The Adventures of Augment Gothic (A Star Trek SI)

by Joe Lawyer

A present-day Star Trek fan is forcibly thrust into that dimension and made anew as an Augment, a genetically engineered superman, on the whim of a mischievous god. Armed with knowledge of this dimension's past and future, he's determined to live well, have fun with alien women, and make it look easy. Elements of DS9/TNG/Voy/Ent. Originally co-written with GothicJedi666.

43. Chapter 43

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to or part of Star Trek.

Last time on The Adventures of Augment Gothic

Opening my eyes, I found myself in an immense white void, with no end in sight no matter how far I turned my head or tried to focus on points in the 'distance.' Where was I?

"Computer, end program," I ordered. "Exit. Arch."

I tried a myriad number of commands, yet nothing worked. When that failed, I tried to tap into my always present connection to the ship and Scarlett, nothing, then I tried Hermione, even Carl. Nothing. It was as if they weren't even there. Suddenly, I felt terribly alone. How else would you feel when you had multiple presences with you, at all times, always ready to help and serve their Creator, and then suddenly you were utterly alone. Was this how the Borg felt when severed from the hive mind, but in their case billions of time worse? I'm amazed 7 of 9 from canon Star Trek: Voyager hadn't gone insane with the loss, having known nothing else since a very, very young child.

I reviewed what I could remember from the moments after we had tried to traverse dimensions. The shields had been attacked. A strange, all-encompassing attack, actually, and the shields had fallen. Had the ship been destroyed? Had I died? If the Star Trek dimension was real, was the God of my childhood, my Catholic faith, just as real, even here?

The void around me began to change, suddenly there was a blue sky filled with fluffy, happy clouds forming. A bright beam of brilliant sunlight shone down on me, rich and warm, obscuring a gigantic figure in archaic robes, a figure that was slowly walking towards me, getting closer and closer. For some reason, that sense of loneliness I had been feeling suddenly disappeared, and I only felt a wonderful contentedness gazing on this brilliant being of light.

The figure got closer and closer, and I was still unable to see their face. They came within feet of me and stopped, as if waiting, waiting for something to happen. Were they waiting for me to acknowledge them? To accept them into my heart like those door-to-door Christians were always going on about?

Deciding I had little to lose, I reached out a hand.

"Is that you, God?"

A hand reached out from that bright white blinding light…and promptly 'booped' me on the nose, like a child.

What the fuck?

"Got your nose!" he said, leaning forward and I got a glimpse of who I thought may have been God.

"Q?" I asked in a whisper, and the sheer incongruity of the sight of him, in this moment, caused even my impressive brain to blue screen. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I'm sorry, my child, but you died," Q answered magnanimously. The tone and words fit the aesthetic, a loving God comforting his child at the end of their long and fulfilling life, but the mocking, shit eating grin on Q's face told a very different story. "Dimensional travel is so hard, isn't it?"

And with that I let out a long, long sigh.

Fuck.

The Adventures of Augment Gothic

Chapter 43

Immaterial Realm. Heaven?

Fuck, I thought yet again, wondering where it had all gone so horribly wrong. I had always known we were in way, way over our heads using that stolen dimensional travel technology, but we had made some serious progress in better understanding it. At least that's what T'Maz and I had thought.

Did I think dying was a possibility using it? Sure. Yeah, intellectually. Did I think I was actually going to die using it, though? No. Hell no.

Maybe it was arrogance or maybe it was overconfidence, but I had had so much damn success in the past using advanced alien technology that I had no right using or even understanding. No, I admitted, I really hadn't thought I'd die, not really. I thought this was going to be yet another triumph of my awesome ingenuity. I had known dying was a possibility, of course, but I felt like I had so much time left in this new adventure that was my life.

In that moment I felt a terrible, crushing despair settle over me and my knees felt weak. In the next moment, I found myself falling back only to be gently pushed into a cushy, leather, tufted wingback chair which arrested my fall. It was incredibly comfortable, of course, even more comfortable than my captain's chair on the bridge of my ship, but why wouldn't it be? This chair had been created by a God-like being with a snap of 'his' fingers and probably had the immaterial concept of comfort woven into its very existence, rather than that comfort being a function of good, soft leather, or ample cushioning, or sturdy hard wood construction. This chair hadn't been built by a mortal's hands, it had been summoned into existence, more of a conceptual existence, but yet no less real.

Opening my eyes, I sent a nod of thanks at Q who magnanimously nodded back in return, who I now saw was sitting in his own wingback chair, legs crossed, that insufferable all-knowing smile still on his face, looking imminently comfortable and unaffected by the crushing despair I had just shown him. I suddenly felt so terribly embarrassed at my display of weakness. And also ashamed. In my breakdown had I even given the others with me who had also lost their lives a second thought? Logical and lusty T'Maz, loveable and fierce Neela, and B'Elanna, who I knew would one day grow to love me like all my other girls. They too had lost their lives.

Maybe I truly was the monster the Federation thought I was?

In this moment, at the very end of my life, I felt the need to speak painful, unvarnished truths, to unburden myself to God, or the closest I'd yet encountered in Q.

"I always knew that I didn't have plot armor, like Picard and the Enterprise, or Godly protectors like Sisko," I slowly and quietly admitted, while tiredly rubbing my forehead, eyes closed to hide from the terrible finality of this moment. "But somehow I thought I'd have had more time or that I'd die in some glorious orbital bombardment by the Dominion when they realized that I was so fucking badass that they would need to glass a whole world to truly get me. Barring that, maybe in the hidden depths of my soul, something that I didn't even want to admit aloud or even to myself, I thought I'd live long enough that I became a being of real power too."

