... Decker?” Dox pondered. “The Enterprise… The Commander who was lost in what was called the… V’Ger incident?” Dox said, raising a brow slightly. “I remember reading about it in the academy. He… vanished or something, which now considering our own service records, tells me there was more to it?”

“All I know is he was lost along with his ex-girlfriend, a Deltan girl. A navigator of my acquaintance. Kind of a bitch, honestly,” Rita added in an uncharacteristic snide remark, which spoke volumes about the person in question. “Long and short, tried to warn Rita Decker- oh, and you would not believe how skinny she was! I think she was living on a vitamin a day. At any rate, I wandered the party, got hit on by my own brother, saw my father, but... I didn’t want to ruin her party more than I already had and make a scene with the old man. She’d carry on the Decker legacy for Matt, and her life would be fine. They’re another Starfleet legacy, like the Paris’ and the Yakamuras and the Patels...””

There was a pause, and as Rita spoke the words, tears came to her eyes. “It was... It was really nice seeing the old house again, though. I got to watch the sunset from the backyard I grew up in, and it was... it was like coming home, you know?”

"All things considered, I… actually do." Dox said, smiling more broadly, happy to hear the story. The memory was clearly a mostly positive one, which was another nice break in the tone that Dox followed up with a light grin. "So, when you say 'skinny', how skinny is that?"

“Like if O’Dell were my height. No, seriously, I kid you not! Just tiny little arms, she was light as a bird, I swear! Living with my father likely kept her bulimic. Still a decent pair of cupcakes on her, though,” Rita admitted with a smirk that turned into a laugh. “Alright, your turn. Lucky 7, where did you end up?”

Letting herself chuckle, Dox thought about her next leap, and how to classify it. She was still not 100% sure if it was bad or good. Perhaps, like who she talked to there, it was more complicated than that. "Ahh, 7. It was a hodgepodge space station called, of all things, the World ship bar and grill."

"Yes, that worldship." Dox added. "The me I met there was a… very, very angry woman. She througly laid me out, actually. Laid me out because she thought I was some kind of dream made manifest by the God of Stories, Anansi."

As she said the name she had spent the last two years being afraid of, she chuckled slightly at how easily it came to her now. "That version of me… she gave him Mona's sensory helmet. She took off, though I think she was Artan as well from the patch on her jacket. But he was there. The whole thing was… some kind of construct. A perfect fantasy life he gave her as a reward. The helmet… it gave him power over DREAMS as well and he made her dreams come true, but she was miserable for it."

"I really didn't get to talk to her much, but he and I… well… I think I have a better understanding of him now." Dox finished, nodding as she did. "I think… somehow… he was the same version I met. He remembered our specific encounter, as if there might only be ONE version of him that crosses realities."

"All in all… I'm glad to have made some peace with that. What about your next one?"

“That’s huge, Dox! I know how much he got to you, and you were...” Rita paused to fish for an appropriate phrasing, “very serious about mental defenses afterward. Sonak doesn’t teach and tell, but... anyway, I’m glad to hear you found some peace with him.”

To Be Continued…

“My eighth jump I was still in San Francisco... but at the Starfleet graveyard. Apparently in this reality, enough of me made it back to the transporter pad for them to have something to bury.” Rita visibly shuddered at the thought. She’d seen the footage of what had happened to Sonak in this reality, and had a very good idea what had happened to her counterpart there. Here in an informal briefing in the living room of the woman Rita considered the ship’s second officer in spite of her actual position, she could let a frailty show and react honestly, stoicism aside.

Turning a bit on the couch, Dox knew quite well Rita's fully justified fears of transporters. There was palpable trauma there, and it showed. Placing her hand on top of her friend's, Dox squeezed Rita's hand gently but firmly and gave her a moment.

“Long and short, I called my brother Albert, told him enough big sister dirt that he had to believe it was me, and I left the channel open when I confronted the old man.” Drawing herself erect, Rita preened a bit. “You would have been proud of me. I manhandled him, I slapped him like he owed me money and I got him to confess... not just to my murder, but to mom’s as well. I mean, I figured it out, but... to hear him admit it...”

"Validated a lifetime of questioning?" Dox added, a hint of a question in the statement and a smile for Rita's moment of pride. "Not just the question of what happened, but… questions about yourself. 'Am I strong enough to say what I've always wished I could? If I had the chance to face him, could I?' I'm glad you had the opportunity to face those demons, inside and out."

“I did... and yes, it did give some closure. Who knows, maybe I got through to Albert, and he’ll not turn out to be another Paris family turd,” Rita chuckled, but in her heart she did hope she had helped her brother, long dead and gone in this reality.

"It… really does feel like there was a guiding hand in all this?" Dox added, thinking about the encounters seriously for a moment. "It… says something that in more than one reality each, we ended up someplace where meeting ourselves wasn't the point. Where we got to face our fears and doubts and come to grips with that all and get some measure of… closure. One way or another."

“I would definitely say the particle’s choices of universes is far from random,” Rita agreed, having had time to give this some thought while she waited for the last crew member to return from her dimensional odyssey. “The versions of ourselves we encountered or the lives we visited all seemed to be directed by some form of intelligence, or at least a plan of some sort. I mean, in no universe did we encounter slight variations of our own lives. In all cases they were widely divergent from the timeline we know. So it does definitely bear investigating... or at least it would if our thief of time and space hadn’t made off with the only sample of the particle.”

"Indeed." Dox replied with a bit of a sigh. "Part of me expected him to come back here, but with his tech and foreknowledge, I imagine he might have been able to navigate HIS leaps. He indicated something to that effect."

"That I'm still having trouble with." Dox admitted with a bit of reservation. "That he's OUR Grandson. And that he would do something like this."

That gave Rita pause, and she considered her answer before speaking. “I imagine... if our lives were to continue, and our careers were to continue as they are... imagine trying to live up to that family dynasty? Imagine the pressure he must have been under, as a child of both of our legacies? We cast long shadows now, Mnhei’sahe. Imagine how much longer they are liable to be by the time we have grandchildren? Look at your relationship with YOUR grandmother, and how influential she is on you and your choices?”

“I suspect this may be adolescence meeting brilliance and fearlessness and who knows what else. But, if it’s any consolation, apparently I’m already on the job... well, future me at least, chasing him down through time and space, So we’ll have to count on me being good enough to catch him in my old age,” Rita smirked. The concept that her future self had arrived after her local self had disappeared was amusing to her, as somehow it seemed oddly fitting, giving the unpredictable nature of her adventurous life.

Having only just arrived back, however, Dox's initial reply was a raised eyebrow and a generally perplexed expression. "Future you? Was… that another leap of yours?"

“No.... apparently after we all vanished an older version of me showed up. You can review the security footage, but it looks like I haven’t forgotten how to work an EVA suit, and honestly, I was kind of impressed how well I’ve held up forty odd years later,” Rita chuckled. “Scared the dickens out of Kodria and Maica...”

"I will… absolutely have to watch that. Sounds like things didn't get any less interesting while we were gone." Dox said, chuckling a bit herself as her mind went back to the birth of her children and the unexpected appearance of a Rita Paris from the future in an EVA suit. A Rita that had asked Dox to not mention the incident to this Rita, which was something the red-headed Romulan had no intention of going back on.

As such, she went back to the subject of Declan. "What's worse… is that we don't know what about us, or legacies or behavior that lead to his actions here. We go into temporal paradox territory where if we try and react, that could be what causes it eventually. So… who's next?"

“Ahhhh... I covered roughing up my dear old dad the murderer, so I think that’s seventh... no, eigth leap to you,” Rita recounted, rising to head for the replicator to get them some drinks and a snack.

"Right." Dox replied as she ran the leaps through her head to remember where she was before remembering and pausing for a moment. Rather than launching into the specifics of her last leap, Dox took a breath and looked down for a moment, at that picture of her Romulan family. Of the image of her grandmother, smiling from another universe.

"So… last year… when I was on that ship for over a month. On the Warbird… for those first two or so weeks, before Rendal revealed her plan and took over the ship, when it was just my Grandmother doing everything she could to convince me to follow her…" as Dox spoke, she trailed off for a moment, shitting her eyes to center herself.

"While I did eventually pull back and stop… for a while… I was letting her get into my head." The anxious young woman sheepishly admitted. "I… she was giving me what I'd always wanted. Family. A mother's approval. The promise of a place I was always meant to be where I would belong. She told me stories of the family I had on Romulus and what could have been mine."

"And… I don't like admitting it, Rita… but for those first few weeks before my Mother reminded me of who I was… I… began to want to take her up on her offer." It was a difficult admission, even having said so to the gilded Commander before. "I went along at first, just to bide my time and either stall long enough to either be rescued or find a way to escape, but I was trying to play her game and I was losing. Hard."

Looking back up at Rita, Dox nodded lightly as she continued. "THIS version of me… she did."

"We were on Romulus. In my Grandmother's office. The one we saw in the holo-communications. And… the version of me I met there was a woman who accepted my Grandmother's offer." Dox said, nervously as if the alternate versions choices reflected upon her. "She willingly defected and was training to succeed Verelan in the Senate."

"Being there, I got to see exactly what I would have had to give up to go there and live that life." Dox said, pondering the fate she had only narrowly avoided. "she… was becoming what Verelan wanted her to be. She dyed her hair black. She was going to be married off to Verelan's Centurion. And she was becoming very good at playing the Romulan game."

"It was… very much a wake up call in a lot of ways." Dox said, nodding a bit as she sat up a bit straighter.

“How so?” Rita returned with a pair of mugs of tea, and a plate of pizza rolls, of all things.

Taking one of the offered mugs, Dox took a sip and considered her response. “It was a very large reminder that if I try to deal with my grandmother on her terms… like she wants with that proposed visit to Romulus… it will very likely end in some way in her favor and very against my own.”

“I need to… rethink a lot of things about that relationship. I… still want to be able to help. But seeing just how much control she had over that version of me really showed me that I need to find a better way. ” Dox added with a bit of a smile as she eyed the small wrapped snack before picking one up and giving it a sniff before smiling and trying one.

“Mmmm. Like a tiny little Pizza. These are good, thanks.”

“It’s earth kid’s food, but they seemed appropriate,” Rita admitted. “Well.... clearly you want a relationship with her, but it definitely needs to be on your own terms... I have to say, all of these ‘leaps’ all seemed to show me something, good or bad. To be frank, they’ve got me re-examining my priorities myself. Am I really doing the best thing possible running around the galaxy in a miniskirt stomping out brush fires and mentoring junior officers? Or should I be doing more?”

Taking another of the pizza rolls, Dox nodded. “Something about… literally 12 different perspectives does make one rethink things. What we do here is important. We’ve literally saved planets. Systems. But yes. I’m wondering much the same after all of this. It’s… a lot to process.”

“For both of us.” Dox added, grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth off. “So… what about your next leap?”

“Let’s see, leap number nine was... the Exeter, in 2270,” Rita recounted, a sad smile settling onto her face. “I’d never been lost on Aijon Prime, so Sonak and I were still serving with Stuart on the Exeter. That one was... interesting. When I was the plucky gal sidekick to the two heroes, I was a different person, and it was... interesting to see. And I got to see Michael again... not naked, fortunately- and that was nice. Seeing the old girl was certainly nostalgic, and... who knows. Maybe I gave them a chance to save themselves, with the pocket universe collapse and all that.”

“It did show me how far I’ve come from that plucky gal sidekick, though. She was pretty threatened by me, and Stuart...” Rita shook her head with a wry grin. “I’d forgotten how hot-headed Michael could be. I think he never fully forgave Sonak for wooing me... not that he did much wooing, mind you, I was fascinated by the Kolinahr. But seeing them all together, standing outside the situation, I could see it. Poor Michael... not the best of captains, not the best of men, but he tried, and as long as we were there to help him, he did all right. I hope their universe doesn’t collapse.”

“I can’t pretend to understand the science of it, but considering the raw number of alternate timelines we’ve just moved through and the ones we do know about like the Mirror universe, that all seem to be stable, I would have to imagine that it’s a possibility.” Dox said, looking over at Rita and smiling. “So, I hope that whatever happens, that they do figure it out. I’m glad you got to see them again, though. Them, and the ship you remembered as it was. I’m really very glad for that, Rita.”


“Yeah.... it was... bittersweet. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to Michael,” Rita admitted, “not again.” The anachronistic astronaut was silent for a moment before she changed course and redirected. “Okay, leap number nine for you?”

“Number nine.” Dox said, rubbing a finger over her ear as she didn’t have to think about the leap in question. “Number nine… was on Rendal’s ship. There I got to meet the version of me that did get broken by the Neural Extraction Converter. The version of me that Rendal remade into her perfect, twisted… apprentice. Her Sub-Commander.”

“Ewwwwwww... okay, that really has to be pretty horrible. And long by that point. Oh my... alright, go on.” The concern was evident on the compassionate commander’s face as her fellow starfarer relayed her tale.

“THAT was the one that just… kicked my ass. I appeared in her ready room before she showed up, and went through her computer. I got to see the recording she sent to Starfleet, defecting. Then, she showed up. We talked for a few minutes, but as soon as I tried to move, she knocked me out.” Dox told the story a bit more plainly than she had the others, but her anxiety at recounting it was high.

