Time for a Change
By Les Bonser
This is a work of non-commercial fan fiction. The characters used in this story remain the trademarked property of their respective owners. No trademark infringement is intended and no profits are made by the author for writing or distribution of this work.
No permission is given to anyone other than the author to archive this on any website. No permission is given to anyone other than the author to repost this on any newsgroup.
Chapter 14
USS Enterprise, in the Beta Quadrant
The command crews of the two ships once again met in the Executive Meeting Room. They were joined by Tony Stark, the man they'd rescued from the temporal anomaly.
Captain Picard stood at the front of the small auditorium. "The latest communication from Starfleet Command indicates that more temporal disruptions have been reported from all over the galaxy. Reports of problems have been received from nearly every major planet and outpost in the Federation. Starfleet Intelligence reports that similar incidents are occurring in the Dominion, the Romulan Empire, and the Tholian sector. Long range scans indicate that even the Borg areas of the Gamma Quadrant appear to be having disruptions."
"That's not encouraging," Sisko said. "I would have hoped that pulling Mr. Stark out of the anomaly here would have slowed things down."
Data spoke up, "Actually, Captain Sisko, we believe that action did slow down the occurrences."
Riker was astonished, "Data, you mean things could be worse?"
"Yes, Commander," Data confirmed.
Picard took control of the conversation amongst the two crews, "The important matter before us now is how can we track down the other four displaced individuals. Anyone have ideas?"
La Forge was the first to speak up. "Captain," he said, "We've reviewed the information from Stark's armor sensors." By "we" he meant Data, Chief O'Brien, Stark, and himself. "Using the information we've gathered in the past during other alternative universe encounters, we believe we have developed a way to retrieve the other people. Chief O'Brien figured out a way to reprogram the DS9 transporters to cross to the Mirror Universe. We think we can alter this mechanism to cross into *any* universe."
The chief engineer of the Enterprise went on to describe a system using their sensors and transporters. Using the quantum frequency traces they'd extrapolated from Stark's armor sensors, they had developed a "road-map" of each individual's path through time and interdimensional space. It helped that the four had a common starting position.
To test the theory, they'd back-traced Stark's own path. The theory seemed to hold; Stark's path from his own universe, into the second universe, and into the Enterprise's universe all conformed to the theory.
"But," La Forge explained, "It's not a precise measurement."
"How so?" Captain Picard asked.
La Forge tried to explain, "Impressive as it is, Mr. Stark's armor wasn't designed to track temporal displacements or multi-dimensional transports. We had to extrapolate the vector paths from the available data. There is a factor of uncertainty in our calculations."
"The further the individuals get from their origin point, the less certain we are exactly where they are. Each vector path is only a best guess effort as to where they are. We may have to try several times before we find anyone. Maybe more than several."
It was obvious that La Forge was frustrated by the limitations placed before them. And, he was trying to explain a topic that only a handful of scientists in the entire Federation even claims to understand. And explain it in a way everyone could understand.
"Well, the analogy is this," La Forge said. "Let's use Commander Riker for example. I pass him in the corridor, so I know which corridor he's traveled down. But the further away he gets from me, the less likely I'm able to predict or know which cabin he goes into."
"Hopefully, we'll get better at it as we gain some experience," Sisko said.
"Jean-Luc?" It was Dr. Crusher.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Perhaps the Traveler could help," the doctor suggested.
The doctor was talking about the enigmatic alien they'd met early in their missions with the Enterprise-D. A resident of Tau Alpha C, the Traveler had the ability to travel unimaginable distances using thoughts alone. Dr. Crusher and the rest of the Enterprise crew hadn't seen the Traveler since he'd appeared on Dorvan Five and offered to teach Wesley Crusher in the use of the young Crusher's emerging powers.
Picard nodded. "We don't have time to find him," the Captain reminded this chief medical officer. "Even if we had any idea of where to start looking."
Dr. Crusher reluctantly nodded.
Picard addressed his chief engineer, "Geordi, let's proceed with your plan. Everyone on both ships is at your disposal." He looked at Captain Sisko. Sisko nodded his agreement.
"Aye, Captain."
"How long before we're ready to begin?" Picard asked.
"We'll need to do some tests on the transporter targeting scanners. Wouldn't do to have us beaming into another universe only to materialize inside a wall or the ground or ..." La Forge trailed off.
Everyone understood the danger.
