"Without going into unnecessary detail, Captain, I am from an alternate reality. The things I know are of events that have occurred in the past of that universe, but may not occur in this future. I was asked by a member of a certain ... meddling race to appear here in 'hopes of righting certain wrongs'." The girl, currently known as Elizabeth, smiled imperceptibly at her last thought.
"I don't understand." The captain's eyes narrowed, studying the girl in her mysterious Vulcan robes, "what race is this? And what have you come to correct?"
"The man who sent me is from a placed called the Continuum. Other than that, I cannot tell you much; he will make his presence known when it becomes of significance. He has sent me, in short, to prevent the introduction of a dangerous species which will appear in approximately eight months. It is important that we defy this risk, for they will enslave much of the human race, as well as many other worlds that are vulnerable or not."
Trip was no longer listening to the girl. "And you said yer name was Elizabeth?" he suddenly interrupted her.
She gazed at him, her features growing visibly softer. "Yes." she whispered, voice catching in her throat.
Trip was overcome suddenly with grief of Elizabeth's death still so fresh, feelings he had just been able to cope with were brought to life once more. In desperation, he searched the room, and looked to T'Pol. She too felt the same anger and remorse, through she was doing her best to suppress the emotions.
Instead, he lashed out at the girl. "Why!" he screamed, lunging out of his seat, "Why would ya do such a horrible thing; to stain her memory like this. Elizabeth is dead, don't 'cha hear me, dead!"
The girl watched the man frozen in place, openly bawling, and she considered for a full moment. The two did not move, staring intently at each other, until a single tear slipped from the girl's otherwise emotionless face.
"Sit down, Commander." she said softly, "It would help if I clarified that I do not claim to the same Elizabeth that you lost, but we have been granted the same name, for my aunt, and T'Mir in memoriam of my third foremother." She perched lightly on the table between Trip and T'Pol. "Your Elizabeth's life and my own separated only hours after she was brought aboard. In my reality, I was then thrown into a crash stasis chamber. There I remained for nearly four months while Dr. Phlox constructed a cure for my genomic incompatibilities.
"In your world, the doctor avoided the rash decision of stasis and my counterpart, whom, I can see clearly, that you loved, passed on.
"For the first week of my life after coming out of the chamber, I thrived. But, while you stayed on Earth for delegations, the Enterprise I was aboard travelled away. We were deep in Tholian space. Once again, the paths of our two ships crossed, and as things happen differently, my mother was trapped in Engineering when the core breached in battle against the Romulans." She looked directly at T'Pol who she noted was struggling to suppress a cacophony of emotion.
"The ship was nearly destroyed and we were adrift for several weeks. Captain Archer learned the full extent of the Romulan threat, but was powerless to stop it in his crippled ship. Columbia was able to drag us back to Jupiter station, but it took over a year to repair the damage once we returned.
"I was raised well by my father who made every sacrifice one could expect, and then many more. However, a Vulcan child needs mental training and companionship which Papa was incapable of, try as he might. It was then that he made the sacrifice for which I both felt love and hatred: he left me with Kov, who at that time was living in San Francisco, so that I may have mental training but not be suppressed emotionally. Enterprise departed as a final stand against the Romulan Empire. On the day he left , with tears in his eyes as you see Commander Tucker now, he told me he would 'be back real soon'.
"Once again, Enterprise engaged in a battle, one that should not have happened, and will not if we are successful in the next several months. As you may guess, for the alternate crew, the battle was not a success. So, on my second birthday, my father died as well. There are hull fragments, and some saucer sections on display in the San Francisco museum of Flight, but that was all that remained of the Enterprise.
"This ended the exploration of space as you know it. And that, in turn, made us targets for every warp capable species, allowing invasions and undetected events like the arrival of the – well, let's pray that doesn't become important.
"Despite the danger, I was well raised by Kov. Anti-alien sentiments grew to unprecedented levels on Earth, and we were forced to return to Vulcan. As you know, he is not well admired on Vulcan, and it came to be a danger for me to live with him, and further when the Vulcan's began their anti-human crusades. For the last six years of my life, I have made my home deep within the caves of the Northern desert.
"I was approached by a member of the Continuum, and that is how I came to be here. Your doctor's report can confirm most of this – at least, you know my DNA speaks to who I am, and that is hard to change. He can also show that I am missing my liver, surgically removed so that he could perform his testing. He can verify my nutrition intake and the particle remnants of my environment.
