June 26, 2402

Starbase 47, alternate timeline

Tom noticed how, no matter how hard he tried, Aaron couldn't keep focused for longer than a few seconds. His gaze kept shifting to T'Lassa, and he would visibly force himself to refocus again. It was distracting him from what Miral was saying.

"I know, in this timeline, because you stayed here with T'Mira, all of T'Lassa's personal effects were transferred to you, Aaron," Miral was saying.

"That's right," he replied. "Everything is in storage," he added, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I know it sounds…strange, that I kept everything, but T'Mira was too young to decide what she wanted and what she didn't. I thought she could do it when she was older…but it was just too difficult…and then, I just…well, it was still too difficult for both of us." He cleared his throat, straightening his features to neutral.

"So everything is here?" Miral asked expectantly, ignoring the brief flash of emotion she had seen on his face.

T'Lassa stood slowly, her eyes enormous and unblinking. "The database," she murmured, her voice just above a whisper. Everyone in the room turned to look at her.

"I don't…I don't understand," Aaron replied.

Tom was on his feet as well, suddenly intense, the strangeness of the situation slowly transforming into the normal as time progressed. "This can't be a coincidence," he said. He saw Miral's face scrunch in confusion, so he continued. Turning to Miral, he explained, "I sent all of T'Lassa's things to Vulcan with T'Mira. Does Aaron have custody of T'Lassa's personal effects in the other timelines?" he asked.

"It's complicated," Miral explained, the confusion disappearing from her face as she followed her father's train of thought. "Aaron and T'Mira survive in some, but not others. Where he survives, he holds them for her. Where he doesn't, she has them. There were several where neither one of them survived. In that instance, they are destroyed."

"T'Lassa showed me the Xindi initiation medal that was given to Jonathan Archer at the signing of the Federation Charter that Archer left to her great-grandmother. She also had copies of T'Pol's personal logs from her time on Enterprise. After T'Lassa died, I searched but I couldn't find any of that in her quarters, even though the damage to that part of the station was not that severe," Tom explained.

"The database is there," T'Lassa said, focusing everyone's attention back to her. "Everything that T'Mir had that belonged to her mother was contained there, in T'Lassa's possession. That coin wasn't the only thing Archer left T'Pol in his final will and testament. Daniels had a digital database from the 29th century that Archer referenced on more than one occasion after he believed Daniels had been killed. They kept Daniels' quarters on Enterprise locked and sealed."

Tom turned to her urgently. "Everything about Daniels and the Temporal Cold War was redacted out of Archer's official and personal logs. Janeway told me that."

"That makes sense," T'Lassa said. "But he never made mention of what technology Daniels left behind. That was never recorded anywhere. And after the Xindi mission, the ship came back to Earth literally in pieces. Nothing was ever noted anywhere in the official record. But Archer was always in possession of that technology. He was very firm with Daniels after the Xindi mission…about not wanting to be meddled with from the future any more. He was living in the moment, unable to see beyond his own day to day, which was really no fault of his own. But Daniels never took the technology back, so Archer kept it hidden." She paused, trying to say just the right thing. "There is no record of it anywhere other than T'Pol's personal logs, but Daniels was granted permission to contact T'Pol after Archer died. He gave her all of that specialized technology to safeguard."

"Why T'Pol?" Tom asked.

"I can only tell you what she hypothesized. Because at the time of Archer's death, in 2238, she was the only one left alive…and she would live for another 50 years. Vulcan caretakers ensured less points of contact. Less chance for disruption. Daniels' purpose for doing so was never something she understood, but he left explicit instructions. He knew it would be needed at some point in the future," T'Lassa explained.

"With you dead, that technology is never accessed. T'Mira was too young and her mother never got the chance to explain what it was," Tom reasoned. "T'Lassa brought up the sphere builders before Janeway read me in. She had to have known more than what she told me."

T'Lassa's eyes were bright as her mind worked. "She did. But she wasn't instructed to tell you. She was only instructed to wait." She looked straight at Miral. "Apparently, for you."

"Was that why they did what they did?" Aaron asked. "They destroyed the station to obtain the database?"

"In my timeline, it was gone," Tom told them, seeming to confirm the hypothesis.

"It is a possibility. If T'Mira had no idea what she had in her possession, she would never notice it had been stolen. Although that theory does not explain why Commander Paris' death was also crucial to their plans," T'Lassa said.

