June 26, 2402

Starbase 47, alternate timeline

Now that he knew what to expect, Tom felt the transition when the shuttle passed the barrier. It seemed to squeeze his consciousness, narrow it to a tunnel, and then expand it once again. He had traveled across two barriers of reality and now into the future as well. Miral had minimized the risk of temporal psychosis whenever he had tried to ask her about it. Was this how it started? He knew, from past explanations, it didn't take that many jumps before problems could occur. He stole a glance at T'Lassa, who seemed less affected, but not unaffected. Her complexion had paled to a much lighter green and she looked uneasy, as strange as that sounded when he thought it.

As Vulcan as she was, Tom had always been able to read her fairly well. Her human heritage did exert itself more in her than in any other Vulcan with human ancestors he had ever encountered.

"I want to explain my…plan, before we try to dock with the station, before we are even in range. If that's ok," Miral told them, turning to look at her father and glancing over her shoulder at T'Lassa.

"You're in charge, Miral. Tell us the plan," Tom told her.

"We're here because this is the safest place, the farthest point in the future that it was safe to take you both. The sphere builders were meddling in your reality, Dad, so they are otherwise occupied. They will come looking, once they sense the disturbance in the timestream. I don't know how long we have, so we have to move quickly. The three of us, and Aaron," she said, her voice dropping an octave when she said his name, knowing of the effect that it would have on the Vulcan, "need to use the technology I have to find the alterations that were made….why all of this was engineered the way it was."

She turned, setting her gaze on the stars in front of them. "I know how difficult it's going to be for him, to see you both again…like this. I know it's difficult for you both, too. I wish there was some way I could mitigate it, but I can't. I'm sorry," she apologized.

"What about your mother?" Tom asked her, paling as he did so.

Miral never turned back to him, but he watched her jaw set like stone as she clenched her teeth. "She lives here, on the station. But she's on permanent medical leave with Starfleet. She can't help herself, let alone us." She bowed her head over the console. "You both need to interact with Aaron. I will convince him it's best to keep your presence a secret from her, at all costs."

Tom closed his eyes, shaking off the wave of sadness that seemed to be drowning him as he thought of her, here alone, in so much pain. Pain that he could do nothing about, other than ensure this timeline was not allowed to exist, wipe them all from history. He nodded in agreement with her.

"I'm going to beam you both to my quarters. I can disable the shield and the sensors for the split second I would need to do that," she explained. She sighed, realizing now was the time she needed to tell them the dynamic in this timeline. "I serve on board the Yorktown as the Assistant Chief Engineer," Miral told them. "But I live here, when I'm off duty. This is where I come when I'm on leave. Aaron runs the station. T'Mira lives here with him. Commander Baytard is the first officer. Counselor Harkins is still here, and her husband is the chief engineer. Leila lives on Earth. No one else served here before the explosion. Everyone else was reassigned."

"What about Dr. Conlin?" Tom asked.

"He was killed in the same explosion that killed Dr. T'Lassa," Miral said softly. "Our chief medical officer is Dr. Tran Nguyen."

Tom stood, pulling T'Lassa to her feet and moving toward the back of the craft towards the transporter pad. "We'll be waiting for you there," he said, giving her a reassuring nod.

She adjusted the security settings, then activated the controls for the transporter. Now the hard part begins, she thought to herself.

}LS{

"Commander, Miral Paris is requesting permission to dock with the station," Ensign Shren said as she turned from the communications panel to the command seat in Ops. Her statement was factual, but her voice rose at the end of the sentence, indicating her questioning as to why that was so. Miral was not due home. The Yorktown was on a deep space assignment. She wasn't due home for another five months.

Frowning, Aaron toggled the communication button on the panel in front of him. "Michaels to Paris," he called.

"Paris here," she said crisply over the comm.

"Miral, what are you doing here?" he asked, hesitantly, wondering if it was wise on an open commlink.

"I'll explain when I see you, Commander," she replied, all business. "It's a…long story." More tenderly, she added, "It's nice to hear your voice again, Aaron. I missed you."

His stoic face fractured just for a second, giving way to a lopsided, toothless grin. "Same here," he added softly. He cut the connection, motioning with his hand to Shren to continue with the docking procedures as necessary.

