STAR TREK:
ANACRONISMS
By T'Layna
MacMathain,
and Tigris
Euphrates
This is a crossover story is based on the Star Trek universe created by Gene Roddenberry and the Gargoyles universe created by Greg Wiseman and Michael Reeves. All vessels and characters that have appeared in Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Star Trek Voyager and related movies are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures. Gargoyles and related characters are registered trademarks of Buena Vista Pictures and Walt Disney Studios. The stories and characters not described above are original creations of T'Layna MacMathain, Tigris Euphrates, Sapph Blackstone and Poison Thorns Productions. Copyright (c) 2000 All rights reserved.
Chapter One
A New Beginning
From the Station Manager's Log: Stardate 39772.9-Chief Engineer
Makar Deenax was severely injured in Jeffries tube Two Delta. He was working on an EPS conduit when
something burned the outer shielding away. The resulting breach showered Deenax with plasma. Dr. Devlin told me flatly that K34's medical
facilities are inadequate for the extent and type of injuries Deenax
sustained. On the positive side, the
Deenax symbiont sustained little damage. Prognosis is grim however for the Makar host body. Dr. Devlin estimates his chances for
survival at less than 40%. I am
ordering an emergency transport to Starbase Thirteen. I hope that they can save him.
"Hang in their, boss." Assistant Chief Engineer Lev Kallinan said with hope he really didn't
feel inside. He had no illusions about
the extent and degree of his boss' injuries. The hulking engineer from Centauri again squeezed the hand of his
unconscious boss. Now he began to
regret the many behind-the-back remarks he made to his now critically injured
boss. The doctor wedged his way between
the Centaurian and injured form lying in the medical bay. He flipped open his medical tricorder and
waved a mediscanner over the prone Trill. Ten seconds later, he snapped the tricorder closed and pocketed the
mediscanner. The doctor's face didn't
make Kallinan feel any more reassured. The lines across the doc's forehead seemed to almost reveal his
mind. His boss was barely alive, and
probably won't make it. He turned to
the pilot of the shuttle. "Deela,
can't you get this junk pile to go any faster?"
"Look Lev, this rust-bucket isn't exactly a ship-of-the-line
you know," Pazet Deela snapped back angrily. Kallinan was surprised by her rage. A seething rage that was obvious in the blazing auburn eyes
flanking her ridged nose. "I'm
lucky this wreck can go this fast in still stay in one piece. Maybe you could go out and push this dammed
thing!" The anger in her voice was
dripping venom by the liter.
"All right already! You don't have to bite my head off!" Lev replied, taken aback by her anger. Why do so many Bajoran women love to bite off people's
heads? Guess I'd bite off people's
heads off too if my people had been Cardassian punching bags for six decades,
Kallinan ruefully thought. She's
worried about Makar as well.
Pazet returned her attention to piloting the ship. She was indeed worried about Makar. Unbeknownst to Kallinan, Pazet was in love
with Makar, and they had been conducting a secret affair while they were on
K34. It took the self-control of a
Vulcan to suppress the growing reservoirs of tears in her eyes. She didn't know what the future held. There was a very real possibility that the
Makar host body would die. Dr. Devlin
was too quiet about his condition. Like
the other miners in the small shuttle, she was afraid she would lose him. She silently prayed to the Prophets for
divine help. She wished she were
heading to Deep Space Nine instead of Starbase Thirteen. She knew the shuttle didn't have the range
or the speed to get to DS-9 in time. If
she could get Makar to DS-9, perhaps the Emissary can help in some way. The Sisko always seems to succeed at
whatever he does. She also knew that
DS-9 boasted one of the most gifted doctors in the entire Alpha Quadrant.
What even tortured her heart even more was the possibility that
the Deenax symbiont would survive and be joined with a female host or even a
non-Bajoranoid. She could accept his
death above being joined with an incompatible host. She didn't even know if symbionts could join with other
Bajoranoids or even non-Bajoranoids. She did know that Trills have joined with Terran humans. Humans were close enough to Bajorans as far
as she was concerned. Though the Makar
host body was a native Trill humanoid, he was Bajoran enough for her. He had even offered to have cosmetic surgery
done to Bajoranize his features to please her. She feared the worst. It would
crush her if her lover came back as a woman of any species. She was very much a heterosexual.
About an hour later, the ship came within hailing range of
Starbase Thirteen.
"This is the Red Star Mining shuttle Demon II to Starbase Thirteen,
priority alpha medical emergency." Pazet said into the comm. "We have a medical emergency from
K34. Request vector and clearance. ETA about one hour to transporter
range. Need emergency transport to
sickbay."