“When I woke up, I was strapped to that kreldanni machine again. Her AND Rendal standing over me, trying to find out not only how I arrived there but how I had escaped in my reality.” Continuing, Dox began to wring her wrists a bit and purse her lips. “And… when I refused to answer her, she decided that even if I was going to vanish, she could still run me through her machine and send back another… loyal apprentice.”

“That woman really is a menace. I’m going to have to throw her at a sun or something one of these days. No,” Rita snapped her fingers, “Black hole. Gotta be positive. Anyway, so... did you resist it again?”

“My head was still ringing from having been knocked out. I had no idea how long I had been out and so, didn’t know how long I had left before I would leap again, and I was exhausted.” Taking a breath, Dox realized she was starting to let her anxiety ramp up as she took a moment to calm down before looking back to Rita. “The other me… her apprentice plugged me in and turned it on. But… on the ship the first time, I had been meditating on Sonak’s techniques for almost a full day to prepare myself. THIS time… I was completely unprepared.”

“It was painful in a way that’s hard to describe as the pressure came around my head. It was like… infinite gravity pressing in from all directions. I tried to put up my defenses, but… if the Bulukiya Particles hadn’t pulled me away at the last second, I don’t know what would have happened, Rita.”


Scooching over on the couch, the blonde bombshell silently took the redheaded Romulan renegade in a hug, and held her for a moment.

There was a shudder that ran through Dox as she shrunk just a bit in Rita’s arms. She had just barely escaped the potential fate that still haunted her nightmares, and recalling the memory recalled the emotions that had come with it that she had been unable to process as it was happening. But here, in the arms of her chosen sister, she could take off the proverbial uniform for just a moment.

But for the sound of her raspy breathing as she calmed herself back down, the room was silent for a moment.

“We’ll have the Kolinahr give you a once-over to see if there was any tampering, just to be sure, okay?” Rita said softly as she set Dox back upright and mopped at her tear-streaked cheek.

“Thank you. I believe that the particles extracted me before they were able to begin the overlay process.” Dox said, reclaiming her center and taking a breath. “Also, when I was on the Victory, Charybdis also went into my mind at once point, and if there was anything even remotely Tal’Shiar in there, it would have stuck out to her, I’m sure.”

“But… ultimately… I still really really would very much like to kill her, so I don’t feel like I’ve been brainwashed.” Dox finished with a bit of a forced, ‘fake it until you make it’ chuckle.

“Or bring her to justice. Show her there’s a better way. Or you could ironically brainwash her into being a good person- wouldn’t that be a revenge to savor?” Leave it to Rita to think of a fate worse than death for a hated enemy being set upon a better path in life.

“So, leap ten,” the lost navigator interjected, abruptly changing the subject so as not to invite further discussion of the subject, and to move on to something more positive. Which didn’t exactly work.

“When I appeared in 2395, I was in deep space, in the Beta quadrant. That’s where I appeared.” Pulling back her sleeve to reveal the bracers of Hera that she wore, Rita nodded. “Deep space, no starship around. If not for my EVA deployment capability, I’d be dead, frozen solid. Hera be praised, right? Saved my bacon again.”

A few doors down in the VIP quarters, the goddess in question nodded and smiled, then returned to packing some of her books in travel containers for moving.

“I think I was out there for about four hours. The other me, the energy being, likely discorporated without anything around to prevent the stellar eddies from breaking her apart. But just in case, I set my wrist comm adrift with a message and instructions on how to reconstitute her, if they ever found it. So... who knows, right?” Rita smiled and shrugged. “Message in a bottle.”

Smiling a bit, Dox nodded approvingly. “It’s… not unlike how Sonak found his way to you, here, really. There’s a certain… poetry to that in a way.”

Changing the tone slightly, Dox smirked as she raised her eyebrow at the bracers of the sun and moon of Rita’s wrists. “And It’s a good thing you rarely take those off. I’m a bit envious. A pair of those would have come in handy more than a few times for my leaps.”

“They’re available, you know- in the ship’s armory. If you want a pair you just sign them out. Some of the women don’t wear them because they dislike the religious overtones. Some of them distrust the science we don’t understand. I tried fitting a pair on O’Dell and they don’t come that small,” Rita chuckled. “But if you want to wear a pair... Hera decides whom they work for, and I’m pretty sure she trusts you with the responsibility. I know I do.”

“Well… I’ll think about that. Maybe ask Hera.” Dox said with a slight shrug and a grin. “I’ve got the Asgardian ones… but I feel like Loki might have had something to do with them, so I don’t really trust them. That’s not a problem in the least with Hera.”

“So… we’re on ten, correct?” Dox added with a bit of a smirk.

Ticking off the jumps on her fingers, Rita counted them off. “Wormhole, Talos IV, Worldship, Planet Hera, Risa Rita, Constitution, Rita Decker, Daddy and Albert, Exeter, space, the final frontier...” Rita held up her hands with her fingers splayed. That’s ten. These are hard to keep in order.”

“Excellent, thank you. Okay… this leap… leap 10… is where this came from.” Dox said with a much broader smile as she gently touched the alternate family photo on the coffee table next to them. “Which began… unusually. Remember, I was strapped to a table with that machine trying to rewrite my brain, and suddenly I’m in what turned out to be the Rul family home on Romulus. BUT, I’m horizontal, a meter and a half off the floor.”

“So, I appeared and immediately fell flat on my back.” Dox said with a laugh at the somewhat ridiculous recollection of the leap that was one of the only truly happy leaps. “I got up and hid in one of the rooms when my other self came into the hallway. Like I said, I was on Romulus. In my family’s home that I only ever saw when I mind melded with Verelan. The version of me that was there was…”

Puffing up her cheeks a bit, Dox mimed being a bit rounder than she actually was. “She was… a little more rotund than me, but looked more like the farmgirl. Short, black hair. No freckles. This version of me had been born and raised on Romulus. My parents never had the falling out and my Mother never was put in a position to betray the Star Empire. They named her Okhala there. My Mother had told me it was what my father always wanted to name me, which means the element of fire in Romulan.”

That got her a look from under the inclined brows of the earth girl. “Fire? You? Really?” Shaking her head, Rita Paris waved dismissively. “I’m rude, go on, tell me the story.”

Laughing a bit at the exceedingly ‘on-the-nose’ assessment of the appropriateness of the name, Dox shook her head. “No, not rude at all. No worries.”

“I honestly hoped that I could have hid my way through the entire leap. As much as I wanted to meet them all, I also was worried that me showing up would cause problems for them, so when my Father and Grandmother came home from the Senate, I hid in the closet of his study.”
Going into a bit more detail as the memory was much more positive, and one she wanted to share with her friend, Dox continued a bit enthusiastically. “Turns out, she… the other me… was secretly helping organize rallies for reunification. She got in trouble for it and my father sat her down for a while to talk to her about it while I hid in the closet and just watched.”

“Never in a million years did I think watching someone get chastised would have made me so happy, but… it was just… amazing, Rita.” Dox said, a little bit of wetness forming in her eyes as she smiled. This time, however, Dox stayed composed as the smile on her face turned a little awkward. “When he was done, he sent her off and he just worked. He just sat at his desk for, I think, another hour, and I just stood in the closet watching him. Absorbing every movement. Every twitch and affectation. Just… enjoying the moment. Not wanting it to end.”

“He… pretended to leave… to draw me out of the closet. He had heard me earlier and assumed I was a spy to confront me.” Dox said, pursing her lips a bit. “It took a little doing, but I convinced him of how I could be who I am. His daughter, but different. Eventually, he believed me and we talked for a bit. We just… talked.”

“I told him everything I could about my life, and he just sat and listened to me for at least another hour.” It was a simple statement, but Dox said it with the awe of a child describing a great discovery before sniffling again. “Ahhh… just when I think I’m done crying. I’m sorry.”

Hopping up from the couch, Rita returned after a few seconds with a roll of paper towels from the replicator. “Here, the quicker picker upper is best for moments like this... no, keep the roll... well, give me one, jeez...”

Smiling at Rita, Dox nodded as she was wont to do and continued. “When I felt the particles beginning to build up again, he… he gave me the picture to remember them. He… he told me he was proud of me. He… he told me he loved me.” At which point, Dox’s ability to contain her emotions had once again gotten the better of her, but this time in an overwhelmingly positive way.

“Oh.... oh, Mnhei’sahe, that’s... Sonak says that there are events that are entirely unlikely in the universe, yet simultaneously occur with starling regularity. Getting to meet your father... the man he was meant to be, in your family home, and you convinced him!” Poking Dox in the arm, Rita’s eyes were wide and her grin open and laughing. “Not that shy little lieutenant who couldn’t give an order, but convinced her father from another dimension that your intentions were good, that you come in peace and that you truly were impossibly related... I am SO proud of you right now! WOOOO!”

Rita Paris went up high for a high five before realizing that it might not still be a culturally relevant gesture.

Smiling, the gesture cracked some of the emotional tension and Dox let out a fairly deep and throaty laugh as she unexpectedly returned the high five. “Ha… I actually know this one for a change.”

Running on less sleep than not and having been steeped in one emotionally charged experience after another for over 37 hours, both women were a bit loopy and the moment left the both of them laughing for a little bit. It was both much needed and felt very overdue.

After a minute, Dox caught her breath and wiped her face dry with one of the paper towels. “Thank you, though. I really appreciate that. I do. It means a lot to hear.”

Looking at the picture, Dox’s smile had not yet faded as she ran her fingers through her hair, thinking about the memory for a moment. Then, turning back to Rita, she continued. “So… what was your next leap?”

To Be Continued…

“I got to see what I would have been like had Sonak never found me. It was... grim. I was a short fuse, wandering around in the black pearlescent armor. French and Sexton were still aboard and running the ship. It was... I’m tempted to say it was the mirror universe, but it wasn’t.. It was just me crawled into a bottle and angry and bitter and alone. But... you saved us, actually. The local version, shuffling around on the flight deck. I called you and damned if even that version of you didn’t come save my behind,” Rita grinned at the memory of the twitchy yet cool counterpart of that universe.

“Might have given her the idea to send the message in a bottle, so who knows? There, you were still Melanie, which really gave me a look at how far you’ve come. You really are an amazing woman, Mnhei’sahe. I feel privileged to have gotten to know you, I truly do.” As she did in all things, Rita spoke simply from her heart, the truth as she saw it. Which some might say she saw with a certain clarity, lent by the forces which shaped her in a golden age long ago.

The smile on Dox’s face was genuine, but with the slightest hint of something else behind it as she replied. “Thank you. I’m… glad I was able to help you there. That sounds like a difficult experience on a few levels. Though, I can say with a good degree of certainty that… more than privileged, which I most certainly am… your impact on me and my life has been… tremendous.”

“Because without you there… my 11th leap was… not an ideal scenario.” Dox added, that hint of something else becoming a bit of melancholy.

“Ohhh...” Rita smiled, obviously moved by Dox’s words. “Well, there’s an old song that says ‘like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun, because I knew you, I have been changed for good’. It’s a song about friendship, and I think it applies to both of us. We’ve both been good for each other. That’s how it’s supposed to be. But alright, so tell me about this 11th leap. Where did you end up this time... for what, eight hours?”

“Eight hours, yes.” Dox replied, sighing slightly. “Eight long ours in this case.”

“I appeared in what turned out to be a maintenance access tunnel beneath the city of Iuruth on Romulus. Basically, a sewer. And the version of me that I met… well… that held me at disruptor point for a good while… had been living there for months.” Dox continued, leaning over a bit to work through the details. “Living there as a terrorist.”

“She had been on Romulus ever since the kidnapping. Stuck there after just barely getting away from Rendal on that platform where you and the crew came to rescue us. Except… in that reality, you never came. Nobody did.” Dox said, looking up and pursing her lips. “My Mother was still there in that Scorpion like she was in our timeline, but she was shot down and killed, and in the chaos, the other me escaped by leaping into the river below that landing platform.”

“In the escape, she killed t’Suil and did her best to survive in hiding for as long as she could. The Tal’Shiar locked down off-planet communication and were hunting for her. Every escape attempt she made ended in someone getting killed trying to help her. It was… SHE was… extremely damaged for the experience.”

“Sounds terrifying. Did you find a way to help her?” Rita asked, looking for a bright spot.

Looking down at the badge on her chest, Dox nodded. “This is actually the commbadge from the version of me that got stuck in the past. One of the only things she had left from her time here on the Hera. She gave it to me when I was leaving the Victory, because I had given MINE to the woman living in those tunnels.”

“With a sub space transponder, it’s a way to call for help.” Dox said, looking back up at Rita. “And hopefully a reminder to not let go of what hope she had left.”

“Good for you... it feels a bit better to hope that we made a difference, right?” Rita nodded, sipping her tea.

“I like to think I did, for her. For all of these, really. I’m not a fan of coincidences. I’m something of a believer in a fate of a sort, and I don’t believe we went to all these places not to make some kind of a difference. To put right what once went wrong. And I believe we did.” Dox replied quietly but confidently as she looked out the windows at the infinity beyond.

