Chapter 2
First Officer's log; stardate 61553.9; While we were investigating an anomaly near our course to Betazed, Capt. Lindsey Lander has fallen into some type of coma. We are uncertain if the anomaly and the Captain's condition are related, but I have ordered the Orion to hold position until we learn more.
Ens. Rikka Samae arrived with Lt. Cmdr. T'Sel into sickbay. There on a bio-bed lay the unconscious Capt. Lindsey Lander. Sitting on a chair next to her and holding her hand was Cmdr. Henry Hickensen, her husband. Also, there was Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim, the Orion's first officer, a lieutenant commander whom Samae didn't recognize, and Dr. Ghosh.
"Commander," spoke Dr. Ghosh to T'Sel. "I am glad you're here. There are some strange things happening here. I could use more opinions." A human male from a large sub-continent on Earth called India, Dr. Ghosh was the interim chief medical officer until they could pick up their new chief medical officer from Betazed.
"I will help in any way I can," said T'Sel. T'Sel, a Vulcan woman, was Samae's boss in the science department. At least it was that way for the moment. Samae had heard rumors that T'Sel had been offered the first officer's position on a Starfleet science vessel. Samae usually welcomed change, but she had gotten use to life on the Orion. Cmdr. Thrim was getting his own command and T'Sel might be leaving. And then there were Samae's two closest friends, the married couple of Lt. Cmdrs. Ulysses Francis Grant (aka Frank) and Alivia O'Hara-Grant. Alivia was always keeping an eye on the Utopia Planitia Shipyards for a possible opening, and Frank always talked about pursuing an academic career in anthropology. If all Samae's friends and mentors left the Orion, what would she do?
And then there was Capt. Lander. She looked so vulnerable lying on that bio-bed. Samae had seen Capt. Lander at her toughest when the two of them, along with several others, were left behind as the Orion had been boarded and taken over by the Borg. Lander was just below average when it came to height and strength for human females, but she was tough as nails in an emergency. It was hard for Samae to see her like this.
"Doctor," spoke Cmdr. Thrim, interrupting Samae's thoughts. "What kind of strange things are you referring to?"
"Take a look, Commander," said Dr. Ghosh. He waved T'Sel over as well. Samae stood back a bit but still took a position where she could see the monitors. "Our Captain is in some sort of coma, but it is not like any coma I've ever seen. Look at her brain activity." Samae looked but didn't understand. Neurology was not Samae's strong suit.
"Her brain activity is higher than normal. Near the upper limits of typical human neural activity," said T'Sel. "I do not believe that is consistent with a comatose state."
"It is not," said Dr. Ghosh. "With these neural scans, I cannot technically diagnose this as a coma. In fact, I cannot even say that Capt. Lander is unconscious."
"You mean she's awake?" asked Cmdr. Hickensen.
"Awake, asleep," said Dr. Ghosh. "I don't know. An hour ago, Capt. Lander entered what might be called a sleep cycle. But with the heighten brain activity, I can't be certain. The only thing I can truly say is that Capt. Lander is in a state of unresponsiveness."
"Could the anomaly be the cause of this?" asked Thrim.
"I cannot count out that possibility," said the doctor. "If there is an outside influence on her mind, that could explain her increased brain activity."
"Then if we move the Orion away from the anomaly, perhaps her brain activity would lower," said Hickensen.
"That may be," said Dr. Ghosh. "It might just be the case that Capt. Lander's brain is overwhelmed at this level of activity. But I don't want to try moving her away just yet. I am concerned the affects that might have. This is all complicated by the Captain's preexisting condition."
"Preexisting condition?" asked Thrim.
"Yes, look here," said the doctor pointing to a scan. "Here are some places where the brain activity is lower. These are small patches of neural scar tissue. They wouldn't normally inhibit Capt. Lander in any noticeable ways. But these are not normal conditions."
"How did Capt. Lander get neural scar tissue?" asked Thrim.
"From her service on the old Orion," said Hickensen. "She was wounded in action. Suffered a major concussion and neural hemorrhaging. She underwent several neural surgeries and made a near full recovery."
"And this will complicate your treatment options, Doctor?" asked Thrim.
"That's an understatement," replied Dr. Ghosh. "Frankly, Commander, I'm in over my head. I've never experienced anything like this. I do not feel comfortable proceeding in any manner without some second or third opinions."
"Who on the Orion could provide such opinions?" asked Thrim.
"No one, Sir. I've brought in all of our doctors, and they are as baffled as I am. I asked Lt. Cmdr. T'Sel to come with some of her scientists to help."
"Maybe we should call in our new chief medical officer," suggested Samae. "We were going to bring him on board when we reached Betazed."
"We were going to bring him on board at the end of our shore leave on Betazed," said Cmdr. Thrim. "He hasn't arrived yet and is not yet available."
"Doctor, is there anyone whom you would suggest from off the Orion?" asked Hickensen.
"I would recommend calling the top neurological experts on Earth," answered Dr. Ghosh. "Or maybe reaching out to the Vulcan Science Academy. As telepaths they study the brain extensively. I'm sure someone there has studied the human brain. Or we could reach out to the Betazoids." Dr. Ghosh paused. "Who was the surgeon who did the Captain's neural surgery?"
"Dr. Thomas Randle was the attending physician," said Hickensen.
"Is he available?"
Samae's gut dropped even as Hickensen answered. "No, he was killed in action a little over two years ago." Dr. Thomas Randle had sacrificed himself when the Borg boarded the Orion. Samae glanced over at the quarantine area of sickbay. It was in that very spot where Dr. Randle had died.
Hickensen continued, "But Dr. Randle was assisted extensively by Dr. Beverly Crusher of the Enterprise. She was truly a co-surgeon."
Thrim wasted no time. "Computer, where is the USS Enterprise?"
"The Enterprise is on a diplomatic mission, negotiating a border dispute in the Draygo System."
"That's not too far away considering that it is the Enterprise," said Hickensen.
"I doubt I could convince them to reroute here," said Thrim. "And it would take several days or even weeks to travel by shuttle. But I will call them anyway."
"I would like to be a part of that call," said Hickensen. "Capt. Picard was Lindsey's supervisor when she had only provisional command of the Orion. And I've worked with him before."
T'Sel took this moment to comment. "If we are going to study the effects of this anomaly on Capt. Lander, I suggest that that we ask the Enterprise if they have any dual qualified scientists. I am confident in my science team's abilities, but they are not qualified for medical work. I myself am a student of biology, but human neurology is not one of my areas of expertise."
A thought came into Samae's head like a light panel. "What if we get a doctor who also has a genius level intellect, someone who could work with both the medical and science teams?" T'Sel raised her Vulcan eyebrow at her subordinate's suggestion.
"Where would we find someone like that?" asked Hickensen.
"On Deep Space Nine," answered Samae.
"Are you referring to a specific person, Ensign?" asked Thrim.
"Yes, Sir. His name is Dr. Julian Bashir. He attended to me and Cmdr. Grant when we were injured on the station a couple of years ago." What Samae didn't say was that she had died on Deep Space Nine and was revived by the Bajoran Prophets, but that wasn't necessary information. "Dr. Bashir is a genetically modified human. He has a superior intellect."
"Genetic engineering on sentient species is illegal!" said Dr. Ghosh in horror.
