Chapter 5 – Lucky

When Dana got back to her quarters that evening, the first thing she did was engage the communicator pin on her uniform top and sit down at her desk. "I want to speak to Major Kent Hoberman of the MACOs, on Andoria. Patch in the visual to my desktop, thanks."

The connection was made quickly. "Kent, what's up? You said it was, well, I mean, you implied that it was important."

"Yeah." Kent was a well-built MACO commanding officer in his late thirties. He paused. "I wish I could tell you this in person. You deserve that much, Dana."

"What? What the hell is going on?"

He steeled himself for the response. "My wife wants me to come back. She wants to try again."

"What are you gonna do?

"I've already done it." He braced himself even more.

Dana just stared for a second, and then her temper got the better of her. "How long ago was this?"

"Two weeks, I swear." Kent cringed.

"So when we talked the other day, and you didn't tell me, Kent, what the hell was that all about?"

"I, I'm sorry, Dana. I was a little overwhelmed by it all, by, by Sandy and I was gonna see Nichole and Katie full-time, and we were – uh, are – gonna become a family again. I didn't know what to tell you or, or how. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, me, too. Don't bother calling back."

"Dana!"

"Computer, end transmission." Once the connection had been cut, she added, "Block any and all communications from Emmet Kent Hoberman or anyone who reports directly to him."

Confirmed.

She sat there at her desk, arms folded. "How dare you," she said quietly. Her door chimed, and she jumped. "Oh, man, uh, come in, I guess."

"You guess?" It was Rick.

"Yeah, um, are you lost?"

"Heh, no," he chuckled. "I'm just trying to fix things."

"Well, now is not a good time."

"Oh?"

"Private stuff."

"Oh, sorry. Look, we've been able to work together pretty well in every iteration, and in every variation. But we do have to shake a leg."

"Why? You're a freaking time traveler, right? So can't you just come and go whenever? Um, you can, can't you?"

"I can. But, you see, there are trillions of other variables. And one of them is the cooperation of the people on board. If I arrive too early, then things don't work out quite so well. Nobody believes me if you haven't already had the meeting about your radiation band heritage."

"I see."

"The other half is the cycling. See, it hits my instruments, too. That's a big part of why I'm even here in the first place. I need people like you to help me."

"And do what?"

"Find and stop whoever's doing the band cycling. See, the displacement, it has something to do with you, and your ship. I mean the one in the correct iteration. And it has to do with your crew, too. A bunch of them ended up here. They don't belong on board, either, Mack."

"What did you just call me?"

"Oh, that's right; I had forgotten. In the original history, you go as Mack MacKenzie."

Dana chuckled a little at that. "Do I ever call myself Misty? You know; my real first name?"

"Not in any of the times I've tried this, not in any of the variations, no."

Dana got up. "Wait, how many variations have you gone through?"

"Twelve."

"So this is lucky number thirteen?"

Rick smiled a little at that. "It is. I, uh, you told me it wasn't a good time, and I respect that, but I am hoping you'll work with me, Dana."

She bit her lip for just a second. "Uh, yeah, sure. What the hell."

=/\=

In his quarters, Martin Madden looked over duty rosters and reports. There was a communications chime. He hit the communicator pin on his uniform top. "Madden here."

"You know this is going to be fun." The voice was young, feminine, and playful.

"Whaddaya want, Tamsin?"

"For your information, I'm supposed to be reporting to you for my transfer. Personally reporting, if you get my drift. And, of course, if you're going to be difficult or mean or negligent or otherwise unprofessional, Martin, well, I'm certain the Federation flag officers would just love to hear from me."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, come, come now, Martin! I'm supposed to be working in Tactical. You know, under you." She giggled.

"Heh, actually, that means you'll be under MacKenzie."

"That cow? I don't swing that way, Martin."

"I'm sure Dana doesn't, either."

"Really? Well, now, I'm thinking that you two second cousins are just a bit too, heh, intimately involved in each other's lives." Tamsin paused, and then played her trump card. "Of course a charge of incest would tank any oh so promising career."

"Just get your stuff and beam over," he snapped. "You've already got one false accusation under your belt. Get another one, and you'll be forced to leave Starfleet, no matter what the hell your damned radiation band is."

"Don't forget – no matter what happens," Tamsin chuckled menacingly, "you need me. I'll be living on your deck, right?"

"Nope. Rank hath its privileges. I couldn't put you here, even if I wanted to. Arrange all further transfer issues through our ship's main counselor, M'Belle. I got better things to do with my time. And I bet she does, too, so don't be your usual whiny, princess-y self. Madden out." He whacked his hand against the console, to get it to go off and break the connection as fast as possible. It stung, and he waved and shook his hand a few times.

There was a nearly immediate communications chime. "Now, what?" he groused as he answered it.

"Marty, it's me."

"Oh, thank God, Mystic. I'm sorry. She just, man, she just infuriates me."

"Who does?"

"Who else? Cousin Tamsin Porter. You, uh, what can I do for you?"

"Can I come over, and talk a little? I haven't been having the greatest of evenings, either."

The thought of what an accusation or intimation of incest could do to his career crossed Marty's mind for the briefest of instances, and then he banished it. "Of course. We'll compare notes and commiserate, all right? "

"Thanks; you're the best, Marty. I'll be right there." She cut the connection.

Marty performed one small bit of straightening up in anticipation of her arrival, and removed his communicator pin and then threw his uniform top into the laundering unit. This left him in regulation uniform trousers and a black tee shirt that helped to show off a muscular physique. He took off his shoes and neatly put them away on the floor of his closet.