He stood. "Shren, you have Ops. I'm on my way to Docking Bay 12 to greet our prodigal daughter. I'll be back soon."

He was on his way out when he felt slightly dizzy, the briefest hint of a headache starting to tick behind his temples. It was strange, but he didn't have time to worry about it now. He made a mental note to get himself checked out later.

}LS{

Aaron was surprised when, the moment the airlock irised open, Miral jumped over the lip on the door and launched herself straight into his arms. "Hey," he said, gently laughing, patting her back, surprised by the rush of affection.

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping back from him. "I just…missed you, that's all."

"Talking about missing, T'Mira will be thrilled that you're here. Let me call her–" He reached for his combadge, but she grabbed his wrist in mid-motion, making him stop his forward motion. "What?" he asked.

"I need to talk to you first. Right now. I have something…very strange, hard to believe, that I need to tell you. I need you to listen," she said intently. "The Yorktown doesn't know I'm here. I don't know what they think, actually, but they must know that I'm not on board any longer."

His eyes narrowed as he regarded her, his brain leaping ahead of her words. "How did you get here, then? You have a shuttle…"

She started walking, the pathway to her quarters familiar. He spun on his heel to follow her. "The registry on the shuttle is fake. I was…translocated…somehow. Removed from my reality by a temporal agent from the 29th century. The same man who contacted Jonathan Archer during his mission on the NX-01, with T'Pol. Daniels was his name."

Aaron forced his mouth closed, realizing it was hanging slightly open in amazement as he listened to her words. "Wh…what? I remember…some…vague stuff, but you're going to have to–"

"Just walk with me, ok, Commander?" she asked, using his rank to raise it to a professional level. She needed his help. She had to tell him everything, in a relatively short period of time. She waited until several crew members cleared the area before she started talking to him as they walked.

"The explosion that destroyed the station? That was a temporal incursion, like the Xindi attack on earth was in 2153. What that means is that factions in the future have been manipulating the timeline for their benefit. A race of beings known as the sphere builders can see divergent timelines all at the same time. They manipulate events for their desired outcome. The station being destroyed, with the casualties recorded, serves their purpose in the future. Somehow, by causing that accident, they have now assured they will defeat the Federation in the 26th century, and the Federation will fall. Daniels sent me here to find out what exactly those events prevented from transpiring," she concluded, realizing she had spoken very quickly, and though he was highly intelligent and able to process information alarmingly fast, she had probably overwhelmed him.

He looked shocked, slightly pale, absolutely bewildered. But he followed what she was saying. "So that…that accident…was never supposed to happen?" he asked.

She breathed out a shaky sigh of relief, amazed at how easily he had absorbed all of that, and then processed it systematically. "No, Aaron," she reiterated. "We have to figure out why, so we can reverse that timeline, before history records it."

That took longer to process. His eyes widened as the consequences of her words hit him. "We can…undo that? All of that?"

"That's my ultimate goal. And I need your help. My father and T'Lassa were the targets. There isn't a timeline that exists where they both survived. There was only one timeline where my father survived. Only one where she did," she further explained.

He was still dazed, but he shook his head, coming to terms with her explanation. "What do you need me to do?" he asked. They paused, only a few feet from the door to Miral's quarters. Here goes, she thought.

"First, I need you to listen to me. I have technology provided to me that allows me to transverse different timelines. I retrieved both my father and T'Lassa from their individual timelines, to bring them here. That's what Daniels told me to do," she said, slowing down the cadence of her speech as she knew how shocking her words were.

He staggered on his feet, grasping at the wall to keep himself upright. "How…how…" His throat was suddenly dry, so dry it felt on fire when he spoke.

"They're in my quarters," she said, gesturing towards the door. "From 16 years in the past, according to this current time. And Aaron," she added, her voice almost breaking, "in both of their timelines, you died in or near the time of the explosion. Those people in there haven't seen you, or a version of you, in just as long as you haven't seen them."

She saw him visibly shaking, unable to hold himself together behind the calm, emotionless mask he always wore. She reached for him, holding him by his elbow, lending him all of her physical strength while he got his bearings. "I'm right here, Aaron," she said gently. "It's going to be ok. I promise."

"Did they…did she…I…" he stammered.