"Demon II, you are cleared. Approach vector 241 mark 16," replied the Deltan comm officer. Kallinan shook his head. Time seemed to drag agonizingly slow. Another hour they will be within transport
range. I hope that this Trill is one of
those that can use a transporter. Lev
sat back in the seat with a loud whoof! There was nothing he could do, and he hated feeling that way. His mind began to replay the accident with
the clarity of a security grid playback.
Most engineers seem to become a living part of the systems they
maintained and managed. Station Manager
Sanchez even joked that his engineering crew had been assimilated by the mine's
systems. Sanchez' joke was partly true. Lev Kallinan was one such engineer. So was Makar Deenax. WHUMPF! Kallinan felt the rupture before he heard the alarm klaxons filling the
mine with that wailing sound Lev felt was specifically designed to make your
stomach crawl and send your heart rate through the roof. With growing, sickening, certainty he feared
the worst. Few sounds can fill an
engineer with more dread than a conduit breach.
"Boss! This is
Lev! Are you all right? Come in Deenax!" he nearly screamed
into his commbadge. Silence. At least the tube sensors deactivated the
EPS conduit instantly. That would help
limit the damage. He wanted to have at
least some degree of optimism as he barked orders into his commbadge to summon
a rescue team from the other miners. What will I find in there?
Kallinan ordered the computer to release the hatches and security
fields that protected the mine. Without
them, this sector of the mine could have caved in. He knew that his boss was in serious trouble when he entered the
Jeffries tube and saw the haze. Acrid
smoke with a sickeningly sweet smell mixed in with the metallic smell of
high-energy plasma by-products filled his nose. Smells he had smelled before. One never forgets the smell of burnt flesh. His mind drifted to the experience that led to his introduction
of those dreaded aromas.
Suddenly, he was back to being a junior engineer on the Velaro. The-was a Bajor-registered cargo freighter
that was returning to Bajor after picking up a load of cargo modules and
medical supplies from Starbase 77. It
was a risky journey. Starbase 77 had
posted warnings about possible pirate activity in the general area of the
Mainstream Nebula. Normally, Captain
Landa would have avoided such risks, but the medical supplies contained the
vaccine and medicines necessary to treat an outbreak of Cardassian hepatic
fever in the fertile Narbin River valley. This particular disease was just one of the Cardassian Union's unwanted
"gifts" from the Occupation. Captain Landa felt the risk was necessary since Cardassian hepatic fever
was fatal in about 60% of the cases. Delays could kill dozens, or even hundreds.
Three days later, they came under attack by three fighters of one
of the smuggler cartels hiding out of the Mainstream Nebula. When Captain Landa was unable to negotiate a
safe passage, the lead ship opened fire on the poorly armed freighter. A phaser bolt struck the engineering section
and caused a coolant leak. The safety
doors sealed off engineering, trapping three engineers. The escaping coolant killed his college
buddy and mentor Daniel Walton and severely poisoned the other two. It was his first experience of combat in
deep space, and he felt he could have lived without it. Had it not been for the chance appearance of
a Federation Miranda-class ship returning to Starbase 77, he probably wouldn't
be here.
Sensors had located the breach about fifty meters in the Jeffries
tube. That's probably where Deenax
was. He snapped out a tricorder and
confirmed his boss' life signs. He
entered the Jeffries tube crawling on the metal grillwork of a floor. Damn...I wish I had my kneepads on now. His vision was partially obscured by the
smoke. At least the oxypak was allowing
him to breathe. He had to get Deenax
out of there. Smoke is an ancient
killer. Deenax was more than a superior
was; he had also become a friend. I'll
be damned if I am going to lose you like I did Danny!
When he entered the sector where the breach occurred, he noticed a
twenty-centimeter gap through the outer shielding. What in the name of the Stellar Spirits could cause this kind of
damage? There was also a
twenty-centimeter hole burned through the solid deranite walls along with
several centimeters of duranium alloy. He also noticed the hole was more like a burrow, extending several
meters into the rock before turning. It
amazed him that even in a horrible tragedy like this, there was still the
engineer trying to find the cause of the system failure. He then became angry with himself.