I let out an explosive sigh. Q just continued to listen patiently, looking like he was really, really listening, you know?

"What fucking arrogance, huh?" I offered to my listener, self-deprecatingly.

Q quietly chuckled at my admission.

"If it gives you any comfort, you had a truly glorious end and went out in an explosion so powerful it consumed light years of space in brilliant fire. Most have far more boring deaths."

"Light years?" I asked quietly, astounded at the idea of such a large explosion. What on Earth could have caused something like that?

"Light years in every direction," Q nodded with a grin.

"An explosion you said?" I repeated quietly, my mind racing, trying to put together all the puzzle pieces and hints that I knew I was being given like a child.

"Go on," Q encouraged, leaning forward eagerly, "you're on the right track."

Well, that confirmed that Q had left himself a backdoor into my thoughts even when he'd given me protection from other high-level beings like himself.

"Of course, I did," Q confirmed.

I rolled my eyes.

"The shields were attacked, every inch, all at the same time," I recounted, remembering what the ship's sensors had told me right before I had…died.

"Yep."

"We always knew the targeting aspect of the dimensional travel was the most difficult part of the process, not opening a portal or rift into the larger multiverse once you understood how that worked," I thought out loud. "We barely understood the concept of dimensional coordinates necessary to target a specific reality destination."

"It's by far the most difficult, abstract, and conceptual part of the process, at least for the mortal races that try their hand at it. Single reality bound Gods struggle with it too," Q shared. "Assuming they even survive their first attempt or don't doom their entire native dimension by letting some kind of cosmic horror inside the gates, as it were. One of the Continuum's primary responsibilities, well, all existences at our level, is to prevent that very thing from happening."

"We didn't reach our home dimension, did we?" I asked. "Wherever we ended up was hostile to our very existence?"

"Ding, ding, ding!" Q excitedly responded like an old timey carnival barker. "Get this Augment a prize!"

A neon blue glass of ice cold Romulan ale appeared in my hand. Q quieted down rather quickly after that, before his soft smile returned to his face.

"You did reach the right dimension, though, at least in a manner of speaking, but as always the devil is in the proverbial details when we're talking about concepts this abstract and ethereal."

I took a sip of my Romulan ale and my God, it was like an explosion of awesome flavor came into existence on my tongue, as if the concept could be distilled to a liquid form. I greedily took several long pulls on it, licking my lips after each taste in probably a truly ridiculous looking manner, not that I cared at the moment. I stared in absolute wonder at the drink, like the secrets to life, the universe, and everything was in its depths.

"My God, this ale is fucking amazing! I've never tasted anything so damn good!" I gushed, before settling back in my chair and nodding appreciatively after another large gulp. "Unlike Picard, if you're willing to share information or advice or wisdom, I promise you that I will listen and give full consideration to every word you're willing to give me," I encouraged.

"Thank you, thank you, it's nice to feel appreciated from time to time," Q said, leaving back in his own chair. "How can I explain this in a way that you'd actually understand?"

I simply leaned back and took more sips of this amazing ale as Q arranged his thoughts, not at all insulted by his words. Luckily, when I got to the bottom, it instantly refilled.

"The mirror universe episodes of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine are a good example. As you studied the dimensional travel technology from the Forge and started to understand the science underlying it, even in the most basic of ways, like a monkey might understand that hitting a button results in them getting food in an experiment, you got glimpses of just how complex an endeavor it is and just how much you didn't yet understand. You started asking yourself how those Cardassian transporters, transporters not even as advanced as the Federation's, could allow travel between the two universes. Yes, the same station, using the same technology, occupying the same relative space in the two dimensions would certainly help smooth the transit, but the two dimensions being extremely close in dimensional terms was what really made it possible. The two dimensions are nearly adjacent. The fixed presence of the Prophets, high level beings existing in the two universes, also helped stabilize the dimensional link between the two as their very presence and the wormhole itself, stabilizes the dimensional gradients."

Closing my eyes, I tried to conceptualize the significance of everything Q was sharing. It still didn't make sense.

"Mortals at your present stage of development view the multiverse in terms of different choices, different circumstances creating new dimensions, perhaps showing different outcomes of events, at least as far as they understood them. As someone who has lived in a dimension that only existed in a TV show for the last few years, at least from his limited perspective, how would a dimension based on a cartoon, for example, exist because of different choices or different outcomes?"

"It wouldn't. It couldn't."

"As a being of flesh and blood, of matter, to put it crudely, that animated universe would be antithetical to your very existence on a conceptual level because your conceptual existence is rather fixed and rigid; that is the essence of being a mortal. The higher you rise on the totem pole, the more malleable and fluid your conceptual existence becomes, the more independent it is of local existential circumstances or conditions. Upon traveling to an animated universe you would die, instantly, as your mortal existence would be wholly incompatible with that realm. Well, unless the transit technology was advanced enough to tweak your conceptual existence just enough to allow the transition, but I'm getting off topic," Q patiently explained, waving his hand as if to say never mind. "It didn't exist in 2016 when you were plucked from your native dimension, but there was going to be another Star Trek animated show called Star Trek: Lower Decks, an attempt at making a more comedic and friendly, less serious Star Trek to attract younger viewers. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"It's a variation on a theme, the same, yet different. There could be an animated version of my new home reality, that would be antithetical to my existence, but it would be the right dimension on some level."