A couple hours later, Data reported to Captains Picard and Sisko that the test canisters had worked as expected. La Forge and O'Brien had been able to beam a transporter test canister with a tricorder attached to it into at least three different universes and retrieve it safely.
The test canisters were precisely manufactured cylinders of a special metal that was extremely sensitive to transporter malfunctions. The slightest misalignment in the transporter mechanism would cause the canister to crumble. They were used routinely to test the transporter after major and even minor repairs.
The engineers had attached a specially programmed tricorder to the canister. The tricorder recorded the quantum frequency of each universe the canister went into. It also provided a visual record to confirm where the canister appeared. The visual record from one of the transports had shown what appeared to be a person examining the canister, but the other two universes had yielded no apparent witnesses to their activities.
The transporter had an extremely sophisticated scanner system designed to pinpoint the beam down and rematerialization. This prevented the person or object being transported from materializing inside a ship's bulkhead, or under a planet's ground surface, or too far in the air, or even in the vacuum of outer space. Multiple fail-safes allowed the transporter system to override an operator's instructions if the beam down location wasn't safe.
To get the system to work across the dimensional boundaries, La Forge, O'Brien, and Data had to override the fail-safes and manually perform the scanning step. Before they risked any people on the system, they wanted to confirm that it worked.
A radio station in Seattle
"Five seconds, Dr. Crane," Roz Doyle said.
"Thank you, Roz," Dr. Frasier Crane acknowledged his producer. He watched through the glass that separated his radio studio from the engineer booth where Roz sat. Like him, she wore a headset over her ears. She counted down with her fingers.
Five, four, three, two, one, Roz pointed at Dr. Crane.
"Good morning, Seattle," Dr. Crane said smoothly into the mike in front of him. "This is Doctor Frasier Crane. I'm listening."
"Dr. Crane," Roz said, "Our first call today is from Sarah."
"Hello, Sarah, I'm listening," Dr. Crane said.
"Hello, hello," the caller said. "Am I on the air?"
"Yes, Sarah, you are. How can I help you," Dr. Crane tried to remain calm. Sometimes, callers could be so stupid.
"Dr. Crane, I think I'm going crazy."
"Why do you say that, Sarah?"
"I'm seeing things."
"What sort of things?"
"I saw this strange metal robot. It was about three feet tall and had a blinking red eye on the top."
Frasier rolled his eyes. Great, he thought, and this is just the first call. Only another 55 minutes of this. He kept his voice smooth and calm. "Where did you see this 'robot'?"
"I was driving to work. It just sort of appeared on the side of the highway."
"Sarah, are you sure it wasn't some sort of road repair equipment? There is a lot of construction out there," Dr. Crane suggested.
"No. That wasn't it," the caller was getting agitated. "I know what I saw. I stopped and looked at it closely." The caller's voice lowered, "And it disappeared right in front of me."
"It disappeared?"
"Yes, it just sort of dissolved right in front of my eyes."
"I'm sure it did, Sarah. And that reminds me," Dr. Crane said, "It's time for a word from our sponsor. Do you have water spots in your dishwasher? Dissolve them right away with Crystal Clear Duz detergent."
Roz cued Frasier that the commercial was playing and his mike was no longer active.
"Tell me, Roz, is there a full moon today? Because it sounds like the nuts are out today."
"I wouldn't know, Frasier. You're back on in 15 seconds."
Riker approached Captain Picard. "I'd like to suggest Data and myself for the first mission," the first officer said.
"No, Number One."
"Who do you suggest, Captain?"
"I'm going myself," Picard said.
"With all due respect, Captain, but I can't allow that. You know Starfleet regulations prohibit the commanding officer of ..."
Picard interrupted his first officer, his friend, with a wave of his hand. "Will, the fate of the entire universe rests on this mission. Plus, we're not even sure this is going to work. Given the circumstances, I can't send subordinates off to God only knows where. This is one time the regulations be damned."
Riker nodded. He understood the Captain's reaction. In Picard's position, Riker probably would have felt the same way.
"Besides, Number One, Data has to stay here. He's the only one that understands all this temporal and multi-universe stuff. Geordi, and O'Brien, and even Stark understand bits and pieces of it, but only Data understands the whole thing. Him and a few Vulcan scientists back at the Vulcan Science Academy."
"Understood, Captain. In that case, I'd like to volunteer to accompany you."
"Who'll run the ship if we don't come back?" Picard asked.
