The next morning, I was cool, calm and collected. I followed my usual wakeup routine, albeit a futuristic version.
At eight o'clock I'd given up on sleep, slipping out of bed to get orange juice from the replicator. Unusually hungry, I had then ordered scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, hash browns and beans. There didn't seem to be a 'small portion' option; either that or I just didn't know how to ask properly. Deciding it made no difference anyway (leftovers are recycled, after all), I just ate what I could before putting the rest back and going to the toilet.
In my pre-Trek life (as I soon began to call it in my head) I had often wondered what using the bathroom would be like on the Enterprise. Sonic showers were never really described, except a line from B'Elanna on Voyager that said something about 'sonic pulse vibrations'. After looking them up, I'd found quite a bit of detail on Memory Alpha, but nobody knew what it was really like.
Trying to describe using one to somebody who never has is pretty much impossible, because it's unlike anything else. The thing I can best equate it to is using a sauna: a big billow of steam that floats around you and seems to hone in on your skin, almost like it's alive. Every cell feels like it's instantly clean, though there's no scrubbing sensation. Instead, it's like the dirt just dissolves off your body with no trouble at all. Fast and soothing… something I could really get used to.
As for the toilet itself… the changes aren't so exciting. The bowl isn't washed with water – it looks similar to the sonic shower steam in an airstream – but the shape is exactly the same, and the toilet paper is basically a softer version.
Nobody had given me any rules when it came to clothing, so I used the replicator again to get something closer to my usual style. Fashion was never my forte, but the prison outfit had to go. Instead, I managed to make a pair of jeans, a floaty white top and comfortable underwear, worn with my Reebok trainers. They were my favourites back home, and were now the only thing I had from my old life. My pyjamas and coat hadn't yet been returned to me.
By half nine I was ready to begin my day, whatever that might entail. If you looked closely, you would see the darker shadows under my eyes that showed my insomnia had returned from its hiatus, but my smile was firmly plastered in place for when it was needed. So what if it didn't reach my eyes?
As I said: cool, calm and collected.
The day turned out to be exciting, informative and eventful, rather than the lounging around in front of the entertainment system I had imagined. Captain Picard had submitted his report to Starfleet, and wanted to know how I had arrived there before admirals made things complicated.
That meant a full examination by Dr Crusher to begin with. At the time, I didn't have a combadge, but the communication system apparently allowed people to open a channel to a specific room as well as to people. Beverley's disembodied voice echoed around my quarters just as I was booting up the computer on the small desk, hoping to get the low-down on 24th century changes the show may never have revealed.
''Doctor Crusher to Willow Cooper?''
Automatically reaching for a badge that wasn't there, my brain momentarily froze over before it realised that I could just talk to the air. ''Um, yes Doctor?''
Her tone was warm and friendly, and I could see her kind, lipstick-coated smile in my mind. ''Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I just need you to come down to Sickbay for some medical scans.''
''Yes, sure. I mean, of course, Doctor. On my way.'' Making a mental note to be less flippant and more formal, I set off for Sickbay.
I got quite a few curious glances on my way there. Not as many as I had last time, when wearing a coat over pyjamas and being escorted by two senior officers, but a few nonetheless. Jeans obviously merit that much.
Stepping into Sickbay, I hovered around the door while looking around for the Doctor. The space had few patients in it, and none appeared to have serious injuries, but it was still a hive of activity. Doctors and nurses bustled up and down with tricorders and other medical equipment, and others treated the few officers on the bio-beds. I spotted Doctor Selar kneeling over Barclay's feet, who had apparently stubbed his toe. The image made me smile, especially as this was the second time I had seen him, and both times he had hurt himself. Even Selar, as a Vulcan, looked slightly exasperated.
''There you are!'' The voice came from the redheaded CMO, who I hadn't noticed walk up to me. ''How are you feeling?''
''Oh, I'm okay, Doctor. How are you?''
She smiled. ''Fine, thank you. Just this way, Miss Cooper.'' Crusher began to walk towards a bio-bed, and I followed.
''Please, call me Willow. I'm no 'miss', especially not around here.''
A sculptured eyebrow was raised. ''Okay then, Willow. You didn't do anything wrong, you know.''
''Yeah, but I still don't exactly fit in or command respect.''
''Give it time. You certainly seem witty; I haven't seen anybody put down Worf in years.''
Jumping onto a grey bio-bed, I grinned cheekily. ''That's just my sassy nature.''
Conversation halted whilst Beverley scanned me using one of those small, cylindrical metal things. ''Well, you're definitely human.''
''Good to know.''
''All your vital signs are stable, cognitive activity appears normal, no viral or bacterial infections that I can detect. It seems you've joined us in perfect health.''
''I like to be considerate.''
''But… wait a minute. Your brain isn't processing as fast as it should be. Areas that control concentration and memory aren't working efficiently, and those that control emotions are showing a chemical imbalance. That could easily be put down to what's happened to you in the last few days, but… is there something else going on?''
Her eyes flickered to the shadows under my own. Damn.