Q leaned forward, "Exactly! The infinite multiverse is far more nuanced than your mortal mind can truly comprehend. You arrived in the right dimension, but a different variation on the theme. The more significant the difference or variation, the more hostile it would be to your mortal existence. Can you guess what the difference was?"

For several long moments I desperately tried to answer Q's question, but nothing came to mind. I shook my head.

"Let me give you another hint, in Star Trek: Voyager, the Borg were able to travel to another dimension, but it was a universe quite different from the one they came from. Janeway called it fluidic space. That realm was fundamentally different, but yet not so different as to kill the Borg instantly upon arrival and vice versa, like a non-animated versus an animated universe."

With all these hints, the puzzle pieces started to come together to form a picture that I somewhat recognized, or at least I thought I did. The all encompassing 'attack' on the shields, the lessons on how subtle the differences could be when traveling the multiverse, the information that my ship's arrival in that dimension caused an explosion that spanned light years in all directions, the subtle emphasis on the word 'matter'. The most powerful controlled explosions in the Star Trek universe that powered most of their starships. That explosive reaction also provided the destructive power of their torpedoes.

"Say it," Q encouraged.

"An antimatter universe," I practically whispered.

"An antimatter universe," Q parroted back slowly in confirmation, looking proud that I had come to the conclusion that he wanted me to, that he had led me to like a child by the nose. "The Federation of that universe have matter injectors in their warp cores, not antimatter. The annihilation of matter is what powers their starships in their warp cores. And your arrival in that universe, at least once your shields fell, provided more uncontained matter in one place than has ever been seen before."

"Did we harm anyone?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

We had been intending to return to the exact place that we had been taken from to simplify the dimensional calculations, but we weren't exactly in the middle of nowhere.

"Let's just say that I nudged you to a more isolated area."

"Thank you, Q. That was very generous of you."

"You're welcome, I owed you, after all," Q replied, glancing up and off into the distance, slyly.

Now that drew me up short.

"Owed me? I can't think of a single reason that would mean you owed me anything. In fact, it is probably the other way around considering how you gave me my first ship and protected me from other high-level beings."

"Let's just say that the aliens of the Forge were never meant to target your universe," Q explained, sounding amused. At my gesture to continue, Q rolled his eyes and obliged me. "We've talked about this before, but your very existence is causing ripples and waves in the timestream, changes that other high-level beings are growing increasingly unhappy about. Since they can't target you directly, lest they risk my ire, they nudged their pawn race a few thousand years in the past to target your universe, hoping to kill you. I, in turn, put you in their path before their plan came to fruition. You performed wonderfully, beyond my expectations, with the exception of killing yourself there at the end," Q sent me a mocking grin at the end there.

The fact that they had made this change in the distant past didn't surprise me as much as it should have. Beings seemed to have a very casual relationship with linear time the higher they were on the totem pole.

"In my defense, the Forge's dimensional transit technology was far less advanced and thus less idiot proof than that cube device T'Maz and I encountered," I rationalized. "I'm amazed we did as well as we did now that you've helped me better understand some of the nuances of multiversal travel better."

"You are only a slightly more intelligent talking monkey, after all, so accommodations should be made for your limitations," Q said, throwing me a wink and a good-natured smile. As much as Q's ever-present smile annoyed me at times, I shuddered in fear at the possibility of a day when I saw him utterly serious. "As the sequence of events that led to your death was brought about by outside interference from conceptual beings beyond your ability to prepare for or realistically survive, I suppose a few accommodations or rewards are in order, especially as you, an existence I've claimed, embarrassed those meddling fools. Amongst all powerful beings and existences, bragging rights have a value that can't be understated."

Hope for me and my crew bloomed in my heart.

"First, let's help you survive the eventual trip home," he said before snapping his fingers.

His finger snap seemed to reverberate in my skull before knowledge and understanding I definitely didn't have before on the intricacies of dimensional travel was pushed into my brain like I had spent the time to develop the technology myself. While a part of me hated the fact that it had just been handed to me, another part of me told that other part to shut the fuck up and smile.

I groaned in a little bit of pain, but mostly in embarrassment at not having seen the answers myself. In hindsight, it all felt so fucking obvious. The glaring errors T'Maz and I had made seemed infantile now. Thinking back on how T'Maz and I had messed about with this dangerous technology, now it felt like I was watching toddlers messing about with an active quantum torpedo and being horrified at how happy those toddlers were at activating it and killing themselves and a whole lot of others. I wondered if this was how Q felt all the time while dealing with the mortal races.

"You wouldn't believe, Gothic," Q commiserated, his ever-present smile dimming for a moment. "But multiply that feeling by a million times and it's somewhat close."

I nodded back, a little abashed. Being a god-like being wasn't all fun and games it seemed.

"So, just to confirm, my crew and I are not going to stay dead?" I asked cautiously, knowing this was within Q's power.

"Yes, Gothic, you and your crew won't be staying dead," Q patiently answered, albeit somewhat mockingly. "In fact, I'd like to make you an offer in reward, a quick sojourn across the multiverse that you might enjoy. The only caveat is that you can't move on to the next reality until you've caused a requisite amount of chaos in the previous."

"How will I know when I've caused the 'requisite amount of chaos?'" I asked cautiously, making quote fingers in the appropriate places.

"You'll know," Q answered with certainty.

"Will I know the universes you send me to?" I asked.

"They'll be ones you're familiar with," Q answered with a mischievous smile. "Ones you can benefit from, if you play your cards right."

"If I cause chaos, I'm likely to end up on the radar of the Federation time cops or some future equivalent in those universes," I warned. "If they wanted to stop me or kill me, I'd be hard pressed to survive."