"My scanners say it's still here," Miral explained. "The sphere builders could very well be jumping across timelines to retrieve the databases. Like I said, they were concentrated in your timeline, Dad. But they'll find us eventually. We just have to hurry."

Aaron nodded dully.

She pressed on. "Daniels knew it was in your possession. That database is the only thing left that we can use to see the future before it was tampered with, provided the temporal locks are still in place."

"They should be," T'Lassa informed them. "The seal is valid for another nine hundred years."

"That's the plan, then. Retrieve the database," Miral said.

"That technology was also with me on Vulcan, Miral. Why was it necessary to bring me here to retrieve that data?" T'Lassa asked.

Miral shook her head. "I know what you're thinking. You have to understand something. Crossing the barrier between realities degrades the temporal lock. We need the one in this reality. And I need Aaron to help me decipher the data. It's future technology. I'm a good engineer, thanks to my mother, but he's better. We don't have any room for error."

"Ok," Aaron said briskly. He was more in control, less dazed than he had been, now that he had a specific task and problem to solve. "But how do we do what needs to be done hiding these two from everyone, your mother and T'Mira especially, while explaining your presence?"

"Maybe a little…out of the box thinking is required," Tom said, crossing his arms.

"I can encrypt the security logs, change the duty roster, and do whatever else I need to do to run interference. Being in command has some privileges. It's going to be hard keeping Pablo out of the loop, though," Aaron said.

"This virus," Miral said, handing Aaron an isolinear chip that she pulled from a uniform pocket. "It will give the appearance of a partial system crash. Impermeable to even a level one diagnostic. The virus interacts with the computer's memory and translates in real time. It's a complete information blackout disguised as a memory backup misalignment."

"Wow," Aaron breathed. "How do they combat that? Even in the 29th century?"

"It's better not to even think about it. Less contamination that way," Miral said.

"T'Lassa's things are in Cargo Bay Three," Aaron said. He looked at T'Lassa, his expression softening. "I'll need your help to find it."

"Of course, Commander," T'Lassa replied.

"Dad, you're going to have to stay here. I need your help loading the virus. The database has its own power supply," Miral said. She pulled out her advanced tricorder and turned to address Aaron. "I can access the station schematics, so you can keep T'Lassa out of anyone's view. You just have to explain to Commander Baytard why I'm here and what I'm doing. And what you're doing, since you left him in command."

"I'll take care of Pablo…and all the interference. We'll stop at my quarters," Aaron said.

T'Lassa followed him out into the corridor once Miral gave them the all clear.

}LS{

Aaron's headache and dizziness were still troubling him, although he knew he didn't have time to worry about going to the Infirmary now. The scent of T'Lassa's perfume, the same from long ago in his memory, swirled around him as he walked and seemed to only exacerbate the sensation. The silence between them was awkward, tense, making him feel like he was walking through water instead of air.

She broke the silence, her voice soft and low. "I know this is…troubling…for you. But I want you to know, she would have been very proud of what you have done, helping to raise her daughter."

He smiled in his sadness. "In the end, it was the only thing left I could do for her. She sacrificed herself for me. I owed her the best of what my life could be."

It took a moment for Aaron to realize she had not kept up with him. He turned to see her, leaning against the wall. His words had overwhelmed her. He knew that just by her face. He had to tell himself forcefully that though he knew this, this woman was still not his wife. Just someone she could have been, or would have been had he never offered to help her. He didn't say anything, just waited for her to pull herself together. But he couldn't resist asking one burning question.

"This might be…inappropriate. And if it is, please, just…slap me across the face and pretend like I didn't say it. But…if the timeline diverged at the explosion, then you…I mean, your…" He fumbled over the words, not sure how to continue explaining. "Pon farr," he said, lowering his voice as if it were a secret, though no one else was in ear shot.

She did look vaguely uncomfortable, and shifted her eyes to the deck. "It resolved on its own," she whispered.

The confusion contorted his face. "You were dying," he stressed.

"I am not fully Vulcan, and the nature of female pon farr is different, especially considering my husband was human. I had no way of knowing it wouldn't kill me, but I never told anyone what was really wrong with me. The fever lasted for two days, but then it subsided," she explained.