"Damn it!' Kallinan
cursed under his breath in the oxypak. Makar was more important! His
worst fears were confirmed as he saw the prone form of his superior. The smell of burned flesh and synthetic
fibers nearly overwhelmed him. Why
can't they make an oxypak that filters out those smells as well as the damned
smoke and toxic fumes? There was a
massive burned area centered on his chest. Much of his face was also damaged, but to a lesser degree. At least the stomach area where the
vermiform symbiont resided didn't look near as badly damaged as the chest
area. His reverie was broken when he
heard of soft moan and a weak cough from the injured Trill engineer. Fighting the rising tide of nausea, he
briefly checked to see if he could move his boss and friend. The last thing he wanted to do was add to
his already extensive injuries. With
his Herculean strength, he dragged Deenax back through the fifty smoke-filled
meters of the Jeffries tube.
Dr. Devlin was already there with an antigrav gurney. The miners then lifted Deenax and placed him
on the gurney. With heroic effort, Dr.
Devlin managed to stabilize Deenax, but knew the nature of his injuries were
well beyond the scope of his experience and capabilities. Especially in a primitive dump like this
with little more than bandage sprays and antibiotics. Red Star Mining owned the mine, and the Ferengi owned Red Star
Mining. Ferengi are not exactly the
most generous of employers. He
suspected Federation and local law mandated the safety features of the Jeffries
tubes and the presence of Dr. Devlin himself. Wiping massive beads of sweat off his forehead with a sponge, he tapped
his commbadge.
"Dr. Devlin to Sanchez" the doctor solemnly said into
his commbadge.
"Sanchez here. What
the hell is going on down there?"
"EPS rupture in Jeffries tube Two Delta" the doctor
replied, "Chief Engineer Deenax has third-degree plasma burns all over the
upper body. The symbiont seems to be
undamaged, but I wish I could say the same for the host. We don't have the facilities or the
technology for these kinds of injuries. Damn those cheap-assed Ferengi!" His language then degraded to an angrily muttered series of comments
about the Ferengi owners of Red Star Mining and speculation about a possible
ancestry with Terran canines and Regulan bloodworms.
"Prognosis?" Sanchez' churning stomach already knew what the answer would be.
"We need to get him to Starbase Thirteen as fast as we can or
we bury him. We may anyhow. He's pretty messed up. I'm giving him 40% odds, and that's being
extremely optimistic."
"You got it!" Sanchez then turned to his console and sent a priority alpha medical
emergency message to Starbase Thirteen. He then ordered Pazet to warm up the fastest shuttle (such as it is) and
get Deenax to Starbase Thirteen as fast as humanly and otherwise possible. One hour later, the shuttle Demon II was on
its way to Starbase Thirteen.
, , ,
I guess I had this coming to me, Ensign Jana Matheson silently
reflected as she stared out of the porthole of her cabin. Utopia Planitia was many light-years in her
wake as the USS Harry Benjamin sped its way to Starbase Thirteen. From there, she would be transferred to the
USS Serenity. The Karpov Psychiatric
Institute on Beta Brahe VII was her final destination. She saw her faint reflection in the plastic
window. Her fiery red hair seemed to be
a much more subdued shade. She could
even see the faint reflections of her emerald green eyes. She seemed to have lost some of the fire
there as well. Was she seeing herself
or a monster reflected? Ensign Matheson
sighed.
Jana Suzanne Matheson was born of a wealthy family in San
Francisco. She was 26 years old and
stood a trim 65kg on a 165cm frame. She
had become well known for her red hair and a fiery temper that went with
it. She was very intelligent, but also
impulsive and impetuous. She also
proved to be a gifted student. Five
years ago, she was accepted into Starfleet Academy.
The discipline of the Academy soon proved to be too much for
Jana's impulsive nature. She graduated
302nd out of a class of 429. Although
her performance was sufficient to graduate, many of her instructors felt she
was not performing to her potential. She also had some difficulty with the rigid discipline and chain of
command. Many of Matheson's critics
felt her family's immense wealth and political connections had a lot to do with
her admission into Starfleet Academy. Now the Academy seemed like another lifetime in another world.
She was all too aware of the fact that Karpov represented her last
hope to salvage her career in Starfleet. Ensign Matheson walked over to the replicator and ordered a raktajino. Get your small luxuries while you can. Even in the 24th century, hospital food is
still the favorite target of barbed commentary. Ensign Matheson wondered how a technologically advanced society
such as the Federation couldn't make a decent meal in a hospital? She was convinced that hospital meals were a
form of torture. She lifted her
raktajino and gazed at the stars streaming by the porthole through the steam. She took a sip of the potent Klingon
beverage. What she wouldn't do right
now for an old-fashioned American hamburger or some hasperat, not the usual
replicated stuff either. Hospital food
is bad, but jail food is barely edible. There were worse places Starfleet could have sent her for what she did
back in San Francisco. She also knew
all too well that her destination could have been the brig or even a penal
colony instead of the Karpov Institute.