I looked at the floor, swinging my feet. Then I looked up into her face, and there was maternal compassion written all over it. I had nothing to lose by telling her. ''I have insomnia.''
Doctor Crusher sat down next to me, her voice soft when she spoke. ''For how long?''
''Over two years.''
She looked shocked. ''Were you on any medication?''
I shook my head. ''I've tried some natural remedies, but none of them have worked. They don't really prescribe sleeping pills to under 18's, because of their addictive nature.''
The Doctor's expression is hard to describe. An incredulous laugh, a dumfounded sigh from a smiling mouth. Just like when she was trapped inside a warp bubble and crew kept disappearing, when Picard told her that the two of them ran this giant ship all alone.
''But surely, if someone hasn't slept well for that length of time…''
''You'd think so, but apparently not. I was going to go back to my GP when I turned eighteen, which is in…'' I trailed off, thinking back. ''So, I've been here for… two nights. But my first day – my time in the Holodeck and when I arrived - basically was night, according to my body clock. So, I've only been here for one full day and this is the morning of my second day. I left on the 18th of June, so for me today is the 20th. My birthday is on the 7th of July, so that's…. that's….''
''Eighteen days'' Beverley provided helpfully.
''Yes, you're right. It feels like I've been here much longer than that.''
''I can imagine. Nowadays sleeping pills can be given to teenagers, because they're now much less addictive. Besides, it's the time of your life you're most likely to need them, and the damage little sleep does to your body outweighs any risks.''
''So, you're offering them to me?''
''Yes. You don't have to take them. I'm afraid we haven't developed a miracle drug that instantly knocks you out yet, but they should be useful.''
''Aw, really? You've had more than 300 years, you know!''
I had judged from her earlier comments that the Doctor was up for a joke, and luckily for me I was right. ''I'll tell Starfleet Medical we've been slacking, and to get on it right away.''
''Please do'' I said in a posh, snooty voice. ''In the meantime, I'll take some of these mediocre things you're offering me.''
''Right you are.'' She went into some kind of back room, and about a minute later returned with seven lilac tablets. ''Just take one of these about an hour before you go to sleep'' she said, tipping them into my palm.
''Yay, purple! My favourite colour.''
Another raised eyebrow. ''Come back when – or if – you run out. Now, I need to do some deeper scans to check for residual traces, anything that might give us an idea of how you got here. I'll report anything to Commander Data, as he's in charge of getting you home.''
I lay down on the bed, as she indicated with her hands. ''When am I next going to see him?'' I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
''Hopefully today. He's on the away mission now, but if all goes well he should be finished in time.''
''I wish I knew what that mission was.''
Doctor Crusher began her deep scans, using the large screens to show the data and scanning me all over with various equipment. ''I'm sure you do. It must be torture for you, knowing what's going to happen.''
''It's… hard. Though it's almost worse that I don't know everything – I haven't memorised every episode and when that episode falls, I just know them all roughly and others in detail. Like, I know the name Nervala IV, I just can't remember what happens.''
''You'll no doubt get a clue soon.''
''What makes you say that?''
''Well, it can't exactly be a routine mission, can it? Otherwise they wouldn't make an episode out of it. The show can't cover every single day.''
''That's true. Something's going to happen. Hopefully nothing bad.''
All Beverley could do was nod seriously, no doubt thinking of all the tragedies she has witnessed. Conversation ceased until the scans had finished, which felt like it took about an hour.
''There you go'' she finally said, snapping the tricorder in her hand shut. ''You're done.''
''Find anything?''
She frowned. ''Nothing but small samples of air particles consistent with that time period on Earth. I expected to find something that hinted at the type of transport – just like the traces you get after using a transporter – but there's nothing. It's like you just appeared.''
I sighed. ''Looks like this mystery really isn't going to be solved quickly. What do I do now?''
''Make your way back to your quarters, and wait for Commander Data to contact you.''
I jumped down. ''Thank you, Doctor.''
Her next question took me by surprise. ''Do you call Deanna 'Counsellor?'''
''Well, no. She asked me to call her Deanna. And Data asked me to call him Data.''
''He did?'' She was momentarily surprised. I had expected her to reply with 'well, don't call me Doctor, then', but the news that Data didn't want to be called 'sir' seemed to rock her. After a beat, she said ''Just call me Beverley''.
''Thank you, Beverley.''
''Good. Now get out of here!'' she jested, laughing.
I complied.
My little 'clue' came much sooner than I expected, and it wasn't so small.
On my way back to my quarters, my mind began to drift. I've now had proper conversations with Data, Deanna, Beverley, Picard and Guinan. I wonder when I'll get to chat to Geordi, and Riker. And Worf, for that matter…
I met Riker almost immediately afterwards, as I collided with him as I turned a corner. Stumbling backwards, my hands reached for the wall to steady myself, but the thing that stopped me falling was Riker's arm grabbing my wrist. He held on until I was back on my own two feet, and I looked up at him – way up – with a grin to say thank you. He had that irresistible smile, framed by that beard that only Riker has.
Except it wasn't Riker.
The yellow uniform kind of gave it away.