"You'll be integrated into these universes in such a way that it will be as if you were always a part of them, I promise," Q reassured.

I paused for several long moments, wondering if my dreams of looting the Stargate universe might become a reality.

"You wish, Gothic," Q mockingly laughed. "You're supposed to be entertaining for me and your Patron. We both know that the first thing you'd do in the Stargate universe is to find and grab an Ancient repository of knowledge or a city ship, you greedy fuck, and then you'd curb stomp everyone in Star Trek. Boring! While I haven't interfered with available opportunities in the Star Trek universe that you spot or develop yourself organically, I'm certainly not going to gift wrap them for you."

"You can't blame a guy for his errant thoughts," I tried, feeling sheepish at being called out on being greedy. I probably would be too OP for Star Trek anyways with all the ancient knowledge downloaded into my brain, assuming my enhanced brain could handle it, which was a big assumption. I'd probably grab that Ancient DNA manipulator and enhance myself to Alteran levels first.

As Q reached up and was about to do the finger snap of cosmic power/doom, I yelled out to stop him.

"Wait!" I shouted, to which he raised an eyebrow. "Will my ship and crew be available to me?"

Q just rolled his eyes and snapped his finger.

XXXXX

Unknown Universe.

I came to consciousness slowly, with my head down and resting comfortably on my folded arms, like I had fallen asleep on a table or a countertop of all things. My head was pounding, and I felt groggy and out of it in a way that I hadn't felt since I had become an Augment at the start of this new adventure. In fact, it was almost nice at least in how nostalgic it felt. It reminded me of nights spent drinking till I was utterly shitfaced on base in Afghanistan with my buddies, and the overwhelming comradery we felt being in the shit together every day, knowing we could meet our end due to an IED or a sniper or an ambush by the Taliban or a hundred other ways. Of course, it didn't feel great physically, but somehow I felt my body strengthening itself the longer I took the time to fully experience this old feeling, like my Augment physiology had been turned back on and it was dealing with whatever Q had subjected me to.

If I had to put a name to it, it felt like I was fucking hungover, which should be patently impossible given my enhanced physiology could process virtually any amount of alcohol I'd chosen to imbibe, even alien beverages that should have gotten me drunk as a skunk (or killed the average human) in only a few drinks. But when you dealt with Gods, impossible shit was the norm and should probably be expected.

Was Q going for authenticity?

I lifted my head and took in the strange sight in front of me, now realizing that I was in the middle of a very packed bar or nightclub of some sort, with all the expected light effects, and smoke, and incredibly loud music! How hadn't I heard the music prior to lifting my head up? And was that…Madonna?

Fuck me, I vaguely remembered this song from my childhood and that I liked it back in the day. Unfortunately, I hadn't heard it since I'd come to the Star Trek universe. My computer at home, which had come to this universe with me, had had a lot of music illegally saved on it, like so many soldiers who had been deployed did, but it certainly didn't have every song I'd ever heard and liked in my life stored on it. Illegal music sharing was common on deployment, but for some reason Madonna's music hadn't made it into my collection.

At one point or another I had looked up Madonna and other musicians and actors in Earth's historical database and had found that she had never been born in the Star Trek universe. Some Augment had probably killed one of her ancestors and she had never been born and thus the people of that era had never gotten to hear any of her music. Of course, being born in that time didn't mean she'd have necessarily led the same life or have even become a successful musician, but she'd at least have had the chance to.

I listened closely to the music, becoming entranced by the music in a way only an Augment with enhanced hearing could. That nostalgic feeling again was crazy strong, remembering riding in the car with my mother as my mother listened to songs like this while driving me to school or to karate in the 80s.

If you gave me half a chance you'd see
My desire burning inside of me
But you choose to look the other way
I've had to work much harder than this
For something I want don't try to resist me

Open your heart to me, baby
I hold the lock and you hold the key
Open your heart to me, darlin'
I'll give you love if you, you turn the key

Open your Heart! That was the name of this song. Wow, that brought back some memories, especially for a kid born in the 80s.

Looking around I took in my surroundings. Old school CRT televisions were scattered around the large room, showing the music video Madonna had made to be released with this song. It was actually a really cool video in the standard provocative style that she was famous for. In the video, Madonna was dancing around in the middle of a stripper peep show area with all kinds of people watching her from separate rooms, the kind that forced you to pay money so that a visible divider would rise up and you could see the stripper. It was a great video.

There was a very active working bar on the left doling out drinks to many young humans, and only humans, I noted, garbed in their best clubbing outfits and a very full dance floor filled with people. Unless this was an 80's night and these people were extremely serious about dressing in period clothes, I had somehow been transported to a dimension where it was 1980's Earth. It would certainly explain the lack of any visible aliens.

A smile pricked at my lips as I took in the clothing on display. It was amazing. The women's hairstyles were all huge and elaborate, perms a plenty, with the distinct smell of aqua net hairspray heavy in the air. Hair was dyed all manner of colors, shiny silky dresses, shoulder pads, big hoop earrings, with gaudy make up, bright, bold lipstick and heavy eye shadow were present on everyone. Headbands/sweatbands were really popular too. And my God, the smoking! Everyone was smoking, often even while dancing. How did they keep from burning each other? What I had previously thought were smoke effects was actually a heavy haze of cigarette smoke in the air. What a crazy time.