, , ,
Lieutenant Matheson carefully straightened her uniform before
entering the Captain's office. She
still had enough pride left to look her best before being handed her head on a
platter. The Captain was not very
happy, and Lieutenant Matheson knew she was in disfavor for disciplinary
reasons. A few nights ago, she had
decided to have a night on the town in San Francisco. She wanted to get away from Utopia Planitia and her duty for a
few days. Instead of getting away from
her problems, she was standing here awaiting the Captain's discipline.
She decided to start her holiday by going to the Starway Lounge
just outside of the Academy. She had
been having a particularly rough time working with that insufferable idiot of a
doctor who just happened to be her boss. Dr. Zimmerman was very eccentric and seemed to go out of his way to
irritate Lieutenant Matheson. As the
night progressed, she progressively became intoxicated. She could feel her temper rising and a lot
of pent-up frustrations were straining at the reins, ready to break loose at
the slightest provocation.
The provocation came in at about 2300 in the form of a Tellarite
engineer from a cargo freighter in orbit above Earth. Lieutenant Matheson had a problem with the typical arrogance Tellarites
are famous for. This Tellarite, named
Hakash, seemed to be worst than most. She strongly suspected his abrasive demeanor would vanish in the face of
a Klingon or similarly aggressive species. Hakash then began making barbed remarks about Starfleet computer systems
and particularly the humans who designed and engineered them. Lieutenant Matheson took the remark
personally and rebuked the Tellarite.
Seeing trouble brewing, the bartender, a Ferengi named Pex, tried
to mollify both customers by offering each a free drink. Hakash responded to Pex's offer by slinging
his drink in Lieutenant Matheson's face and laughing. Lieutenant Matheson escalated the fight by shattering the
Tellarite's ample hog nose. Pex
immediately ran for cover and activated the commlink and hit the emergency call
button for the police. A melee soon
broke out and sent human and non-human alike scrambling for the nearest exit.
Ten minutes later, two San Francisco Police hovercars and four
riot-geared officers arrived on the scene. After obtaining riot phasers and anagas grenades, the four officers
entered the Starway Lounge behind Sergeant David Black Eagle.
"San Francisco Police! FREEZE!" barked Sergeant Black Eagle. Lieutenant Matheson replied with several colorful expressions,
backed up by tossing a bottle at the sergeant. Calmly, the sergeant ducked the glass missile. The shrill pitch of charging riot phasers filled the air. The sergeant set his weapon on wide burst
and immediately phasered both combatants into unconsciousness. Once Lieutenant Matheson and Hakash were
secured and safely contained in the police unit, Pex came out from his hiding
place waving a Ferengi PADD and protesting at the top of his lungs to Sergeant
Black Eagle about the damage done to his bar. Pex had a right to protest. The
damage done to the Starway Lounge was extensive to say the least.
Lieutenant Matheson woke up in a holding cell in the San Francisco
PD lockup. At least she knew she was
alive. She shook off the effects of the
phaser and tried to make sense of what happened last night. Damned riot phasers pack quite a wallop she
ruefully recalled. Things didn't get
much better when she noticed the two Starfleet officers and a police sergeant
on the other side of the force field. I'm in the shit now. She
recognized one of the Starfleet men. One was a young Asian male she recognized
was Ensign Harry Kim, the captain's golden boy. Her stomach tightened. The captain was anything but an idiot, and Ensign Kim's presence can
only mean one thing: Captain Janeway knows. Oddly enough, she was one of the few officers Lieutenant Matheson
genuinely respected in Starfleet, primarily because of her intelligence and
education. On the downside, she was
also well known for her adherence to regulations, and that part began to fill
her with dread. Angering someone like
Captain Janeway is just one of about a couple of thousand ways to trash a
career in Starfleet. Suddenly, her mind
flicked back to the present and she was back to the Captain's Office on
Voyager.
Lieutenant Matheson pressed the doorbell button on the Captain's
office. The door slid open with a low
hiss. As she expected, Captain Janeway
was sitting there and didn't look pleasant. Lieutenant Matheson took three steps into the office and snapped to
attention.
"Lieutenant Matheson reporting as ordered, Captain."
"At ease, Lieutenant. Please sit down, Lieutenant." Lieutenant Matheson sat in the chair the captain indicated. Captain Janeway's expression suddenly
changed from one of anger to one of disappointment.
