Author's note: The following story, as it involves time travel, takes place in two different time periods. The 'present' of this story takes place about five years after Star Trek: Nemesis. The 'past' of this story takes place about two years after the conclusion of the Dominion War and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. This puts it during the final season of Star Trek: Voyager.

This story mostly features characters from my previous stories. In that way, it is more like my original Orion story, where my own characters dominate the story. The time travel plot also gives me a chance to explore some characters from my original story that I am otherwise unable to revisit. This story does feature Drs. Beverly Crusher and Julian Bashir.

That being said, I believe that this story resembles some of the classic Star Trek time travel dilemma and anomaly encounter stories; complete with more technobabble than I have typically used in my Star Trek stories. Therefore, I hope it will be appealing to all Star Trek fans.

Spoiler Alert: This story contains spoilers for the Star Trek Next Generation Era television series, but it is spoiler free for Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Lower Decks, and any other Star Trek films or series created after the real-life year 2021. It does contain major spoilers for my other stories. While I recommend reading my stories in order, you are of course free to read them in whatever order you wish.

Please enjoy.

Star Trek: Orion V

Temporal Prime Directive

Time: yet another frontier? Over the course of its exploration Starfleet has encounter numerous temporal phenomena. From these experiences and out of concern for preserving the timeline, Starfleet has developed its Temporal Displacement Policy, sometimes referred to as the Temporal Prime Directive.

This is an adventure of the starship the Orion…and of the Orion-A. The common thread is Starfleet Officer Lindsey Lander, who is faced with a decision: Does she warn her beloved captain of the past of her grim future, or does she hide her future knowledge to uphold the timeline and the Temporal Prime Directive?

Prologue

Captain's log; stardate 54733.6: It has been almost two years since the Battle of Cardassia and the end of the Dominion War, and things are still not back to normal, if they ever will be. With the loss of so many starships, Starfleet has given the Orion another one-year extension on its mission. Some say that the old bird should be retired. I for one believe the Orion has a few more years left in her.

Currently we have just completed a visit to Betazed in which we resupplied our starship and dropped off materials for the ongoing repairs from the damage the Betazoids receive during the Dominion occupation of their world.

Captain Theresa Taylor sat in her ready room as the Orion continued towards its destination at warp 4. She was reading reports from Engineering on the warp core's performance when her first officer, Commander Luis Gonzalez, entered.

"Commander, is there something I can do for you?" asked Taylor.

"Nothing much, Captain," said the human officer. "I was just wondering if you knew anymore about our mission extension."

"You know I don't," said Taylor.

"But you have ideas of your own," said Cmdr. Gonzalez with a smile.

Capt. Taylor returned the smile. "I do have a few ideas. I would be surprised if we left Federation space. The Orion may be filling the gaps in Starfleet, but I don't expect them to send us on any exploratory missions. We will learn more from Admiral Chrysler once we reach starbase."

Taylor gave her first officer a thoughtful look over. Luis Gonzalez had a mixed ancestry from various regions of Central America, the isthmus between the two large continents of Earth's Western Hemisphere. Taylor herself could track a good portion of her ancestry to the native peoples of North America, intermixed with settlers from Europe. Gonzalez had a darker skin tone than Taylor, but the two of them shared similar jet-black hair.

Or rather they used to share jet-black hair. Taylor's hair now almost half grey. At one time Taylor had colored her hair, but now she had accepted and embraced her age. She liked the way the black and grey intermixed in her braid which dropped down almost to the small of her back. Even though Taylor had breached her seventieth year, she still maintained a physically fit body. She had passed her yearly physical with flying colors, according to Dr. Thomas Randle.

Gonzalez was also beginning to show his age, but being only in his mid-forties, he was still a youngling in Taylor's eyes. However, there were streaks of grey revealing themselves in his sideburns and above his ears. Luis had served as Taylor's first officer since the end of the Dominion War. Taylor could foresee him becoming a captain himself in two or three years.

"Isn't Admiral Chrysler a classmate of yours?" asked Gonzalez.

"Yes," said Taylor.

"Are you going to have a mini class reunion? It's been forty years, correct?"

Taylor stared Gonzalez down. "Is there some hidden question that you wish to ask?"

Luis leaned back in his chair. He was very upright officer. His relaxed posture spoke a lot about how comfortable the captain and first officer had become in just two years working together. "Forty years is an impressive career. Chrysler is a vice-admiral."

"And I am a mere captain," said Taylor. "The admiralty may be in is my future, but I am not yet ready to give up the captain's chair. Why you ask? Do you have your sights on my chair?"

"Me? Captain of the Orion?" asked Gonzalez. "Oh no, I don't think so. Starfleet has been phasing out Ambassador class ships like this one for years. I expect this ship to be decommissioned when you finally get promoted."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," said Taylor.

"What do you mean?"

"I am trying to convince Starfleet to schedule the Orion for a refit. The Ambassador class ships were once the workhorses of Starfleet before the Galaxy and Sovereign classes took over. With a computer and warp core upgrade, this ship could serve Starfleet another ten or fifteen years."

"Are you serious?" asked Gonzalez.

"Yes. And I have a few ears in Starfleet Command who are listening." The door chimed. "Enter," responded Taylor.