"The legal consequences were sorted out," responded Samae. She approached the map of the galaxy. "The Draygo System is not too far from Deep Space Nine, just on the other side of Cardassian Space. You might be able to persuade the Enterprise of that detour. From there Dr. Crusher could hop a ride with Dr. Bashir on one of DS9's runabouts. At maximum warp, a runabout could get them here in seven or eight hours."
Thrim polled the room with a glance. Dr. Ghosh, T'Sel, and Hickensen all nodded. "Alright, Mr. Hickensen, if you wish you may contact the Enterprise. I will call Cmdr. Ro Laren on Deep Space Nine and ask to borrow her doctor."
"Commander, I can join you on that call," said Samae. "I am well known to both Cmdr. Ro and Dr. Bashir."
"I would appreciate that, Ensign," said Thrim. To Dr. Ghosh he said, "In the meantime, Doctor, continue monitoring the Captain. Let me know immediately if anything changes."
"Of course, Sir," replied Dr. Ghosh. "It may be obvious, but I am declaring Capt. Lander medically unfit for duty. It is my responsibility to inform you, Cmdr. Thrim, that you are now acting captain of the Orion."
"Understood, Doctor," said Thrim. If the weight of command burdened Cmdr. Thrim, he didn't show it. "I will be in the captain's ready room."
Thrim and Hickensen left the room. Samae went to follow Thrim, but she took one last look at the women on the bio-bed. Everyone who had served on the Orion for more than two years knew that their captain would do almost anything for them. And Samae decided she would do the same for her captain.
Captain's log; stardate 54734.2: We've been holding our position next to the anomaly. Starfleet has been contacted, and a science vessel, the USS Hawking, is on route. But with a Starfleet distress signal possibly originating at the anomaly we are obligated to investigate.
On a side note, I am a bit concerned about one of my officers. Lindsey Lander has been relieved of duty, but I would like to know more about her condition.
Lindsey woke up. She had served on a Starfleet vessel long enough to know she wasn't on a normal wake at dawn sleep at dusk schedule. She lifted her head to check her glow-in-the-dark clock. She couldn't see the clock. She took a minute to reorientate herself. But the clock clearly wasn't where it was supposed to be. Did Henry take it down?
"Computer, what time is it?"
"It is 0257 hours."
"Sorry, honey, I had to ask…" Lindsey rolled over.
There was no one else in her bed! Where was Henry? Lindsey looked about in a panic. She wasn't in her quarters. Did she fall asleep somewhere else?
Then Lindsey's mind caught up to her. She was on the old Orion. She was a lieutenant and not a captain. She was a single woman and not a wife. She shook her head. She hadn't checked the time when she went to bed, but it was early. Her head felt fine. She must have gotten enough rest. It didn't matter to Lindsey that it was not even 3 o'clock in the morning. She was ready to get up.
Lindsey got out of bed and began her morning routine. She fell right into old habits. Sonic shower, brushing teeth, putting on her yellow uniform. She was even putting the final touches on her hair style, the Academy preferred bun.
Then her memory jumped to braiding her hair in the quarters she shared with Henry. Lindsey dropped her hands to her side and looked into the mirror. Both routines seemed normal. Both seemed real. But which one was real? Was she a captain or a lieutenant? Was she married or single? Did she wear her hair in a bun or in braids?
She had all the memories of Capt. Lindsey Lander. But were they real? Was it all some sort of dream that had lived itself out while she was unconscious? Henry Hickensen was an old boyfriend from her Academy days. Did she just fantasize her marriage to him?
Lindsey didn't have the answers, and she wasn't going to get them by starring at her mirror. Lindsey finished her bun, straighten her uniform, and left her quarters.
She started in the mess hall. It was just as she remembered it. A tall man approached her. "Up early, Lindsey?"
"Chef," said Lindsey with delight. Chef Richard Matthews was one of the best cooks in Starfleet. How Capt. Taylor got him to work on the Orion was beyond Lindsey. Lindsey pondered on what else she remembered about Chef.
"What can I get you for breakfast?" asked Chef, interrupting Lindsey's thoughts.
Lindsey felt her stomach growl. How long had it been since she had eaten? With two different memories going at the same time, it was hard to tell. "I'll take a waffle and three strips of bacon."
"Coming right up," said Chef. As he left to fill her order, Lindsey tried to recall her memories of the cook. Under her command he had defended the Orion as a security officer. Or rather he would do so in the future, if the future which Lindsey remembered was real. Chef used to be a security officer before pursuing a love of the culinary arts. Maybe Lindsey's imagination simply put him back in the yellow uniform.
Lindsey looked at Chef as he returned and imagined him in a yellow security uniform. Chef was tall, broad in the shoulders, and he had a handsome face. Lindsey shook the image out of her mind. Chef was a friend, but her imagination was going too far. "Here is your breakfast," said Chef.
"Thank you," was all Lindsey said, and put her focus on her food.
"Have a good day, Lindsey."
"You too, Chef." Lindsey did look up at Chef. He had the smile of a friend, and that warmed Lindsey's heart. After he left, Lindsey was pondering about her reaction. Many years ago in the Academy and even for her first year on the Orion Lindsey had been highly flirtatious. Capt. Taylor had forbidden her to engage in romantic relationships, forcing into a type of dating fast. While not appreciated at the time, it gave Lindsey the time she needed to gain some maturity. But will all the energy she was experiencing now, it was a wonder that she was able to control herself back then.
Lindsey looked down at her breakfast plate and was surprised that the food was all gone. She had thought she had ordered too much, but she had eaten it all without thinking. She had a young woman's sex drive and now a young woman's appetite! What else was different, now that she was young again?
Leaving the mess hall, Lindsey returned to her quarters. Then changing into her gym clothes, she headed to the exercise gym. She promptly hopped on a treadmill and ran at her top speed. It was invigorating. After her cardio she headed over to the squat bar. She put on additional weight three times. She was at her peak physical fitness. She had no idea what seven years and one childbirth had done to her body.
After her workout, Lindsey was panting. She grabbed a towel and padded down her sweaty brow. She stood in front of a mirror and looked at her younger self. She was wearing tight shorts that cut off halfway down her thigh. And she wore a tight-fitting, sleeveless athletic top. She took a moment to look at the gentle curves of her body. She looked good.
Lindsey spotted someone in the mirror and immediately covered her moment of vanity by continuing to towel dry her sweat.
"Lindsey! I'm surprised to see you here," said the other person.
Lindsey turned. "Frank. Good to see you. I just needed to burn some energy."
"You seemed like you were struggling yesterday," said Frank.
"Nothing a little sleep couldn't fix," replied Lindsey. "But I couldn't stay in my quarters."
"I understand," said Frank. "I like to come here to work out in the early mornings, especially if I have alpha shift duty."
"What time is it?"
"About 0430. It's quiet here at this time of day."
"You like the privacy?" asked Lindsey.
"Yeah, but I would enjoy some company…every now and then. I mean if you would like to join me." Frank's speech patterns broke down a bit and became almost intermittent.
"Yeah, maybe," replied Lindsey, wondering why Frank was acting strangely. Lindsey had known Frank since the day she first came on board the Orion. She couldn't remember him acting like this.
"That would be great. I mean, it would be enjoyable. I would like the company. If you would like the company." Again, he was stuttering with every sentence.
Then it hit Lindsey like a freight train. Frank was nervous…nervous around her!