"I pose no threat to your crew. As a show of good faith, I will allow your tactical officer to escort me to the Brig. I only ask that you review the doctor's report. If you are still not convinced, I invite you to look for a message, Commander Tucker, in my shuttle, one saved from the NX-01 that was destroyed, in a place you had always deemed safe for a message of secrecy.
"Oh, and when you refer to me in your upcoming discussion, I am called T'Mir, by custom."
"Well, what do you think?" The captain eyed the two commanders carefully. The general consensus in the room, after Phlox gave a little speech and showed them some medical files, was that the girl, T'Mir, was who she claimed to be. The two who disagreed were the two for whom it was most important.
"If what she's sayin' is true, she's talking about nuclear quantum physics, and we disproved that over a decade ago." Trip was pacing the floor.
T'Pol remained seated with a look of Vulcan complacency that betrayed her own anger with the situation. "I agree that her story is most illogical."
"I think we all do." nodded the captain, a reluctantly supportive smile on his face, "What are our other explanations."
"Could she be a clone we didn't know about." offered Hoshi.
"It is possible, but we would typically see much more genetic variation between the two, simply because of the cloning process. Nor could she be a genetically altered agent for the same reasons." countered Phlox, "Not to mention that there are a number of forensic factors which tie her to the deserts on Vulcan."
"It is also unlikely that there would be such an age difference." nodded T'Pol
"I'm not sayin' she's some kind a clone. She's an agent who is tryin' to infiltrate us, and she's stainin' Elizabeth's memory to do so."
"I would agree, Commander, but she has no tactical vantage. From what we've seen, her intention is the safety of the crew. And her method has impressive results." Malcolm said.
"What'ch're sayin' is she's a good guy."
"I am saying that I have no reason to assume otherwise."
"She's claimin' to be our dead daughter, Malcolm! That just ain't right."
"Commander Tucker," T'Pol's firm voice of reason stopped him, "perhaps it would be advantageous to check the shuttle as she suggested. It may 'shed some light' on the situation."
Captain Archer stepped out of the turbolift onto the Bridge, rubbing his temples after his harrying call from Admiral Greene He quickly waved down Lieutenant Reed before he could stand to observe the 'Captain on the Bridge' protocol – one of the remaining nuisances the dedicated officer never let go of. Archer didn't know why, all the other rules had gone to hell: biology, physics, time, a linear chain of command, and all within three hours. He collapsed in his chair, convinced Trip could make it more comfortable still. "Travis!" he called, "Set a course for Earth, we've been recalled. Warp 5, that oughtta keep the engineers on their toes."
"Aye, sir."
"Engage." he muttered, "Let's get out of here before anything else happens today."
Dr. Phlox had been summoned to the Brig. The prisoner, T'Mir, had not been well, but his mind still reeled over that morning's discussion. His findings made her identity clear to him, but then that was biology, the physics of it just didn't make sense at all.
"Doctor," the security guard on duty beckoned him to move faster, "she's gone into convulsions, I don't know why."
The doctor rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks. She was curled up in a tight foetal position, shaking violently and gasping for breath.
"Call the medics," Phlox ordered the guard, "she needs to get to sickbay."
He quickly opened the door and rushed to the girl, hypospray already in hand.
As he touched her, her eyes suddenly flashed open, and they stared at each other, panic freezing them.
From her seized hand, she passed off a small, crumpled piece of paper. Then, her eyes shut and her convulsions became a seizure, and the Doctor injected her, watching her relax immediately.
Trip walked into the landing bay armed with a hypospanner and plasma torch. He stopped momentarily, taking in the double vision of Shuttlepod 1 and Shuttlepod 1. Admittedly, one was a little more scratched and bruised than the other – and this was the Enterprise's own shuttle from their current time. He took an educated guess at which pod he should investigate and lifted the hatch.
He had a fair idea of where he was looking, a concept that had occurred to him on many of his missions gone awry in the pod. He launched himself under the piloting panels at the prow of the shuttle and twisted around, feeling with his hands for what he feared was behind that bulkhead panel.
The girl woke on the biobed in sickbay. Dr. Phlox was watching her with great curiosity. "Are you feeling better?"
"Much, thank you. I presume you followed your instructions."
The doctor held up the crumpled piece of paper. "It is in my handwriting."
"You wrote it," she nodded, "or at least your counterpart did."
"You are dying." he said sadly.
"I have been dying since I was born. You and I both know my genome is unstable. An anti-viral agent detects non-Vulcan DNA and destroys it. The doses you administer allow my human DNA, which makes up half of me, to cheat death.