The door slid open to reveal a young twenty-five year old human female. She wore the standard shipboard yellow Starfleet uniform. The Orion had yet to adapt to the newer uniforms of black jackets with grey shoulders. On her collar was one solid gold pip and one hollow pip, indicating her rank as a lieutenant junior grade. Her blond hair was perfectly arranged in an academy style bun. "I have the reports you requested, Captain."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Lander." Capt. Taylor smiled inside herself. She was immensely proud of Lieutenant Lindsey Lander. When the young human woman had joined the Orion after her Academy graduation, she had been reckless, lazy, and bordering on insubordinate at times. And her rollercoaster of relationships with male members of the crew was leading her down a bad path. Taylor had been hard on her. She had delivered a few ultimatums to Miss. Lander and demanded her to behave like a better officer. And Lindsey had answered all those demands. Now, Capt. Taylor considered her to be one of the best junior officers on the ship. "Lieutenant, report to the bridge and take operations."

"Yes, Captain." Lander turned around and left the ready room.

Gonzalez watched her leave. He then turned back to Taylor. "You still proud of your protégé?"

"Yes, I am," said Taylor defensively. "Miss. Lander has come a long way from her…rough beginning."

"I can't imagine an officer starting out worse. Her improvement is beyond impressive," said Gonzalez. "Lucky for her you gave her a lot of personal attention."

"I'm sure that she didn't always appreciate the attention I gave her," said Taylor. "Lander is one that needs to be pushed, but I can only push her so far."

"What do you mean?" asked Luis.

"I believe that Lander is the type that will rise to the occasion. She has overcome a lot of her personal limitations, but she still has one major limitation."

"And that is?"

Taylor answered, "She doesn't believe in herself. She spent her time in the Academy, barely getting a C average. Then she comes on board the Orion and finds herself on the bad side of its captain. She has become so used to being a near failure that she cannot see her own success or the success that she is capable of. She needs to be pushed so that she can truly see her own potential."

"Pushed how?" asked Luis.

"By greater responsibility," said Taylor. "I have my eye on Lander for lieutenant senior grade."

"You would give her a higher rank just to push her? That's not how promotion works, Captain," replied Luis.

"I'm not going to promote her tomorrow," said Capt. Taylor. "But Starfleet needs officers now more than ever. With all the lives we've lost in the Dominion War we are stretched thin."

"Starfleet also needs captains," said Luis. "Should I be afraid that Lander will make it to the chair before I do?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Taylor. "She's not the only officer I've been pushing." Luis raised his eyebrows at that statement.

"Capt. Taylor and Cmdr. Gonzalez to the bridge," came Lander's voice over the comm.

"We can't be close to the starbase already," said Luis.

"Not at warp 4," agreed Taylor. "Let's go." Taylor walked out the door of her ready room and onto the bridge. As she did, she took in the view from her ready room door. She stood on the portside of the bridge. All around the perimeter of the bridge were various control consoles. In front of the viewscreen was the helm and navigation chairs. In the center was the captain's chair, flanked by two other command chairs and framed by a railing that divided the upper and lower bridge. Taylor walked with a commanding pace towards the chair. Luis took the seat to her right. This was Taylor's third command, but nothing ever changed the experience of lowing herself into the captain's chair. This was her ship: the USS Orion NCC-26532.

Taylor shook the thought from her mind. "Report, Lieutenant."

Lander spoke from the operations station on the railing above Taylor. "We received a distress signal. It was on a Starfleet channel."

"Did the ship identify itself?"

"No, Ma'am. The signal was cut off almost as soon as it began," replied Lander. "We have pinpointed its origin, and sensors are picking up some kind of spatial anomaly."

"I was not told of any anomalies on our current route," said Taylor.

"This one was not on any of the charts," said the navigator.

"It's like it just appeared," added Lander.

"Well, if there is a Federation ship in distress, then that is our priority. Lay in course to the anomaly and increase speed to warp 7. Go to yellow alert. And let Betazed know of our status."

A chorus of 'Yes Ma'am's answered her, and the Orion turned gently to starboard. The slight vibrations Taylor could feel from the warp core grew subtly more intense. In only a few minutes the helmsman called out. "We are approaching the anomaly."

"Drop to impulse and bring us in." Taylor watched as the streaking stars fixed themselves in place. Ahead Taylor could see the anomaly only by the way it distorted the stars. "Sensors, can we see anything inside it?"

"No, Captain," answered Lander. "Perhaps if we were closer."

"Helm, forward; one-quarter impulse." Taylor watched as the distortion field grew larger. It was like looking through a very clear stream, where the flowing water made it look like the stony riverbed was moving.

Lander took in a hiss that sounded painful. Luis also noticed. "Are you alright, Lieutenant?"

"I'm fine," replied the young woman, with some strain in her voice. "Sensors are picking up sometime inside the anomaly."

"Is it a ship?" asked Taylor.

"Not sure, Captain."

Taylor fixed her eyes on the anomaly when is suddenly changed. "What's happening?"

"The anomaly is changing in size and shape," said the navigator. "I think its reacting to our presence."

"Keep an eye on it," said Taylor. "I have no intention of endangering our ship or crew." Taylor leaned forward in her chair. Now she could see the shape of the anomaly. It almost looking like it was reaching out to her.

From behind her came the piercing cry of a woman in great pain. Taylor turned around and saw Lindsey Lander on the deck, holding her head and wailing in pain. "Lieutenant!" Taylor jumped from her chair and tried to run around the railing.

She got only halfway to Lander when she heard the navigator shout out. "The anomaly is expanding towards us!"

Knowing her duty as captain, Taylor stopped and issued orders. "Red alert! Raise shields! Impulse, full reverse! Back us away!"

The bridge crew reacted immediately. The red lights and warning sirens came on. Taylor managed to get up to Lander. "Lieutenant, can you hear me?" Lander had curled into a fetal position and was still holding her head. Taylor tried to roll her over, but she Lander's eyes rolling back into her head. Taylor tapped her commbadge. "Medical team to the bridge, STAT." Taylor back down at her officer. "Lieutenant, can you hear me? Can you hear me?"