"I got to go," said Lindsey quickly. "I have to clean up. I am supposed to check in with Dr. Randle. I will see you around, Lieutenant."
"Yeah, okay. See you around Lind…Lieutenant."
Lindsey left the gym and walked quickly back to her room. Frank being nervous around her could only mean one thing. He was attracted to her. She didn't remember this. Then again at this time in her life, Lindsey wasn't looking for a boyfriend. Perhaps she never noticed Frank's attraction because she herself wasn't open to such a relationship.
As Lindsey returned to her quarters, she gave it more thought. Her and Frank together? He was a good man, not one interested in romance for its own sake, but a man who respected women and would give his entire love to the woman he would call his wife. That was the kind of man Lindsey would want for a husband.
But Frank had a wife, Alivia O'Hara! And Lindsey had a husband, Henry! Or did she? And did Frank really have a wife, or would he even meet Alivia. Did she even exist, or was the Orion woman just a figment of Lindsey's imagination?
Lindsey tried to shake the confusion out of her head. It was time to visit Dr. Randle.
"Sensors are ready," said Lt. Cmdr. Geoffrey MacDonald, the Orion's chief engineer. "With the modifications we might be able to see inside the anomaly."
"Good," said Capt. Taylor. "Commence scanning."
"Scan commencing," said MacDonald. "It will take a minute for the scan and several more for the computer to clear up the image."
"Understood," said Taylor. If she had a few minutes she could attend to other matters. "How is our lieutenant?"
Cmdr. Gonzalez answered. "Dr. Randle says she reported to him at 0530. He says she is as physically fit as ever. He has however ordered her to take the next day off and to check in with him if she feels ill again."
"Glad to hear it," said Taylor. Lt. Lander really did have her worried for a moment.
"Scan complete. Beginning the rendering now."
"On the main viewer." Taylor stood up and looked at the viewscreen. All she could see on the display was black. But soon the edges of the anomaly appeared. As she kept watching she could see a blur inside the anomaly. "Is that a ship?"
"I am not sure," said MacDonald. "Let's keep watching." The image cleared some more. Soon Taylor could make out a saucer and two nacelles. MacDonald also notice, "Yes, it is definitely a ship."
"A Starfleet ship at that," said Taylor. "Is that ship really there, or is it a mirror of us?"
"We surrounded the anomaly with sensor probes, and it shows up on every one of them," answered MacDonald. "I'd say that ship is really there, perhaps stuck inside the anomaly."
"Do you think the crew is alive?" asked Gonzalez.
"Impossible to tell," said MacDonald. "If I can get the image a bit clearer, we might be able to tell what class ship this is."
Taylor squinted at the ship. "Magnify." The ship became clearer. It was longer than it was wide. Its saucer was oval rather than circular, giving it an almost arrowhead shape. Its secondary hull merged with the saucer from behind rather than just from below. It also gave the ship a sort of spine. Lastly it had two small warp nacelles at the rear. "It's an Intrepid class ship," concluded Taylor.
"Maybe it's Voyager!" said Taylor's helmsman. He had become very interested, even a little obsessed with Capt. Janeway and her crew ever since they had reestablished contact with Starfleet after having been missing for years. "Maybe this anomaly is some new method of travel. Maybe they've found their way home from the Delta Quadrant!"
"I doubt that, Lieutenant," said Gonzalez.
"Voyager is the only Intrepid class ship that is currently unaccounted for," retorted the helmsman.
"Interesting theory," said Taylor. "Computer, are there any Intrepid class starships in this area of the Alpha Quadrant?"
"The USS Bellerophon and the USS Mercury are both within a dozen lightyears."
"When was their last check in?" asked Taylor.
"The Bellerophon reported at Starbase 226 four hours ago. The Mercury reported in at Betazed thirty-two hours ago."
"Thirty-two hours!" said Gonzalez. "That's a long time between check-ins'. And it's before we encountered this anomaly."
"Send a long-range transmission to the Mercury on all Starfleet channels," said Taylor.
After a short pause the communications officer reported, "No answer, Ma'am."
"Put out a sector bulletin, priority two. All Starfleet vessels and stations are to be on the lookout for the Mercury. Contact Sector Command. Tell them we may have a ship in distress. And appraise the Hawking of this possible development."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Sorry, Lieutenant," said Capt. Taylor. "But I don't think that is Voyager in front of us. I think it is the Mercury."
Capt. Taylor sat back down in her captain's chair. If that was the Mercury, what kind of help did they need, and how could the Orion assist?
Medical log, Dr. Beverly Crusher; stardate 61554.2: A former patient of mine has developed an unexplained condition. Capt. Picard has given me permission to attend to her. The Enterprise has dropped me off at Deep Space Nine, and I will soon be joining Dr. Julian Bashir on the runabout Rio Grande for a six hour warp flight to the Orion.
The first hour of Beverly Crusher's trip on board the Rio Grande was quite interesting. Although his fifteen-year career was shorter than her own, Dr. Julian Bashir had an abundance of experience with battlefield medicine, Gamma Quadrant diseases, and medical research from his stable position on Deep Space Nine. Beverly enjoined the conversation with such an energetic colleague.
But after the second hour, Dr. Bashir's energy gave no sign of slowing down. He kept talking and talking. Dr. Crusher did her best to politely participate, but he seemed to keep going even without her input. At one point she implied that she needed a nap before talking on a challenging case such as Capt. Lander's. Bashir agreed, but then went on to speak about how the Jem'Hadar had been bred to go days in battle conditions with no sleep whatsoever.
Dr. Crusher was rubbing her temples to prevent a headache as Dr. Bashir finally seemed to run out of things to say. He was stroking the control console of the runabout. "Ah, the Rio Grande. You know, this was one of the first three runabouts at DS9 when the Federation took control of the station. It is the only one left of those first three. Not that it hasn't had its fair share of bumps and bruises. But it is still reliable. We use the newer runabouts or the Defiant for the more important tasks. But the Rio Grande still gets the job down. Sometimes I wonder if it is blessed by the Prophets. You know this is the ship that discovered the Wormhole?"
"Is that so?" said Dr. Crusher will thinly veil disinterest. Fortunately, Dr. Crusher was spared the life story of this particular runabout, when the helm issued a beeping sound to notify them that they were nearing their destination.
"We're here. Preparing to drop to impulse," said Dr. Bashir. "Scanners are online. I'm told there is an anomaly in this region of space. We best be careful."
"Don't worry about me. I've seen enough anomalies in my time on the Enterprise to last more than a lifetime," said Dr. Crusher. The runabout dropped out of warp. Dr. Bashir ran the sensor sweep. Dr. Crusher handled the communications. "This is the Rio Grande to the Orion. Requesting permission to land in your shuttle bay."
"Permission granted, Rio Grande. Please give our sensor probes a wide berth. We don't want anyone near the anomaly."
"Understood, Orion," answered Dr. Crusher. She looked at Dr. Bashir who nodded and took the appropriate route.
As the runabout turned, Dr. Crusher saw the Orion. For a moment, her mind jumped back to fond memories. The Orion-A was a Galaxy class starship, just like the Enterprise-D. In many ways the Enterprise-D was home for her, even more so than the Enterprise-E on which she currently served. It was on the Enterprise-D that Wesley had grown up, and it was there where she had bonded with friends such as Deanna Troy, Will Riker, Data, and Jean-Luc. As Bashir piloted the runabout passed the port side of the Orion, Beverly gazed out the side viewport. She hoped that the Orion would feel a bit like home. As they came to the main shuttle bay, which was in the rear section of the saucer, it did feel like coming home.