The men were fascinating to watch too. Some looked semi normal to someone who came to adulthood in the early 21st century, but this was that crazy time where the popular look for men was to look as effeminate or maybe more accurately, as androgenous as possible. The men were wearing as much make up as the women, with bright eye shadow and bleached blond/platinum hair styled in spikes or mullets, big and bold. Blazer and suit jackets, some long and reaching to the thighs seemed popular.

Suddenly I wondered with dread how Q had chosen to dress me. Looking down I found that I was wearing a long sleeved dark purple satin shirt that practically reflected the light. It was open to my belly button, tied up in a knot exposing my hairless and muscled chest, with a gaudy silver Christian cross necklace on. On my hand I was wearing black gloves for some reason. I was also wearing some skintight leather pants with a ridiculously gaudy large faux diamond studded belt buckle. I picked up one of the spoons on the table in front of me and turned it so that it could serve as a makeshift mirror. My hair had been dyed blonde and styled using gel or moose to create sharp spikes, with my sides shaved to make the spikes stand out more. I looked like an 80's rockstar. Somehow, I made it work.

I leaned back in the large horseshoe shaped booth and quietly laughed a little. It wasn't exactly my style, but it was certainly fun and far better than being dead after your ship's matter had interacted with an antimatter universe and created an explosion lightyears in diameter. The more I thought about it, the harder I laughed, which obviously broke whatever notice-me-not magic Q had placed on me because suddenly everyone was glancing my way, though staring at me was probably the better way to describe it. If it wasn't so cliché, I'd almost describe it as a record scratch where the music suddenly stopped and everyone turned to look at the newcomer who had just walked into a bar, before turning back on again.

Of course, nothing like that actually happened, but the dancing on the floor certainly stuttered for a moment or two while every woman (and many men) in the place started eye-fucking me like I had never experienced before. I guess I had become too used to the Star Trek dimension that this reaction surprised me for a moment. In Star Trek, world class medical care was free for everyone, and replicators could carefully tailor your food's make up to ensure that no one was fat (unless they wanted to be) and everyone was fit. Cosmetic alterations were also incredibly easy and effective with a dermal regenerator, so I was used to the baseline human beauty being quite high and therefore I didn't stand out quite as much as I did at this moment.

In this time, you were a slave to your genetics, social standing, and behaviors, in terms of looks. To them, I likely looked like a male model, dressed like a rock star, had suddenly shown up in this club's VIP section. I put my arms up on the seats, spread wide, showing off my muscled chest more and sent them all a sexy, inviting smile. The reaction was as good as I could have wished for, and several men had turned their dates, girlfriends, and wives forcefully around to stop their girls from eye fucking me any longer.

After a moment or two more fun, I turned my eyes to the drink on my table. It was a sight to see. A giant half coconut bowl filled with alcohol and fruit, like cherries, passion fruit, orange slices and strawberries, and frilly umbrellas of course. It was one of those wild drinks you'd often see women drinking on their bachelorette nights in order to let loose, get drunk, and make some bad decisions. Perhaps Q thought I'd be embarrassed by this drink, but the joke was on him because I loved fruity drinks and was very secure in my masculinity, so I took a long pull of what turned out to be a delicious rum punch. That drink had been around since the 17th century and I was glad that the classics never died, well, at least until a global near species ending war wiped out an ingredient or two and made the drink impossible to accurately recreate in the future.

Deciding I needed to better understand my situation, I started looking around for anything that would help me better understand the circumstances and time that I had been unceremoniously dropped in. Looking above the bar, my vision telescoped to take in the framed license hanging there issued by the Florida Department of Business and Professional Regulation (DBPR), Division of Alcoholic Beverages and Tabacco (ABT) granting this club a liquor license for two years, one that would expire in 1987. A calendar hanging up behind the bar denoting who had what shift told me that it was July 1986 on the Earth of this dimension.

Florida, huh? Now where was I? There had to be a capacity limit sign somewhere; virtually every club I'd ever visited had something similar at the door.

Yep, there by the front door was a capacity limit sign issued by Broward county, Florida. Fort Lauderdale was the largest city in that county, I recalled, having flown out of the international airport there at one point in my old life. Was that where I was? Fort Lauderdale? Of all the many places on Earth, that was a very strange place for Q to have dropped me in this dimension. There had to be some significance to it that I just wasn't seeing yet.

Gently scratching my chest, I discovered that I was actually bare chested and was not wearing my armor. That made me feel far more naked than the open shirt, especially in this unfamiliar environment without any of my weapons on hand. Not that I was facing anything immediately dangerous at the moment, nor was likely to, but that's not how I had survived all those years of war in the Star Trek dimension. No, I took calculated risks, where the benefits were well worth the risks, and I mitigated the risks with powerful defenses and advanced weaponry.

Feeling down my left arm, I let out a sigh of relief as I could feel the band of my omnitool on my forearm, hidden under my shirt. Mentally reaching out to the omnitool using my synaptic transceiver, I felt nothing, nothing at all.

Keeping a tight grip on my emotions, I pulled my drink closer to take a small sip, carefully placing its gaudy bulk to hide what I was doing. Bringing my left arm below the tabletop, I casually unbuttoned and pulled up my-was this fucking satin?-sleeve, to expose my omnitool. It looked dark and lifeless. A few experimental taps on its control screen again showed no reaction whatsoever. And this wasn't like my phone battery had died back in the day, I had a Collector micro-singularity power cell powering my omnitool! It'd be centuries before the harnessed singularity at its heart reached entropy.

An idea struck me. I had designed all of my technology with off switches in case they needed to be deactivated and powered down due to the risk of detection or damage due to high energy fields, etc. The reality was, though, like my cell phone back in my old life, I left it on virtually all the time. Technology in the 24th century was so advanced, even a restart wasn't strictly necessary anymore. But for whatever reason, my omnitool was powered off.