"Lindsey, answer me. Lindsey!"

Chapter 1

Captain's log; stardate 61553.3: We are on a routine mission to Betazed, to pick up our new chief medical officer and let our crew stretch out their legs for a bit of shore leave on a Federation planet.

Lindsey rolled over in her bed to check the time. On the wall she had hung a pair of clocks, one an old 12-hour Earth style analog clock with glow in the dark hands, the other a universal Starfleet time piece. She had done so in order to avoid having to ask the computer what time it was out loud and receive the audio response. This way she could check the time without waking her bed partner.

"Nice try, but I can tell you're awake," said Lindsey's husband, Henry Hickensen. "What time it is?"

Lindsey let out a disappointed sigh. "It's only 0450." She turned back to the center of the bed and faced her husband. "Go back to sleep. I'll try not to wake you when 0530 comes round."

Henry smiled at her and was about to kiss her on the lips when the door to their bedroom open. Henry lifted his head slightly to peek over Lindsey's body to see the door. "Incoming contact; approaching the starboard bow."

"Is it friendly or hostile?" asked Lindsey.

"Unknown. It has increased its speed. Impact imminent!"

A small object landed on Lindsey's shoulder from behind, but she had been ready for it. Lindsey grabbed the object and tossed it into the space between her and Henry. The object then released a sound…a giggle.

"Daddy's got you," said Henry as he began to tickle torture the small child.

"Daddy, stop."

"If Daddy stops, Mommy's going to have to do it." Lindsey joined her husband as they tickled their two-year-old daughter, Theresa Hickensen. She squealed with uncontrollable laughter. After a while Lindsey and her husband stopped. Henry reached out and held Lindsey, with their daughter in between them, and the three of them lay there. Lindsey rested her head on her husband's shoulder and enjoyed the family moment.

"The time is 0530," said the automated computer voice.

Lindsey groaned. She must have fallen back to sleep for time to fly so quickly. "I don't want this to end."

"But it has to, Captain," said Henry in a formal voice. Despite being her husband, Cmdr. Henry Hickensen was Lindsey's subordinate. He was the chief tactical officer for the ship. And she, Lindsey Lander, was Captain of the ship: the Galaxy class USS Orion NCC-26532-A.

"Alight, you win, Commander," said Lindsey as she climbed out of bed.

"I'll get Theresa ready for daycare," said Henry.

"And I'll prepare some breakfast," replied Lindsey. Preparing breakfast meant ordering pancakes and syrup from the replicator. Chef Matthews, the mess-hall chief, would not approve, but Lindsey was no gourmet cook.

Little Theresa Hickensen ran out. "I wanted waffles," she said stubbornly.

"You have your pancakes. Now eat up," said Lindsey.

"If you eat that whole pancake, Daddy will take you down to the planet tomorrow," said Henry.

"Yay!" said Theresa as she dug into her food. Lindsey smiled as she watched the girl using her fork. She had gotten quite good at it.

That was how the morning went. Henry put on some civilian clothing. After Theresa had brushed her teeth, he took her to the ship's on-board school and day care facility. There were not many children on the Orion, but Lindsey was determined to make her ship into a family friendly environment.

Lindsey continued her morning routine which ended with the braiding her hair. She had two braids on each side of her head, starting near her forehead. These braids then merged with the rest of her hair and formed one long braid starting at the base of her skull and continuing down to her shoulder blades. It was her favorite hair style.

She was almost done when Henry came up behind her and kiss her on the neck. "I don't know if I like you better with your braids or when your hair is a mess."

"I don't do this for you," said Lindsey. Henry backed up as if he were hurt, but the expression on his face revealed his sarcasm. "I'm the captain, and I have to look the part."

"Yeah, the captain looks good on you, but I like it when you look the part of my wife."

"Maybe I will have to look that part when we get some shore leave on Betazed," said Lindsey mischievously.

"I'd like that," said Henry, giving her another kiss on the neck before backing out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. It was a silent agreement between them. Being simultaneously wife and husband, but also captain and subordinate, they had learned how to turn their romantic side on and off. But lately it seemed like it was more off than on.

"You know what I just heard Theresa say?" asked Henry from the bedroom, switching his tone from romantic husband to adoring parent.

"What?" asked Lindsey as she finished her braids.

"In the turbolift, she asked me if it had been properly calibrated."

"'Calibrated'? She said 'calibrated'?"

"Yep," said Henry. "Or more accurately she said, 'cal-li-bait-ed.'"

Lindsey laughed. "She's growing up too quickly."

"That she is," said Henry.

Then followed a period of silence. Lindsey looked over at her husband. She saw him staring at the ceiling in a thoughtful pause. "What is it?" she asked.

"I was just thinking," said Henry.

"Thinking about what?" Lindsey left the bathroom and approached her husband.

"That maybe since Theresa is growing older, it's about time to consider…"

"Consider what?"

Henry looked up at Lindsey. "Consider adding another member to the family."

Lindsey stared at Henry. "Are you serious?"

Henry seemed confused by Lindsey's reaction. "Yeah, I mean I would like to talk about it."

"You really think Theresa is old enough to be a big sister?" asked Lindsey.

"I don't think there is a minimum age for that role," said Henry. "Look, I don't expect to conceive tomorrow. Theresa just had her second birthday old three weeks ago. By the time any younger sibling would be born, she will probably be three. That seems like a good age gap to me."

"Seems pretty close together, if you ask me," replied Lindsey.

"How many years are between you and your sister?" asked Henry.