"Ah, the spacious hanger bay of a Galaxy class ship," said Dr. Bashir. "I suppose it doesn't compare to the luxury of a Sovereign class ship like the Enterprise."
"Oh, it has its own charm," said Dr. Crusher.
The runabout, larger than Starfleet shuttle craft, took up a good portion of the shuttle bay. Dr. Bashir promptly grabbed his bag and prepared to exit the vehicle. Dr. Crusher joined him.
They were greeted by an Andorian male with a red uniform and a commander's rank as well as by a Bajoran woman with a blue uniform and an ensign's rank.
"Welcome on board the Orion, Drs. Crusher and Bashir. I am Cmdr. Ser'rek Thrim. The Orion is under my command until we are able to restore Capt. Lander to health."
"I am Dr. Beverly Crusher of the Enterprise," said Crusher.
"And I am Dr. Julian Bashir of Deep Space Nine. It is good to meet you again Commander. And you as well Ens. Rikka."
"I'm glad to see you too, Doctor," said the young Bajoran woman.
"A former patient of mine," spoke Bashir softly to Crusher.
"We can show you to your quarters if you would like," said Cmdr. Thrim.
"I would rather tend to the patient first," said Dr. Crusher.
"As would I," added Bashir.
"Very well. Follow me."
Henry sat by Lindsey's bedside. "Is Mommy sick?" asked little Theresa.
"Yes, Theresa, Mommy is sick," Henry answered his daughter.
"Will Mommy get better?"
"I hope so," said Henry.
"We have some of the best doctors coming," said Selina Chaput-Mikkelson. She was a lieutenant on the Orion and one of Lindsey's friends. She was in the room with her son Thomas Mikkelson.
"Will they make Tee-sa's mommy better?" asked little Thomas. Thomas was about a year older than Theresa, but still struggled to pronoun Theresa's name correctly.
"They will do their best," said Selina. "They are very good at what they do."
"Like Dr. Thomas?" asked little Thomas. He was referring to Dr. Thomas Randle, the little boy's namesake who gave his life in order to save the baby and his parents. Little Thomas had apparently been told some of that story.
"Yes, like Dr. Thomas," answered Selina sweetly.
"Can I lay with Mommy?" asked Theresa.
"Of course," said Henry. He lifted his daughter up and set her beside the unconscious Lindsey. "Be gentle, Mommy is still sick." Little Theresa snuggled against her mother, laying her head on her shoulder. Even little Thomas came forward and held Lindsey's hand. Henry encouraged Theresa. "Mommy might be able to hear you. Why don't you talk to her?"
"Actually, we have not seen any evidence that Capt. Lander is aware of her surroundings," said T'Sel, the Vulcan scientist. Henry gave T'Sel a stern look. She paused to reconsider. "But we also haven't seen any evidence to say that she cannot not hear you." Henry gave T'Sel a smile and a nod.
Theresa began to tell her mother stories of her day, while Henry listened.
"Are you going to help make Tee-sa's mommy better?" asked Thomas of T'Sel.
T'Sel looked down at the boy. Almost as if on a second thought, she lowered herself to Thomas' eye level. "Preserving life is an ethical priority. It would be logical for me to do what I can to help Captain…Theresa's mother to get better. I will be helping Drs. Crusher and Bashir as they try to treat Capt. Lander's condition." The Vulcan woman was about to stand but, again as if on a second thought, she gently padded the child on the head. There was no emotion in the gesture, but the boy received it with a smile anyway. Selina and Johnathan had chosen T'Sel to be little Thomas' godmother. Like Dr. Randle, T'Sel played a role in saving the lives of that family. She had accepted the role, trying to both fulfill its human expectations but also infusing it with Vulcan logic.
The door to the room slid open. Thrim and Ens. Rikka entered along with two humans wearing the blue uniforms of Starfleet medical personnel. Henry recognized them both. He had met Dr. Beverly Crusher in a similar situation when Lindsey was injured on the old Orion. He had met Dr. Julian Bashir at a party on Deep Space Nine following the successful handling of a dangerous situation there. At that time Theresa had only been a newborn.
"Theresa, Thomas, it is time to go," said Selina.
"Do we have to?" asked Thomas.
"Yes. We need to let Theresa's mom rest while the doctors do their work."
"Theresa, give Mommy a kiss," said Henry.
Theresa kissed her mother on the check. "Get better soon, Mommy."
Henry picked her up and set her next to Selina. Selina held both children by the hand. Before she could leave, Henry spoke, "Thank you, Selina, for watching Theresa. This isn't an easy time for our family."
"I know," said Selina. "I will take care of Theresa, while you stay with your wife." The two exchanged a smile. Then Selina led the two children out of the room.
Henry stood up and faced the new arrivals. Ser'rek Thrim handled the introductions. "Henry, these are Drs. Beverly Crusher and Julian Bashir. Doctors, this is Cmdr. Henry Hickensen, Capt. Lander's husband."
Henry extended his hand to both doctors. "Dr. Bashir, we meet on Deep Space Nine when our crews had a joint party. And, Dr. Crusher, we've also met before."
"Under similar circumstances," said Dr. Crusher. "I wish we could have met in another situation."
"An occupational hazard, I imagine," said Henry. Dr. Crusher tipped her head to the side and nodded her agreement.
"I do not think the circumstances are that similar," said T'Sel. "Apart from Capt. Lander being unresponsive, I don't see that there is much similarity to the last time you treated the Captain, Dr. Crusher."
Thrim continued his introduction. "Doctors, this is Lt. Cmdr. T'Sel, our science officer. She is here to help you determine if there is a connection between the Captain's condition and the anomaly outside our ship."
"As am I," said Ens. Rikka.
"Let's get to work," said Dr. Bashir.
"Capt. Thrim and Cmdr. T'Sel to the bridge," came Lt. Luke Ryan's voice over the commbadges.
Thrim and T'Sel exchanged a nod. Thrim tapped his commbadge. "We are on our way." Turning towards the doctors, he said, "If this is of any relevance to your work, we will send the information your way." Then the two officers left.
Lt. Cmdr. Lect Nixx, an interviewee for Ser'rek Thrim's replacement as first officer, joined Ser'rek and T'Sel in the turbolift. "Bridge," stated Ser'rek, and the lift began taking them up.
"I see that Capt. Lander wasn't joking when she said a first officer always has to be ready to take command," said Nixx.
"Indeed," said Ser'rek. "Capt. Lander is thus far the only assigned captain of the Orion. But this vessel in its five years of service has already been under the temporary commands of Cmdr. Hickensen, Admiral Janeway, and myself. Being a first officer always implies the possibility of command."
"Janeway was first officer on this ship?" asked Nixx in confusion.
"No, the Orion was briefly Vice Admiral Janeway's flagship. She took command when Capt. Lander was MIA during the Borg battles in Romulan space."
"Oh," said the Bolian commander.
The lift arrived on the bridge. Ser'rek was the first out of the lift. "Report."