“I’d like to think so. I did what I could where I was, and so did you. We can only hope we made a difference for the better, right? Which brings me to my last jump- Kathoom. Like I mentioned, Sonak never found me, became the central figure of a religion and then the religion hoarded the water and resources and oppressed the people. So I led a peaceful revolt and tried to get a more equal governing body established. Official report. It was... sobering. I saw how the best of ideas could end in tragedy. I actually have her logs, in her wrist comm. Assuming it still works, I haven’t quite worked up the nerve to start watching them.”

“I can understand. It’s the closest you’ll likely get to being able to ask that version of you what happened, having lived out the rest of her life there.” It was a heavy concept to be sure, but one that seemed to draw a strange parallel between their experiences that Dox considered for a moment before continuing. “Messages in a bottle from a version of yourself long dead? Watching the passage of time like that… is an intimidating concept on a number of levels.”

“You said time moved differently there. The three months you spent there the first time was only a few seconds here which was a year ago, roughly.” Dox said, constructing the question from the bits of information she had for what Rita had already said. “From their perspective, how long had it been since you had been there last?”

“Hard to say. The church basically abolished science and learning, and the civilization had been stagnant for centuries, likely for thousands of years. The tomb she was in was pretty ancient, but I got out of it with the least amount of damage that I could, and gave the location to the kid I met... B’Jen.”

At that, the well-traveled woman looked a bit wistful. “In all my travels, it really has been about making friends wherever I ended up. That really has been Starfleet’s mission to me, and I feel like I’ve accomplished it out here, you know? I won’t put it into the official report but...” Rita sat up a bit straighter and regarded Dox levelly. “I’m proud of what I did down there. I changed a society, an entire world, and I didn’t have to harm a single person. No violence necessary, just words, and doing the right thing. I’m... not sure if I’m going to get a pass on the Prime Directive on this one, but I know I did the right thing.”

Thinking about the situation, Dox smiled at the fact that Rita did what Rita always did: what she knew in her heart was right . It felt good to know that no matter what, Rita was always Rita. That consistency was what made her the compass that Dox always tried to follow in her own decisions, and it was a truly positive moment for the redheaded Romulan.

But it was that influence that also inspired her to always want to help if she could, and Dox bit her bottom lip as she ran through her studies and her knowledge of the prime directive for a moment. “Hold on a second, I need to check something that I remember from my Ethics classes.”

Getting up and going over to her nightstand where she kept a PaDD, Dox called up some data and scrolled through it before finding what she had vaguely remembered. “Okay.. I’m not a legal expert, but I was thinking about legal precedence and some subsection written into the Prime Directive that might be relevant.”

“The version of you that made these initial changes, while YOU, is an alternate you. So, you can’t be held responsible for her actions. She is legally considered a different person. And even though Admiral Meowlth likely covered for what you did on Kathoom the first time, it still does set a precedent that you’ve been cleared, but that’s not the main point.”

“Okay, here we are. I thought I remembered this: “Directive One. Suborder 25, paragraph 9: Starfleet officers are prohibited from directly intervening in the natural outcome of any internally motivated political or military conflict, even if non-intervention would result in the extinction of an entire species or the end of all life on a planet or star system.” Dox recited the rule on the PaDD in front of her.

“Law is all ABOUT semantics. What you did, to me, fulfills that heart of what Starfleet is supposed to be all about. First and foremost, beyond exploration, we’re out here to help. But it’s in the SPECIFIC wording that I think we will have a position. It says two key things here. We can’t interfere in the ‘NATURAL outcome’ of and ‘INTERNALLY motivated’ political military conflict, etcetera.” Dox finished, a little enthusiastically.

“What happened on Kathoom WASN’T the natural evolution of that society. It was artificially influenced by a Starfleet officer. That it was YOU is negated by the fact that it was an alternate you. Different person. And as such, it wasn’t an INTERNALLY motivated situation. Because it originated from that other Rita, that makes the scenario an EXTERNALLY motivated situation.” Dox raised a finger to punctuate her point.

“AND… I had to look it up quickly… but Captain James Kirk of the Enterprise set a number of precedents that work in your favor. Chief among them, the actions of the Enterprise in righting the incident on…” Dox glanced at her PaDD, not having anything resembling total recall in this topic that was in no way her speciality, but one she was showing a clever aptitude for in the moment. “Planet Ekos.”

"A Federation Cultural Observer instituted a dangerous, old Earth political structure that led to a Fascist government. Kirk was determined to be in the right to UNDO that damage by a Federation Ethics Committee." Dox finished, handing the PaDD to Rita, a little awkwardly as she ramped down her energy a little and blushed slightly.

“Well... thanks for that, I guess,” Rita laughed. “Leave it to Jim Kirk to save my ass again. I think you may just have a point there, Miss Dox. Alright, so where did you end up? This last leap is the one where you ended up in the, what, the twenty-two eighties? Nineties? At least you didn’t end up in the seventies...”

“No, no. Eighty-six.” Dox said with a smile and a nod. “On the U.S.S. Victory, where a version of me ended up after her version of the Mudd mission went bad.”

Some of this, she had said earlier but was summarizing a bit to catch herself and Rita back up. “According to her, in her version of events, Mudd didn’t get the drop on HER with an agony disk, he got the drop on Sonak. After he took off for his ship, it was her that caught up with him. But while they were struggling on his ship, it took off on auto-pilot and made it’s high-warp slingshot maneuver around Sol and into time warp.”

Relaying the story, Dox picked up the Starfleet badge she had been gifted from the Victory and lightly fidgeted with it as she continued. “She knocked him out, but couldn’t get control of the ship and had no idea what his preset destination was, and so made the decision to dig under the console and hard-reboot the controls to manual. It dropped the ship out of time warp, largely out of control heading towards Earth. She got it back under control just enough to make a controlled crash at Starfleet Headquarters. She just wouldn’t know she stopped the ship a century too soon until later.”

“They were pulled out and arrested by security, but Mudd’s ship exploded, killing six people.” Dox nodded grimly as she continued. “This is why she ended up staying.”

Changing course slightly, Dox looked up at Rita and raised an eyebrow. “Do you remember that story I told you… about the cadet at the academy who had gone out with me just to check off ‘Romulan girl’ off his alien sex checklist? The one that I ended up getting into a fight with and putting in the infirmary, which then led to my academic suspension for just long enough to end up pushing my graduation back a year?”

“Uh huh, I most definitely do recall that,” Rita replied, sipping her tea. “I actually went back and read the incident report. What exactly did he say to set you off?”

“I was dealing with what he was saying. All the kind of things I was used to hearing about my ‘filthy blood’ and coming from a race of liars. I was more angry for all the other women he was taking advantage of and I confronted him on it.” Dox said with a slight smirk as she blushed slightly. “Whaaaaaat… got me in trouble is that he grabbed me and raised a hand to try and hit me. Hence… infirmary.”

“Interesting. Funny how much of that never made it into the incident report. I swear, the Academy these days really, really bothers me,” Rita shook her head, frowning. “But yes, I recall the incident and the cadet in question.”

“So… when the other version of me woke up in the infirmary at Starfleet and was interrogated by an Intel Admiral, she found out that one of the six people killed was a very young, still unmarried woman that she recognized by name to be the cadet in question’s great grandmother.” Dox said, taking a sip of the tea Rita had brought over. “That led to the realization that she had inadvertently caused a ripple that would have left her entire future in the air. Without him, she wouldn’t have had the black mark I had on my academic record. She would have graduated a year earlier with a much different senior year. Even though the option to be put into cryosleep was out there, she would have had no idea what she would have woken up to.”

“So… after consideration and meeting Charybdis and discovering the first Romulan to serve in Starfleet was offering her an opportunity to make a difference in that time, she decided to take it. As frightening as the idea of trying to start over in another time with complete strangers was frightening… but the idea of going to sleep and waking up to a world where you might have even less of a place was even worse to her” Dox said looking down at the badge again. “We… didn’t get along at first, but the crew and Char went out of their way to get us to talk. For her, it was a way to get some degree of closure on her life here.”

“In reality… while the ship was called on a rescue mission to assist the U.S.S Saratoga that had been rendered powerless by the signals of an alien probe… the trip was actually fairly calm.” Dox said, streamlining the extraneous details. “For me… it was extremely strange, and more than a little uncomfortable.”

There was now that slightly melancholy edge to Dox’s voice that Rita knew well when the redheaded Romulan was getting introspective. “Getting to meet Charybdis as a young woman, in contrast to the version I had met here. The version whose life had its share of regrets for decisions that this young Char hadn’t yet made.”

There was a pregnant pause as Dox ran a finger nervously over her ear as she chuckled. “Which is where we come to the part of the story where I join you in quite probably having to explain myself to the Starfleet Board of Ethics.”

“Considering that there’s a version of me living out her life one hundred and eleven years in the past of a different timeline, a walking, talking temporal paradox, that’s problematic enough, but like I said about that other Rita, not something I can be held responsible for.” Dox added, a little anxiously. “However… me letting Charybdis read my mind so that I could warn her about the impending death of her medical crew and that her children would grow up resenting her career choices… THAT Starfleet might take issue with.”

“Which… in truth… didn’t stop me from doing it. And honestly… I do not regret it for an instant.” she said, looking at Rita with a slight matter of fact expression, confident in her decision to try and put right what had gone wrong in her other friend’s life.

“The timeline was already altered by the other version of you’s presence there. Further alterations, to save lives and set right what once went wrong? I don’t think you did a darn thing wrong, Mnhei’sahe,” Rita replied without hesitation, or a trace of irony. While she was quick to point out her own culpability, she was just as quick to jump to the defense for her shipmate..

Nodding, Dox smiled with slightly pursed lips again as she thumbed the badge in her hands. She believed what she said about having done the right thing, but Rita Paris was very much the woman’s moral compass, so that validation was more important than anything Starfleet would have to say. “Thank you. That, as always, means a lot.”

“That's why she gave me this. For… ‘admirable and honorable service to my temporarily assigned duty station’. I can only hope that what I said helped.” Dox added with a nod. “And that the other me will remain happy there.”

“That’s all we can ever do, Dox- do our best and hope we made a positive difference,” Rita replied, thinking back to her own Kathoom adventure. “It’s not like there’s a guidebook out there that prepares you for ‘what to do if you are thrown back in time and encounter an alternate reality version of yourself living in a past you could avert tragedy in’ or ‘find out you’ve become the central figure of a religion on a world where the religion is the oppressive force’. Although maybe there should be...”

“So… for the better part of a day, I mostly just got the grand tour. I got to meet her new friends and walk around for real in one of the classes of ship that I love to fly in the simulators now. And… see people that she had somehow become friends with, while I had known of them through the elderly Char’s stories.” DOs said, reminiscing slightly. “Their junior comms officer was a woman named Tivri, actually. An earlier clone of Thex’s line, which was extremely bizarre.”

“Was she also.... You know what, nevermind. I suspect if we start looking at female Andorian officers throughout history we’re liable to find a little Thex here and there,” Rita sighed, shaking her head. “So overall, what was your takeaway from your sojourn to the past? You’ve always had a romance for the golden age, which I certainly understand. But it seems to have affected you most of all. So what’s the perspective that you gained, the lesson learned?”

“It’s hard to say, in this case.” Dox added with a bit of knitted eyebrows. “My interest in that period and it’s ships certainly seemed to make acclimating to living there a bit easier for her. It was the only leap, other than the disastrous second leap, where I was actively in Starfleet.”

“Even still… she and Char had plans for trying to make changes to Romulus. To try and repair some of the cultural damage made over the centuries, which feeds back into my thinking that there was some guiding hand in both my leaps… and maybe in my other self being there.”

Putting down the badge on the table, Dox put a finger to her lip and thought for a moment. “According to the ship’s CMO, a Deltan doctor named Siivas Mackenzie, that version of me fits into a… prophecy of some sort involving Charybdis restoring the honor of the Romulan people. That me is supposed to play a key part and…”

As Dox spoke, her eyebrow raised slightly as a memory sparked a bit of surprise. “And… Siivas. He told me that he had met you years earlier. He knew who you were. He met you on… a beach on Risa and tried to impart some of his philosophy to you.”

“Wait... Siivas? Bald little fellow, red eyebrows... OHMYGOSH, yes!!!” Rita’s eyes lit up as she made the connection. “I met him on a shore leave on Risa, we were both on the beach at dawn to greet the sunrise. I was limbering up for a beach run, and we spoke a few minutes while he waited for his boyfriend to show up, a surprisingly handsome Orion gentleman. But yes, I remember,” the bright blue eyes of the lost navigator were alight as she spoke.

“That was where I learned the philosophy that guided my life... the one I taught you, that helped me rehabilitate Hera, the one that basically set my personal philosophy. He taught me to ‘be better’, nice and simply. And it has echoed through my life, which is... wow.” Pausing to absorb all of that, Rita shook her head. “FAR too close for coincidence. Especially dimensions removed. I could ask Sonak, but the odds against you meeting the man in the past who shaped my philosophy in the future are astronomical... yet a version of you ended up there under his tutelage all the same. No wonder she was well-adjusted. He was... quite a fellow.”