"Nine years," said Lindsey as she put the finishing touches to her hair and turned to face Henry.

"And how close are you to her?" Henry continued to ask.

"Close," answered Lindsey vaguely. "Laura and I are sisters. We talk on a regular basis."

"I don't remember you talking to her much during our time at the Academy."

Lindsey could see where Henry was going with this. "I reached out to her after the destruction of the old Orion. Having lost Capt. Taylor and so many friends, I wanted to rekindle the relationships I valued."

"How close were you and Laura growing up?"

"Henry, will you stop interrogating me?" said Lindsey annoyed. "She was a teenager when I was a child, and an adult when I was a teenager. Why are you asking this?"

Henry sat down on their bed. "You know that I'm an only child. I often wonder what it would be like if I had an older sister or a younger brother, someone to look up to or someone to look up to me. I see what you and your sister have. I want that for Theresa, and I want her to have a sibling to grow up with, not just to appreciate when she gets older."

Lindsey sat down next to Henry on the bed. "I want that for her too. I'm just not sure that now is the right time for us. My duties as captain take so much of my time, and your duties might increase if Frank decides to pursue his anthropology studies and you take his chief of security job."

"We knew that we would have to balance our work and family life. It will be challenging, and we will have to be smart about it, but it is possible."

Lindsey shook her head. "Last time I was pregnant I was on maternity leave for two months. I'm not sure it's fair to the Orion for its captain to take that kind of time off."

"The Orion was fine. You have trained your people well enough to function without you for a time," said Henry. "And I don't think that Ser'rek minded the time he had in the captain's chair. In fact, that little note on his résumé might have been a factor in Starfleet's decision to give him his own command."

Lindsey smiled at the thought of her first officer, the Andorian Ser'rek Thrim, becoming a captain. He had just found out two weeks ago. He was going to take command of a new Luna class starship that was currently being constructed at the Utopia Planitia Shipyards. Lindsey was happy for him, but now she faced the undesirable task of finding a new first officer.

"Maybe that did work out well for Ser'rek, but I still don't know if it is a good idea to have another child at this time."

"All I ask is that you think about it," said Henry. "Maybe we can talk about it later." Henry changed the topic. "Speaking of Ser'rek, don't you have an applicant for first officer coming in today?"

"He arrived yesterday," said Lindsey. "I welcomed him on board, but I meet with him today."

"What was his name again?"

"Lect Nixx."

"I don't recognize it. What ship did he serve on?"

"Several, the most recent being the Farragut."

"Have you gotten his captain's recommendation?"

"No, not yet," said Lindsey.

"Isn't that unusual?" asked Henry.

"Yes," answered Lindsey. "But apparently this was an opportune time for him to come and interview. I will have to observe him personally first, then look over his reports later."

"We'll find out if he's the one we want one way or the other," said Henry.

"He's not the one I want for a first officer," said Lindsey. "But you and I know that I can't get the officer I really want." Lindsey was referring to Henry himself. For the first two years of Lindsey's command of the Orion, Henry had been her first officer; but he had accepted a demotion in order to be her husband. Starfleet wasn't happy about their arrangement, but it was better than a wife and husband as captain and first officer.

Lindsey reached for her black and grey duty jacket. She pulled it over her red turtleneck command uniform. "Ugg. I hate these things."

"Why? What's wrong with them?" asked Henry.

"They seem too militaristic," said Lindsey as she adjusted the jacket.

"Why don't you switch the Orion to the alternative uniform used on the California class ships. You know the ones resemble the old shipboard uniforms with the black shoulders and the department color scheme below. I hear you can put them on like a jacket and don't have to pull them over your head."

"Hmm. I'll have to look into that," said Lindsey.

Lindsey paused for a bit and put her hand on the wall for balance. "Are you okay?" asked Henry. Lindsey took a few deliberate breaths. For a moment her vision had blurred.

"I'm fine. It's just a headache." Lindsey rubbed her forehead. These headaches were usually mild and went away after an hour or two.

"You know most people don't get headaches anymore," said Henry.

"Yeah well, most people haven't cracked their head on the deck floor of the bridge." Lindsey was referring the time she had taken command of the old Orion. They had been hunted by a rogue Romulan warbird. Lindsey had ordered the Orion to ram the enemy ship when her weapons systems were down. The result was a major concussion that required neural surgery to correct and mend.

"When we get our new doctor on board, I want you to get his opinion on that," said Henry.

"You're not my first officer anymore," said Lindsey. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"Not first officer, a concerned husband," retorted Henry. He held Lindsey gently by the shoulders. "I'm pretty good at the role of nagging husband as well."

"Alright, I will make an appointment with the new doctor. He will want an updated physical anyway." Lindsey brushed off Henry's arms. "Besides, I'm used to the headaches. Sometimes, I even welcome them. They remind me of Captain Taylor and all the others on the old Orion."

"There are other, less painful ways to remember those we've lost," said Henry.

"I know," said Lindsey. She stood up and made one more adjustment to her black and grey duty jacket. "Time's wasting. It wouldn't do for the Captain to be later for her shift. Will I see you for lunch?"

"Of course," said Henry. He kissed her on the check before Lindsey left their quarters and headed for the bridge.

Lt. Cmdr. T'Sel entered the science lab. The Vulcan science officer set to her work immediately. She had noted that most of the officers and scientists under her command had difficulty at the beginning of their duty shift. They needed a "warm up period" as Lt. Cmdr. O'Hara-Grant had called it. This T'Sel had come to accept.

But one officer was working with surprising energy. "Ens. Rikka, I believe your shift has ended."