Standing above the command chairs at the tactical railing was Lt. Melinda Vibee and Chief Petty Officer Shelton. Vibee was the highest ranking engineer during Lt. Cmdr. Alivia O'Hara-Grant's absence. O'Hara-Grant and her husband were on leave, visiting their parents on Earth. CPO Shelton was the sensor chief. Seeing those two on the bridge told Ser'rek that they had learned something from the sensors about the anomaly.
It was Shelton who answered. "Captain, there is something inside the anomaly."
"Chief, given the hopefully temporary nature of my status as acting captain, let's abstain from the old naval tradition and continue to address me as commander."
"Yes, Commander," said Shelton.
"You said there is an object inside the anomaly. Do you mean like an asteroid or a comet?" asked Ser'rek.
"Like a starship," answered Vibee.
"On screen," ordered Ser'rek. The viewscreen already displayed the anomaly, but now it changed to the more detailed image from the scans. There inside the anomaly, Ser'rek could make out the shape of a ship.
"We believe it is an Intrepid class ship," said Shelton. "It matches the size and shape."
"Are there any Intrepid ships in the area?" asked Ser'rek.
"We sent out a call to all Starfleet vessels reported to be in this area," said Lt. Mikkelson. "They have all reported back saying they were in good condition."
Ser'rek sat in the captain's chair. It was customized for Lindsey Lander, and thus a bit too small for Ser'rek, but he was used to it.
"Can you get a better image?" asked Lt. Cmdr. Nixx. "Perhaps we will be able to read its hull number?" He looked to Ser'rek for permission before sitting in the first officer's chair.
"We can try," said Shelton. "We are getting interference of an unknown type. Once we figure it out, we should be able to filter it."
"I can help with that," said T'Sel. "Have you detected any influence on the Orion or the Captain yet?"
"Not yet," answered Vibee.
Ser'rek issued orders. "Hail Sector Command. I will take their call in the ready room. They need to be appraised of this." Ser'rek turned to Vibee. "When will O'Hara-Grant and her husband be returning?"
"They are scheduled to board an express transport to Betazed tomorrow."
"Until O'Hara arrives, you are my go-to engineer. I want to learn everything we can about that anomaly and the ship trapped inside." Thrim turned back to the viewscreen. He resisted the urge to squint at the image. What ship was that in there?
"Are you sure you don't want to read more of my research on Betazoid culture? It will prepare you for your time there?"
"No, Dad. I've read enough," said Frank. "You do know that Alivia and I will not be spending any significant time on Betazed. We took our shore leave here on Earth to be with you. Now we have to attend to the Orion while the rest of the crew takes shore leave."
"And we are grateful that you choose to spend your shore leave with us," said Frank's mother, Isabella Grant. "Alivia, sweetheart, more tea."
"Thank you, Mrs. Grant."
"Alivia, you are like a daughter to me," said Frank's mother. "Call me Isabella, I insist."
"Okay, Isabella." Alivia received another glass of the iced tea from Frank's mother. He stared in amazement at the two women he loved the most. It made him happy to see his wife and his parents get along so well. They were spending the last few days of their shore leave with Frank's parents in Knoxville, Tennessee, his mother's hometown. They had spent a few days in Dublin, Ireland with Alivia's parents. Frank got along with his in-laws just as well as Alivia did with his parents. And one of Alivia's sisters was also home at the time with her husband and children.
"Are you sure, Son," said Frank's father, Cornelius. "I hear interesting things about Betazoid traditions." Cornelius Grant was an anthropologist. Although not a member of Starfleet, he worked extensively in different cultures both within the Federation and beyond. Perhaps it was the artificial environment of his hometown Tycho City on Earth's moon that made him long to study history and culture. Frank had to admit, he had strong desires in the same direction, but the Dominion War had transformed him into a security officer back when he was a cadet.
"Yes, Dad, I'm sure."
"Alivia, did you read the articles I found on Orion culture?"
"Cornelius, please. You're smothering them," said Frank's mother. "That's my job."
Alivia laughed. "I did read them. I never realized some of the hidden culture that underlies the Orions' less…pristine public face." Frank's wife Alivia O'Hara-Grant was a green skinned Orion female, but she had been raised by adopted human parents in Ireland. Culturally, she was more human, more Irish, than Orion.
"Ulysses…" stared Isabella.
"Mom, no one calls me Ulysses," said Frank. Frank's full name was Ulysses Francis Grant, but due to sharing his first and last name with a historical figure, he preferred Frank.
"Your father and I gave you that name," countered Frank's mother. "I can use it whenever I want."
"It's not so bad, Ulysses," said Alivia with emphasis on his name. Great, his wife and mother were teaming up against him.
"Ulysses," continue his mother. "When does your transport leave for Betazed?"
"0800 hours San Francisco time. Our train to San Francisco leaves at 9 A.M. local time."
"Then we ought to make the best of our time," said Frank's mother.
Conversations continued. Frank found it relaxing for a time, that was until his father spoke up. "Next time you're on Earth, you should meet an old friend of mine."
"Oh?" asked Frank suspiciously.
"Yes, he's a doctor who specializes in interspecies reproduction."
"An old friend?" asked Alivia will equal suspicion.
"Well, I did meet him for the first time about a month ago."
"And how did you meet him, may I ask?" pressed Alivia.
"Oh, nothing gets by you quick-witted Irish folk," said Frank's father. "I sought him out. I thought he might be able to help the two of you."
Frank and Alivia exchanged a glance. They had so far been unsuccessful in their attempts to conceive a child. Humans and Orions were not the most compatible when it came to reproduction. "Thank you, Cornelius," said Alivia. "We might have to try that."
"It is good to keep our options open," added Frank.
"Are your options open?" asked Frank's mother. She seemed immediately embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be prying."
Again, Frank and Alivia exchanged glances. They had been talking much on the matter lately. "Yes, Mother," said Frank. "But it's complicated. Much depends on what direction our careers take us."
"Have you given an answer to Utopia Planitia?" asked Frank's mother.
"No," said Alivia. "We have to discuss it further."
"If you were looking to start a family, my new friend might be of help," encouraged Frank's father.
"Actually, we were thinking of adoption," said Alivia. "I was adopted. I can't imagine my life without my parents."
"Why did your parents choose adoption?" asked Frank's mother.
Alivia seemed relieved at the less intense topic. "My father was an engineer in Starfleet."
"Like father, like daughter," noted Frank's father.
"Yes," agreed Alivia. Alivia was the Orion's chief engineer. "One day while my father was on duty, the warp core had a radiation leak. The engineering team remained at their posts at their own personal risk. Their efforts prevented a warp core breach. They all experienced radiation poisoning, but it was mostly reversable."
"Mostly?" asked Frank's mother.
"After his exposure to the radiation, my father experienced fertility issues," answered Alivia.
"Surely there was something the doctors could do," said Frank's father.
"Yes, the fertility doctors had some promising ideas. But my father and mother took this as a sign that they should become adoptive parents. They adopted my older brother first, then me, then my two sisters. More recently they have become foster parents to Dominion War orphans."
"Are you the only non-human?" asked Isabella.
"Yes," said Alivia. "My birth mother handed me over to the captain of my parents' starship. My adoption was a spur of the moment decision."
"And you are considering such a decision?" asked Frank's mother.
Frank was about to steer the conversation away from the topic of having children, when his parents comm-panel beeped. Frank's father stood up to answer it in the other room. Frank could hear his father's voice. "Grant Residence." He couldn't hear the voices that followed. His father came back into the room. "It is for the two of you. A Cmdr. Thrim."