“He was. As such… knowing that he died badly in this timeline and how much it devastated Char… Captain MacGregor… I couldn’t not let her know everything I could.” Dox said, slightly somber for a second before returning to a more even keel. “And she IS pretty well-adjusted. She was, all-in-all, happy. She took the lessons you taught her and figured out how to make a life in a very different time. As a result, I got to see that in some ways, I’m more capable than I give myself credit for when it comes to change, which is one takeaway from the whole thing.”

“Outstanding!” Rita declared. “We have to follow our hearts, and we have to do what’s right. I just laid out that philosophy for an entire world, which has likely advanced dozens of years from when I spoke those words. All we can do is our best Mnhei’sahe, and it sounds like you did just that.”

“It’s the purpose of our mission, you know. Or at least it was, back in the day. We explored strange new worlds, sought out new life and new civilizations, because we were boldly going where no human had been before.We reached out to the stars, to find others who could share our vision, of a Federation of worlds living together for mutual benefit and harmony. While they don’t like to admit it,” Rita admitted, “Starfleet was always about the human connection.”

“We went to the stars to see what was there, yes- but to connect with others and make that human connection,” Rolling her eyes, Rita waved her hand breezily. “I know, humancentric and arrogant, but that’s what it was all about. These days, I’ve found the more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s still about reaching out and making that connection. Because in doing so, we elevate others, and uplift ourselves in the process. That’s what you did on that mission, and you should be proud of yourself.”

At that, Dox’s smile widened a bit more. Regardless of how far she may have come, praise from Rita meant the world to the anxious, often uncertain young officer. To Mnhei’sahe Dox, Rita Paris WAS Starfleet, and most everyone else was, at best, playing a part. “Thank you. I really do appreciate that. I did my best to help wherever I could out there. Seeing all those versions of myself. Seeing all those different paths. It’s… a lot to try and process.”

“Which… even though I got some rest on the Victory… I could really use a solid sleep to try and reset myself. Get out of this uniform and… oh.” Dox interrupted herself, with a bit of a grin as she reached for the flap of her uniform tunic. “You of all people will appreciate this.”

Pulling the top open, instead of her standard black undershirt, she was wearing the black jogging t-shirt she had been given during her last leap. On her chest, in the same typeface as the t-shirt’s that said ‘HERA’ that she wore when jogging with Rita, was the word ‘VICTORY’ in gold letters. “One last souvenir.”

“Hah! Oh, that’s classic, good for you. I also brought back a souvenir, although one that I have some trepidation about.” Into Rita’s hand appeared a comm unit, identical to the one that she wore upon her left wrist in her EVA armor. Save that this one looked considerably older, chipped, scuffed and worn, with microfractures in the golden outer enamel that made it look quite aged.

“This is the wrist comm of the Rita Paris who never left Kathoom. If it were me, I would have recorded my log entries onto it over the years, and I am reasonably certain that’s what she did. I... haven’t watched any of them. I don’t know that I want to. Living out her entire life there on Kathoom, without Sonak... I can only imagine. Truthfully, I don’t think I’m emotionally equipped to deal with that level of loneliness and unhappiness over the span of years. I think I’ll turn it over to the Starfleet archivists to review and catalogue. I won’t let her story go untold, but... I don’t think I need to be the one to tell it.”

Looking down at the comm unit for a moment, Dox thought hard on Rita’s words, understanding the idea all too well. Rita often joked that she wasn’t the superwoman that Dox thought she was. But in truth, most of the reasons that Dox so admired the woman sitting next to her had to do with her impossible strength and unending compassion that all fell on very human and very mortal shoulders. Rita Paris inspired her because she wasn’t an invulnerable superwoman, but she still tried harder than anyone to always be better. However, Dox knew better than most just how fragile the seemingly unbreakable woman could be. She had held Rita in her arms when her friend needed it and comforted pain she rarely let others see.

In that moment, Dox could see pain behind her friend’s eyes, and hear doubt, and even fear in her voice. “I understand. You saw a version of yourself that lost Sonak and had fallen from grace. But you also told me that you helped her get back up. It’s possible that the woman on those recordings was impossibly lonely and unhappy.”

“The woman I met on the Hera felt abandoned. Nobody ever came to rescue her in that past. She no longer had the piece of Mona inside her to keep her warm and cling to. That energy faded after only a couple of weeks, she said.” Dox added, changing course slightly for a second. “But… in spite of all that, she was still trying to be better. To make happiness and find hope in that past. She was even seeing someone and trying to let love in again. And, well, neither of us learned that from out mothers, Rita.”

“So….” Dox swung back around a little to her earlier train of thought. “Right now, it may be too raw to process. To hard to think about. But… it’s possible that the you who found herself stuck there on Kathoom found a reason to keep going. She might have even found purpose and even happiness over time.”

“Nothing is impossible, after all.” She finished with a smile, putting her hand on the shoulder of the impossible navigator from another time and universe.

“Maybe so... maybe so,” Rita admitted quietly, eyeing the comm unit, lost in thought for a few seconds. Then she looked up, refocused once more as she rose from the couch.

“I’d best let Mona know you’re back, so I doubt you’ll get much sleep. But I’m... deeply relieved you made it back, Mnhei’sahe. I’d hate to have to start hunting you through the multiverse just to get you back to the Hera.” While Rita Paris said it as a joke, there was no doubt in either woman’s mind that had Dox not reappeared, Rita Paris would be suiting up to somehow, impossibly, find her, somewhere in the infinite possibilities of alternate realities.

Neither woman had any doubt she wouldn’t come back empty-handed, either.

“I’m glad to be back as well. And VERY glad everyone else made it back.” Dox said, the weariness in her voice beginning to become more apparent. “As tired as I am… I can’t wait to see her and the girls. All things considered, it feels like a lifetime since I’ve seen them. Twelve lifetimes, really.”

Rita chuckled, “Amen to that.”

It had been an eventful few years aboard the USS Hera, and the recent turn of events had the statuesque Starfleet siren considering her present, and more importantly, her future. Which she was free to plot as she saw fit- long ago, her far smarter and more logical mate had placed his trust in her to plot their course, and he would support her choices and decisions as she directed the pair through life. It had brought them to a relationship together that was unlikely in it's own day, although far more commonplace in the modern universe. It had brought them both to a far-flung future, where she had been marooned by an accident, a gamble he had played with the universe to save her life.

Yet she had managed to get a message back to him, and that had been all it took. He had come to her, in his own way and his own time, and made good on the promise he had extended to her when they had initially joined as a couple. Time and space were no obstacle to the determined Kolinahr, for which his human bride remained eternally grateful.

In point of fact, she had seen how her life had turned out without him, in more than one locale and circumstance. Presented with such evidence had only served to make her that much more grateful for his presence in her life.

This evening, she was bustling about the kitchenette in their quarters, cutting the vegetables to craft a Ratatouille. Vulcans eschewed meat in their dining choices, which was no great sacrifice to Rita. She enjoyed the challenge of finding Earth dishes she could share with her vegetarian mate, and he enjoyed the ritual. Rita cooked something, he came home to set the table and fill the glasses. They ate, discussed news of the day or upcoming events, then they engaged in logic puzzles or movie nights. It was time they set aside to spend with one another, and in ritual, both found comfort.

At this point in time Rita had a change in mind. Which meant that it was time to discuss it with the Master of Gol, the Logician. Impulse and Intuition preferred to run her plans by Logic and Reason before enacting, when possible. Besides, this was a course change she planned to propose, which was something that required discussion. Trust her he did, and completely, but still she preferred for him to be a vital part of such decisions.

When arrived at their quarters, Sonak could immediately sense that there was a change in Rita's thought pattern.

Of course, he was not using his growing telepathy to read her thoughts. That would have been more than merely unethical; it would have been disrespectful to the one being in two universes whom had opened up a wider spectrum of consciousness and existence to him. One that he would have otherwise totally missed without her. Even more, the simple act of discovering her, the being she was and that she could be and would become, slowly and gradually through their shared life and at her alien human pace, that was something to savor and reflect upon, to his endless fascination.

It was something he had chosen to experience, and it had brought him to a plenitude of being he could never have achieved without her. His efforts went into make this as significant and fulfilling for her as it was for him. Not an easy task considering his total lack of emotion- but then, he possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of them, due to their long association. Still, the benefit was in the effort, the striving for understanding.

Nevertheless, their matrimonial bonding was enough for him to sense a change in her. He was looking forward to discovering what it was. The best way to observe and experience such a novelty, was to contrast it first with a neutral setting; their domestic routine. And so, he changed into his indoor tunic, then set the table, and prepared their drinks as he always did.

Thus the unexpected he would not miss; although truth be told, his logical mind was already formulating a hypothesis. Based on their recent away mission on Andoria, he calculated that there was a fifty-three point four-seven probability that the usual equal sign in her mind when thinking about them may now being replaced with a plus sign.

Of course, there was still a forty-two point five-three percent probability he was wrong.

Setting the steaming casserole dish on the table, as the oven had cooked the meal in seconds, Rita served the dish onto plates at the table, as she usually did- more of the ritual that their lives had embraced, which brought comfort and tranquility to them both. Which was ironic, given the unpredictable and unstable nature of their professional lives. Or perhaps the rituals comforted them, because in them they found structure amidst the chaos.

With the meal served, she seated herself, then looked across the table at her husband, the Vulcan hero. Once the last Kolinahr in a universe bent by external interference, he had borne it stoically, seeking out humans amongst the stars to learn to live with them. So many times she had been lost, and he had found her. Slipped, and he caught her, Stumbled, yet he had steadied her. He was the solid axis of her life, the sun around which she orbited, and just seeing him there, his face impassive and calm as he unfolded his napkin and observed her watching him, he was the center of her universe, and with him she felt safe and secure. Perhaps one of the only men in the universe about whom she could make such a claim.

Picking up her fork, she paused, then launched into the thought that had been dominating her mind for some time now.

"Sonak? I think it's time to go back to Earth," she stated plainly. "I love the Hera, and the crew and the excitement, but... I want to go home, now. San Francisco. I'd like to attend the Academy and catch up on everything I've missed in the past thirteen decades. I was thinking you could teach, or join a research group- wherever you want to go they'll welcome you with open arms, of course. But... I feel it's time to start our family. To do that I want to go back and start over, in a way, I suppose. But I want to put down roots and stay a while... maybe even start teaching at the Academy after I graduate. I've been so appalled at what comes out of there, I feel as though that may be the right place for me... for us."

Reaching across the table with her left hand, she placed it over his. "It is selfish of me, I know, because the Vulcan Science Academy would welcome you as well, and Vulcan is your home. But the tug of Earth is pretty strong for me, and... I want our kids born on Earth. I want them to know San Francisco, and to grow up around Starfleet, to know the legacy they have been born into, which hopefully they will embrace."

"Those are my thoughts. Share yours with me, please? It is a considerable course change, and... I know I planned for another year in space, but.." at that she trailed off, her conflicting emotions tangling up what she wanted to say, and her anxiety over bringing the idea to the table still there as well to complicate matters. But this was Sonak. He was her One, her t'thy'la. With him she held no secrets, nor did she have any fears.

Because whatever his reply, it would be logical.

As usual, Sonak was as fascinated as ever with the way his human wife, as driven by feelings and emotions as she was, nevertheless almost always arrived at the most logical conclusion. This was an endless sense of wonder he experienced with her, and her alone; a fascinating reflection of how logic could be found, even without itself. And from this, he could not conceive a more fulfilling union than the one he shared with the exceptional Human woman. Thanks to her, her uniqueness, their union was the living example of IDIC; the benefit of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

But union meant sharing, not only thoughts and projects, but life and logic as well.

''I suspected as much, '' he confessed. ''And I agree with your choice. I have only been on the Earth of this universe for the one year of intense study at the Academy prior to joining you here. There is as much for me to discover there, as there has been one hundred thirty point forty-seven years ago when I first acted as an Academy instructor at Starfleet in our universe. I would welcome this opportunity again.''

He looked at the alien dish she had chosen to enrich his palate and knowledge tonight.

''Denying you your emotional need would be a dereliction of my duty as a husband. As would you speak of selfishness, truth be told, the Vulcan of this universe is basically the same as the one I left behind. It is a fact that Vulcan society is quite... static, especially compared to Human society. There is not much growth for me to find there... nor to provide for our family.''

His steel-grey eyes sought her own pale blue as fixed her with his gaze.

''As usual, you made the best logical decision for the both of us, my wife.''

Truth be told, although he generally agreed with her course plotting, it was always exciting for the Human woman to hear that she'd made a logical choice- particularly from her Vulcan husband, the living epitome of logical thought. But in this case she had considered the angles and vectors, and as always, she guided their course with her heart and his mind, together in tandem, as it had always been between them. Smiling widely, she added some shredded parmigiana cheese to the dish for flavor, and pressed on.

