Riker hadn't seen Doctor Miranda Pauli in nearly three years. Not since that Christmas party that neither of them would ever forget. He had tried to hook up with her every time he had been in system, but she had always been busy with work – something to do with Starfleet, was as much as she would tell him, and he knew better than to try fishing for information when the Federation's new primary military force was involved.
It seemed the last three years had been about five times as long for Miranda. It was hard to define exactly how she looked so old. Maybe it was the odd thread of grey in her otherwise black hair, or the worried hunch that she had developed, or the worn, brown, unfashionable clothes that the stylish Miranda he knew would never have worn. Maybe it was the air of fevered worry, of a collection of troubles that should have taken decades to accumulate.
Riker ran out to meet her, taking her heavy case from her. She hugged him, crying into his shoulder. It took a moment for her to compose herself. She stood up straight, sniffed, and breathed, "It's good to see you, Lance."
"Miranda. What's happened? Are you all right?"
"I need to get away. I can't tell you. Just…just get us away?"
"Us?"
A little girl appeared behind Miranda, as though on cue. She was small, and couldn't have been more than eight; she wore a simple blue dress, and her long blond hair tied back with a blue ribbon. Her eyes were cobalt and frighteningly intense. She stared at him, reactionless, and Riker thought that she might be autistic; she didn't seem aware of him.
Miranda held out a hand. Wordlessly, the girl came forward and took the woman's hand.
"This is Susan."
Was she Miranda's daughter? Riker looked, but he honestly couldn't see anything of her in Susan. Maybe the girl had inherited mostly from her father. But no…Susan was at least eight, he had seen Miranda three years ago, and he had been…so where the hell had Susan come from?
"Hello, Captain Riker."
Was that a child's voice? So measured and patient and intelligent? Where was the chirpy innocence? She sounded so cold, almost Vulcan.
Miranda grabbed his hand before he could worry for too long. "Lance. Can you get us away? Can you?"
"Where?"
"Anywhere!"
She was really desperate. What had happened to her? He knew this wasn't the time to ask. Susan's absolute calmness was a spooky counterpoint to Miranda's agitation. "Get aboard."
Miranda hurried through the hatch, pulling Susan along behind her. Still the girl seemed unperturbed, as though whatever world Miranda's fear resided in, it wasn't hers.