This story takes place a week after New Eden.

Welcome to Discovery

There is an infinitesimal interval at the end of the transport cycle, when rematerialization is at least one Plank time unit from completion, where the mind engages before the body can move. Scientists dismiss this as imaginary, a psychological reaction in those who dislike having their molecules disassembled, beamed across space and reassembled.

But it is real, and its length can vary depending on technological and environmental factors. Most don't notice it. Or choose to ignore it. Some find the experience claustrophobic. A few have even rematerialized in the middle of a panic attack.

Others recall distant memories or rematerialize humming a long-forgotten song.

There have been rare and unsubstantiated reports of witnessing an event that was never experienced or seeing an older version of oneself as if the linear overlay slipped away allowing time to be perceived non-sequentially, or as if an alternate universe touched your own.

This evening, as the transport cycle finished, Aalin observed a smiling woman, with curly and vivid red hair escaping its neatly pinned bun, accept command of a Starfleet ship as Chris, who looked to be a decade older, fondly watched. Once her body was responsive, she shook her head slightly to clear it. That was odd, she thought, was I reliving it or living it?

Before she could consider further, Chris was standing at the bottom of the transporter platform smiling. That special smile he reserved for her. The smile that was even more enchanting than the dimpled one which caused many to swoon.

"Welcome to Discovery," he said as he reached to take the overnight bag off her shoulder and held out his hand to assist her down the transporter platform steps. She thought, if doors still needed to be opened manually, he would open them for ladies, children, the frail, … well, being Chris, everyone.

Returning his smile with the one she gave solely to him, she took his hand and replied, "Thanks."

Aalin noticed the room was empty, except for them. With an expression of mock concern she asked, emphasizing the first word, "You operated the transporter? Really? How long has it been since you last beamed someone anywhere?" She patted around her arms, chest, and waist, "Is everything back in the right place?"

Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly before replying dryly, "I do remember how."

Falling into their familiar teasing banter melted away a little of the stress and worry from the past three weeks. Chris placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the room and into the hallway. Once in the public corridor he withdrew his hand and they silently walked side by side.

After a few minutes, near the turbolift, Aalin asked, used to Enterprise where the hallways were crowded and bustling every hour of the day and having not yet encountered any crew from Discovery. "Did you clear the deck?"

"Except for skeleton crews in essential areas, everyone is taking a 24 hour leave on the Starbase. And there is a higher ratio of square feet per crewman here, so Discovery feels less crowded." Chris answered as the lift doors opened.

"I see." She smiled playfully and her eyes sparkled. "This is fun, it's like sneaking into my boyfriend's dorm room. Or his parent's house."

As the turbolift doors closed, without thought, in familiar a habit, their hands reached out and clasped; releasing in an equally familiar habit once the doors started to reopen. A crewman entered and spoke to Chris in a series of squeaks and trills.

Chris inclined his head in an acknowledgement. "Linus."

The crewman repeated his squeaks and trills with a few hisses mixed in, looking, well the closest human interpretation would be frustrated. His shoulders slouched.

Aalin spoke to Linus in his native language. Turning to Chris she said, "His universal translator implant is malfunctioning, and he is going to Sickbay to have it replaced. He can understand you but cannot respond in Federation standard." She omitted translating the hisses which were a series of quite vivid expletives.

Chris made a mental note to check on Linus later. So much for under the radar, he thought before saying, "This is my wife, Aalin." One hard and fast rule overrode their craving for privacy – anyone serving under Chris, in fact any member of Starfleet with a rank lower than captain, deserved the courtesy of understanding Aalin's personal role in Chris' life. It shielded the crew from conversations they later might regret and the resulting awkward apologies.

He listened quietly as Aalin and Linus conversed in the Saurian's native language, enjoying the opportunity to watch his wife work. A couple of times Aalin chuckled and Linus's squeaks and trills changed to a higher pitch, his way of laughing or expressing awe. After one lengthy high-pitched sequence she blushed heavily and glanced at Chris before responding with a brief affirmative nod to Linus.

Once Linus exited the lift, their hands reached for one another again. Chris resisted the temptation to ask her what she and his Discovery crewman were talking about.

"I had an odd moment right before my beam-in completed." When his hand tensed in hers, she quickly added, "I'm fine, I saw someone I don't remember meeting …"

The lift stopped and Chris exited. Following him but unable to keep up with his longer strides, she continued, "and you were …"

He asked as the door to his quarters opened and closed, "I was?"

Putting her arms around his neck and reaching up for a kiss she responded, "It's not important right now." Then noticed the quick grimace he unsuccessfully tried to mask when she slid her hands down his chest and touched his right side.