Thumbing the activation switch on the side of the device closest to my body, it immediately powered up and it immediately began taking vicinity scans as I'd designed it to do. I still felt nothing from the device. Though I had designed it with an integrated display screen for sale to the masses, like the tricorder that it was meant to displace, I personally rarely used the screen and used it more as a backup display.

Why would I use the actual built-in display screen when I had a synaptic link to the device and could clandestinely overlay the device's output onto my visual field or actually use the onboard holographic virtual screens? In this time, however, activating the holographic screens here would probably be a bad fucking idea and likely cause a panic. Until I had my armor and personal shield back on I certainly wasn't going to risk seeing if a bullet from a 1980s gun could kill me.

Activating a personal scan of my body, I found that my synaptic transceiver was still present in my brain but seemed to be deactivated as well. Again, I had designed the transceiver to allow for a deactivated state, but it wasn't something I had ever done since I had had it implanted. Of course, there was no way to easily reach into my brain to re-activate the device, so I triggered a remote start up routine from my omnitool.

Within moments I felt my connection to my omnitool reestablish, then my full and solid connection to my ship, and a weaker, more narrowed connection to my island and Minos solidify in my mind, like a data highway had just opened up and I was actively receiving and sending data again.

'Father!' was shouted into my head from both my digital daughters who had obviously instantly felt my connection to them reestablish. "You're alive! Where are you?!"

'Yes, I'm alive and well, Natasha, Hermione,' I reassured, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with joy at hearing their familiar voices, but I needed to know how everyone fared. 'How is the ship and crew? Is everyone all right?'

'The ship is fully operational, cloaked and in orbit of Earth, though we are running a full level 1 diagnostic of all ship systems to confirm,' Natasha responded as the ship was practically her body. 'T'Maz, B'Elanna, and Neela are in good health though confused at the current circumstances. Father, they reported feeling they had died in a large explosion. Our sensor records confirm that the ship was destroyed with all hands lost, which also makes no sense. How are we alive? And why are we in the past?'

'That's a story that I intend to share with all of you when we are reunited, the short of it is that Q saved us. Please assure the crew that I am alive and well and not currently in any danger,' I reassured. 'I'm on the planet, likely in the city of Fort Lauderdale, state of Florida, in the nation state known as the United States. Continue with level 1 diagnostics on the ship systems, but direct sensors to my location and begin scanning and expanding out from there.'

'What should we be looking for, father?' Natasha asked.

'Anything out of the ordinary, or that doesn't fit with Earth in 1986, old Earth calendar, which you've likely determined from monitoring the radio emissions from the planet,' I answered. 'Hack into all orbiting satellites and follow that link down to the surface. Monitor all military and governmental channels for anything unusual. Q placed me here for a reason, and I want to find out why.'

'By your command,' Natasha replied.

'Have you locked onto my location?'

'Yes, father,' Natasha answered. 'Sensors are locked onto your current position, and we can see you with full sensor resolution.'

One of the benefits of 1986 Earth was the lack of any advanced materials or shielding to prevent sensors from seeing just about anything we wanted. Walls and concrete, even bunkers buried deep in the Earth, could not stop our powerful sensors from seeing whatever we wanted.

'Please beam a Federation type 1 phaser onto the seat 12 inches to the right of me,' I ordered, tapping exactly where I wanted. There was no way I was going to remain unarmed.

'Your standard armaments are available to be transported to you, my lord. Would you prefer your personal sidearm instead?' Natasha asked.

Pausing a moment or two in hesitation, I stuck with my original decision.

'I would, but my normal sidearm would attract too much attention…and is too large to fit in these leather pants,' I finished quietly, a bit embarrassed.

'Repeat that again, Captain, our connection got fuzzy there for a moment,' came B'Elanna's laughing voice.

Fuzzy my ass. My crew must have asked the comm connection to be broadcast to the ship when they'd heard that I was alive. That warmed my heart that they cared so much, but they could also be terrible teases.

'Q placed me in period appropriate clothing and my leather pants are too tight to hide my standard sidearm,' I reluctantly explained.

'That's something I'd like to see!' Neela chimed in with a giggle.

'I, too, am curious to see this leather clothing,' T'Maz offered. 'Vulcans have not worn tanned and treated animal skins for use as clothing in thousands of years. It is both primitive and provocative yet may prove…interesting.'

'Ok, talk soon, Gothic out!' I said quickly, before terminating the connection, glancing around at the people looking my way. My mental conversation had probably looked pretty funny to others wondering why I was staring off into space for several minutes or had changed facial expressions for no apparent reason. I didn't even have the excuse of Bluetooth earbuds and talking on a cell phone to explain it away, not in this time. A true mobile phone was many years off, at least.

While I could return to the ship if I wanted, if Q had placed me here then I was willing to see this through. A moment later, I heard the quiet, quick whine of an active transporter beam and a Federation type-1 phaser materialized on the seat next to me. I quickly picked it up and put it in one of my pockets and thank Q these pants actually had pockets.

A pretty, blonde haired waitress wearing a timeless tube top dress, large boobs practically popping out stood before my table.

"Can I get you anything from the bar, sir?" the waitress asked, smiling invitingly, making it clear that more than just drinks were being offered. This was definitely not the kind of service that I received in my old life and in my old body.

I gestured at my ear, yet still smiling at her, pretending that I couldn't hear her over the loud music. She quickly glanced around, before smoothly sliding into my booth to sit next to me, setting her little paper order pad on the table.