"Captain Sisko seems more than capable, sir. And Data and Commander La Forge are both excellent officers."
Picard turned to his first officer and offered his hand. The two men shook. "Welcome to the mission, Number One," Picard said. "Let's get ready."
The Beta Quadrant
As the transporter beam faded away, Picard and Riker found themselves in a rocky area. They materialized on a shallow area, a small canyon actually, between two cliffs of red rocks. At first glance, Picard thought he was back on Veridian III. Riker immediately had the reconfigured tricorder out and began scanning.
"This is definitely a different universe," the first officer of the Enterprise said. "Quantum frequencies of quarks, bosons, and leptons is about three percent higher than our norm. Just as Data predicted."
The rocks had a red and orange tint to them, similar to the Sedona region in Earth's North American state of Arizona or the Cydonia area of Mars. It also looked and felt a lot like most of Vulcan. There was evidence of wind and water erosion in the rocks, with layers upon layers of sediment showing in the rock strata.
"Looks a bit barren," Picard said. "Warm too." He ran his hand over his bald forehead.
"Shouldn't be here long," Riker said. "This reconfigured tricorder is scanning just fine. I'll have all the readings I need in just another minute or so."
"Anything?"
"Nothing so far," Riker responded.
Ever the explorer, Picard said, "Let's look around a bit. Not everyday we get to be the first men to explore an entirely new universe."
The captain headed off down the canyon.
"Is it wise to venture far from our beam down coordinates?" Riker questioned.
"If these red rocks mean the same thing they do in our universe, there's a lot of iron oxide in this canyon," Picard explained. "It could interfere with the tricorder readings. I think we should get out of this canyon and onto higher ground if nothing else."
Riker nodded. "I'm reading nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing here with a quantum frequency not native to this universe is us."
Picard surveyed his surroundings again. He pointed to a gentle slope up the canyon wall. "Let's try climbing up there," he suggested. "We'll take one more reading from the higher ground and then we can signal for beam up."
The two men took the climb slowly due to the heat. After a couple minutes, they crested the ridge above the small canyon. From this vantage point, they could see the surrounding area for kilometers. The area on the other side of the canyon was barren, but the area on their side of the canyon sloped smoothly down into a lush valley.
Although Riker's tricorder hadn't found anything that suggested a need to explore the area, the two men walked a little further down the slope. The first purpose of Starfleet was to explore, so explore they did. The two took careful note of the types of trees and plants they saw as they walked down off the rocky ridge. The majority of the plants looked to be a type of fern, Picard thought, similar to that of Earth's Mesozoic era.
They hadn't walked for more than ten minutes and were still within site of the ridge above the canyon where they'd arrived when they heard the sound of voices. Cautious, they both pulled out their tricorders and rescanned the area. The reprogrammed tricorders had defaulted to scanning for the overall quantum frequency of the area, but they both switched to life signs scanning.
Picard motioned silently to Riker. Riker nodded in agreement; they both had determined that the sound was coming from a clearing on the other side of a grove of the fern-like trees.
They carefully crept forward to get a visual record.
What they saw was a bunch of apparent humans. The group only numbered four adults and two children, on a picnic in the clearing. The two adult males were lounging in hammocks while the two women prepared the meal. The children played with a dog-like creature. All were dressed in animal skins and were apparently this universe's equivalent of prehistoric hominids.
The universal translator either couldn't make out what the proto-humans were saying, or Riker and Picard weren't close enough for the device to capture the sounds.
Picard held up his hand and motioned for them to not go any further. They both continued their tricorder scan. Enough information would be gathered from the passive monitoring of the hominid group without initiating a "first contact."
Riker and Picard watched as the little girl and the little boy tossed what appeared to be a bone back and forth. The proto-dog ran back and forth between the children, trying to get the bone. The girl was dressed in a brown animal skin and her red hair was gathered together at the top of her head with what appeared to be another bone. The little boy was blond and, judging from how far he could throw, was quite strong for his age.
The two women were likewise in animal skins. The taller of the two, also a redhead, was wearing an off-white skin and had a crude necklace of pearls tied around her neck. The other was much shorter and had black hair. The two women took turns cranking a large spit of meat over an open fire.
From their position, Riker and Picard couldn't see the two men very well, but the dark haired one appeared to be wearing a tiger skin and was much larger than his companion. The short blond man was wearing a brown-colored animal skin that matched that of the young boy.