"The Orion's first officer," explained Frank. He and Alivia stood up and entered the next room. Before they came to the panel, Frank whispered to Alivia, "Saved by the bell." Alivia nodded back to him just as they activated the viewscreen.
The blue skinned Andorian first officer of the Orion appeared. "Commanders," he addressed both Frank and Alivia.
"What can we do for you, Commander?" asked Frank.
"The Orion will not be waiting for you when you arrive on Betazed. We've encountered an anomaly and are remaining here until our situation is resolved. We are dispatching a shuttle on autopilot. It should be waiting for you there. I want you to return to the Orion as soon as you arrive on Betazed."
"Understood, Commander," said Alivia dutifully. "I will be back to assist Engineering. I assume that Lt. Vibee has been serving well."
"Yes, she and the rest of the engineering crew haver performed well in these circumstances."
'Our situation' and 'these circumstances'? Frank's instincts as a security officer told him that there was something Thrim wasn't telling them. "What kind of circumstances or situation are you in, Commander?"
Thrim took a deep breath before telling them. "The Captain's unresponsive in sickbay. It might be related to the anomaly, but we are not sure."
Frank looked at Alivia and found his concerned mirrored in her face.
Dr. Randle didn't run any additional tests, and Lindsey did not tell him about her memories of the future. She didn't know what to make of them herself. Despite being impressed with her health, Dr. Randle still gave Lindsey the rest of the day off.
At first Lindsey explored the Old Orion. It felt like returning to a childhood bedroom. There were memories connected with every place. But they were distant memories, like they had happened years ago. But some of them probably happened only a few weeks ago.
The longer Lindsey walked the corridors the more disturbing it got. Eventually, Lindsey returned to her quarters. She opened every drawer to look at her personal belongings. Some of the items she hadn't seen in years. Others she still had in the quarters she shared with Henry.
Henry? Again, Lindsey felt the pain of not being with her husband. Or her fictional husband of her fictional future. "Ahhh!" Lindsey threw a piece of clothing back in its drawer. She couldn't live like this! She had to figure it out!
But how could she prove her memories of the future were real. Lindsey paused, then spoke. "Computer, search for Starfleet officer Henry Hickensen."
"Henry Hickensen is a lieutenant junior grade. He is currently assigned to the USS Galaxy."
"Right, Henry did serve on the Galaxy." The Galaxy was novel in that it was the first of its class, but other than during the Dominion War it didn't venture far from the Sol System. Who else could Lindsey try? "Computer, how about Ser'rek Thrim?"
"Ser'rek Thrim is a Lieutenant Commander. He is currently unassigned."
"Was he ever a full commander? And what was his highest position?"
"Ser'rek Thrim was a Commander when he was the first officer of the USS Woodrow Wilson."
"What happened to the Wilson?"
"The Woodrow Wilson was damaged beyond repair during the Dominion War."
Lindsey nodded her head. That agreed with her memory. "Computer, look up Selina Chaput."
"Selina Chaput is a second year academy student."
"How about Alivia O'Hara?"
"Alivia O'Hara is a lieutenant junior grade. Her current assignment is on…"
"Computer," interrupted Lindsey. "Where did O'Hara grow up, and what species is she?"
"Alivia O'Hara grew up near Dublin, Ireland. She is an Orion female."
Lindsey sat on her bed. There was no way that she could have imagined Alivia O'Hara's backstory. And she had never heard of the woman until she was looking at her résumé and application for the chief engineer's position of the Orion-A. But that hadn't happened yet in this time. Lindsey's memories were real!
But that also meant that her memories of the Beta-Gamma tragedy were real! "Computer, what is the stardate?"
"The stardate is 54734.4." The Orion would be attacked by Romulans on stardate 57013.3. In less than three years from now, Capt. Taylor, Cmdr. Gonzalez, Lt. Cmdr. Jones, Lt. Cmdr. MacDonald would all be dead. One hundred and thirty-six crewmen would die on that day and the days to follow. Twenty-seven of those would die while Lindsey was acting captain. Many of them were Lindsey's friends and mentors. And above all there was Capt. Taylor. She was Lindsey's greatest mentor. Lindsey would do almost anything to get her beloved Captain back.
But Lindsey wouldn't have to do much at all. She could save her Captain's life with a simple message. Lindsey could even enter it into the computer. She could program it to be presented to Capt. Taylor the day of the attack. She could provide enough details that Capt. Taylor would believe her. Lindsey could tell Capt. Taylor the exact time of the attack and the relative location of the cloaked Romulan warbird.
Lindsey could save Capt. Taylor's life!
Lindsey took in several breaths as she processed the information. It was overwhelming. She could undo the worse day of her life. But if she did, she would never become the acting captain of the Orion. The Orion-A, her ship, would be commissioned under a different name, and she would not be the captain.
Lindsey shook her head. She could live with that. She shouldn't be greedy. She knew she had what it takes to become a captain. She would just have to pursue it the long way. She could work her way up the ranks. Maybe she would even become a better captain. And she could work alongside Henry as she went. They could restart their romance. And the awkward situation of Lindsey being Henry's commanding officer would be avoided. Maybe they would even get married sooner than they did in Lindsey's memories.
Or would they? Lindsey and Henry had bonded when they had become acting captain and acting first officer. The tragedy of the Orion had linked them together. Without that would they ever get married? And what of their daughter, Theresa?
Theresa! Lindsey's heart melted at the thought of her daughter, or rather her future daughter, a daughter that might never be if Lindsey changed the timeline. She could have other children, but would any of them be her Theresa? Was Theresa's existence dependent upon the exact circumstances of her and Henry's relationship? Would even the slightest change prevent Theresa from existing?
Was that selfish of Lindsey to think this way? She had the chance to save one hundred and thirty-six lives. Could she pass up that opportunity in order to have her husband and daughter the way she remembered them?
But it wasn't just them. What about Johnathan and Selina? Would they ever get together if the events of the Orion tragedy didn't bind them together? And would they have their son Thomas? How about Frank and Alivia? If the Orion-A was never launched and Alivia didn't become its chief engineer, those two would have never met. Or what about Ser'rek Thrim? When Lindsey first met him, he was on a path of self-destructive revenge. Also, he was working with Section 31 to start a war between the Federation and Romulus. What if Lindsey wasn't there to do her part in preventing that war? Or what if the Orion-A didn't travel into Romulan space to stop the Borg there? What if Lindsey wasn't at those events? Would others handle them better than she?
It was too much to think about! Lindsey couldn't process it all. Now she was beginning to understand Starfleet's Temporal Displacement Policy, a sort of temporal version of the Prime Directive. Lindsey could not possibly comprehend the outcome if she changed the past. She did know the outcome of her current timeline. She couldn't sacrifice a known future for an unknown one. Therefore, she shouldn't change the past.
But she couldn't ignore the lives she could save, could she? And if there was no way for her to return to her present, would she be forced to live her life as exactly as possible to the way she did it before. Was that even possible given her knowledge of the future?
Lindsey's stomach growled. "Computer, what time is it?"
"The time is 1033 hours." It was too early for lunch, but Lindsey had been up since 0300. She was hungry, and she didn't want to keep thinking about these things on an empty stomach. So, Lindsey left her room for the mess hall.