"So, I will admit my own plans are a little unformed at this point, but I think I can get in my first year at the Academy," Rita posited, clearly thinking aloud. "Then they'll likely furlough me while I am pregnant, and I'll come back and start over two years later, when the kids are old enough to be without us for the day. Oh, I am so excited! So, do you think you'd like to teach at the Academy? Assuming that's the case, as you always enjoy educating, what course of study do you think you might choose to teach?"

''That is an excellent question to ponder, '' he admitted. ''After our service onboard the Hera, there is a considerable amount of material to share; from studies of other realities and meta lifeforms, to field combat and starship duty experience. And there is always the cultural Vulcan angle. It would ultimately depends on the actual needs of the Academy at the given time.''

He tasted the dish and took his time to appreciate the flavor and texture before asking Rita:

''And you, what would be your first choice? You do have a quite extensive repertoire of unique knowledge and experience to share.''

"Well, I still have to attend and catch up on everything I missed, which is quite a bit. And unlike you, I don't believe I will be capable of an accelerated course. So I'll be considering as I am attending, but..." In truth, she was disseminating and they both knew it. "Starfleet Ethics. If there's one thing I have seen too little of in the recruits coming out of the Academy, it's a strong moral center from which to make intelligent decisions that will benefit all, rather than selfish self-centered ones. Possibly history, as, well, I AM history, so I suppose I am something of a natural to teach it."

"Well, once I learn everything I've missed, at least," she added with a chuckle, then redirected as she forked up some of the tomato-infused vegetables. "I would think the sciences would call to you, given that you are one of the foremost experts on time and relative dimension in space in regard to navigation and travel?"

He stopped munching and nodded.

''A most logical assumption. And your own choice is eminently appropriate. This time period has seen a considerable amount of significant conflict in a very short time as this century closes. This always leave scars, even on non-emotional people; and too often shakes the moral compass of more than a few. Your contribution in this regard will be as unique as it will be well-timed. I will attend myself should the opportunity present itself.''

"Thank you, he who is my husband," Rita preened a bit at the compliment. After all, the source was a particularly well-informed one. "I appreciate your perspective on this, as I intuited much the same instinctively, but... I remember those dark uniforms- the reflection of dark times. A new century brings new hope, new expectations... so we need to be positioned where we can best serve to shape the Starfleet that will meet that new, brighter future."

"You still didn't answer my question, though," the feisty first officer tacked in the conversation, course adjusting back into her previous line of query. "I mean, realistically, you could subject hop year to year, and the Academy would let you do it just to hold onto you. But isn't there some particular scientific field of study you would care to impart to the next generation, Sonak? A logical outgrowth of our careers and experience? Human psychology if nothing else..." Rita trailed off with a grin. "Sorry. I am just intensely curious to know what wisdom you might choose to share with the cadets, is all."

"And there is another thing I should mention, but I'm willing to wait to hear this answer first," Rita qualified. The next subject was a more delicate one, but as ever, she had absolute faith in her Vulcan hero.

''Could it be done, I would share all of what little knowledge and understanding I have. But short of mind-melding with the rest of the universe, this is an illogical expectation. That being said, there is one unique experience I have that could benefit others; my bonding with you.''

He paused to let her take it all in before explaining.

''It is a fact that mutual understanding between sentient species is not always achieved; and rarely easily. History on all known worlds is replete with needless suffering due to a lack of acceptance of one another; even on Vulcan. Even without prejudice, the actual will to connect with others is not universal, despite being a need as vital as breathing. I know; as a Kolinahr master,
i was raised to be thoroughly self-sufficient and I do mean thoroughly. In my case, it was also a necessity to protect others from my untamed above-average psionic abilities."

"Since then, serving in Starfleet has exposed me to the richness of sentient life; coming to this universe, with diminished psionic power, and obsolete knowledge, altered my perspective closer to that of others. Most of all, meeting you, and sharing this life with you, has built the deepest understanding of what Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations truly means. That is something I think I can share like very few others in this galaxy can... and thus, in a small way, help universal mutual understanding.''

He looked at her squarely.

''Does that answer your question properly, Rita my wife?''

"It does indeed, Sonak my husband," Rita replied with a delighted smile that had grown as he spoke. "I'm not sure what the course of study may be called, but interspecies communication goes much deeper than mere words, and you are quite the studied expert in the field. I would love to see you teaching such a thing... quite the advocate of bridging cultures and awareness, and given some of the things I have heard out of the mouths of this generation, clearly a course of study to direct them to learn."

"Sooooo there is one more thing, and this is... significant. It will take considerable maneuvering on my part and a lot of appeasement, but you are the first, and honestly, the only important hurdle to this one. I..." Rita paused to take a deep breath, as if preparing to plunge into icy waters. "I would like for Hera to come with us. To San Francisco. To our home."

"I know, I know, she was a tyrant and she committed atrocities and she is a war criminal. I know all of that but... that's not who she is, it's who she was. Because of Log'yarm///, she's trapped here, and she's alone. None of her Olympian kith and kin are still about and... we're the only family she has. If we abandon her to the Asgardians, she'll just wither and rot in a cell. But she cares about us, and... she made me a promise." Rita got a bit choked up as she spoke, try as she might not to. Emotional arguments did not sway masters of logic, nor did tears.

"She promised to be the kind of goddess I could tell my children about. She has made good on that vow, to become that and more. I want to bring her back to Earth with us, and I want her to live with us. If we abandon her it does her a disservice, and... she's family, Sonak. I know there are dozens of reasons why not, but... it's the right thing to do. Share your thoughts, He Who Is My One?" She did not reach for his hand, nor did she plead with him. Instead, it was a request, presented with her logic, flimsy though it may have been, to her husband, the other half of their partnership. They were equal in all decisions- it would be illogical to be otherwise. But in this instance, she lead with her heart and she knew it.

Sonak pondered for a moment before answering.

''Were I to deny this, then everything I just said would be nonsense. The day we as a culture realize that all sentient life in this universe is family, is the day this universe will have achieved it's highest purpose.''

He paused again then lifted his right eyebrow slightly.

''However, the fate of Hera is not in my hands. Starfleet and the Federation Council may raise objections to such a powerful entity allowed freely among a species as fragile, in all sense of the world, as Humans, and on their homeworld. A world where thousands of years ago she had an impact, and not solely a positive one. We both might not be deemed... sufficient to prevent problems were she to revert to... vengeful goddess-mode once more.''

"This is true, and I accept this," Rita replied, nodding. "But all of that is moot beside your decision. It is OUR home. They will be OUR children, OUR neighbors, OUR family. So long as you are in acquiescence with expanding our family to include her, I'll fight the rest of the battle, only calling you in when I am insufficient, as always. But there is no sense in beginning it if you don't agree. So... I would like to invite her, with no guarantees, and no assurances that we can pull it off. But if you agree... that is my most vital and important consultation. I know what you said, but directly, in regard to Hera... are you willing to take this chance with me? With us?"

He looked her straight in the eye.

''Affirmative.''

A broad smile spread across her face, and she sighed contentedly. "You are far and away the bravest man I have ever known, Sonak of Vulcan. Thank you for taking a chance on me... on US. In any universe you weren't in my life, it was... dark. Not that I needed to see it, but... I am grateful every day for you in my life. You give me the strength to do everything else I do, if that makes sense."

''It makes sense because it is a shared perception of reality,'' he answered with obvious certainty. ''There is no bravery involved nor chance taken. Everything about you, Rita Paris of Earth, is the incarnation of what is best in humanity; as well as in a mate. I simply do what is logically adequate to be a worthy companion on this journey we call life.''

"My hero," she grinned, blushing. Even after all these years, she still blushed like a schoolgirl when he complimented her, because it was genuine. He spoke the truth as he saw it, merely the facts- but to her they were poetry, the purest of praise which made her heart sing. For such a man to see her as so exceptional still thrilled her, as it had from the very start. Their katras were aligned, as he had observed decades ago and dimensions away. Which was unusual for a Human and a Vulcan, but not unheard of- especially not in the modern age, hundreds of years after the intermingling of their respective cultures.

Rising from her chair with a somewhat beatific smile, Rita offered her hand. "I think you deserve a hero's reward..."

He raised his right eyebrow.

''I already have it; you accepted to be my wife.''

Sitting in her quarters, Lieutenant Commander Mnhei’sahe Dox was off duty for the remainder of the day. A few of the ship's crew members were relieved of duty for 24 hours after their exposure to a wave of exotic, inter-dimensional anomalies known as Bulukiya particles. Partly for medical check up and writing reports, but also just because the experience had been more than a little traumatic.

The exposure was, in part, her fault. She had been given the data crystal with the means to create the bizarre particles by Liviana McCray, the time-traveling granddaughter of the deceased Admiral, Charybdis MacGreggor months ago for safekeeping. And it was that crystal that drew a temporal terrorist to her quarters on the Hera to steal it and unleash the technology on the crew when his device was activated.

The terrorist in question was an arrogant, petulant man with a proverbial axe to grind with the crew of the Hera. A crew that wouldn’t meet him for another lifetime. He introduced himself by the unlikely name… of Declan Dox.

Her grandson. Actually, in point of fact, her AND Rita Paris’ grandson.

Of everyone that had vanished, he had never returned. He had mentioned something about mapping the multiverse before he vanished, and his future-tech likely gave him significant control of his movements across space and time. But none of that was making Dox feel any better.

Not only had she been entrusted with the data that she had now LOST, but because of that, her best friends might have been killed. It was a sobering reality that she was doing her level best to learn to live with. Though even that guilt had taken a back seat to what her mind was the most focused on, sitting in her quarters alone with too much time to think. There, her mind was on her journeys.

Twelve leaps in total was what she had experienced. Twelve times, she was pulled out of one reality and deposited into a different one. Each time, appearing somewhere near a version of her native to that dimension. The first was only thirty seconds long, and each successive leap lasted twice the length of the last one leaving her in her final dimension for just over seventeen hours in total.

It was that last leap that weighed on her at the moment, though it was not the only one. In her hand, she held a strange souvenir of that reality: a Starfleet badge from the year 2286. The badge given to her by the young Captain Charybdis MacGregor of the Starship Victory. The Constitution Refit class ship she first learned about from the decidedly elderly MacGregor in THIS reality 10 months ago.

The rule of the particles was that you only traveled across dimensions, not time. But there was a unique loophole in that wherever you ended up was where a version of you was the same age as you were during your leaps. And THIS version of Mnhei’sahe Dox was one that had been trapped over a hundred and eleven years in her own past. Forced by circumstances beyond her control to live out her life in that long ago time, unable to return to her own future due to accidentally undoing her own future.

Imagining what she had to have felt, Dox was humbled that her counterpart hadn’t simply survived, but had THRIVED as the helmsman and Second Officer of the Victory. Removed from Mona, Rita and the world she so coveted in the here and now, a version of herself found a new home and somehow, found a purpose and happiness. Obviously, it meant she too could have done so, but inexplicably, she had her doubts.

Fingering the smooth metal of the delta in her hand, she wished she wasn’t alone to wrestle with the uncomfortable thought dancing in her mind at the moment. But Mona was required in the R&D department, and her mother was watching the children there as well.

The couple had spent the night together after Dox had returned and relayed her tale. She had first told Rita in a somewhat informal briefing before Mona had come back to their shared quarters for a long night of talking, tears and a lot of emotional explosions. The experience had been more than she could process, and just trying had been a roller coaster for the anxiety-ridden woman.

The morning was spent with a few hours in sickbay. She and the others that had been affected had been cleared by medical AND science as modern medical science had purged all remaining remnants of the foreign particles from their bodies, ensuring that the mysterious sickness that had affected those who had been exposed to the particles on the Victory in that past would not happen in the present on the Hera.

A full and detailed debriefing had occurred and she had told as many relevant details of her leaps as was required and spent much of the afternoon writing her official reports. And in retelling the tales over and over, patterns that she had noticed became clearer. Thoughts that she had been denying became louder. That, and the inescapable connection between the overwhelming majority of the realities that she had visited began to lead her down a road to a conclusion she was struggling to accept.

In one reality, she was an Artan Baroness, but on a Romulan ship with a Romulan crew under her command. In another, she was in hiding on Earth from the Tal’Shiar. Then, she saw the life she could have lead had she never left the Romulan colony world of her birth. In the reality where the original Declan Dox had raised her as his daughter, that version of her had betrayed Declan to return to Romulus. She saw the life she would have lived had she went with her Grandmother to train to replace her as a Senator, then saw the cruel counterpart where she was a slave of Dalia Rendal. She was an idyllic life born and raised in an intact family on Romulus, and the nightmare of living on that world’s streets, on the run as a criminal and eventually, a terrorist.

Then there was the Victory. The ONLY reality where she had embraced Starfleet, and even still, she served under a Romulan captain with intentions of helping Charybdis fulfill her purpose of saving the Romulan Star Empire.

Out of twelve leaps, only three didn’t end with the world of her people. In a very real sense, all roads led to Romulus.

Putting the badge down on the table, Dox got up and walked over from the living room to her and Mona’s bedroom as she all but whispered to the room, “Lights. Twenty five percent, thank you.”