He gave her a sheepish look, "Yeah, I need to tell you about that."

She stepped back. "Go on."

With his best unsure but game face Chris started, "I'm fine now, I hardly notice it."

Being fluent in Chris-speak Aalin translated that in her head to I'm in pain but no longer need meds.

"I was injured."

I barely survived.

"In a minor, well, what's one step up from minor, accident."

Something exploded, I was shot, or a vessel crashed.

"I was back on duty the next day."

The Discovery medical staff is more easily cowed than Enterprise's CMO.

"It was nothing to worry about."

You would have worried.

"What happened?" Aalin asked quietly.

"A phaser was overloading; a young girl was holding it. There were additional civilians as well as Spock's sister and another Discovery officer in the room. I … removed it before it exploded."

I used my body to shield others from a bomb blast.

"I see," she responded in a softer tone. Unfastening his uniform collar, she unzipped the jacket and gently removed it. Then exhaled deeply after lifting the undershirt and seeing the partially healed burned skin and the dark purple bruises. She traced the injured area without touching it. "Oh Chris. Why didn't they call me?"

He took her hand in his and pulled the shirt down. "I told them not to. You were where you needed to be. With Spock."

"Are you going to scold me too?" Chris asked breaking the momentary silence.

"You've already heard from Una and Phil?"

"And Tracy Pollard and Saru."

Aalin reached up to caress his cheek. "No. It would be like admonishing the sun for rising in the morning."

The intercom called out, "Captain to the bridge."

Chris straightened his uniform. "Sorry, the conn officer on the bridge is junior, I should check-in."

"I understand."

ooooo

It had been a turbulent three weeks. Staring with Spock, in a dissociative state, calling Chris for help in the middle of the night and Spock's subsequent admission to the psychiatric ward on Starbase 5. A week after Aalin left Enterprise to care for the young Vulcan science officer, the seven signals appeared, Enterprise suffered catastrophic failures and Chris transferred to Discovery. Enterprise was limping back to the closest spacedock under Una's command, expected in port today.

Oh, and Chris almost died – twice. Aalin cringed at her thought.

Tomorrow she would return to Starbase 5, but tonight they hoped to be just Chris and Aalin.

Chris returned an hour later. "All OK?" she asked from the sofa.

"Yes, false alarm." After noticing the robe she had changed into and her damp hair, he looked disappointed. Laughing she answered the unspoken question, "I could be persuaded into another shower."

"I'll indulge in that later," he murmured as he laid her on her back, untied the robe, and pushed its sides back and out of the way. Leaning down, Chris caressed her waist and trailed soft kisses over her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to the side, granting him better access.

The intercom chimed. He rested his forehead on hers in a moment of frustration before rising to answer the call. Unsure of the viewscreen camera's range, she tugged the robe back into place and refastened it.

"Sickbay sir. You wanted an update on Linus. The implant was replaced and he has been released to quarters."

"Thank you."

He turned back to her and shrugged out of his uniform jacket. "Where were we?"

"Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want to break the Captain; it might traumatize your new crew."

His look didn't need translated, plainly stating; 'it's been three weeks, if I were bleeding from multiple wounds, I'd be up for this.'

"You locked the door?" Aalin asked, rising to meet him. He nodded. Standing on the tips of her toes and reaching up, she nuzzled the side of his neck with her nose and mouth and nibbled his earlobe. "I've missed you," she said while she cupped his face and brushed his lips with hers.

Placing one hand on her waist and the other on her back to keep her steady, Chris returned the kiss, starting soft and affectionate; quickly it intensified, conveying passion and need. By the end she was breathless and dropped her head onto his shoulder, sagging against his chest. "You really should teach a class …" she murmured still leaning against him as the fingers of one of her hands traced up and down his chest and then began outlining small circles there.

He stroked the spot where her neck and shoulder meet and whispered in her ear, "I missed you as well."

The intercom chimed again. "Captain, you have a hail from Commander Nhan. Do you want to accept it?"

Chris mumbled a pithy reply under his breath as he walked to the desk. "Yes, send it here."

The viewscreen changed from Discovery's junior comms officer to a scowling Nhan. She started speaking without waiting for an acknowledgement. "I need your help Captain."

"When did Enterprise dock?"

"A couple of hours ago. But this isn't about Enterprise. A friend in the local Starbase security office called me. I tried to sort it out, but your intervention with the security chief and the base commander is required." Nhan replied in an annoyed tone of voice.

"What happened?"

"I know this sounds inconceivable, but Ensign Tilly has been detained. For starting a bar fight. Will you come?"

Chris sighed, "Yes, on my way."