"Yes, Commander," said the young Bajoran woman. "I am just gathering a bit more information on a personal project of mine before I leave."

"Personal project?"

"I'm not working on it during duty hours, I promise," replied the ensign. "And if I'm taking up too much of the science lab's resources, I can continue in my room."

T'Sel hovered over the woman. "You are researching the Q-continuum?"

"Not the Q in particular," said the woman. "During Starfleet's many explorations they have encountered entities that defy explanation. What I am most interested in is those who don't experience time and space in a linear fashion like we do."

"Such as the Bajoran Wormhole Aliens," suggested T'Sel.

"Precisely," replied Rikka. "I would be lying to you if I said my recent experience with the Prophets hasn't influenced my interest." T'Sel nodded. She was one of the few people on the Orion who knew the details of the experience Ens. Rikka Samae was referring to. While on mission to Deep Space Nine, the Bajoran woman was exposed to a lethal amount of thalaron radiation. She was medically dead for hours but made an instant miraculous recovery. She claimed to have met the Prophets, the aliens who lived in the Bajoran Wormhole, and that they restored her to life and to health. Although skeptical of the religious nature of the narrative, T'Sel had no other explanation for the ensign's recovery, so she tentatively accepted it.

"I am trying to broaden my research beyond the Prophets, I mean the Wormhole Aliens. I am hoping to maintain some objectivity in my study."

"Why the sudden interest?" asked T'Sel.

"I had a very intense religious experience," said Rikka. "But I've been trained as a scientist. I have to believe that if both science and religion point towards truth, then there has to be a correspondence between the two. I am trying to reconcile what I know by science with what I've been learning by religion."

"That is a daunting task that has been attempted by many cultures for centuries, millennia even," said T'Sel.

"Even by the Vulcans?" asked Rikka.

"Yes, in our history. Especially shortly after the death of Surak as Vulcans embraced logic but tried to reconcile their old ways with the new."

"Did they ever have any success?" asked Rikka.

"No, the Vulcan gods of old were creations of superstition and not founded in logic."

"But the Bajoran Prophets are real," said Rikka. "And I'm not the only one to have reported experiences of the Wormhole Aliens. I wish to learn more."

"Are you attempting to prove aspects of your religion true?" asked T'Sel.

"Not necessarily," said Rikka. "Some aspects of my religion are supposedly revealed by the Prophets, others are practices that have developed over time and tradition. Neither of these are the subject of my scientific inquiry. I am researching how non-linear creatures can interact with us who experience existence in linear time."

T'Sel shook her head. "Ensign, I doubt that you, as a linear being, can comprehend non-linear reality."

"I know. But I have found some historical precedent."

"Such as?" asked T'Sel.

"The Monotheistic Religions on Earth," answered Rikka. "They believed their god to be eternal, not existing in linear time. The Christian Religion claims their god became man in time, while maintaining his eternal nature. Not only that, but some of the larger sects of Christianity even believed that his human death, which happened in time, became present in their worship. The non-linear interacting with the linear."

"Has research in ancient Earth religions helped you in your scientific inquiry?" asked T'Sel with skepticism.

"Yes and no. What I've learned is more philosophical than scientific. By definition it is hard to observe and quantify non-linear beings. The best source on that was some of the logs and writings of the Emissary, I mean Capt. Benjamin Sisko, and his interactions with the Proph…the Wormhole Aliens." Rikka looked up at T'Sel. "What do you think of my inquiry?"

T'Sel paused. Was this a time for honesty or a time to avoid causing emotional discomfort? She chose to go with honesty, but she spoke softly. "I think it is an interesting question, but it will be very difficult for you to proceed in a scientific manner. I do not believe that it is a logical use of your free time, but it is your free time to use."

Ens. Rikka smiled. "Thank you for your honesty, Commander."

Lindsey reported to the bridge and then to her ready room. She worked on a few odd jobs for a bit and waited for her 0900 appointment. Indeed, he arrived at 0855.

"Welcome, Lt. Cmdr. Lect Nixx." Lindsey stood from her desk as she greeted the male Bolian Starfleet officer. "I'm glad to see that punctuality is among your qualities."

"Being on time is a high priority for me. And thank you for your welcome, Captain," said Cmdr. Nixx.

"Please take a seat," said Lindsey. Cmdr. Nixx sat across the captain's desk from Lindsey. "I have to admit that without a captain's recommendation, there is not much I can do for you today."

"I understand," said Cmdr. Nixx. "I have asked my captain for a recommendation, and he has assured me he will provide one. But the timing of my visit couldn't have been better. I feared that if I didn't meet with you now, I would be missing a great opportunity."

"Commander, my current first officer will still be on board the Orion for the next six weeks. I will be taking what time I can in my decision of whom I want to be his replacement." Lindsey pulled up Cmdr. Nixx' résumé. "Your current assignment is on the Farragut. It says here that you serve as its operations officer."

"Yes, that is correct. In that position I have gained much command experience. I was also for a time the Farragut's second officer."

"Why didn't you retain that title?"

"It was only temporary while my captain sought a new first officer. But it is the reason I am seeking transfer. I do not believe I can advance my career any further on the Farragut."

"You don't think you're jumping a bit too far into the command track?" asked Lindsey.

"No, Ma'am," replied Cmdr. Nixx. Lindsey was a bit impressed that Nixx had done his research on Lindsey. Starfleet protocol was to address a superior officer, either male or female, as Sir. But Cmdr. Nixx must have learned of Lindsey's preference for Ma'am. Nixx continued. "I believe I am ready for command. Perhaps not for the captaincy, but for a significant command role."