Miral knew what he was asking. "They were never together in her timeline. He died before she told him how she felt. But she did love him…you know, you. You should know that there was no timeline I have encountered where she didn't love you."

It seemed strange when she said it out loud, but it was true. Of all the comparisons and contrasts she had done, that was the one constant in every single timeline. T'Lassa's love for Aaron. That couldn't be a coincidence, she thought.

}LS{

"Captain, your pacing is…distracting…and aimless," T'Lassa reproached him.

"You may have better control over your emotions, but you can't tell me you aren't…anxious…or whatever…about all of this," he replied.

"I am quite…concerned about this turn of events, but pacing is a waste of energy," she told him from her seat in the desk chair behind him.

He paused as he heard the beep at the door indicating someone was about to enter. He turned as the door swished to the side, revealing his daughter standing in the doorway. He could tell from her face, she was fighting with enormous strength to stay neutral and not let her emotions show. She reached beside her, grabbing an arm and pulling her companion with her through the door.

Tom felt the air rush out of his lungs, and he couldn't find the strength to fill them back up with air. He felt dizzy, like his head was a balloon and rising up off his shoulders. For the first time in over eight months, he gazed upon his friend, or someone who could have been his friend, 16 years longer than he had lived. Aaron's dark hair was all white, now a shocking contrast to his olive skin and pale blue eyes. His overall physique was the same. From the distance where he was standing, the now visible fine lines around his eyes and across his forehead were pronounced. "It's good to see you, my friend," Tom said, his voice barely audible.

Aaron was mute, stunned. He stood there, unblinking, not a single word able to be formed inside his mouth. His breath shuddered in and out, the air in between them charged as if with electricity. Without another word, Tom stepped aside, to put T'Lassa in full view of him.

Her petite frame looked even tinier, curled forward, hunched in the chair, almost folded in on herself. She turned her face upward, her blue eyes piercing him, almost straight through to his soul. Aaron shifted his eyes to meet hers, a single tear streaking down each of his cheeks. "Las," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"It is good to see you well, Commander," T'Lassa replied, in the calmest and coolest Vulcan tone she knew how to make. Being who she was, T'Lassa had never heard Aaron call her by that name before. She had stressed his title, trying to emphasize in the best way possible the difference between them. Their status.

He shook himself out of his fixation, as if he was waking from a dream. "I'm…I'm sorry…I…" he stammered awkwardly.

"It's fine," she replied gently. "My counterpart was your…your mate," she said, reminding herself even as she explained to him.

"She was my wife. We were bonded," he whispered. "T'Mira–"

Miral stepped up, touching Aaron's arm. She muttered to him, almost under her breath, "She shouldn't be made aware of this, not unless it's absolutely necessary. It's too…painful."

"I agree," T'Lassa concurred.

"Wait," Tom interrupted. "Why shouldn't she see her mother?" he asked. "This isn't permanent, us staying here, right?" He looked back and forth amongst them. "She's her mother. Or she could have been."

Miral spoke into the heavy silence. "I know this is…strange…but we have to start working. We have to at least start."

"Won't your mother know you're here? They heard you in Ops," Tom told her.

Miral crossed her arms, leveling her gaze defiantly at her father. "I doubt she'll know. Or she'll care," she said.

Aaron turned eyes full of sympathy towards Tom. He didn't say anything. There was nothing else he could say. The strangeness of it all perpetuated his being. He flashed back, helpless to stop it.

June 1, 2386

Starbase 47, alternate timeline

When Aaron entered the infirmary, he could tell by her face that she had no good news to report.

"How's Commander Torres?" he asked, forcing himself to be professional, even to her, since he was now reluctantly in command.

"I believe she will recover," she answered flatly. "It was shock induced, the labor," she explained. Aaron had figured as much. "We tried to stabilize the baby, but with the power fluctuations, we were unsuccessful. He didn't survive."

He felt it like a blow to his stomach. Her husband and her baby.

"Other casualties?" he asked.

"Currently, including the Admiral, and the Paris baby, 23. I'm including Commander Paris as well." He nodded, looking away, his brain still trying to absorb that Tom was really gone. "A little over 350 wounded, very few seriously." She touched Aaron's arm, comforting. "He saved over 1000 lives, doing what he did. It doesn't make it any easier, I know, but it wasn't for nothing."