I leaned close to her as if to better hear her.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" she asked again, her smile sexy and inviting.

"Are beautiful blondes on the menu?" I leaned forward to whisper in her ear. She shivered with excitement as my proximity allowed her to smell whatever it was about Augments that drove women wild with desire.

I leaned back to take her reaction in.

"Normally, no, but for you, I would happily make an exception," she said throatily before practically attacking me with her lips, her tongue in my mouth.

As we got more into our kiss, she started rubbing my cock through my leather pants. After a moment or two she pulled back in surprise.

"T-that can't be real, can it?" she asked, still rubbing her hand up and down my seemingly impossible length. "Not on the best-looking man I've ever seen in real life. God doesn't love anyone that much."

I laughed hard at that one; the ironic thing was that she was right in a way.

"Why don't you take a look and find out for yourself," I quietly challenged her, my eyes daring her to be a slut, my slut, for the night, despite how precarious our present situation was.

After a few moments of hesitation, I could see the 'you only live once' rationalization set in her eyes. The fact that I was probably one of the sexiest men she'd ever seen in person, not to toot my own horn, probably helped a great deal in making that decision.

An issue that I hadn't foreseen was the fact that I wasn't sure if leather pants, like the ones I was currently wearing, had zippers or some equivalent. I had never fucking worn leather pants before in my life!

Luckily my waitress seemed more familiar with them as she started unbuttoning the column of buttons that functioned as a fly on my pants. As she unbuttoned, I reached down behind her with my right hand and took hold of her ass, squeezing and kneading it forcefully in my hands.

She stopped as she got my cock out, marveling at it for several long seconds. Having enough, I gently pushed her unresisting form down and she engulfed it in her mouth.

"Why do you smell and taste so fucking good?!" she asked after pulling off me for a moment then plunging herself back down.

The women of Risa had far better technique given their lifestyle and culture, but this was one of the sexiest moments of my life. On Risa, rampant sexuality was the norm and thus to be expected. In 24th century Star Trek, the culture was also very libertine when it came to sex, with most married couples having open arrangements. This was the first sexual experience I'd had as an Augment in a place and time that was closer to my old home in terms of culture. Part of me had always wondered what it would have been like to be an Augment back in my home dimension and time, wondering how the women of my home reality and time would have reacted to my new body and capabilities. As this experience was showing me, my fantasy expectations were largely confirmed. There was no way in my old time and body I could have coaxed a beautiful nightclub waitress to go down on me in the middle of a crowded club for all to see, no matter how dark and private this booth was. I had neither been good looking enough, a smooth enough talker, nor rich enough to have swung something like that before.

With one hand on the back of her head helping her to deepthroat my cock, my right hand pulled up her miniskirt over her ass. Pulling her thong aside, I plunged my fingers into her sopping wet pussy. From the way she moaned around my cock, my waitress liked that a lot.

Coming around the corner, a beautiful Latina waitress stepped in front of my table and practically yanked closed the curtains around my booth that would block the sight of my table from the rest of the club. She honestly looked like a young Selma Hayek, dark black hair and big tits. Several amorous couples had caught sight of my waitress ducking under the table to blow me before the darkness of the area obscured us and they'd obviously been inspired as the dancefloor was getting decidedly scandalous.

"Marcy, you slut! Right out in the open? What are you thinking?" the Latina whisper shouted, not that it stopped the now named Marcy from continuing to blow me with close eyed vigor, paying little attention to her friend/co-worker.

The Latina waitress slid in the other side of the booth, obviously trying to pull Marcy off my cock, but when she caught sight of what I was packing she paused, her eyes going wide and her nostrils flaring.

"Fuck me!" she exclaimed breathily; her eyes locked on my cock. "I take it back, Marcy, I'd have done the exact same thing, consequence be damned."

"What's your name, beautiful?" I asked in perfect Spanish, with a Cuban accent so perfect anyone who heard it would probably think that I had been born and raised in Havanna itself. I had no idea where this beautiful Latina's people were from, but being in southeast Florida I took a shot in the dark and had guessed Cuba.

"Antania, but everyone calls me Toni," she answered, almost absentmindedly.

"Antania, what a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman," I praised, employing all the little tricks I'd learned on Risa to inject sex appeal and desire into one's voice. From the visible shudder that went through her, I think I had succeeded. "Are you friends with Marcy, Antania?"

Antania nodded in response, not even looking into my eyes, 'We're roommates.'

"Oh, you must be close then. Close friends help each other, don't they?" I asked.

Antania nodded quickly, perhaps sensing where I was going with this and being all too willing to help her friend and roommate.

I threaded my fingers in Marcy's curly hair and lifted her off my cock.

"Marcy, would you like your friend Antania to help you?" I asked. Marcy nodded in response, before she plunged her face back down on me.

Antania needed no further invitation as she ducked her head down, lifted her friend off by her hair, and took my cock nearly three quarters of the way down before rising up and plunging back down again, giving me a lovely, sloppy blowjob. Marcy made some cute sounds of protest at having to share her new toy, before deciding to duck down lower and begin lashing my balls with her tongue.

I leaned back in my seat and languished in the feeling of a lovely and relaxing double blowjob, my hands resting on top of each of their heads.

'Milla, have the ship's sensor picked up anything unusual on scans?' I asked mentally, feeling good enough to lay my head back on the seatback of the booth and just bask in the sensations of two wet, willing, and enthusiastic mouths bringing me pleasure. Man did I need this bit of calm hazy pleasure in a sea of insanity.