"Lieutenant, I have been reviewing your record from both the
Academy and from your previous postings. You have a great deal of intelligence, and you are quite creative in
finding solutions to difficult problems. There is also the incident a few months ago when you saved the lives of
six crewmembers when the transporter's buffers suffered a cascade failure.
"Right now, your performance has been adequate with flashes
of real potential. Yes, I am very
disappointed that one of my officers had nearly destroyed a bar. However, you also willingly accepted the
financial responsibility to repair the damage done to the Starway Lounge. This works in your favor, since the owners
of the Starway Lounge have decided not to press charges. However, your conduct is anything but what
Starfleet expects from its officer corps. However, I also see an officer in you that can become one Starfleet
could become proud of if you seriously address the issues of your impulsiveness
and your temper."
"Captain, I realize I made a horrible mistake," she
began to say, but Captain Janeway cut her off with a wave of her hand.
"I could send you to the brig or even get you kicked out of
Starfleet. However, I do not see you as
a discipline problem as much as I see a person who needs counseling to solve
your internal problems. As a result, I
am transferring you into the Utopia Planitia Counseling Center for
evaluation. Pending their evaluation, I
will not throw you into the brig, but you are being reduced one step in rank to
Ensign, effective immediately. Dismissed!"
Jana Matheson couldn't believe what she heard. She got off lightly. Captain Janeway doesn't make idle
threats. Her thoughts were now in
turmoil. She was just handed probably
the only opportunity left to salvage her career. Janeway was right about one thing; my temper has gotten me in
more trouble than it was worth. She
also felt ashamed. She had disappointed
someone whom she had respected, and that hurt her. Despite the fact that Captain Janeway just cut her pay and sent
her to the counselor's office, she treated her as a caring mother to an errant
child rather than a vindictive captain. As a result, she felt a deep desire to restore the captain's faith in
her. A few days later, she was ordered
to Karpov Institute.
"Arrival at destination in 30 minutes." The computer announced. Ensign Matheson wished she had a drink, but
also realized that that was what got her in trouble in the first place. She sat down in the chair in her cabin and
sighed. In about a day from now, she
would be at Karpov.
, , ,
A heated debate began in the Demon II between Kallinan and Dr.
Devlin. Dr. Devlin ordered the shuttle
to dock with Starbase Thirteen despite the fact that it was concluded that the
Makar host body could be transported via transporter. Both Dr. Devlin and Dr. Kora Ol'yar, the Chief Medical Officer of
Starbase Thirteen advised against it. Arguing the situation with one doctor is difficult at best. When two doctors are involved, it is easier
to try to talk the Borg out of assimilating your species. With a disgusted snort, a fuming Lev
Kallinan sat down with a plop. Kallinan
was afraid that the time involved would be too long.
The Demon II docked at Portal Three. When the airlock was opened, Dr. Ol'yar was there with his nurse
with a gurney. Kallinan and Dr. Devlin
lifted their gurney and took the injured Trill engineer and lay him on Dr.
Ol'yar's gurney and the foursome ran at nearly breakneck pace to Starbase
Thirteen's infirmary. Three minutes
later, Pazet Deela arrived. The doctor
had already prepared the operating theatre in advance and the patient was
placed on the table. Two other
assistants stood ready and began to help prepare Deenax for emergency surgery.
One nurse herded the three miners out of the infirmary and engaged
the sterifield. Two crescent-shaped
slabs rose out of the table on opposite sides of Makar enclosing the upper part
of his body. Another device rose from
the head end of the table to rest near the patient's head and started glowing
with a faint light. Medical displays on
the OR walls activated giving the surgical team up-to-the-second information
about their patient. Dr. Ol'yar was not
encouraged by what he saw. I'll be
lucky if I can save this one.
"Two cc's of perzanol." Dr. Ol'yar crisply ordered as he began preparations for surgery. The shorter of the two nurses prepared a
hypospray and pressed the shiny nozzle against the neck of Deenax and injected
the drug.
, , ,
Ensign Matheson entered Starbase Thirteen's airlock in Docking
portal Six totally unaware of the life-and-death drama playing out on the
opposite side of the station. Upon
arrival, a young Andorian male still in cadet grays escorted her to her
temporary quarters. She would be here
overnight, then boarding the shuttle to Beta Brahe sometime around 1200
tomorrow. The Andorian fascinated
her. She had never seen one before. She loved the deep, sky-blue pigmentation of
his species. She smiled at the young
cadet as he left.