''My, you don't look like one of the crew.'' The flirtatious grin was the same, but his eyes were just that bit wilder than William's.
My mind was making lots of connections, but I managed to answer his question. ''No, I'm not. It's a long story.''
''I'd love to hear it sometime, but I'm a little busy right now.'' He indicated the people behind him, the ones I hadn't even noticed yet.
''Hello, Commanders'' I said to Data and the real Riker. ''Sorry about this. I'll get going.''
I began to scurry off, before remembering I never thanked my wrist-holder. ''Oh, and thank you for catching me… sir.''
''It was a pleasure.''
The party began to move off, but Data turned back to call me.
''Willow? I may not be able to discuss anything with you today. There are some… complications… that need to be resolved.''
I looked over his shoulder at the two Rikers, who were markedly maintaining a firm distance and looking straight ahead rather than at each other. ''Yes, I can see. Complications. Don't worry about it, I'll still be here.''
Data gave an affirming nod, before turning and catching up to Riker's one and two in only a few strides without appearing to walk quickly. I turned as well, heading back to my quarters.
Well hello, Thomas Riker I thought. Welcome to Second Chances.
Sadly, it wasn't a mission that really affected your average Joe on the ship. I knew the bridge crew would be doing their thing: working out how Riker was duplicated, pushing on with the equipment collection, having an identity crisis.
I remembered the episode vividly because it made me think; would I like myself if I met me? Something tells me I wouldn't: I always try to be nice and kind and considerate, but I know that I can be annoying, loud, opinionated, obnoxious, emotional, defensive, cutting, judgemental and much too snarky. My defence of my principles and values can tread on some toes, and I can debate with the best of them. If I'm in charge of a group then everything is fine, and will run smoothly with different opinions listened to. But if someone else is in charge and I think they're doing the wrong thing, I can get seriously annoyed.
As you can tell, my high self-esteem is a strength of mine.
As nothing exciting was going on, I booted up the computer in my quarters and soon discovered that they were more advanced than they appeared. It was a touchscreen, just like all the consoles, and you could use voice commands for pretty much everything. But how to search?
Do they still have search engines? It's worth a shot. ''Okay, open Google.''
It opened! The logo had changed, but the colours of the letters were the same, as was the search box. I chose to use the touch screen to enter 'major events in the last 300 years', and I found a page with a giant timeline.
Just what I wanted. Scrolling down, I found many events mentioned on the TV: the Irish Reunification of 2024, the Eugenics War, the first warp flight and first contact with the Vulcans. But it didn't take me long to realise that some things were wrong. Apparently, we first got a shuttle to Mars in 2005, and in 2014 the first man (though it was actually a woman) set foot on the Red Planet. Politically, all the names and parties were wrong, with very little consistency between this list and the one I knew. Deciding to do a thorough job, I spent hours researching other areas, such as films, sports and musical acts. The inconsistencies were still there.
It confirmed the theory that this was an alternative universe, rather than just the future. Everything from late 2017 onwards on the timeline may well happen, but I knew other things hadn't happened. The inconsistencies seemed to begin around the dawn of the 21st century, when most of Star Trek had finished. Was that just a coincidence?
Time had flown, and only the rumbling of my stomach brought me back to Earth… or the ship. I ordered tomato pasta from the replicator, along with a knife and fork, and ate at the small dining table.
''Computer, what time is it?'' I asked when everything was cleared away.
The cool voice I had always thought was Majel Barrett said ''18:12'', so I chose to watch a film to pass the time. My quarters had no television, so I fiddled around with the computer options until I found a film index. But what to watch? Should I pick something from my near future to see what they might be like, or go full on 24th century? Eventually, I elected to watch something that had already been released to begin with, and found a movie I'd always wanted to see: Kill Bill. It looked so bad that it might actually be good, and I figured it must be okay because even I knew the name. If I've heard of a film, it must be famous.
The screen was small, but I fixed that by dragging the desk over to the foot of my bed. Then I replicated some sweet popcorn, dimmed the lights, made myself comfortable against my pillow and said ''computer, play from the start.'' Why use the button when I had the chance to revel in voice commands?
I was just getting to the best bit when the door annunciator bleeped, telling me that somebody wanted to enter.
Author's Notes: Hello again! If you looked at my page you would have seen why this update has taken a while. Everything just seemed to come at once! Luckily it's the summer holidays now (yay!) so I have more time to write from now on. I keep saying that, don't I? I've decided to split what I thought would be one chapter into two parts, because it was looking to be really long. I know not much happens in this part, besides a certain revelation, but the second is more interesting. I'll give you a little spoiler: it contains some Geordi POV!
Yes, we're at Second Chances (S6E24). As I've mentioned before, the gaps between episodes are much shorter in this story than they are in canon. She'll be more involved in some than in others. If anybody has any ideas for a particular episode you're very welcome to mention them, as I may just put them in! You'll be credited in these notes. Kill Bill is a film I saw recently, and is exactly as Willow described: so, so cringy that it's actually quite funny and interesting. Definitely the strangest film I've ever seen. Thank you to everybody for reading and reviewing. Woody xxx