After a few minutes of recording the idyllic scene with their tricorders, Picard reluctantly decided to leave. They still didn't know how predictably their search would progress. What they were searching for was not here.
Although the anthropological opportunities were ample here in this universe of early hominids, Picard's first duty was to the safety of the Federation and of his own universe. And if Data was right, all the universes could eventually collapse if the anomaly wasn't repaired.
The two officers eased back away from the clearing, trying to make no noise that would attract their unsuspecting subjects. They then walked back to the small canyon and activated the recall device that La Forge and O'Brien had designed.
Picard and Riker waiting patiently. Nothing happened for several long seconds. Picard was just about to consider the possibility that they were stranded in this strange new universe when he finally felt the tingle at the base of his skull that told him the transporter beam had locked on to them. Another few seconds and he was back aboard the Enterprise.
Fred Flintstone laid back in his hammock and smiled. It was Sunday and he and his best friend in the entire whole world, Barney Rubble, were off work. They'd brought their families to this isolated little spot for a relaxing picnic.
Pebbles and Bam-Bam were playing fetch with Dino. Wilma and Betty, Fred and Barney's wives, were fixing a roast of bronto.
"Doesn't get much better than this, does it Barn?" Fred asked.
"I agree, Fred, old buddy," Barney said. "It doesn't get any better!"
What neither Fred nor Barney saw, beyond the fern trees, was a ominous cloud on the far horizon. Through the cloud, a sparkling space-age city shimmered into existence for a moment. And then, as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.
The temporal anomaly went unnoticed by the citizens of Bedrock.
Picard and Riker stepped down off the transporter pad. Data, La Forge, O'Brien, and Stark were waiting for them in the transporter room. Just as they appeared on the transporter pad, Dr. Crusher had walked in.
"Nothing to report," Picard told the group. He handed his tricorder to La Forge for the engineer to download the data they'd collected.
"Right," Riker confirmed. "Definitely a different universe, but no sign of anything or anyone out of the ordinary."
Picard turned to Dr. Crusher. The doctor was scanning the two officers. "Doctor?"
"Just routine, Jean-Luc," Crusher explained.
"Doctor. Beverly. The transporter deals with any potentially dangerous pathogens. This is not 'just routine'."
Crusher sighed. "I have a hunch. That's all."
"A hunch about what?" Riker said. As first officer, the safety of the ship and it's crew was paramount. "Is there a risk to the ship?"
"No," Crusher explained. "But possibly to you."
"Explain, Doctor," Picard commanded.
The doctor closed her tricorder and stuffed it in her medical jacket. She paced for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I've been monitoring Mr. Stark," she said. That was a routine responsibility, particularly considering his travel through time. It was Starfleet standard operating procedure to monitor any individuals that came forward through time. It was possible that they might bring extinct viruses or bacteria with them. The transporter only filtered out what it was programmed for.
"He's doing just fine. No strange viruses or anything," the doctor explained. "But I've noticed some changes at the sub-atomic level. He's breathing, and eating and drinking, molecules from our universe. There's some small amounts of cellular degradation because of the interaction of our universe's atoms interacting with his atoms. Nothing major, but notable."
"And your scan of us?" Picard asked.
"Well, you weren't in the other universe very long, but you did breath that universe's air while you were there."
"Yes," Picard prompted.
"So there's some small amounts of the same cellular degradation in both you and Commander Riker," Crusher explained. "It's barely above the normal levels of cellular degradation. But if you make multiple transports into multiple universes, I'm afraid the degradation could reach levels where it would be detrimental, possibly even lethal."
"I see," Picard said. "Recommendations?"
"It's just a theory at this point, Jean-Luc," Dr. Crusher said. "I need to continue monitoring you after each transport."
"Perhaps we just need to rotate the command crews," Riker suggested. "Instead of doing each transport ourselves."
Picard nodded. It was the sensible thing to do, he thought.
"Uh, Doctor?" It was Stark.
"Yes, Mr. Stark?"
"This cellular deterioration? What are the long-term effects?" Stark was concerned. He'd already battled one case of cellular deterioration caused by his armor, he didn't necessarily want to go through all that again.
"I don't believe so," Crusher said. "Perhaps Data or the Vulcans have some different ideas, but I think if you stay in any given universe long enough, all of your atoms will eventually be replaced by atoms from that universe. The cellular degradation occurs only when the quantum frequency of your atoms conflicts with the frequency of the atoms you're ingesting."