As ordered, the lights gently raised just a bit as she went into their bedroom and opened the door to the closet they shared and looked inside. Staring silently for a moment, she reached in and pulled out a long, silver metal case. Turning to put the case on the edge of their circular, nest-like bed, Dox clicked open the fasteners of the case and pondered what was inside.

Slowly, she pulled out its contents: a sword. In a polished, black maithewood sheath with ancient Vulcan script on it, was the weapon known as the Sword of S’Task. The curved metal blade forged millenia ago by the Vulcan swordmaster, S'harien. As a child, her mother had told her the tale of this blade and how it came to represent all the Romulan people could be, and all that they had fallen from being.

The sword was one of a bundle of three that Surak… the founder of the Vulcan way of Logic… gave to his former friend and one-time pupil, S’Task, to take with him as S’Task led eighty thousand pilgrims from Vulcan to found what would eventually become the hearthworlds of ch’Rihan and ch’Havran: Romulus and Remus.

All but one of the swords had been lost to time over the centuries, but this one remained. And on Romulus, thanks to a trick of temporal manipulation, it still sat upon S’Task’s now empty chair in the Romulan Senate. THIS sword was a temporal copy. The same sword from a different timeline and reality, plucked from the Empty Chair by Charybdis MacGregor before THAT Romulus had been destroyed by a supernova that had been prevented in the reality Dox called home.

On her deathbed. Charybdis entrusted this sword to Dox as a reminder of what their people once were… and what they could be again. And as Dox slowly pulled the shining, silver blade from its sheath and looked into her own eyes, reflecting back at her, a thought began to take root in her mind.

Romulus was broken. Thanks to the Bulukiya particles, she had seen just how broken on more than a few levels. She wasn’t under any delusions that she could save that world she had only barely set foot on once before, but for months now she had been struggling with a dawning realization. An idea that she had been trying to ignore. An idea that her last conversation with her Grandmother brought into stark relief.

“How long did you think you could keep avoiding this?” Dox whispered to herself in Romulan, standing in the dim light of her quarters on the ship she loved. The ship she thought of as home. The ship she knew, deep down, she was hiding on. But any such decisions weren’t simply hers alone to make. She was a part of a family. She had a wife and they had three children that needed both of their mothers. She had to talk to Mona.

As if on cue, the door to the main living chamber hissed open and even from the bedroom, Dox didn’t have to wonder. She could hear that familiar, gentle brushing sound that came off of Mona’s plush, colorful plumage. She could smell that delicate fragrance of Miradonian wildflowers that the brilliant inventor misted herself with in the mornings. Dox knew her wife’s presence as surely as she knew anything. And Mona knew what something was on her wife's mind without asking.

As the brightly plumed avian came up alongside her mate, her plumage floofed up as a chill went through her at the sight of the silver blade. “I sense much on your mind, my Minay. I take it some of those thoughts involve the sword of S’Task? My thoughts are that it looks similar to the sword of Others on Miradon.”

“The sword of Others?” Dox asked, curious. There were many unusual connections she had discovered between the histories of Romulus and Miradon, and raised an eyebrow as she re-sheathed the sword and set it down in the case on the foot of their bed.


Mona nodded as she kept her eyes on the sword. “Miradonian blades are traditionally short, light, and aerodynamic to mimic our feathers. In the Capital Square Garten Museum there’s a sword very similar to that one said to have come from the Others, or Visitors from long ago. The people of Altha'donar.”

“Who knows. Two of the swords have been lost to time.” Dox said with a half-grin. “But...yes. I have a lot on my mind and the sword is… I suppose a symbol of it all.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dox let out a long sigh. “I keep thinking about what I just went through. All those different versions of me that were out there. It’s not something I know how to not think about. Seeing so many different paths my life could have taken.”

“I’m… afraid, Mona.” She admitted with a nod to her bond-mate.

The brightly plumed Miradonian just smiled, took a seat with her love, and pulled Dox’s hands into her own. “Then I’ll share a bit of ancient Miradonisn wisdom with you that I believe to be true across all worlds, galaxies, realities...”

“When two hearts beat together, they have nothing to fear. In fact, when they beat together strong enough, even the gods should be afraid of their strength.” Mona squeezed her bond-mate’s hands tenderly. “Now tell me how I may help so that the beating of our hearts may vanquish the fear in yours and send it fleeing to those that hunt us.”

With a light smile, Dox closed her eyes for a moment. “I saw… twelve different ways my life could have gone, but for a single decision made different at some point. Some… not even my OWN decisions, really. How one little change made things so… incredibly different.”

“Only in… a small handful was I happy. But… in so many of them, I was back there. On ch’Rihan.” Dox said, defaulting to the real name of the planet the rest of the galaxy called Romulus. It was something she usually only said with Mona or her Mother, and it was clear to Mona that Dox was upset.

In her voice, there was that little wobble that came as her accent leaked out a bit more than not, something that had happened ever since her captivity all those months ago. “Some by choice... others… not so much. But… no matter if I was there by choice or not… even in that… nightmare where I was Rendal’s… apprentice… Even under those circumstances, there was a throughline I can’t stop thinking about.”

As soon as the initial tests were done, while Mnhei’sahe had been in quarantine, she told Mona some of the details of what she had experienced, but not everything. “Even there… my loyalties taken from me by that… machine. My free will bent to hers... and I was apparently still trying to make things better there.”

“You can’t stop being yourself,” Mona replied with a loving smile and no doubt in her words. “No machine or reprogramming will ever change that about you. You’re a good person deep down, you know. Full of love and kindness. Even in realities where you don’t show it, it’s there. I can feel it.”

“Welllll… that one kicked my ass.” Dox chuckled awkwardly as she grinned. “But… the point, really, was that so many of these versions of me… they all were working to make ch’Rihan better in some way. Even the terrorist.”

“And I look at that sword… and I think about my Grandmother’s request.” Dox said, referring to the holocall she had had with the Romulan Senator a few weeks ago. “And I realize that… I’ve been avoiding thinking about it. So scared that she’ll try and take me again that I’m not thinking about it from the other side. Not thinking about what I could do.”

“Those girls, Mona.” Dox said with a nod. “My entire life, that planet has been denied to me. It may be denied to THEM as well… but… that should be their choice eventually, shouldn’t it? If I could do something to make things better there… and it’s a very real possibility… shouldn’t I at least try? Try… and stop hiding here hoping the choice will just… go away”

Mona smiled that bright, loving smile of hers and reached up to stroke her love’s cheek lightly. “This is why I love you more and more with each passing day. You always worry about making the galaxy a better place not just for our generation but for the next and those after.”

“So what’s the plan, my Minay? You’re a Starfleet officer so you have that training going for you. You’re trained in combat, piloting, command, and first contact but less so in diplomacy.” The brightly plumed Miradonian pondered her own query for a moment before continuing. “Starfleet would frown on you going to ch’Rihan by yourself without propper training and background and so would I.”

“No…” Dox said, sighing. “But… If I contacted Starfleet… and submitted myself for ambassadorial training. I’m already doing part of the job with the Reunification colonies and the Romulan Senate has acknowledged me as such. And… really... it was harder convincing Starfleet Intel to let me come back to the Hera after my debriefing. Half the Admiralty wanted me to consider this even then. A few wanted to make it an order, but the Captain and Admiral Meowlth were fighting to keep that from happening.”

“Meanwhile... I just wanted to come home and get back to my life here on the Hera.” Dox added, looking at Mona with a hint of melancholy in her eyes. “But… it really never has, has it? I've spent as much time off-ship as I have on it it seems."

Mona nodded solemnly as she assessed the words Dox was saying. She was also receiving them through their bond and seeing the truth of them with her Miradonian eyes, but none of that made any of it any easier to process.

After a few more moments, she nodded again, her heart once more in line with what her wife needed of her. “Then I will do everything I can to support you in this. Our hearts are one. Our minds are one. We will work towards a better ch’Rihan.”

She then raised a finger, one eyebrow raised. “However, I feel that we should be prepared to spend the... Gifting holiday? With the crew.”

‘That would be… nice.” Dox thought, the slightest of smiles cracking her melancholy as she sat there on their bed, alone as her mother was watching the children for a bit. The idea reminded her that Mona was likely the easiest to convince of this. “Mother. She’s… not going to understand this. And I’ll still have to talk to Rita and the Captain before I truly decide anything. For all I know… this is all… impossible.”

“She will likely be the hardest to convince and the last to go along with it,” Mona replied more thoughtfully. “But with the two of us as one, nothing is impossible. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

There was a long, extremely pregnant pause as Dox looked over to the shelf where she placed the couple of mementos of the alternate timelines she had visited. Of them all, only one still had Mona in her life, and it seemed that misery had replaced her loving bond-mate as a constant companion in so many. But there was also hope in some of those worlds. The happy farmgirl who never left the colony of her birth. The girl who was born into a family that had never been broken by circumstances. Dox’s mind went through all of that again as she thought.

Then, her thoughts went from herself to the woman at her side, willing to commit to this insane idea simply because it was important to her. ”What I’m thinking… it’s not fair to you. What about the R&D department? You’ve… built so much here?”

“You saw how bond-mates on Miradon worked together. Every moment apart is a moment we are less than our whole.” Mona chuckled softly and ran one finger over Dox’s ear. “I know this may sound cheesy, but being Miradonian, I will never bat an eye at dedicating my life to yours. Our life goals are as one. Besides, I think Gavarus and Ila have enough to work on from me for at least... I’d say six years?”

Miradonian dedication to their partners was something that Dox wasn’t sure she would even truly understand as well as Mona did, in spite of the strength of their bond. Or, perhaps, it was simply guilt trying to break down her emotional resolve, which she was particularly good at Nevertheless, she leaned over against Mona, taking strength from her bond-mate’s love.

“I… don’t know how we’re going to do this… but… it’s been something that on some level I’ve begun to feel was… almost inevitable. For a long time now.” Dox admitted as she ran a finger over her ear. “But… knowing that I’m never alone… it means… so much to me. Even with our bond, I don’t know if I can ever express this enough.”


“Well...” Mona began, a grin spreading across her face. “I’ve been learning some meditation techniques to help deepen our bond so that we can share our senses now and then like we did for that moment on Miradon. If you feel up to it, that is.”

There was a long moment of silence in the room as Dox simply placed her hand on Mona’s and squeezed a bit harder than normal. It was clear even without their bond that the redheaded Romulan was feeling a bit more adrift than normal. A bit more… disconnected from her life, as spending almost 35 hours removed from her own reality, lost in different ones, has caused her to reevaluate her life. “I’d… like that. I… think I need that.”


“Then I’ll begin. Breathe with me and open your mind to me,” Mona replied as she began her breathing exercises and reached out with her mind to meet her bond-mate’s, aligning their minds as the texts she was given instructed her to.

In that moment, as Dox began to relax, it had become clear just how closed off she had allowed herself to become over the last few weeks, as her mental defenses seemed to be almost perpetually erected. So much so, that even with Mona, she had to consciously lower them to fully let her bond-mate back in.

Mona had been trying to restore their bond since Dox had returned from her interdimensional hops and with all the barriers in the way, she had a hard time until now to get more than the barest of the bond going again even when they were touching. With Dox’s mental defenses finally lowered for her though, she was finally able to restore their bond to at least what it was before and begin building upon it.

It took them several minutes, but soon, they were able to calmly see each other through each other’s eyes, their minds blurring together as their senses formed an amalgamation of sorts similar to how it did when they arrived back on Miradon.

Their hopes, their dreams... Those too started flowing between them. It was much like it had been in the aeries of Mona’s homeworld when, in the act of giving birth to their three daughters, their bond became more heightened than it had ever been, and the two women became one.

Sitting on the bed that was their shared nest, their breathing slowly began to sync up. Dox’s rapid, Romulan heartbeat slowed while Mona’s speed up slightly to meet in the middle. Dox’s naturally hot skin cooled a bit until both women’s physiologies seemed to find a perfect median. And within their minds, there ceased to be individual thoughts or feelings as much as a flowing like a river between two eddies.

Slowly, Dox looked up to see both Mona and herself through both sets of eyes in one brilliant panorama of light and color that only Miradonian eyes could see. The room was no longer dim, but instead swirled with light and color. Heat and breath bounced off of surfaces in brilliant, warm golds and reds. The bed took on a cool, purple, and Mona herself seemed to shine like a star with a veritable rainbow of light that wrapped itself around Dox, permeating both women and visualizing the renewed strength of their bond.

As Mnhei’sahe opened her mouth, it seemed as if Mona’s voice came forth, speaking in perfect Miradonian. Across from her, Mnhei’sahe voice came from Mona, speaking in Romulan. But the words were identical, shared across each woman, speaking as one. “What was two is restored. What was two is one in mind…”

Then, Mona’s hands reached over and began to unfasten Dox’s uniform top. “...and flesh.”

Jump 1: .30 seconds
Jump 2: 1 minute
Jump 3: 2 minutes
Jump 4: 4 minutes
Jump 5: 8 minutes
Jump 6: 16 minutes
Jump 7: 32 minutes
Jump 8: 64 minutes
Jump 9: 128 minutes (2 hrs 8 m)
Jump 10: 256 minutes (4 hrs 16 min)
Jump 11: 512 minutes (8 hrs 32 min)
Jump 12: 1024 minutes (17 hrs 4 min)



Let's see... you can write up to 12 Bulikaya particle stories. The closer the character is to the explosion of particles, the longer they will travel through the multiverse. The particles have a radioactive half-life that decays quickly, and as the particles decay, the traveler becomes unstuck in that dimension and ‘quantum leaps’ again.