Lindsey leaned forward and spoke ominously. "A first officer must always be ready to be the captain. You never know what might happen to your captain. You could very well find yourself in a situation where the entire crew of this ship would depend on you and only you." Lindsey spoke from experience. She had to take command of the old Orion after Capt. Taylor's death. To say it was a challenge was an understatement. "Are you ready for that, Commander?"

"Is anyone prepared for that?" countered Nixx.

"No one should expect it, but a good first officer is always ready," said Lindsey. "If you, Commander, are truly applying for this job, then you must be ready. There has been no less than three times since I became the captain of the Orion that I have been unable to command this ship. One of those times there was a flag officer to take command, but the other two times my first officer had to step up."

"You were absent from your command three times?" asked Nixx.

"Once was simply maternity leave," said Lindsey.

"Oh," said Nixx. "Is that possible again?"

Lindsey hesitated before answering. How was it that she encountered this same topic twice in one day? "Whether or not I have additional children is a private matter, Commander."

"Sorry, Captain."

The rest of the interview went well. Lt. Cmdr. Lect Nixx neither impressed nor disappointed Lindsey. Which was odd. He certainly had no strikes against him. His record revealed an officer who consistently did his job well. But there were no outstanding marks. Lindsey wasn't sure that he was the right man for the job.

But Lindsey did not need to worry about it at the present moment. Right now, she was heading to the ship's school. Lindsey had brought on board a civilian teacher to run the school. That teacher insisted on all day school. But for children as young as Theresa, they were allowed to eat lunch with their parents.

Lindsey arrived at the school center to find that Henry had arrived before her. He was dressed in his uniform. The yellow color scheme befitting his role as tactical officer could be seen on the sleaves of his jacket and on the turtleneck undershirt. His three gold pips on his collar indicated his rank of Commander. Henry and Ser'rek Thrim were the only full rank commanders on the Orion.

"Mommy!" shouted Theresa as she ran to Lindsey's arms. Lindsey dropped down to her knees and hugged the little girl. The hug was brief. Soon Theresa was clinging to Henry's leg. She was a daddy's girl.

"Time for lunch," said Henry. The three of them walked down to the mess hall. Theresa walked between her parents, holding hands with both of them.

They arrived at the mess hall and picked a table. "What will it be today?" asked the mess hall chef, Richard Matthews. He was a tall, broad shouldered human male. Once a security officer during the Dominion War, now Richard Matthews took joy in serving food to the crew and guests of the Orion. He had earned the affectionate nickname Chef.

"Mac 'n' cheese!" shouted Theresa.

Chef looked at Lindsey for approval. "I guess it's mac 'n' cheese for Theresa," said Lindsey. "With a side of streamed broccoli."

"Ohhhhhh," groaned Theresa.

"And for you, Captain."

"A Vulcan salad and lintel soup."

"Commander?"

"I'll take the salad as well, but with ham and bean soup," said Henry.

"Right away," said Chef. He gave a courteous nod and walked away.

"Ham and bean soup?" asked Lindsey. "Isn't it pointless to order meat with a Vulcan vegetarian dish?"

"First of all," countered Henry. "Just because I ordered a Vulcan salad doesn't mean I intend on having a vegetarian meal. Secondly, the ham is replicated and therefore is not real meat. Unless you've finally allowed Chef to keep live animals on board."

"No, I have not," answered Lindsey.

Just as Chef came back with their food, a call came over both Lindsey's and Henry's commbadges. "Capt. Lander and Cmdr. Hickensen to the bridge," came Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson's voice.

"What is the situation?" asked Henry, clearly not wanting to leave the family meal.

"We've encountered some sort of anomaly in our path to Betazed," answered Johnathan.

"An anomaly in charted space?" asked Henry to Lindsey.

Lindsey shrugged her shoulders. "We better check it out," she said. Lindsey replied to Johnathan. "We're on our way." Lindsey turned to Chef who was standing by. "Chef, if you could…"

"Don't worry, Captain," said Chef. "Theresa and I can enjoy lunch together. I will make sure that she gets back to school.

"Thank you," said Lindsey. Being both captain and mother was difficult. But Lindsey had quickly learned which members of the crew could be trusted with Theresa. Lindsey kissed Theresa on the forehead. "Mommy and Daddy have to go. We will see you later tonight." She kissed Theresa one more time for good measure.

Lindsey and Henry arrived on the bridge via the turbolift in the rear. At the same time, Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim, Lindsey's Andorian first officer, arrived in the turbolift near Lindsey's ready room.

"Status," asked Lindsey as she sat in her captain's chair. Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson cleared out of the command chair and sat in the navigator's chair. Lindsey, like Capt. Taylor before her, had opted to keep the navigator position on her bridge, even as most other starships merged the role into the helm. But the navigators on the Orion did much more than navigation. They were really like a second operations officer. Indeed, Johnathan Mikkelson had become a jack of all trades, able to fly the ship, work the weapons systems, operate the sensors, and even take over Engineering functions if he had to.

Lt. Mikkelson answered Lindsey's question. "Sensors detected a previously unknown anomaly. We have little information on it at this time."

Thrim took his first officer's seat next to Lindsey. "The anomaly appears to be outside of major traffic lanes. However, it may still pose a danger to passing ships."

"Let's check it out," said Lindsey. "Alter course towards the anomaly. Proceed at warp 4. Have Cmdr. T'Sel come to the bridge. I think we may want our science officer for this one."

Lt. Cmdr. Lect Nixx came to the bridge. "Permission to attend on the bridge," he said from Lindsey's side.

"Why not?" answered Lindsey. She indicated the empty chair to her left. Cmdr. Nixx sat down.