It was the only thing he had time for, as Dana only lived several doors down, but on the same deck. The door chimed, and he opened it to find her in workout gear, gray sweats and a turquoise and gray top with the New England Red Sox logo on it. "Got room for another one in there?" she joked.

"Any time, for you." He made sure the door was shut and then motioned for her to sit down. She took a seat on the edge of his bed. "Well?" he asked, sitting in his desk chair.

"Kent broke up with me."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. I mean, it kinda isn't, but, well, his wife took him back and he's all eager to be a full-time dad."

"Got it. But you, Mystic, how are you feeling about all that?"

"I was kinda mad at first. I mean, he knew about it for two weeks! I get the feeling he was trying to play both sides up the middle, and see if he could keep both of us."

"Really?"

"I'm being unfair," she admitted after a while. "I don't really have all the facts, except that he knew about it. He didn't spell it out, but if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Sandy pushed him to do it."

"Sandy?"

"The ex who is no longer an ex – I guess she's got him by the short hairs."

"Well, I imagine her first condition would be for him to drop any girlfriend he had. Heh, I had been wondering if I should meet the guy. I won't need to, now."

"No, you won't. Marty, even if this hadn't happened, he, well, he was okay. But he was never the one or anything like that. He could never hold a candle."

They were both quiet for a few moments. "That's the way I've thought of every woman, Mystic. All of them. They can't compete, not ever." He got up from the desk chair and approached her. "She threatened me, Mystic."

"Who did?"

"Tamsin. She said she'd tell the flag officers that we were in an incestuous relationship."

"Great; that's just what everybody needs. And she's in Tactical, too, right? So I'm her new boss. I should fob her off on Mike. I could say, as a relative, that I've got a conflict of interest."

"He'd likely have the same conflict, Mystic."

"Yeah; you're probably right. I talked to Rick Daniels before I contacted you tonight."

"Oh? What did he say?'

"He said," She recounted, "that this was his thirteenth time trying this. He also said he and I've always worked well together. Marty, I think he was hitting on me a little."

"How do you feel about that? You just got outta the whole Kent situation."

"I know. It's a rebound and all of that. But I get the feeling Rick won't be around for long. And the whole Kent thing? With all the long distance, the last time I saw him was almost a year ago. Maybe a fling would do me some good. I don't know."

"I, uh," Marty considered his words carefully. "I can't say that I wouldn't be dismayed. But I shouldn't let it eat at me or stop you. I mean, after all, you are completely off the table for me. It's how I got into the Tamsin mess to begin with. So, Mystic," he looked her in the eye, "don't let him stalk you."

"Of course not. Heh, I hope I'm not a direct ancestor."

"You would have to have a kid. Something you're not telling me?" he looked at her slyly and smiled a crooked half-smile at her.

She laughed at that. "I've been celibate for quite a while; too much long distance with Kent. If I'm pregnant, it's a pretty nifty miracle."

"You could start the First Church of Mystic."

"Oh man; it would be the church of, I dunno, people who are, apparently – at least according to Rick Daniels – kinda outta place."

"You are not out of place. And hell, I'll be your High Priest."

She laughed again, but this time it was more of a nervous titter. "Every time we talk, Marty – and I mean when we reallytalk, that is," her tone had turned utterly serious, "every single, every single time, I get all messed up."

"Oh, c'mon, Mystic. I don't mean anything bad by it."

"I know you don't, Marty. I just, eh, I wish things were different. See, Rick said this was the 13th iteration he'd been to. I asked him if I ever called myself Misty in any of them."

"Do you?"

"I don't, apparently. But Marty, what I should have asked him is if we are ever together. It would be a little bit comforting, I think, if there was some version out there, some like a, a quantum nugget, I guess, where the planets align and you and I are together and it's forever and we're married and all of that. I want there to be at least a, a nugget of perfection, a nugget of happiness."

He got down on the floor, on his knees, in front of her, hearing his knees crack a bit as he did so. "In this nugget," he said softly, we have a kid or two, right? And we live somewhere great, in the kind of ancient Victorian house you've always loved."

"New England, maybe, or maybe some place like New Orleans – wouldn't that be a kick? Our kids – wow – Chloe and Steven."

"Or Pete and Catherine, I dunno." He took her hands and looked her in the eye, smiling. "Our dreams."

She chewed on her lower lip. "But they can't ever come true." She started to get up, and then he did so, too, but he didn't drop her hands. "I wanna stay so badly. But we both know I can't." She turned toward the door.

"Wait, Mystic. I have something for you."

"What?"

"I do. See, I read a chunk of the book. And I learned that this thing I was given to me by my dad. It turns out that it was an artifact from Lili O'Day. She got it from a MACO who was killed – Jay Hayes. Turns out he was our radiation band's counterpart, our version, if you will, of Douglas Jay Hayes Beckett."

"Our common ancestor – you, me, Tamsin, and Geordi and the others."

"Exactly." Marty rummaged around in his nightstand until he found the article. "Here." He placed a small metallic disc into her outstretched palm.

"A nickel," she said, "minted in, it looks like it says 2012. It's an antique. Was 2012 somehow important?"

"It wasn't, so far as I can tell. Maybe it was lucky."

"The family lucky nickel – and you want me to have it, Marty?"

"Yes, I do." He cupped his hand around hers, pushing her fingers closed around it to safeguard it. "It's the best I can do for you. I only wish it was a trillion or more times more."

She clutched it, still with his hand around hers, to her heart. "It already is."