The time spent in other dimensions space themselves out by doubling your time in each alternate dimension- the first one is 30 seconds, then a minute, 2 minutes, 4 minutes, etc. Thus if you just want to write a couple of quick short stories, the character could have been in the back of the room and only ‘leaped’ twice, for 30 seconds then a minute, then back to the home dimension.

You will always appear next to, or near, your local counterpart- that might be at a graveside, but you always appear in proximity to your other ‘local’ analogy.

You will appear at the exact chronological position as your counterpart- for example, a Rita that was never rescued from being a warp ghost on the USS Constitution would have lived 10 years since that point, as chronologically, for Rita, that is 10 years in her past. So if she appeared next to that local analogy, she would be in the year 2270. Otherwise, if the local character has not been shunted to another time period, you won't appear in one. The character will appear next to a local equivalent of exactly the same age.

You can die- people have returned from Bulikaye expeditions dead. So be careful.

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So if Thex does one where she'd never went to Earth and joined Starfleet she'd appear next to herself in that timeline?


Correct. The Bulikaya affected character is sent to basically visit with alternate reality versions of herself

Dox: Or really close, but still separated by a door or something, for dramatic purposes. I have a few where Dox appears NEAR her counterpart, but in the next room. Or in that version's office just before they step in. Stuff like that. :)

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So write some interesting takes on your character with this. The exercise is designed to give you the chance to tell some solo stories, and examine the character’s life and choices. What if they had never joined Starfleet, never traveled in time, never quit a different starship positing? This is an opportunity for the existing character to examine a series of ‘what if?’ scenarios, and for you to take a deep dive into the character’s background and choices.

This particular story arc will kick off in Dox's quarters, where Mona has thrown Dox a birthday party. The party's over and only the hangers-on are still there (thus anyone who wants in on the story arc). An intruder will attempt to steal the data crystal, and in the confusion the particles will be released, with the above results. So as that story isn't written yet, just allude to it to leave it open ended for us, and we'll write that when the time comes.

Have fun!

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OOC: In most of my stories, I did write a few seconds of disorientation immediately after appearing in a new reality. Also, it's not uncommon for the character to FEEL the particles beginning to take your character from one reality to the next.

Good point. I like to use the Quantum Leap effect of the incandescent light fading to whatever the character sees, and whatever setting. Although I have written at least one that is told from the perspective of someone else who was a part of the visitation.

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OOC: Given the El-Alurian relationship to the space-time continuum and their awareness, if not at times immunity to the effects of the time shifts themselves, how should Dr. Mah proceed with this anomily?

Dox- Tova's perception would likely benefit her the most in that she would probably not have to spent near as much time EXPLAINING what she is to alternate versions of her.

Otherwise, participation in this is totally up to each writer. It's not a full-on HERA mission. If you have ideas for alternate timeline versions of Tova you'd like to write about, she can totally be one of the folks lingering at the party when the particle burst happens. If you're not feeling it, she can just be somewhere else in the ship as the burst will be well contained to one room and those in it.

However, once the burst happens, we will all be separated and on our own for our leaps.

--- Oh noooo.... Tova is TOTALLY doing this one, it will be a really cool take for her to be able to approach. I'm on it!!!!!

Making her way down the corridor, the anachronistic astronaut considered what to say, how to say it and internally debated bringing a gift. Instead, she resolved to just spell it out and put it out there, and see how it went. Having discussions like these were always fraught with tension beforehand and seemed silly afterward. But in this case, the topic was one of vital personal importance to Rita Paris, and she was determined to get it out there for discussion.

Stopping at the doors to VIP Quarters 11, the honor guard came to attention. Petty Officers Jablonski and Liu, the perennial odd couple of Security, were on duty this shift. Jablonski was a mountain of a woman, over two meters tall, who was seen ducking through doorways regularly, and she appeared to be nearly as wide. Muscles bulged beneath the gold Security uniform, and her service to Hera was quite evident. Amazons were called to serve the goddess, she had once explained, and were they to choose to avail themselves of it, enhanced strength, speed, and durability were theirs for the offering. Many of the Security force rejected the gift of the Goddess' aura- Rita amongst them. But it was as if Jablonski just helped herself to the refused portions, and gobbled them all down.

Liu was a five foot fireplug of inscrutability, who was Jablonski's physical and personality opposite, but they often worked as a team. Liu was apparently a brilliant strategist, while Jablonski was a nigh-unstoppable she-hulk. Strong and quick, Liu nevertheless was one of the most taciturn of security officers, saying little to nothing, save when it was necessary. Unlike Jablonski, who was the very soul of a friendly farm girl.

"Oh hey, g'day Commander. You here to see Hera?" While she was relaxed and cheerful with Rita, the feisty first officer had seen Jablonski in battle, and had no doubt that were she anyone else, the reception would not be so friendly.

"I am indeed. Computer, please unseal the hatch on VIP 11, authorization Paris, Rita, LTCDR 867-5309."

"Access granted, Commander," the computer's voice replied as Jablonski shuffled to the side to allow Rita sufficient room to pass. As she did so, smiling, Liu snuck a peek at the miniskirted rear and long, shapely legs of the curvaceous commander. As the door shut behind her, Jablonski and Liu resumed their posts, even as they muttered out of the sides of their mouths to one another.

"She's gonna catch you looking one of these days."

"When she does, you know she can't blame me."

"Why's that?"

"Dat ass."

"Truth."

Inside the VIP quarters, Rita had stepped into the foyer to announce herself to Hera. While she had begun as a prisoner onboard the Hera, and was technically still under guard, in truth, Rita had done her best to accommodate Hera as an honored guest. Which had in turn led to her being instrumental in saving lives on the starship that bore her name more than once. So in rearranging her quarters, a minor but significant point had been to provide the woman with a lobby. If they were going to barge into her quarters on a regular basis, Rita reasoned, they may as well give her a modicum of privacy, even when they were already inside.

"Hera? It's me, are you decent?" Rita called out. There was no need to identify herself, after all. Hera tended to be aware of Rita Paris most of the time, as Rita was one of the faithful who invoked her name rather often, which also drew Hera's attention.

"I am, my dear. I sense that much has shifted since last we spoke." As Hera came out of the kitchen, she bore a tray of her usual earthly delights and treats and a pitcher of lemonade, setting both on her dining table. "And I sense that you have much to say on that matter, so I am here to listen, and offer sage advice if you so wish it."

"Not so much, in this case," Rita replied, indicating for the older woman to be seated before she sat herself, picking up a roll of ham and cheese off the plate. "We're going back to Earth... Sonak and I. We're going to settle down in San Francisco, get VERY involved with the Academy and Command, and raise our pointy-eared offspring."

"Simply put, I want you to come with us."

With it out there on the table, Rita let it hang for a second before qualifying.

"Yes, I know it will be an uphill struggle to convince the Asgardians and Starfleet, who is still pretty vague on your nature and status, to allow this. I don't care. You made me a promise, and you have lived up to it every single day, and I believe you always will. But letting them shove you into a cell to rot isn't going to do anyone any good. I need you... there, with me, while I restart my career, while I start my family... while I establish a home." Reaching over, the astronaut of another age took the hand of the Olympian goddess of myth. "Please... come with me, Hera."

The matronly goddess was silent for a long moment as she thought it over, picking up one of the tiny pickles and chewing on it as she did so. "That's a difficult request to wrap my head around... returning to Earth. For you... I will, of course, but... It's been at least an aeon, right? It won't be the same Earth I left."

"It isn't the same Earth I left, either," Rita pointed out. "I've seen and done and explored, and I've been so very far from where I started... but I think it's time to go home. Back to my planet, lush and green and blue and filled with so many different lifeforms than when I left it. Because I want to go home now, to start a family. To continue the tradition of the Paris clan... and I want you there, to be a part of that family."

"Then I suppose, Odin willing," Hera began, collecting her thoughts as she spoke. "We should boldly go forth together, form new traditions, and see what modern humans have made of our old home together."

"I do profess a desire to make myself useful during our time there, however," the elderly woman continued. "Perhaps as a mentor of the Roman Empire and the Mediterranean era? I could learn much from the contemporary scholars of the era while providing my own wisdom, having lived in that era."

"I feel confident that we can find a way for you to contribute," Rita nodded, caught slightly off-guard but tacking into the wind as she tended to do in such moments. "Plus... well, I mean, I'm probably going to be needing a lot of help with kids and housework, entertaining and my own classload. So it may be a bit selfish, but... really, I'm the one who really need your help, Hera. My family will need someone beyond Sonak and myself. They'll need a grandparent. I'll need someone I can blather my insecurities to who can help me house shop and decorate it when I find it... assuming Daddy's old house is still unavailable. We can definitely get you a higher calling that takes advantage of your unique knowledge and experience, but... I'll admit, I just asked... well, for myself."

Hera chuckled softly as she reached out for Rita's hands. "Then I'll be the selfish grandma and spoil you all rotten with the hobbies I do have. Baking, cooking, sewing, reading... And maybe I'll write a book or two over the years."

"I don't want to stifle your contributions, Hera- you have a lot to offer, and between herbology, ancient history, and all the other things you have picked up over the centuries, I'm sure that you can make a difference. And I do want to encourage that, because I want you to be fulfilled, and to get that feeling of knowing you are making a difference. But... I am selfish, I admit. I want to go home, but I don't want to lose you." Tears filled the eyes of the emotional executive, as she spoke plainly from her heart. Hera had filled a void Rita had never acknowledged in her life, and now that she was preparing to embark on the next great adventure of her life, the curvaceous commander found that she was unwilling to leave behind the woman who had come so far and changed so much at her behest.

Which brought up Dox in her mind, but that was another conversation she was yet to have.

The elderly Ambrosian smiled a bit brighter, also remembering her transformation over the past few years since her relatively recent resurrection. "My dear daughter, I too am selfish. You've given me a freedom and a peace that possibly no Ambrosian has ever enjoyed before, and if I have any say in it at all, I would spend the rest of my days with you and your family. You have also welcomed me into something I could never truly take pride in before. A family."

The close-lipped smile was one that struggled to remain there, as Rita rose from her chair and wrapped the matron goddess in a fierce hug. "We won't turn into assholes like your last family, I promise."

"And I'll hold your future generations to that," Hera replied as she wrapped her own arms around Rita to return the bear hug in her own archaic manner. "Of that I promise."

"Speaking of which..." Hera continued, "there were heroes who were worthy, and they used your gifts wisely and well on Kathoom," Hera mentioned casually, then her voice turned solemn. "For your first time as a deity, you did pretty well. Few would have shown your restraint, on a number of levels. I know you're uncomfortable with it, but as you saw, we don't always get a choice in who worships us, and how. There's a lesson to be learned there... but I think you've learned it already."

"Thank you, Hera. Trust me, I got a taste of what it's like and... let's just say I'll leave deific presence to the professionals," Rita rolled her eyes at that, and sighed, her mood turning contemplative as she held the hug. "I'm glad heroes rose, and I appreciate that you helped them. I know I should have removed them, but... the hero's journey often involves gifts of the gods. If I was going to help them, I felt they needed to have the possibility to perform a miracle or two. Which I could do, thanks to you. These bracers have saved my life more times than I can count, and it's because you allowed it. Thank you for saving me, Hera."

"You saved me- three times, as I recall. Let's just say that I intended those for heroes- and you have fulfilled the role every single day I've known you," Hera replied, which only made Rita's eyes tear up a bit more.

Holding the hug a bit before releasing it, Rita reached into her top and pulled out her collapsible PaDD she stored in there, amongst other things. Snapping it open like a fan, she brought up real estate listings for San Francisco.

"What do you say we do a little house hunting, hmmm?"

As she had arrived at a decision and she was busily plotting her course, there were of course hazards and dangers to consider, In this case, the danger was in hurting her friends and shipmates with her decision. The hazard was how to break the news to them in a way that would not be devastating, and make their lives worse.

Rita Paris was a fan of the 'everyone wins scenario'.

As she considered just how to approach her next hurdle, the door opened and there stood Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox. Who was just who she had been considering in that moment.

"Miss Dox! Please come in. There's something I'd like to discuss with you, if I may..." Rita said it all with a smile, because she didn't want Dox to immediately assume she was being called on the carpet over something.

Stepping in, Dox looked a bit more anxious than was usual, even for the somewhat regularly anxious young Romulan woman. "Thank you, Commander. I... had something I wanted to talk to you about as well."

Both women had been through the experience of having been exposed to the mysterious Bulukiya particles that had been unleashed by the mystery man that had claimed to be the grandson of both of them from some distant future. Both women, along with others among their crew, had been thrown into the mysterious multiverse where they had encountered various different versions of their own lives. Potential paths not taken, that clearly had both of them thinking, and thinking hard.