"So, if we get stranded in another universe, we should be okay?" Riker asked.
"Well, yes, I guess," Crusher said. "But there'll be other factors. You might land somewhere where the food would be poison to you, or the water like acid."
"Understood," Picard said. "We need to develop a rotation schedule so that everyone limits their exposure to this cellular degradation. We'll start with the command crews from both ships and extend that as necessary." He turned to Riker, "Will, set up the schedules. Let me know when they're ready so we can resume the search."
"Aye, Captain."
It took Riker only a few minutes to coordinate with Dr. Crusher and Data. They came up with a rotation schedule using the command crews of the Enterprise and the Defiant. Although they were loath to do so, they put Data into the rotation. Data argued that he was not as indispensable as Picard had suggested. The Vulcan scientists were available via sub-space communications and could provide as much, if not more, information about multiple universes and quantum frequency differences than he could.
Data also suggested that because he was an android and didn't need to eat, or even breath for that matter, he should be the most resistant to the deterioration.
La Forge entered the conversation and voiced a concern that Data's positronic brain might actually be more sensitive to the quantum differences between universes.
Several minutes of discussions between Data and La Forge failed to resolve the potential conflicts. They could only send Data on a mission and find out.
Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker to Picard."
"Yes, Number One?"
"We're ready. We have a rotation schedule and we're ready to resume the search."
"Notify the crews to their schedule and begin as soon as possible. Starfleet Command has indicated that the temporal problems are worsening."
"Understood, sir."
"Commander?"
"Yes, Mr. Stark?"
"I've made the necessary adjustments to my armor. It will be functional in any universe we're likely to visit. I'd like to be included in the rotation schedule."
"I don't know if that would be wise, Mr. Stark," Riker said.
"Please, call me Tony," Stark said. "If the sensor readings from my armor are correct, several of the people you're looking for are what we call 'superheros'. It might make things easier if they see one of their own."
"You?"
Stark nodded. "And if your search takes too long, you'll have run out of people to send. Putting me into the rotation will give you additional attempts."
"I'll consider it," Riker said.
"Not to mention that it was my little trip on the time machine that started this. I'm the one responsible. I should have a hand in fixing it."
"Very well, Mr. Stark, Tony," Riker said. "I guess you're as involved with this as anyone is. I'll add you to the schedule."
Counselor Deanna Troi and Doctor Julian Bashir stood on the transporter platform. They were both a little uncomfortable about actually transporting into another universe--Julian had been in the mirror universe, but Deanna had never done something like this.
"It's real easy, Deanna, Doctor," Riker said. The first officer of the Enterprise was briefing them prior to their away mission. "The tricorders have been reprogrammed. Just press program 'alpha' and it'll do all the rest. If there's a quantum signature that's not native to that universe, it'll move into the standard lifeform scan and search program. This will allow you to find the person you're looking for. If the recall device fails for any reason, program 'beta' on both tricorders will initiate the recall. Understood?"
"Yes, Commander," Bashir said. He double-checked his tricorder and then tucked it into a holster.
"Yes, Will," Deanna said. "What was it like? Beaming into another universe."
Riker shrugged. "For the Captain and I, it was just like beaming down to any planet. The transport itself seemed to take a little longer, but it felt just like any other transport."
This seemed to put Deanna at ease. She looked at Chief O'Brien, standing behind the transporter control console. "Ready when you are, Chief."
"Right, Counselor," O'Brien said. "Good luck, Deanna. Good luck, Julian. You come back, now. I still have to beat you at darts...at least once."
"We'll be back," Bashir promised. "Energize."
"Energizing," O'Brien said and ran his hand across the control.
The two on the transporter pad dematerialized.
And rematerialized a moment later at the back of a large room. The room was full of people, some in chairs, some sitting at tables. Fortunately, all the people were facing the other direction and didn't see Troi and Bashir appear out of nowhere.
"Where are we?" Deanna asked, her voice a whisper.
"I'm not sure. This looks like a twentieth century 'television' studio." It helped that Bashir was an aficionado of twentieth century history. He took out his tricorder and began scanning.
Deanna watched the man at the front of the room. He had dark hair and was extremely energetic. The large metal boxes on wheels must be the cameras, Deanna thought. She'd read about 'television', but had never seen anything like this, not even in a museum. But she did recognize a kitchen. It was some sort of cooking show. As Bashir scanned for the quantum frequency of the person they were seeking, she watched the show.