"There is quite a history of brain trauma in the patient," said Dr. Bashir. "But this work to mend the damage of the concussion and brain hemorrhage is very well done."
Dr. Crusher accepted the compliment. "Thank you, Doctor. Dr. Randle and I spent several hours in surgery." Beverly continued to search through Lindsey Lander's medical history.
"I imagine she could function at full compacity," said Bashir. "Almost as if the trauma never happened."
"The patient did complain about occasional headaches," said Dr. Ghosh.
"Yeah, she got them every now and again," said the patient's husband, Cmdr. Hickensen. "Once a month, I think. Although it could have been more frequent. She doesn't always tell me about them."
"Predictably illogical of the Captain," said Cmdr. T'Sel. As the Orion's science officer, she was working alongside the doctors. "I have observed that the Captain rarely allows others to carry her burdens."
Dr. Crusher set down her data pad and looked at the neural scans again. "This is odd. Doctor, do you see any signs of past neural infections, viral or otherwise?"
"No, not that I've seen," said Dr. Bashir.
"Yet here on her record it says that Capt. Lander had Beta-meningitis. She spent several days in sickbay on the old Orion about seven years ago."
"She never told me about that," said Cmdr. Hickensen.
"And I see no signs of it on her neural scans," said Beverly.
"Perhaps the damage from the concussion and its repair masked any signs of the disease," suggested Dr. Ghosh.
"No, there still should be some lingering signs," said Bashir as he took a closer look at the scans.
"What is Beta-meningitis?" asked Hickensen.
"It's similar to forms of meningitis found on Earth," said Dr. Crusher. "It caused by a particularly nasty virus found on Betazed. It causes inflammation and swelling in the brain which can be lethal. It is easy enough to detect in Betazoids, since its first symptom is an interruption in their telepathic abilities. But for non-telepaths it can go undetected until it is nearly too late."
"What would the symptoms be?" asked Hickensen.
"Headaches, dizziness, and spontaneous loss of consciousness," answered Dr. Bashir.
"Sounds like Lindsey's symptoms," noted Cmdr. Hickensen. "Is that what we are dealing with here? A resurgence of an old virus?"
"No," said Dr. Ghosh. "One of the first things I did was check for such things. There is no inflammation in the Captain's brain nor the presence of any virus, bacteria, or other infections."
"Besides, these neural readings don't correspond with any known virus or infection," said Dr. Crusher.
"They don't correspond with any known condition," said Dr. Bashir. "At least not one I'm familiar with."
Beverly tapped her datapad against her palm as she looked at Capt. Lander. "This does vaguely remind me of another case." Beverly turned to the computer screen. "Computer, display medical history Picard, Jean-Luc." The computer beeped and displayed Jean-Luc's medical history. Beverly moved her finger down the list as she searched for the right entry. "There, this one. Computer, display medical file stardate: 45944.1."
Dr. Bashir looked at the file. It took him only seconds to scan it and say, "Fascinating." Apparently, quick processing was part of his genetic enhancements.
T'Sel wasn't far behind the genetically enhanced doctor. "Fascinating indeed."
Bashir continued. "I see the similarities. But the details don't line up. Picard and Lander both have heighten neurotransmitter production, but that doesn't make them the same."
"I was afraid of that," said Beverly. She was only now catching up with Dr. Bashir's read. "The two cases are too divergent to make the same diagnosis."
"But they are similar," countered T'Sel. "Perhaps they have a similar cause."
"Hello?" Cmdr. Hickensen waved his hand. "Care to let the rest of us in on the conversation?"
Beverly turned to the patient's husband. "About fifteen years ago, the Enterprise-D encountered an alien probe that was launch a thousand years in the past from a dying planet. It scanned us, and it directed a particle beam at Capt. Picard. This caused him to pass out on the bridge. The probe delivered to Capt. Picard the memories of one of its creators. He experienced them as if they were his own memories. Capt. Picard lived almost an entire lifetime as this person."
"How did you stop it?" asked Hickensen.
"We didn't," answered Beverly. "The probe played out that man's entire lifetime up till the launch of the probe. Then it simply shut down, and Capt. Picard returned to normal."
"How long was Capt. Picard unconscious?" asked Hickensen.
Beverly cringed, knowing Capt. Lander's husband was not going to like the answer. "No more than twenty-five minutes."
"Twenty-five minutes!" exclaimed Cmdr. Hickensen just below a shout. "Lindsey has been unconscious for nearly twenty-five hours!"
"Unresponsive," corrected Dr. Bashir. "Unresponsive is the better term…" Bashir stopped talking as Hickensen delivered an angry glare his way.
"You mentioned a particle beam," said T'Sel. "What kind of particle beam?"
"A nucleonic," said Beverly. "Here is Data's…" Beverly paused in memory of her lost android friend. She made a mental note to be more sympathetic when mentioning Dr. Randle to the Orion crew. "Here is Cmdr. Data's analysis. To my knowledge there isn't anything like it in Starfleet's database."
T'Sel copied the information to her science database. "I will look into it, nonetheless. However, given the unknown condition of the Captain, I believed it is logical to begin with what information we have." The Vulcan woman tapped her commbadge. "Ens. Rikka. I have loaded new information on the science database of a previous event vaguely similar to the Captain's condition. I want you to scan for any particle beam or any other type of communication or interference from the anomaly that may be affecting Capt. Lander."
The young officer's voice replied. "Yes, Commander."
"In the meantime, we can scan from here," said Dr. Bashir. Beverly gave him a nod as she pulled out her tricorder.
Rikka Samae sat at one of the science stations that lined the back wall of the bridge. She didn't spend a lot of time on the bridge, being merely an ensign in the science department. But right now wasn't the time to marvel at the opportunity. She turned and faced the tactical/operations console that was built into the railing above the command chairs. There stood Lt. Melinda Vibee and Chief Petty Officer Shelton. Samae asked, "Anything yet?"
"No," answered Vibee. "We haven't detected any nucleonic particle emissions like those the Enterprise encountered." Vibee turned to Samae. "What should we look for next?"
"I'm not sure. We're going to have to guess until we find something." Samae paused for thought. "The Captain is suffering from excessive synaptic activity. Perhaps try electrical signals like those in the human brain."
"Which are?" asked Vibee.
Samae stood from her chair and joined the two engineers at the tactical station. Chief Shelton allowed Samae access to the sensor panel. "These are the typical synaptic electrical signals of the human brain." Samae entered the information into the sensors.
Chief Shelton retook his position. "Commencing scan." All three of them looked at the results. "I do not believe these results indicate any concentration of electric signals."
"I agree," said Samae.
"How about E-Band emissions?" asked Vibee
"Like those from a collapsing proto-star?" responded Shelton with another question.
"E-Band signals are similar to human neural frequencies," agreed Samae.
"That's farfetched," said Shelton.
"If you do have a better idea, you can tell us while the scan is running," said Vibee. "Go ahead, Chief."
"Scan commencing." There was a long pause before Shelton responded. "No E-Band emissions."
"How about anionic energy?" asked Samae. "In my research for a private project I read something about non-corporeal prisoners existing as anionic energy. They telepathically took over three members of the Enterprise's crew."
"Why not?" said Shelton as he started the scan. "Sorry, no anions. Next?" Samae shrugged her shoulders.
A beeping came from the tactical console. "Hold on, I've got something," said Shelton.
"Anions?" asked Samae.