At least her room had a view. She could see the beautiful spectrum of colorful gasses and dust that
was the Mainstream Nebula. She loved
space, and wished she could have a small shuttle or maybe a runabout to go
explore the nebula. That can come
later, she reflected. Save your career
first! Suddenly feeling tired from the
long trip, she decided to call it a day. She removed her uniform and stepped into the sonic shower. Fifteen minutes later, she ordered up a
glass of apple juice from the replicator and then climbed into the bed. She was asleep in just five minutes.
, , ,
A shrill alarm began crying out its doleful tune. Deenax's condition was deteriorating
rapidly.
"Cortical stimulator!" Dr. Ol'yar ordered. Another
nurse slapped the device in his hand. Seeing it had little effect, the doctor pressed a button on the
operating field. The alarm ceased.
"320 milligrams of cordrazine!"
"Contraindicated, Doctor!" Rena Maona replied. "Trill symbionts are usually allergic to serazine-based medications." She ought to know, the doctor reflected,
she's a Trill herself and going through medical school.
"Thank you, nurse! 400 milligrams of bialoxin hydrate." The nurse loaded another hypospray and injected the drug. The alarm wailed again. The Makar body was dying. The damage was too great.
"Procedure change." The doctor ordered, "I need a stasis box for the symbiont. I hope that we can get a new host here
soon. How far away is the Trill
homeworld from here?"
"A week at best." Replied the Trill nurse. "The symbiont will not survive in stasis more than eighteen hours,
a day at the most. We need to find a
temporary host."
"Agreed." The
stasis box arrived and Dr. Ol'yar gently placed the symbiont in the padded box
with the tenderness usually reserved for newborns. Nurse Maona attached a monitoring line and engaged the stasis
field.
"Nurse Maona, go through the medical records here and see if
there are any compatible hosts here that can keep the symbiont alive until a
new host gets here. I will let you
handle that end of it, as well as the symbiont. This is something you need to learn anyway as a physician. Besides, you are probably the best expert
here when it comes to Trill symbionts. Nurse Teira, contact Captain Jaworski and I don't care if you ruin his
beauty sleep. See if he can get
Starfleet off its laurels and see how fast they can get a new host here. Tell him Priority One Medical request on my
authorization."
Dr. Ol'yar went to the chair in his office and began to pour
through the medical files of the people of Starbase Thirteen. Five minutes later, he fell asleep.
Nurse Maona entered the office the next morning and found the
doctor was still asleep. After briefly
checking the life signs of the symbiont, she woke the doctor. A gentle nudge woke the doctor and he woke
up with a jolt.
"Any results from your research?" Dr. Ol'yar asked.
"Not good, Doctor. There are only two medically compatible hosts here on Starbase
Thirteen. One is Lieutenant Derran
Kings of Earth; the other is Ensign Jana Matheson, also of Earth. Lieutenant Kings is stationed here on
Starbase Thirteen, Ensign Matheson is on her way to Beta Brahe."
"Order them both in here immediately."
Aye, aye, Doctor."
Dr. Ol'yar now had another difficult task. He had to inform the miners that the Makar
host was dead.
, , ,
The two-toned beep kept tugging at her sleepy brain. After a couple of minutes, a sleepy-eyed
Ensign Matheson saw that the terminal in her room had an incoming message
screen on. She ordered the computer to
play the message. The face on the
display screen showed an unfamiliar face. She also saw it was 0230.
"Ensign Matheson here," she groggily retorted, "I
was asleep!"
"My apologies, Ensign Matheson. This is Nurse Maona calling on behalf of Dr. Kora Ol'yar, the
Chief Medical Officer here on Starbase Thirteen. Please report to the infirmary immediately."
"Excuse me, but it's 0230...and I would like to get some
sleep before I leave."
"Ensign, that is an order. This is a life-or-death medical emergency and we need you."
"Ok already! Give me
a few minutes to get dressed."
"Be here at 0300. Infirmary out."
What kind of medical emergency could require me way out here? She ordered a raktajino from the replicator
and sipped the beverage. The powerful
jolt of Klingon caffeine began to wake her up from her semi-conscious
state. She quickly put on her uniform
and once satisfied with her appearance, she instructed the computer to give her
directions to the Infirmary. Ensign
Matheson could not figure for the life of her why this doctor needed her. She left her quarters and headed to the
other side of the starbase.
, , ,
"We have a huge
problem, Ensign." Dr. Ol'yar
stated. Ensign Matheson noted the weary
sadness in his eyes. The kind of weary
sadness grown from a lifetime of the responsibility of saving lives. Dr. Ol'yar had been fighting death and
disease for a long time, in fact, well over half a century. She wondered what kind of life-or-death
emergency required her.