"And that's how you kick it up a notch," the man at the front of the studio said. "Stay tuned. Go get one of those frozen things, you know what I'm talking about. And come back in a minute and we'll be making a chocolate truffle soufflé with dark chocolate ganache." As the man talked, his voice got louder and louder. The crowd was getting excited and began clapping and yelling. "Right here on Emeril Live!"
"That's it," Deanna said, snapping her fingers. She wasn't too concerned about whispering; the crowd was making more than enough noise to cover her conversation with Bashir. "I thought he looked familiar."
"Who?" Bashir asked. "Him?" He nodded toward the front of the studio.
"Yes," Deanna said. "That's Emeril Lagasse. He's a famous chef from the early twenty-first century. My father had an antique cookbook of his." If fact, the cookbook was one of Deanna's most priced possessions. It was in a vault on Betazed, in the care of her mother. It was one of the few things Deanna had of her deceased father's and she held it most dear.
"The scan's almost done," Bashir said.
"Too bad, I could stay here awhile."
"The chocolate soufflé?" Bashir asked. He'd heard Chief O'Brien's stories about Counselor Troi's weakness for chocolate.
The Counselor nodded. "If the recall device fails, I'm okay to stay here, you know."
Bashir assumed she was kidding. There was too much at stake for either of them to indulge themselves. Bashir himself would have loved to have walked out of the studio and just stroll around the city. It didn't matter which city; any city would have been fine. It was the late twentieth or early twenty-first century. Think of all the things he could see!
"Scan's done. There's nothing here."
Troi sighed almost loud enough for the people in the audience directly in front of her to hear. "Time to go home, right?"
"Right," Bashir said.
"Now this soufflé is a favorite of mine," Emeril was saying in front of the studio. "And it's a favorite at my restaurants as well."
Deanna reluctantly pressed the button on the recall device. Her eyes were moist as she dematerialized. Emeril disappeared from her sight and she thought fondly of her late father as the darkness of the transporter took her away.
"Counselor, are you okay?" O'Brien asked as she and Bashir reappeared in the Enterprise transporter room. "Did everything go okay?"
"Everything's fine, Chief," Troi said with melancholy in her voice. She stepped down from the pad and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Bashir was already scanning himself for the cellular deterioration. "I'll be in Ten-Forward, Doctor," she said.
"I'll be along with you in a moment," Bashir said. "I'll buy you dessert," he said, a knowing smile on his face.
"Thanks, Julian," Deanna said and walked out the transporter room.
Captain Benjamin Sisko and his first officer, Colonel Kira Nerys of the Bajoran Militia materialized in the shadow of a huge building. They hung back in the shadow for a moment to get their bearings.
Several people in robes walked by, but didn't really notice them.
"That sounds like Latin," Sisko said, referring to the speech of the people.
"The universal translator seems to understand it," Kira said. "They said something about 'the games'."
"Yeah, that's what I made it out as also." Sisko looked around. "This looks familiar," he said.
"You've been here?"
"No, but I've seen it in the history records. I think this is the Colosseum. This must be ancient Rome," Sisko said. "Anything on the tricorder?"
Kira took out her tricorder and began scanning. "Nothing yet." A small group of men walked by. This time the passersby took notice. One of the men commented to the rest and gestured in Kira's direction. The universal translator built into Kira's communicator translated the comment as a crude remark about the tightness of her jumpsuit and her suitability as a sexual partner.
"Well, we can't just stand here," Sisko said, upset with the comment.
"And exactly where will we go?" Kira asked, incised.
"Why, to the games, of course."
Kira gave Sisko a glance. "Are you crazy?" she asked.
"Come on now, Picard would never forgive me if I didn't bring him back some tricorder recordings of ancient Rome at its height." Sisko looked around and saw a small shop down a dark alley. He motioned for Kira to follow.
She did so, still mad and still scanning with the tricorder.
There were no locks on the door and the shop appeared deserted. "Closed for the games, no doubt," Sisko said. He looked around and quickly found what he was looking for--two togas. He tossed one to Kira and began to put the other on himself.
The togas allowed them to cover their uniforms and blend into the crowd. The folds of the togas also allowed them to use the tricorder without drawing undue attention to themselves. And they allowed Kira to disguise herself. Sisko was sure that if she heard another crude and sexually suggestive remark, she'd want to physically assault whoever made the remark.