"No, some sort of energy field," said Shelton. "I reprogrammed the navigational sensors to cycle through different energy frequencies originating from the anomaly. This is not like any energy field I've seen before. I need to calibrate the sensors for a clearer scan." There was a momentary pause. "Oh, we definitely have something."
"Something enough to merit the Commander's presence?" asked Lt. Johnathan Mikkelson who was currently in command of the bridge."
"Yes, Sir."
"Cmdr. Thrim to the bridge," said Johnathan.
A few minutes later the Andorian first officer arrived. "Report."
Shelton answered. "Sir, we have detected an energy field originating in the anomaly."
"Originating? Where does it terminate?" asked Thrim.
"Somewhere on the Orion, Sir," answered Shelton. "I am modifying the internal sensors to localize."
"Do it," said Cmdr. Thrim.
"The terminus of the energy field is…" Shelton looked up at the Commander. "It's sickbay, Sir."
"Chief, program me a tricorder," said Samae. "We can use that to confirm our suspicions."
"What suspicions would that be, Ensign?" asked Cmdr. Thrim.
"That the terminus of this energy field is the Captain."
Lindsey's plan to sit by herself was interrupted when Frank entered the mess hall. He stepped towards Lindsey's table, then he hesitated. Then, as if he had worked up the courage, he approached. "Lieutenant, may I join you?"
"Of course, Frank," said Lindsey. She didn't want to draw attention to the awkwardness of Frank's interest in her. Not with all that was on her mind.
"Good," said Frank. "You're eating early."
"I got up early, as you know. Plus, after that workout, I've got an appetite." It was partly true. Lindsey was hungry, but she didn't crave any food. Once again, she was preoccupied by her thoughts.
Chef arrived with a large serving tray. Lindsey's meal was cheese ravioli and a salad. Frank had chicken and broccoli. A third meal was on the tray, an Andorian sea trout, grilled and seasoned. Chef took the third meal in his hand and asked. "May I join as well?"
Lindsey extended her hand towards the empty seat. "Please, Chef. We would be delighted." Lindsey knew since she was temporally displaced that she should limit her contact with people of the past. But she needed her friends at this moment. In addition, it was good that she had a third person to prevent Frank from making a romantic inquiry. Frank himself seemed to be relieved. It was so very strange for Lindsey to see this side of Frank. Was he always this way around her during this time period? Did Lindsey just never notice it?
"Are you feeling better?" asked Chef, as they were all eating their lunch.
"Yes and no," answered Lindsey. "I feel physically fine. In fact, I feel more than fine. I feel great. But mentally I am out of sorts."
"How so?" asked Chef.
"Like getting lost on my way to my quarters last night," said Lindsey.
"Really?" The was a note of concern in Chef's voice.
"Yeah," replied Frank. "I was on security duty when I found her on the wrong deck."
"Did you tell Dr. Randle about it?" asked Chef.
"Yes, he noted it. He gave me the day off and asked me to monitor it."
"And…?"
"And what?"
"Have you been monitoring it? And how have you been today?"
"Nothing as bad as yesterday," said Lindsey. True, she wasn't disorientated any more. But she still was wrestling mentally with temporal mechanics, not to mention the ethical dilemma she found herself in.
"That's good," said Frank. "I'm sure the Captain could use you back. With the Orion's engineers and scientists stretched thin studying this anomaly."
"Anomaly?!" asked Lindsey. "What anomaly?"
"The one we came across yesterday," said Frank. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew. You were on the bridge when we encountered it."
"I was on the bridge when we encountered an anomaly?" Lindsey remembered it, but that was a memory of future Lindsey, on the bridge of the Orion-A, was it?
"That's when you passed out," said Frank.
Lindsey looked at Chef for confirmation, but he shook his head. "Don't look at me. I just cook the food."
"I passed out on the bridge as we approached an anomaly?" Lindsey asked Frank. He nodded slowly. "What station was I at?"
"I don't know. I'm not a bridge officer. I wasn't there."
"Are we still near the anomaly?"
"Yes. I believe we are holding position," answered Frank.
"Who's been assigned to study it?"
"Ah, our scientists, but you know that the Orion doesn't have much of a science department. Engineering is working with the sensors. And the bridge is dedicating much of its time to the matter. They are really not telling me or anyone else in security much about this."
"I understand. Thank you, Frank." Lindsey shoveled the rest of her pasta into her mouth. She washed it down with water.
"Easy there," said Chef. "What's the hurry?"
"I want to learn more about the anomaly," said Lindsey as she stabbed at her salad and took a big mouthful.
"It can't wait until after lunch?"
"I'm sorry," said Lindsey after she chewed and swallowed her mouthful of salad. "It can wait." Lindsey forced herself to eat slower. Conversation was limited after that. When Lindsey finished her food, she excused herself.
Cmdr. Thrim followed the Bajoran scientist, Ens. Rikka, to sickbay. She held in her hand a tricorder. When they arrived, the doctors made room around Capt. Lander's biobed. Ens. Rikka ran the tricorder over the Captain's body, especially her head. "Commander, I can confirm…Wait, that's not right."
"What's not right?" asked Henry Hickensen as a concerned husband.
"We've been tracking an energy field from the anomaly. I suspected that the terminus of the stream would be here with Capt. Lander."
"And it is not?" asked Thrim.
"I'm not sure," said the Ensign. "Commander, take a look." Rikka waved T'Sel over to her tricorder.
The Vulcan scientist looked. "Fascinating. Doctors?"
Both Drs. Crusher and Bashir came over as well. "Well, that's different," said Bashir.
"I've never seen an energy field directed in this way," added Crusher.
"Will someone tell me what's going on?" asked Henry.
Thrim agreed, "I would like to know, as well."
"Take a look," said Rikka.
"Ensign, don't show me tricorder readings," said Henry. "I won't know heads from tails. Just tell me."
Rikka explained. "I came here expecting to find the terminus of an energy field. However, it now seems that the field is more dynamic than I thought."
"How so?" asked Henry, a touch of impatience in his voice.
"This tricorder is saying that the energy field has a dual-origin."
"What do that mean?" asked Thrim.
To Thrim's relief, Dr. Crusher answered. "It means that there is a two-way connection between Capt. Lander and the anomaly. The energy in the field is both coming to and originating from Capt. Lander. At one moment the direction appears to be from the anomaly to the Captain, the next from the Captain to the anomaly. The tricorder simply cannot make sense of it."
"And what does that mean?" asked Thrim.
Dr. Bashir answered, "I'm not sure. But I can tell you that the dynamic between the anomaly and your captain is far more complex than we thought. The anomaly is not merely imposing on your captain. It is also receiving from her."
"Receiving what?" asked Henry.
Ens. Rikka answered, "We don't know."
Lindsey walked from the mess hall to the off-duty lounge. The lounge had large windows that allowed Lindsey to see into space. She looked out the window.
There was the anomaly! It was hard to see, but Lindsey could make out the lines. It was the same anomaly from the Orion-A in the future. Did that mean that the anomaly was the cause of her temporal displacement? Did this anomaly cause her to pass out on of the bridge of both Orion's? And if her future mind was in her past body, what about her past mind and her future body?
As Lindsey stared at the anomaly, she felt a pain. It was an aching pain. It took a while for Lindsey to realize that the pain wasn't hers. She looked out at the anomaly.
Was it alive?