T'Sel arrived on the bridge. She took a moment to confer with Henry, who was standing behind the rail that framed in the command chairs. The top of the rail doubled as the tactical and operations stations. It only took a second for T'Sel to get up to speed. Soon she was at one of the science stations. "Captain. The anomaly is roughly twelve kilometers in average diameter. Its shape however is not a perfect sphere. It is a rather asymmetrical."

"We are approaching the anomaly," said the helmsman, Lt. Luke Ryan.

"Drop to impulse. Bring us in slowly," said Lindsey. Lindsey felt a twinge of pain in her forehead. She thought her headache had gone away hours ago.

"Captain," spoke Henry. He always addressed her as captain when on duty. "Are you sure that we should stop here? We could place warning buoys and get on our way to Betazed."

"We could do that," answered Lindsey. "But I want to take some good sensor readings before we do anything else. This anomaly appeared very quickly. It could disappear just as quickly. We can't pass up this opportunity." Lindsey looked up at her husband. "Besides, I will take any chance I have to display the Orion's science team as competent and able."

"As would I," said T'Sel. "Within the bounds of logic, of course," added the Vulcan. "Captain, we are getting some strange readings from inside the anomaly."

"Of what sort?" asked Lindsey.

"I can't be sure yet," said T'Sel. "It is an object inside the anomaly, possibly a ship."

"A ship?" asked Lindsey. Suddenly this felt very familiar. Meanwhile, Lindsey's headache grew in intensity.

"It is a possibility, Captain. But I need more time to collect information."

"Then we better get you that time," said Lindsey. "Mr. Hickensen, you better let Betazed know that…" Lindsey paused as the most surreal sense came upon her. "…that we will be delayed." Had she been here before?

"Lindsey, are you alright?" asked Henry, uncharacteristically using her first name on the bridge. Others noticed it as well, especially those whom Lindsey was closest to.

"I'm fine," answered Lindsey. "Just a small headache and a whole lot of déjà vu."

"Déjà vu, Captain?" asked Cmdr. Lect Nixx. He hadn't spoken since he sat down next to Lindsey.

"Never mind," said Lindsey. The headache was growing more intense. "T'Sel, keep scanning."

The bridge crew continued their work as the Orion drew closer to the anomaly at impulse speeds. Lindsey's headache grew worse and worse. When colorful floating lines began appearing in her vision, Lindsey knew something was wrong. She could hear Henry's voice above her, "Lindsey, you don't look so good."

Lindsey turned to her first officer. "Ser'rek." As the Andorian looked at her his antennae stood straight in surprise. She really must not have looked good. "You have the bridge," was all Lindsey could say.

Ser'rek Thrim acted immediately. "Sickbay, medical team to the bridge. The Captain is not well. Mr. Hickensen, you are relieved in order to attend to your wife."

Lindsey could see Henry come around the railing and towards her. But just as he was about to reach her, the pain in her head jumped to unbearable intensities. She lost all sense of balance. Lindsey felt herself fall out of her chair and onto the deck floor. Her vision became completely blurred.

Lindsey was pretty sure she was screaming in pain, but she couldn't hear herself. She thought she could hear Henry calling her name.

But just before she passed out, she could have sworn she heard Capt. Taylor's voice.

Lindsey groaned as she came back to. Her head still hurt, but the pain was dull now. What had happened? Lindsey tried to search her memory. She was on the bridge of the Orion. Did she pass out? She decided right then and there that she was going to take Henry's advice. Once they got their new chief medical officer from Betazed, she was going to have that doctor give her a full physical examination.

As Lindsey tried to sit up, she heard a voice. "Easy there. Don't get up too quickly." It was probably good advice, since Lindsey's vision was only now beginning to come into focus. "You're still going to be groggy for the next few minutes." Whose voice was that? It sounded very familiar, but Lindsey couldn't place which doctor or nurse it was. Whoever it was had a great voice for bedside manner.

"What happened?" asked Lindsey.

"You passed out on the bridge," said the doctor's voice. "And you were apparently in a lot of pain, though I cannot determine the cause of it."

As her vision cleared Lindsey could see the outline of the doctor. "I'm sure you will figure…"

Lindsey jumped back in alarm.

"Whoa, Lieutenant! I said take it easy," said the doctor. "You look like you've seen a ghost.

But Lindsey was pretty sure that was exactly what she had seen. "Doctor Randle?"

"Yes, it is me. Dr. Thomas Randle, the chief medical officer of the Orion."

That wasn't possible! Dr. Randle was dead! He died three years ago when the Borg invaded the Orion. He gave his life to save Johnathan Mikkelson, his wife Selina, and their newborn child. But there he was, standing in front of Lindsey. Lindsey was speechless.

"Lieutenant, are you alright?" asked Dr. Randle. "Are you in any pain?"

"Lieutenant?" asked Lindsey. She reached for her rank insignia. Instead of the four solid pips of a Starfleet Captain, Lindsey only felt one solid pip and one hollow pip, the insignia of a lieutenant junior grade.

At that moment, the door of sickbay opened, and two people walked in. Lindsey nearly fell off the biobed.

"Ah ha, Dr. Randle told me that our patient might awaken soon," said the woman with long black and grey hair braided down her back.

"Capt. Taylor!" said Lindsey. "You're here!"

"Yes, I wanted to check and see how one of my bridge officers was doing," replied the Captain. But Capt. Taylor had been dead for five years, killed when the Romulans sprung a surprise attack on the old Orion. Also dead was the man standing next her, Cmdr. Luis Gonzalez, the old Orion's first officer.

"Captain!" repeated Lindsey in disbelief.