"Wait," he interjected. "That was two days before the explosion." He paused as his brain tumbled over the thought. "If the true point of divergence was the explosion, wouldn't all of the time before have been identical? In theory anyway?" he asked.

One of her eyebrows lifted up as she contemplated his theory. "You seem to be correct, Commander. We must alert Miral. However, retrieving the database is still the priority and the point of this excursion."

"Right," he said, and continued walking to his quarters.

"Are you…managing your…condition?" she asked generically.

His voice was low and rumbled inside his chest as he spoke. "I am. My last incidence…was in 2386. The relapse that she knew about." She heard him swallow. "I was never so tempted to…after she died. But I had T'Mira to take care of. I had to stay in one piece. I meditated every night. I still do." He ended with a whisper, "She taught me that."

"That is very good to know," she replied, the gentlest wisp of a smile visible through her otherwise Vulcan demeanor.

Like a whisper, or breeze, he felt it, inside his head, like a feather would feel as it fluttered inside his brain. Relief. He sensed it, felt it, remembered it. He stopped his forward motion as he realized why he remembered it. It was her, T'Lassa's emotion… her relief that he was well…and he could sense it.

Did I just imagine it? he thought. He blinked rapidly several times, attempting to clear his head and focus on what he needed to do. He didn't say anything.

He opened the door to his quarters, stepping aside slightly to allow her entry before him. It was a familiar gesture, something she had been unconsciously expecting. The fulfillment of the expectation stabbed through her insides. Being inside his quarters compounded the feeling, as she felt suddenly inundated with…him.

Vulcan females had a stronger sense of smell than humans, and though T'Lassa was part human, she was still affected by this phenomenon. Everything inside here smelled like him. For her, that was memories of sitting with him and sharing meals or sitting in his quarters meditating. Calling him sometimes needlessly to the Infirmary to solve a simple engineering problem an entry level technician could have solved. It was subtle, musky and woodsy, and always brought forth the desire to be closer, so she could absorb more of it.

His quarters in this timeline were different. She reminded herself that this was the future, and he lived with her adult daughter. Before, he had minimal adornments on display, with very spartan rooms, almost without personality, like guest quarters. It had always made her sad when she had been there, wishing his life had been fuller and less painful. Now, he had plants and holo photos on multiple shelves…pillows on his sofa, decorations on his coffee table. It felt like a home, and not just his quarters.

She heard him moving behind her, opening the computer panel on the wall, setting the outer panel on the floor as he started working inside the unit. She turned quickly, unaware of how full her eyes had become as she regarded it all. He was working, never completely stopping, but he turned quickly to look at her over his shoulder, feeling her staring at him. "Is everything ok?" he asked, a little unsure of himself.

"I've been trying to figure out…why it could possibly make a difference to the timeline…if we had intercourse or not," she said bluntly, ignoring the tears accumulating in her eyes.

He stopped working. She watched his hands curl into tight balls. "We…never did," he stressed, reminding her that despite the similarities, they were not the same people each one was remembering.

She blinked hard. "I misspoke," she said quickly. "Why Aaron and T'Lassa did or not."

"You weren't bonded to him," he said very softly, so softly she had to strain to hear. He started working again, needing the distraction of working to disguise the trembling in his hands. "That might be more significant."

"What is the distinction? You're human," she replied matter-of-factly.

He stopped working again, but never turned around. "It runs in your family, doesn't it?" he asked. "Being able to link with a human?"

"Minimally, but—"

"Maybe not with Tim," he said, forcing out his breath over the tightness in his chest. "But she could with me."

Like this?

He heard her voice in his head. He dropped his tools and they clattered on the floor.

She wasn't sure it had worked until she saw him turn, his eyes wide and full of tears. "How…". It was a hoarse whisper, and he choked on it.

Her first instinct was to reply using her telepathy, but she refrained. She was testing it, once she knew that strange tickle inside her brain was actually Aaron's thoughts. Invading his mind that way was wrong, too intimate for their situation, and she was appalled at her own actions.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, flushing a darker shade of green in her embarrassment. "That was not appropriate, under any circumstances."

"How were you able to do that?" he asked, his voice a little louder.

She collected herself, thinking before she answered him. "I'm not certain, but it would make sense. The phase variance between her and me is negligible. We still project thought on the same wavelength. A wavelength your brain was altered to receive."