"Why me?"
"Let me explain." The Doctor spoke, "Unknown to you, a medical emergency occurred on
K34 in the mining colony a couple of days ago. Their medical facilities are unable to deal with the injuries the chief
engineer suffered in an EPS conduit rupture. That's why he's here."
"Oh, I get it, I must have some rare blood factor or
something that can save his life." She said. "I would be happy
to..."
The doctor cut her off with a gesture. "Ensign, I wish it were that simple. The victim was a Trill. Unfortunately, the host body died during
emergency surgery. We managed save the
symbiont and it is currently in stasis, but will only be alive for about 16
more hours unless we get it into a new host. That means we need a temporary host, and there are only two medically
compatible people here on this starbase."
"Now wait just a damned minute here!" Ensign Matheson's eyes grew wide with
alarm. "Donating a small tissue
sample or blood is one thing, but putting an alien being inside my body is
something else entirely!" She
instinctively knew what he was asking.
"Be quiet a minute!" The doctor commanded. "The
problem I have is twofold; one is that the Trill homeworld is four days away at
maximum warp. Starfleet also has
informed me that the soonest they can get a suitable host here is three to four
days at maximum warp. The symbiont
obviously won't last long. That's where
you come in. You can keep the symbiont
alive in you for about four days before the joining becomes irreversible. A suitable host will be here by then."
"And the second problem is?"
"You are the only hope left for the Deenax
symbiont." The surgeon stated.
"You want to transplant the Trill symbiont in me on a
temporary basis then?" She
responded with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Doc, you better talk to the other candidate. In case you haven't heard, I am on my way to
Karpov Psychiatric Institute to get some circuits in my brain fixed."
"I did. His name was
Lieutenant Derran Kings, and he flatly refused."
Matheson laughed. "Maybe Starfleet ought to send you to Beta Brahe with me."
"Believe me, I would not consider you for this procedure if I
had access to another host candidate. I
don't have that luxury, and neither does Deenax. Unless you consent to the joining within the next few hours, we
will lose the Deenax symbiont as well."
Dr. Ol'yar then began to explain the procedure and risks to Ensign
Matheson. As the doctor talked, Ensign
Matheson noticed the three miners just outside the doctor's office. They must be friends of the Trill. The three looked exhausted and battle-weary,
especially the Bajoran woman. Do they
know their friend is dead? Do they even
know what I am doing in here? They look
awfully confused. They probably
wondered what Lieutenant Kings was doing here as well.
"What if I refuse?"
"I will ask Lieutenant Kings again, but I doubt he will
change his mind. He cited religious
reasons for his refusal. He firmly
believes his faith will not allow such a joining. Like it or not, it is his right under Federation law. In all probability, Deenax would die unless
you consent. Please also remember
Ensign, this only temporary. When the
new host gets here, I will remove the symbiont from you and transplant it into
the new host."
"Okay, you win. What
about Karpov and my orders Doctor? Their shuttle will be here at 1200"
"Let me take care of Karpov and Starfleet. It's amazing what a Priority One Medical
emergency can do to streamline Starfleet bureaucracy." he replied with a
wicked grin. "Go back and get some
rest. You will need it and so will I.
be here at 1100."
Jana Matheson walked back to her temporary quarters in total
amazement at the recent turn of events. She wondered how she was somehow making a habit of always being at the
wrong place at the wrong time.
, , ,
Ensign Matheson stood at the anteroom to the infirmary at 1100 as
ordered. She was very uneasy about this
procedure, yet something inside her compelled her to accept the symbiont to
save its life. Jana discovered that she
didn't have what it would take to tell Dr. Ol'yar that she refused
consent. Though the thought of having
an alien mind, let alone the symbiont itself in her body frightened her, she
just could not say 'no' to someone in need. Isn't saving lives one of the reasons Starfleet existed? Dr. Ol'yar and another his Trill nurse came
into the infirmary. Jana couldn't help
but notice the whole scene was like some surreal dream, but only in real life.
"Please come with me, Ensign Matheson," the nurse said
as she took her nervous patient into the operating theatre. She saw Dr. Ol'yar was at the ready to begin
the procedure. I can't believe that
this is happening. Yet, something
compels me. It's like a voice inside me
says 'this is a good and noble thing you do' and don't worry. Her mind seemed to be a spectator to this,
and there was a strange sense of detachment, like looking at a holovid in the
LCARS. She continued to see her world
from this strange perspective as she was laid down on the table and
prepped. She saw the sterifield slabs
rising from the table. She then felt
cold metal on the right side of her neck followed by a brief hiss.