Capt. Taylor looked over at Dr. Randle. The doctor responded. "She just woke up, Captain. And she appears to be a bit disorientated."

Disorientated?! Before her were three dead people! She was more than disorientated!

"Understood, Doctor," said Capt. Taylor. She walked up to Lindsey's biobed and rested her hand on Lindsey's shoulder. "You get your rest, Lieutenant. And follow the doctor's orders. If he prescribes bedrest, then I don't want to see you on the bridge."

Lindsey looked into the eyes of her former captain. Those dark brown eyes that held so much compassion but could become hard as steel when disciplining. There was no faking those eyes. No hologram nor facsimile could duplicate those eyes. The woman standing before Lindsey Lander was undoubtably Capt. Theresa Taylor of the USS Orion.

Capt. Taylor's looked of compassion turned a touch sterner as she expected an answer from Lindsey. Lindsey gave her a nod.

"Good," said Capt. Taylor. "Rest up and get well, Miss. Lander." Capt. Taylor nodded to the doctor, then she and Cmdr. Gonzalez left sickbay.

Lindsey lay back down on her biobed. What had just happened?!

"That was strange," said Luis Gonzalez. "It was like she didn't even recognize us."

"Oh no, she recognized us," said Capt. Taylor. "But she seemed surprised to see us. Even horrified, if I could believe it."

"Did the doctor say there was any neural damage?" Luis asked.

"No, he didn't," answered Taylor. "He wanted to go over her scans a few more times. But he said that it is not uncommon for a person to experience disorientation or even delusions when they've been under mental stress."

"Which then raises the question, what has Lt. Lindsey Lander stressed?" asked Gonzalez. "Do you think it has anything to do with the anomaly in front of us?"

Capt. Taylor shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. But I do not want Miss. Lander returning to duty until her head is clear. And I certainly don't want her working on the anomaly for a while."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Gonzalez. "We don't want your protégé to become overstressed."

Dr. Randle released Lindsey from sickbay. She still couldn't process what had happened to her. The walk down the corridors was surreal. She was on board the old Orion, the Ambassador class ship, hull number: NCC-26532 without the A. This was the namesake for Lindsey's Orion-A and its immediate predecessor. She had served on this ship for years, before it was damaged beyond repair under Lindsey's command as acting captain. A role she had been forced to take after Capt. Taylor had been killed.

She continued to look at the ship. The Orion hadn't undergone its refit yet. All the advance technologies that were introduced into Galaxy class starships were still missing from the Orion. This Orion was ten or fifteen years behind the curve.

It hadn't been refitted yet? Lindsey thought about it. But it would be refitted at some point, wouldn't it? This had all happened before. This setting and these people all belonged to the past. Was that what had happened? Did Lindsey travel back in time?

Lindsey arrived at what she thought were her quarters. But she realized that she was at the wrong door. Lindsey felt her rank pips again. She was only a lieutenant junior grade. When she was promoted to lieutenant senior grade, she had been issued new quarters. Then when the Orion was refitted, she was again issued new quarters. But where did she live when she was only a lieutenant junior grade. She couldn't remember. Wasn't it on the starboard side? And what deck?

Lindsey continued to wander hallways, until she bumped into someone she knew. "Frank!"

"Lindsey! I heard you took a bump on the head while on the bridge," said Ulysses Francis Grant, aka Frank.

"Yeah, something like that. I thought you were on Earth with…" Lindsey stopped. That was the Frank of the present, who was visiting family with his wife Alivia O'Hara-Grant. But this man in front of her was the Frank of the past. He hasn't even met Alivia at this time. Lindsey looked at Frank. He looked young, very young. He was also a lieutenant junior grade, as opposed to the rank of lieutenant commander which present day Frank held.

"Why would you think I was on Earth?" asked Frank.

"I'm just getting my days mixed up," answered Lindsey. More like mixing up her years.

"What are you doing on this deck?" asked Frank.

"Dr. Randle released me from sickbay. But I am still out of sorts."

"You're lost?"

Lindsey looked up at young Frank. "I can't remember where my quarters are."

Frank gave her a sympathetic nod. "Come on. I'll get you home."

Frank escorted her to a turbolift and brough her down a few decks. By the time he brought Lindsey to her quarters, she remembered where they were.

"Here you are. Get some rest," said Frank.

"Thank you," said Lindsey. She was exhausted.

Lindsey entered her quarters. She walked right to the bathroom, turned on the light, and splashed water on her face. As she dried her face with a towel, she looked up into the mirror and froze.

She had noticed earlier that she was wearing one of the old ship-board uniforms with the black shoulders and the color scheme underneath. She was wearing yellow for her assignment in the department of operations. After her promotion to lieutenant senior grade, she would switch to the red of command. But it was not her uniform that surprised her.

It was her face! It was firm and strong. Blemishes that had occurred over time were gone. Creases that had formed were not there. Her skin felt smoother. Her hair was done up in an academy style bun. Lindsey took off her uniform. Her entire body was more fit and strong. The stretch marks from her pregnancy were missing.

This wasn't time travel! Lindsey was actually her younger self. But how was that possible?

Lindsey found a nightgown and put it on. Then she found her bed. She pulled back the sheet and climbed in. She lay in bed for what seemed like hours, pounding on how this was possible. Finally, extreme weariness took over, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Hoping that when she woke up, this would all be some strange dream.

Henry stood helplessly in sickbay, as the doctors and nurses did their work.

There on a biobed was the unresponsive body of his wife. The doctors wouldn't tell him what was going on. In fact, Henry got the impression that they didn't know what was going on.

All Henry knew was that something was very wrong with his wife.