He shook himself out of that reverie and spun back to finish his work inside the computer panel. It was easier to talk with his back to her. "I don't think I realized how much I missed…feeling it…until you just did that," he murmured.

He reached down for the displaced panel, picked it up, and set it back into place. "I added layers of encryption and rerouted almost all the data flow to protect what we're doing. We should have until the change of shift before anyone starts to question."

"The virus Miral explained will potentially prolong that time frame," she added. "Your sole problem remains station personnel."

As if in response to her words, he tapped his combadge. "Michaels to Baytard," he said softly.

"Go ahead, Commander," Baytard's voice projected into the room.

"I'm…in the process of helping Miral…look for something," he said, shrugging and gesturing with his hands to T'Lassa, needing some encouragement to lie to his second in command. "Any issues to report?"

"No, Commander. You're good to the end of the shift if need be. We'll call if something goes awry. Happy hunting," Baytard said, a comic lilt to his voice.

"Thanks, Pablo. Michaels out," he said crisply, and closed the connection. He stood, rising to his full height in front of her. He gazed down at her through his eyelashes. "Cargo Bay Three," he said, more slowly than he had intended, unable to pull his eyes away from hers.

Can you hear me? He reached out, like he had always done before with his wife.

Yes. Her voice again, only this time there was an edge to it, an emotion barely contained behind it. "Commander…" She said it out loud, trying to warn him, trying to redirect it to the professional level.

You apologized…but you want this. You want to hear my thoughts and…feel my emotions. I can sense it, no matter how much you try to shield me.

She couldn't deny it. He was right. She knew about how limited for time they were, how dangerous it was, the chance that she would be discovered, all of it…and then nothing mattered at all but what he'd said, what she wanted, so much it physically hurt. She couldn't resist the urge to just immerse herself in his thoughts. She felt his surrender, his openness. It was more intimate than touching or even kissing him.

She luxuriated in the sensation of submerging into his emotions… he loved her. Not her, per se, and yet her, all and every version of her. The lines between realities blurred as everything seemed to combine. She learned all his history with her counterpart, mesmerized by the power of what they had shared, even as she showed him the limited history from hers.

She was still basking in his emotions when she felt him wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. He wanted to kiss her, she felt it. She kissed him first, hungry, feeling his memories even as everything was new to her. She knew he could feel that sense of wonder. She could have stayed there in his arms, kissing him for hours, but there was no time. She forced herself to pull away from him. "Aaron," she whispered, placing her hands gently against his chest.

He spoke in her mind. I will always belong to her. To you.

Not me, she thought plaintively.

To you, he repeated. In a thousand different realities, a thousand versions of you and me. I will always belong to you.

His breath was warm against her cheek, his lips grazing against hers again. She pulled back slightly, searching his face. All she saw was longing and desire flaming in his eyes. She could feel all of his emotions, like a blanket on her skin.

She had always loved Aaron, any and every version of him. Even this man, years older than the man she had known, but the same. So blissfully the same. The emotion washing back at her, numbing her, was love. Aaron's love. Something she had hoped for and dreamed of…and lost before she had ever known it was real. But he was here, now, and he loved her.

"We have to go, Aaron," she said, reluctantly stepping back from his arms. "Find the database, tell Miral about the divergence…repair this damage."

"We were supposed to be together, weren't we?" he asked, stepping away from her, breaking the telepathic connection for the moment.

"We will be again," she swore to him. "So long as we succeed here."

It was all the motivation he needed.

}LS{

"Damn it, Dad, you have to hide," Miral said quickly, jumping up from the desk where she sat.

"What?" he asked, refocusing as he looked up from the database, just seconds after Miral had uploaded her virus from the future.

"Mom is close. In this corridor," she said hurriedly, opening the door to the lavatory and motioning him to enter. Tom blanched, but followed her. "She must have heard something…everyone in Ops heard me."

"You couldn't help that," he told her, sensing the reproach in her tone.

"Leave this locked," she murmured quickly as the door swished shut.

Just then, she heard the chime at the door. Immediately, she worried about Aaron and T'Lassa returning to see B'Elanna, something Miral could not explain. "Come in," she called, hoping the visit would be quick and she could go back to her mission.

"What are you doing here?" B'Elanna demanded as she stepped into her daughter's quarters.

"Nice thing to say to your daughter when you haven't seen her for three months," Miral grumbled bitterly.