On Bajor, it was considered a great insult to make such remarks. But this wasn't Bajor, it was ancient Rome.
A few minutes later, the two joined the crowd outside. The general flow of the crowd was into the large concrete building. A little while later, Sisko and Kira found themselves in what amounted to the "cheap" seats. They sat on crude wooden benches as far away from the other spectators as they could. Far below, there were two men fighting in the arena.
"This is barbarous," Kira said.
"Yes, it is," Sisko agreed. "But it's an important part of Earth's history. These men are called gladiators."
"And this is considered sport?" Kira asked.
"Not really. It's more a form of entertainment for the audience. Personally, I prefer baseball," Sisko said.
The crowd was yelling as the two men fought. One was armed only with a single sword and the other had a net and trident. They parried each other, each trying to find the other's weakness. It quickly became apparent that the man with the sword was the better fighter of the two.
In the crowds around them, people were exchanging money, small metal coins, and arguing with each other. Kira determined by the portions of the conversations the communicator could translate that the transactions were gambling. The odds seemed to be moving to favor a victory by someone called "Maximus."
The crowd began cheering the winner on. "Maximus, Maximus," they yelled. The gladiator's name became a chant. The gladiator with the sword was winning. He had his opponent down and was ready to deliver the death blow.
Sisko was capturing all of it with his tricorder.
Kira finished her own scan. "Another dead end," she said. "Nothing here that doesn't belong here. And as far as I'm concerned, it can all stay here!"
"Understood," Sisko said.
He moved back into a nearly deserted corridor and Kira followed him. "Ready?"
"Yes," she said.
He pressed the recall device and then quickly removed the toga. He didn't want to further complicate their problems by displacing the ancient cloth from its rightful time and place. Kira removed her toga as well, just before the transporter beam caught the two. The toga had barely settled to the floor of the corridor as the two dematerialized.
Doctor Beverly Crusher and Chief Miles O'Brien materialized on a road at the edge of a small town. The town appeared to have one main street, the road on which they stood. Far in the distance were mountains. Pine trees and the smell of the forest was everywhere.
"Where are we?" O'Brien asked.
Crusher had out her tricorder. She began scanning. "Don't know," she said. She looked around at the scenery. "Where ever it is, it's definitely beautiful."
The two began to walk toward the town. On the way in, they saw a small store. It looked like the sort of general store that they had only seen in a holonovel. The sort of place that served as a store, the post office, and any number of other functions for the small town. A sign outside the store read, "United States Post Office. Cicely, Alaska."
"Alaska," O'Brien said. "Commander Riker's from Alaska, right?"
"Yes," Beverly said. "Now I know why he talks about it so much. It's beautiful here. My god, can you imagine growing up here?"
"No," O'Brien said, honestly.
On one side of the street was a building with a sign on it that read "Roslyn Cafe," but it should have been "Roslyn's Cafe," and someone painted in the apostrophe and the "s" in a different type of paint from the original sign.
Across the street from that building was a store front. As the two Starfleet officers walked by, they could see into a small radio studio. The young man, the disk jockey, waved at them as they walked by. The sign in the window read: "KBHR, Voice of the Last Frontier."
"Last Frontier?" Crusher said. "I thought space was the last frontier?"
O'Brien smiled. "Don't ask me," he said, shrugging.
Just then two men exited from the restaurant opposite the radio station. The two Starfleet officers continued on down the street, but they couldn't help hearing the two men arguing. "Damn it, Maurice, this isn't fair."
"No body said anything about fair, Fleishman. The State of Alaska paid for your medical education and you're going to repay that loan by staying here. Right here! In Cicely, Alaska. And you're going to enjoy it!"
"Well," O'Brien said. "Maybe it's *not* such a great place."
"You can't convince me of that," Crusher said.
The two walked through to the other end of town, barely ten minutes worth of walking. By the time they got there, Crusher had finished her scan.
"Nothing," she said. "I'm picking up nothing that Data said would indicate one of the people we're looking for."
"Then let's head home," O'Brien said. "I've been on DS9 too long; open spaces are beginning to get to me," he laughed.
"Just a minute," Crusher said. She continuing scanning with the tricorder.
"Doctor, I thought you said you didn't pick anything up?"
"I didn't. I just thought Commander Riker might enjoy a little travel log." Crusher put away the tricorder and reluctantly pressed the recall button.