"I don't think it will make B'Elanna feel any better, but--"

"Doctor! There's an overload building in the panel behind you--" Before Aaron could even look up to see which engineer was yelling, he felt someone tackle him, plowing him into the deck. A thunderous boom deafened him, a shower of sparks and fire blasting out around him. His back felt like it was on fire, searing pain almost blacking him out. Choking on smoke, he tried to roll upwards, to see something other than the floor. A limp hand, covered in green blood, fell from his shoulder as he turned.

His blood froze, time slowing as the vista became clear. T'Lassa had knocked him to the ground, shielding him from the blast as the overload had blown out the diagnostic panel. His hand came away from her back dripping green blood. His back, the pain, had been hers, transferred to him as she lost consciousness. "I need help over here!" Aaron screamed.

Nurses and orderlies came running, pulling her up and away from him. He jumped to his feet, vaguely aware of bleeding cuts and burns on his face, choosing to ignore them. The sights of both arms soaked with her blood paralyzed him with fear. Instinctively, he searched for her presence in his mind, panicked that he couldn't sense her at all. Someone approached him; he waved them off, watching as Dr. Halil came running, nurses stepping back as he approached. Aaron knew better than to linger, interfere with their ministrations. He was only in the way. A brief glance at T'Lassa as the medics parted revealed her face so pale it looked white.

The doctor turned to him, not oblivious to the other man's presence. "I'll do everything I can, Commander." They took her away. Aaron scanned the area, covered with blackened debris and smoking components. He felt sick as he saw Dr. Conlin's body, only partially covered with a sheet. He had been caught in the blast as well.

He continued his work, fielding damage reports, directing repair crews, updating Endeavor as it approached. He was only vaguely aware of his own actions, placing one foot in front of the other by sheer force of will, uncertain how much time had passed. He did his best to not focus on her blatant absence from his mind and quelled his catastrophizing, all the while knowing if she were ok, he would feel it.

One look at the doctor's face as he emerged, what ended up being an hour later, and Aaron knew what he was coming to tell him. He grabbed onto the wall for support, feeling like his legs were going to give out. "I'm sorry, Aaron," he said gently, knowing he was addressing not just her commanding officer, but someone close, someone who loved her. "There was very little I could do. She took the brunt of the explosion."

Although he had anticipated the news, it still blasted over him like a hurricane wind. For a moment, he had the sensation that he was standing at his own shoulder, watching himself converse with the doctor, observing rather than absorbing. It had happened too fast, without the ability to process it. The two people he was closest to, both gone within hours of each other. He squeezed his hands into fists, absently noticing that his hands felt numb, without sensation. And the numbness was quickly spreading.

He hadn't realized he had started to falter until he felt Halil's hand on his bicep, straightening and steadying him. "Sit down, Commander," he said quietly.

"I need to see her, Bin. Please," he whispered. It had helped, he remembered, when Jess had died. Seeing her body grounded him, cured the haze of disbelief. Jess...now T'Lassa. The unfairness of life had made itself apparent to him plenty of times, never as profoundly as he felt now. He cursed a universe that had seen fit to give him exactly what he had wanted, but only for a little while.

The doctor nodded, never letting go of Aaron' arm, uncertain that the Commander could stand without his assistance. Halil guided him inside, to the biobed where she lay. Her body, he corrected himself, sickening. She looked only asleep, her face still beautiful, though cold as he touched her cheek. Why? Why did you do it? he asked, as he would have if she were alive, despondent at the silence that filled his brain.

He knew, of course. She had saved him, pushed him away, assuring he would survive.

"I'll take care of her, I promise," he whispered out loud, vowing to take custody of her now orphaned daughter.

His duties, the station falling apart around them, wounded piling up in every corner...all of it pulled at him, jangling his nerves. He knew when he finally had to leave here, he would never see her again, never see her beauty except in his memory. The sound of her voice, the scent of her perfume, the taste of her kiss, the feel of her hand against his skin. His eyes burned, as he blinked, and tears overflowed onto his cheeks. He couldn't break down here, like this. He forced the emotions down deep, bottling them.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. I love you, he thought silently. Always.

With every last vestige of strength he had left, he stood, and turned away.