Reading Rita's smile, Dox stepped over to the chair opposite Rita and, as always waited for the cue to sit as was both protocol and just polite. 

"Please, Mnhei'sahe..." Paris gestured to the chairs opposite her desk. "Just us for this one. No ranks, this is a conversation between friends, alright?" Rita did her best to defuse the tension she sensed, but a lot of that would come from Dox getting whatever it was off her chest, in Rita's experience.

Taking the seat in the vintage-styled plastic chair, Dox couldn't help but smile a bit considering her own recent misadventures in time, as she sat in her friend's office that was such a wonderful anachronism, as much as was it's owner.

"So, shall I go first or would you like to?" Rita asked, offering Dox the chance to unburden herself, unless she wanted to wait. Somehow Rita wasn't that worried about the conversation, despite Dox's anxiety.

"Well... no... that's okay. You can go first." Dox said with a nod, clearly appreciating the extra moment to collect herself and push her nerves back into their proverbial box.

"All right. Recently I've... spent a little time here and there, and it really reminded me of just how much I miss Earth. Which is ironic, I know, given how hard I worked to get off Earth, yet..." Rita paused, folding her fingers on the table before her. "I haven't spoken to Enalia, but... I'm going home, Dox. Back to Earth. Settle down, get a big house in the city and start a family. Go to the Academy so I can stop asking 'What's that?' quite so often."

"I'm telling you because... well, you've become quite an officer. When I leave, they may just promote you to full commander, and you'll take my job. Which you're more than ready for, whatever protestations you may have to the idea," Rita deflected. "Since this will likely affect your life quite a bit, I thought we should discuss it, just the two of us. So...?"

Listening, Dox had not known exactly what to expect, but what she had just heard was not it. Not bothering to put on anything resembling a facade with Rita, her eyes showed her surprise unguarded. Along with that surprise, an unexpected chuckle escaped her chest as her anxiety lessened just a little. 

Smiling, Dox nodded her head slightly. "Well... first off, I appreciate that you would even suggest that I could succeed you in any capacity. That... truly means a lot. And... I understand."

"It may have been a... bit of a mess... our shore leave on Earth in that first year. Between my mother and the DTI business you had to deal with. But... when I think back on that, what falls away in my memory were the problems. And what comes to the surface... what I remember the most, was seeing the planet through your eyes. I... don't know that I could ever feel the same things you do for it, honestly. But that's your home and that love you have for it is evident," Dox said, honestly. The smile on her face for Rita was genuine in the moment.

"Yeah... I do love it. I been there and back again, trekked across the stars, through time and space and dimension, to the edge of the galaxy and back again... and I kind of want to go home now, I think. Teach the next generation how it's done," Rita smiled genially, then cocked her head slightly. "You had news though. What's going on with you, Mnhei'sahe?"

Taking a breath, Dox ran a finger nervously over the tip of her ear as she sat up a bit straighter. "Well... I told you a little bit about the different leaps that I experienced. The different realities, and throughout so many of them, I found myself going back on a path that Ive... been trying to ignore here."

"I've... been thinking about this for a while now, and when my grandmother made her formal request for me to meet with the senate, it... forced me to begin re-evaluating things." Dox's anxiety began to lighten as she spoke. "During my debriefings and evaluations at Starfleet Command after the kidnapping, when I volunteered to use my position to communicate with the Senate regarding the reunification colonies, there was some degree of pressure for me to stay there and transfer for Ambassadorial training. I've talked with Mona... and I've decided that the paths of my life have been telling me that I need to try."

"I'm going to request a transfer back to Earth myself, actually."

"That's... actually a bit brilliant, Dox," Rita Paris replied, her mind already turning, plotting a course in her own unique style. "You could get a letter of recommendation from Enalia, which might carry even more weight if she listens to my advice. Then you could get a direct request placed for you by the Imperial Senate requesting you as their ambassador. I'll be happy to write a recommendation as well, for what it's worth, but with those two it ought to do the trick. OH!"

Snapping her fingers, a wide grin spread across her face. "Mrs. Dox, Hera love her, is going to be all sorts of bent out of shape over what this means for her, and watching you achieve and advance always lights a tiny little flame of resentment in her heart to see you outdoing her while she has no authority. So, what if you made her your 'aide de camp'- that would grant her your diplomatic immunity, while giving her the opportunity to watch your back and advise you, even on Romulus."

"There- I'll just tell you so that I can avoid the tense confrontation when she comes to talk to me about it. Just offer her the solution up front and hopefully that won't be another one of those conversations," Rita grinned. In truth, she was overly fond of the middle-aged spy who had made so much progress in the past few years, and as with anyone in her life she cared for, Rita wished her well. But she knew equally as well the woman hungered for authority- which was always exactly who one did NOT want to have it. If this plan came to pass, she would finally have authority, checked by working directly for her daughter. To Rita, it seemed a simple yet elegant solution.

Listening, Dox was legitimately speechless for a moment. Part of her half-expected Rita to object or tell her it was a terrible idea, but then she remembered who Rita Paris truly was, and not the false version she had imagined in her mind to justify her own anxiety. At her core, the woman who Dox had chosen as her bond-sister had a few very direct and very focused wants. She wanted Dox to be happy and fulfilled in her goals to be a better woman. And she wanted the galaxy to be a better place for everyone. Period.

In her just under a decade of serving in Starfleet, Mnhei'sahe Dox had never met a more ardent example of just what Starfleet and the Federation was supposed to represent than Rita Paris, and today was no exception. And it was IN that example, that Dox found her inspiration.

As the momentary surprise wore off, Dox began to consider Rita's very specific and extremely well thought out ideas. In truth, Dox was the most terrified to break this news to her Mother. "I had been struggling to find a way to tell my mother this. I... couldn't imagine how she would react and my concern for the fact that ON Romulus, she is still classified as a traitor and an escaped prisoner but... but it could work."

"My grandmother wants me working with her... and this... might be the perfect compromise. And it would be an end run around whatever the senate might have been scheming for our proposed 'visit'. This way, I can do something... no matter how incremental... for the things I saw there in those leaps."

"Here, on a starship, I can put out fires. I can do tremendous good for the galaxy. We have done tremendous good... but on some level... I have been struggling with this for a long time." Dox admitted to her friend and confidant. "I've always known that Romulus was fundamentally broken. I knew that since I was a child. But leaping there. Seeing so many sides of the problem... Seeing a world where my Father lived, and took my grandmother's seat, struggling to work within the system to fix things. Seeing a world where I took my grandmother up on her offer to become her heir. Seeing a world where you weren't there to rescue me and I became a terrorist, because of the injustices, I was forced to hide to survive."

"I saw all of that... and just couldn't pretend that I wasn't in a unique position to do something different. Something that I DIDN'T see: work to break down the barriers between the Imperium and the Federation." Dox said, rambling a bit, but speaking from her heart. "And... I don't know who I would become if I didn't try to at LEAST plant a seed, Rita. Does that make any sense?"

The smile on the face of Rita Paris was one of unguarded pride. To hear this fine officer who sat here expound on what she must do to better the galaxy, to assume her place in it and effect change was a far cry from the anxious and self-conscious officer whom had once walked aboard the USS Hera. This was a woman who was going to make a difference. This was a woman who heard the call, and would rise to the challenge.

This was not Lieutenant Junior Grade Melanie Dox. This was Mnhei'sahe Dox, and she was going home to help her people.

Tears began, as the emotional executive could not contain herself- not that she tried that hard. "Mnhei'sahe, I have never been prouder of you than in this moment. I will miss you desperately, so you have to come visit when you are on Earth. But representing your people, working to make a difference, trying to bridge the gap between our cultures... you have my full support."

With her own eyes beginning to tear up, Dox pursed her lips and nodded a bit frantically. "You... I cannot say what that means to me, Rita. I really can't. I couldn't have even conceived of this without you."

Then, the anxious energy that had been building in her stomach popped with a laugh and a smile. "Heh... If this works... I suppose you won't be missing me right away. I'm... fairly sure that the training I will need won't be all THAT quick. You'll have time to show me around that city you grew up in."

"I would love that, honestly," Rita admitted softly. "I know you have never cared for Earth, but if you are going to represent us to the Romulan Star Empire it might not hurt to be at least a little fond of the place..."

"It certainly couldn't hurt." Dox said, only half-joking. "But I couldn't ask for a better guide... a better teacher. For everything, really."

"I know this wasn't what I set out to do when I joined Starfleet." Dox said, taking a bit more of a serious tone. "In truth, I wanted to be free. Free from my past, and the life my Mother had laid out for me. But really... nobody at the Academy prepared me for what Starfleet and the Federation could really be. Not like you have. And I feel like this way... I can do much more to live up to that ideal. Or, at least try."

That earned the Romulan redhead a peal of gay laughter. "Oh my goodness... that's actually my plan, honestly. Attend the Academy, see it from the inside, then take it over. I saw so many officers like you who came to the fleet so thoroughly unprepared, and so many were just... lost, abandoned. Starfleet Academy is supposed to take the best and brightest, and make them into excellent officers, not anxious shufflers who have no idea how to lead. No offense to current company, but you were the first and not the last that told me something was wrong. Suffice to say, I am not at all pleased with what's coming out of Starfleet Academy these days, and I plan to do something about it. I think maybe they forgot how we used to do things back in my day, and it's high time the Academy was returned to the level of excellence it once stood for."

The fact that the speech sounded a lot like one component of a commencement address was not lost on Dox.

"If that assessment of me then wasn't so fvadt accurate, I might object." Dox chuckled a bit, with a bit of a grin. She was well aware of how damaged she was when Rita decided to take her under her proverbial wing, and the statements were both true and spoken with zero condescension or malice. "Still... you know better than most how miserable my academy experience was. So... knowing you'll be there in any capacity can only make it better."

"Rita... this is... I think this is perfect for you. I can't imagine anything better for Starfleet." Dox said with an honest smile. "And... on a somewhat selfish note... Mona is committed to supporting my decision with the girls, which means a lot. But I have to admit that knowing that you'll be around when I go back there as well... helps. Helps the decision feel just a little less heavy."

"Our home will always be open to you and your family, and when you come back to Earth, we'll make time for one another. Just because our lives go in separate directions, it doesn't mean we have to lose touch. Not like you are in another time period or another dimension, you know. It's only space," Rita smiled, genuinely happy that once again, she plotted the course as she moved, and as she did so, the course only became clearer.

"Look, I have to talk to Enalia... I've got a pretty strong suggestion for her too, and..." Pausing in her statement, the lost navigator course corrected. "You know what? It's high time I stopped treating you like the junior officer. You have just as much stake in this, and I'm bound to do better with your help than without it. If we're both leaving..."

Taking a deep breath, Rita laid it out for Dox. "I'm recommending to Enalia to return to her people. Take up the crown and lead the Artan fleet into a genuine merchant empire amongst the stars. She's miserable here, and I swear she's stuck it out since the Tribunal only because she's afraid of losing me if she doesn't stay in Starfleet. But I want her happy, and despite what she says, she's never happier than when she has a big, excellent hat."

"Hmmm..." Dox said as she thought about the situation Rita had laid before her. "That makes sense. She officially handed the reins off months ago just after the tribunal, but keeps holding on to parts of that position. Like Avia One... finding reasons to keep Sarika on board."

"I think you're right. Her heart is still with the Artans. She joined Starfleet to be free of the role her mother wanted for her. Free of what her mother had made them into, which isn't entirely unrelatable." Dox added, before another thought occurred to her and her face dropped a bit. "But, if she agrees... Me, Mona, You, Sonak, and the Captain? What does that mean for the ship?"

Smiling beatifically, Rita Paris gestured to the abundance of knicknaks and artifacts that filled her office. "The starship goes on, Miss Dox. She gets a new captain and a new crew, and she boldly goes. The crew will stay or go as they and Starfleet decide. What happens to the ship isn't our concern, because she was never ours. She was on loan to us, to use, from Starfleet. Now they'll send her out with other adventurers and explorers, to seek out... well. You know the rest."

The smile on Dox's face was a melancholy one, but she knew that Rita was right, as usual. "I know. At least... I know it in my head. I got so used to thinking of this ship as home."

"But it was never just the ship. It was you and everyone here. That family I never expected to start building." Dox looked around and smiled a little more comfortably again. "Now... she can be someone else's home. Carry them to where they need to be, to learn who they are."

"And I suppose I know for a fact now that home is where we choose to make it. With the people we choose to make it with." Dox smirked a bit, looking at one of the models of an older, Constitution-Class Starship on the shelf to the side of Rita's desk. One from Rita's native universe that, nonetheless, reminded Dox of the ship she had found a version of herself living happily a century in the past in the story of one of her leaps that she had told Rita about.

"C'mon," Rita said, rising from her chair, her hands instinctively smoothing out her short skirt, through years of habit. "Let's go talk the Queen of the Artans into reclaiming her throne. Let's go change the universe for the better, shall we?"

Standing up with a smile, Dox tugged down on her crimson tunic. Of all the ways this particular meeting could have gone, she would never have predicted this. "Indeed. But, uh, when I go to pitch all of this to my mother..."

"...can we go do that together, too?"