"I had intended to speak to you before it became critical, but the atmosphere onboard has unexpectedly increased the rate of destruction, and I was unconscious for longer than I had anticipated."
"Will you require further treatment?"
"One dose every week should suffice."
"I presume anxiety has also played a role. Perhaps we should see how this progresses."
"Indeed."
"You know, we are all confused as to your origin." he smiled sadly, "I, however, find no reason to not believe your story."
"It is agreeable that you feel that way. Of course, the pivotal point will rest with Commander Tucker."
"He is certainly violently opposed to it, but this brings up many memories for him."
"And I am aware of how stubborn he can be, or at least my own father was."
"You do not believe your father and Commander Tucker to be the same person?"
"It is a difficult line to draw. There are certain characteristics that are the same, but circumstance has changed many others. Logically, he is the same man who donated my human genome, and he has no more or less connection to me than my own father did when he first discovered me. However, a grown child is much more difficult to accept than an infant, particularly one who has already recognized another parent."
"I see." Phlox said suggestively, pulling his psychiatrist's hat off a not-so-dusty proverbial shelf, "What if –."
Suddenly, the sound of the Sick Bay doors opening disrupted them. A panicked, wild-eyed Trip burst through them. "What the hell are you trying to pull?" he shouted. He held up a piece of ragged metal, waving it in the air in explanation.
The girl eyed it for a moment. "Ah." she said calmly, turning to Dr. Phlox, "Not quite the reaction I was expecting."
Phlox chuckled, and turned to the raving Engineer. "Now, Commander Tucker. Let's all calm down and think about this rationally." He still smiled, walking towards the commander with a hypospray of sedative, arms up, eyeing the swinging piece of fuselage.
Then Trip saw him, and swung, knocking the Doctor back.
In a flash, T'Mir jumped up, and grabbed his shoulder swiftly and proficiently, holding him as he fell, unconscious, to the floor.
She helped the doctor to a bed before picking up Trip and leaving him too on a biobed. The fuselage remained on the floor. Gingerly, she picked it up, "I didn't expect him to rip it out with his bare hands." she mused.
"Sometimes people do things we would never expect, particularly when they're emotional. Now, I wonder if you would hand me that medical scanner, so that I can begin treating this nasty affliction."
"Oh, Doctor, I'm sorry. Allow me to help you." And then, to his amazement, she set the fuselage across Trip's chest and began to heal his minor injuries with practised ease.
"May I ask what is so special about that portion of the hull?" Phlox inquired after a moment.
"It says, 'Elizabeth sa'mekh loves, Trip ko-fu loves'. The words in Vulcan are words of high affection, father and daughter respectively."
"I suppose I can see why he was so furious."
"I find it most illogical."
"Not really," returned Phlox, "He watched you die, we all did. There was a funeral, and a Vulcan burial ritual. He's had dozens of delegates from many different worlds offer their personal condolences. He still has difficultly sleeping at night, this has changed him, his fundamental personality. To him you are dead, thus you cannot be alive, so you must be someone else. The rest is a conglomeration of human emotions."
"I suppose I was too hopeful in coming here, at least they had told me not to be."
"Who?"
"It's not important now. But I must speak to the Captain. I will wake Comm. Tucker, if you will watch over him."
"I'll even try to talk some sense into him."
"That is agreeable." T'Mir reversed the nerve pinch and quickly ducked out of the room.
"Wakey, wakey, Commander." Phlox called across the room.
Trip woke with a headache and extremely stiff neck. "What the hell just happened?"
"It appears T'Mir is very skilled in Vulcan arts. You see, while you swung that scrap of metal at my head, leaving these lovely bruises, might I add, she incapacitated you, thank goodness."
"I'm sorry, Doc, I just ..."
"Quite alright, quite alright, Commander, I understand perfectly well just how frustrating this is."
"It's just – did you see this?"
"She translated for me, yes."
"It's just, it's in my handwritin', Doc, in a special place ... I don't know how she knew."
"Perhaps you and she were quite close at one point." Phlox suggested.
"Well no, it proves she's lyin', 'cause she said she was two when I died."
"You know, Vulcan children mature much more quickly than human children. She was probably the equivalent of three or four when you died, mentally at least."
Trip didn't answer, just examined the etchings he held in his hands.
"At the least she's far less dangerous than you have been. Perhaps you should talk to T'Pol about this." the Denobulan hinted, knowing the two close comrades would need each other now more than ever.