She woke up feeling totally different now. Deenax is here inside with me. I hear him. Correction: her. I am now a
woman. It was interesting to still feel
her femininity, but there were also the male experiences of Deenax. It feels so weird; yet, I have to admit I
enjoy a sense of calmness and purpose I have never felt before in my life. She began to explore the memories of
Makar. Some of the memories were
painful. She also felt Deenax's love
for a Bajoran woman named Pazet Deela. Deela would be destroyed to see me in a female body.
"Ensign Deenax. Wake
up." A slurred voice was reaching
through the fog of the anaesthetic. Deenax? Her mind began to
realize what was going on. Her eyes finally began to focus and saw the faces of
the doctor and the nurse. She also saw the miners. There are my friends Lev and
Dr. Devlin.
Pazet stepped out from behind Dr. Ol'yar. Jana gasped.
"Deela...!" she began to say, but she stopped when she heard her
female voice saying the words. Pazet
backed away from her.
"Deela!" A tear
fell from Jana's eye.
, , ,
Dr. Ol'yar was making his mid-shift rounds when his commbadge
beeped.
"Dr. Ol'yar, you have a priority message in your
office." Nurse Teira said. He went into his office and ordered on the
LCARS to open the message.
"Please state your name and authorization"
"Kora Ol'yar, authorization eight six sigma one." The Federation crest disappeared from the
screen and the face of Captain Jaworski appeared on the screen.
"We have a problem, doctor. Your shipment is delayed."
"Delayed?" Dr.
Ol'yar exploded into the comm. "We need to get that new host here
yesterday! The temporary host is
unsuitable for a permanent joining."
"I'm sorry Doctor, but it's those damned Orion pirates,"
reported the gray-haired visage of Captain Jaworski, "They attacked and
disabled the long-range shuttle with the host. They stole the medical supplies we were sending to Starbase 13. They were without engines for about a
day. They are heading here at maximum
warp."
"Do you know that temporary host is on her way to Beta
Brahe? I need that host here in 48
hours.
"I'm sorry doctor, but the new host will only be a day late,"
replied Captain Jaworski.
"Computer: end message."
, , ,
Ensign Deenax nearly exploded. This was not the kind of thing she expected. She then calmed down and began crying. Nurse Teira came in with her evening meal. I feel so betrayed, and so trapped. She was now seriously questioning her
wisdom. Calm down, the voice of Makar
said gently. We will get through this. After nearly devouring her meal, she went
back to sleep.
Dr. Ol'yar came back in the next day and informed Jana that the
replacement host will arrive tomorrow, leaving a window of 24 hours to remove
and transplant the symbiont into the new host. Dr. Ol'yar was not expecting her reply.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Ol'yar, but we must respectfully decline
consent. We wish to remain
joined," Jana Deenax said with the conviction that left Dr. Ol'yar
open-mouthed and aghast.
, , ,
A defeated Dr. Ol'yar sat at his desk. He spent the last two days trying to convince them (is it 'them'
or 'her' now?) that to remain joined for another twenty-four hours, the joining
becomes irreversible. Nurse Teira had
never seen him looking so sad and exhausted.
"Computer, access Chief Medical Officer log, Dr. Kora Ol'yar
authorization phi seven one beta. Record entry. Stardate
39981.2-Ensign Jana Matheson voluntarily accepted to be a temporary host for
the Deenax symbiont when the critically injured Makar host body begins to fail
on 39978.6. Although a suitable host
candidate from the Trill homeworld would arrive tonight, the Deenax symbiont
declined to be removed. Lt. Derran
Kings of Earth, the only other medically (and certainly more psychologically
suitable) candidate for the Deenax symbiont than Ensign Matheson was available,
he flatly refused to be joined, even for a temporary period.
"I am deeply concerned about this particular joining. I do not think a host that is on her way to
the Karpov Institute is a suitable candidate for Deenax. However, both the Deenax symbiont and Ensign
Matheson refuse consent to allow the Deenax symbiont to be transplanted, even
though there is no danger at this stage to either if the symbiont is
transplanted into another host.
I know I could file a protest of this joining, but it is
pointless. Federation and Trill law
specifically outlaw nonconsensual surgery. Time is already against me. The
two have been joined now for almost three full days now. Unless they consent within the next 20-24
hours, the joining will become irreversible.
"Dr. Kora Ol'yar, Chief Medical Officer, Starbase 13. End recording and store."