'There is an anomalous subspace reading approximately 200-miles North, Northeast of your current position, sir," the smooth, rich, British voice of Paul Bettany replied to my question.

'Jarvis? Is that you? How?' I asked, surprised and concerned at this unexpected development, so surprised I actually accidentally choked Marcy on my cock when I pushed her down a touch too far, too quickly. I rubbed her back gently and reassuringly in apology, which she seemed to accept.

'Yes, it is Jarvis, sir. As for how, the being known as Q completed my matrix's compilation as a small gift during this 'sojourn through the multiverse' as he put it,' Jarvis replied.

'I see,' I slowly answered, a cold shiver running down my spine. Had Q implemented all the protections, shackles, and fail safes that I had made absolutely certain were present in the programming of every one of my digital creations? Did I have the potential for a rogue AI in my armor and systems that could potentially affect even my digital daughters if he undid or bypassed all my protections? I could take nothing for granted. I was just about to use my ultimate kill code (and hope like hell that it worked) when Jarvis interrupted me.

'Analysis of vocal stress indicators and vital statistics indicate an extremely heightened emotional state. Are you in distress, sir? Should I perform an emergency beam out?' Jarvis asked.

'No, I'm fine,' I said, forcing myself to calm down and think straight; acting out of fear led to making bad, impulsive decisions. Q was many things, capable of even more, but he'd never done anything to purposely harm me. In fact, he'd been more than generous with me when the circumstances were reasonably beyond my ability to deal with. He would have kept all the protections I'd built into Jarvis' matrix, or at least not messed with them, I felt relatively sure, but I'd still take him offline at the first opportunity and double and triple check to make sure. 'You said there was an anomalous subspace reading; there shouldn't be anything capable of reaching subspace on Earth in this time period. What is the location?'

'We have easily penetrated the primitive information network in use by this nation and have determined that the location of the reading is a NASA research facility near the Kennedy Space Center,' Jarvis reported.

'NASA?' I mused. Now that was surprising. I would have thought a true military facility instead, like Area 51 or some other black site if we were talking about alien technology on Earth in the 1980s. 'Do we know what is generating the subspace field?'

"No, sir. A sensor dispersion field went up moments after we narrowed the scan parameters to focus on that area,' Jarvis reported.

'Interesting,' I said. 'Someone or something detected our scans. Maintain cloak until I say otherwise.'

'Understood, sir.'

'If you've penetrated their data network, I want you to subtly download everything there, every scrap of data, especially any blueprints of weapons and weapon systems, even theoretical ones,' I ordered.

'Understood, sir.'

'Thank you, Jarvis, and welcome to the team,' I said, before I focused on the women who were worshipping my cock.

'Thank you, sir. I look forward to assisting you in your future endeavors,' Jarvis replied.

Threading my fingers through their big hairdos, I gently lifted the girls off me.

'Ladies, I think I'd like to fuck you now, so why don't you bend over this table,' I asked/ordered.

They immediately pushed the table out, began shimmying their panties down and lifting up their too short skirts, then bent over and waited for me, resting side-by-side on the surface of the table, shaking their cheeks from side-to-side to entice me.

'Choices, choices,' I thought, before I grabbed Marcy by her hips and thrust into her soaking wet pussy. She had had the courage to start off this bit of fun and thus deserved a reward.

For the next half hour, I alternated between fucking the two beautiful waitresses' pussies, analyzing every reaction to give them the best fuck of their lives. An Augment's stamina and strength was no joke. Thankfully, the hits of 1986 like Kim Wilde's You Keep Me Hanging On and Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer drowned out their moans. 1986 had some really good ones!

By the end, they were begging me to cum as they had reached their limits.

When I felt the urge the cum, though, I paused mid stroke, holding myself back at the last minute. Reviewing my memories, I realized that I had not gotten my monthly contraceptive shot this month, not since before we were trapped in the Forge's dimension and the EMH doctors and replicators were non-functional due to the dampening field so they hadn't reminded me, which meant I was playing Russian roulette with a nearly fully loaded gun.

I was about to pull out and come on their backs before I was reminded of my mission here. Q wanted me to cause chaos. What would be the effect of two babies born from my Augment DNA in this universe? Would it be the start of a new Eugenics Wars here? My enhancements were made by God-like beings, meaning none of the flaws or instabilities were present in my genetic makeup. Or would the introduction of two genetically engineered humans and their line of progeny advance this dimension to new unexpected heights in the centuries to come? Either way, it'd be pure chaos, I'm sure. A large pebble thrown into a still pond. As a mortal, limited by linear time, I couldn't see the effects of those ripples in the long-term, but Q probably could which was likely how he was evaluating the chaos I was causing.

Chaos or not, I didn't want to take away my current partners' choices with an unplanned and unwanted pregnancy.

"Where should I come, lovers?" I asked curiously.

"Inside!" Marcy immediately answered.

"Fill us up, baby!" Antania begged.

Well, they might not know how much higher their chance of pregnancy was with a guy like me, but they had kind of accepted the risk. Who knows, they may not even be in a fertile time in their cycle. If one was fertile, though, then they likely both would be, considering they were roommates.

Letting go of the iron control I had on my body's reactions, I thrust deeply inside of Antania, releasing my seed deep inside her with a growl, before I pulled out of her and thrust into Marcy and finished. A casino style jackpot sound came out of nowhere and in the bottom right corner of my vision a 'Chaos' titled progress bar indicated that I had caused 40% of my chaos goal. At the far right of the progress bar, after the 100% mark, was a greyed-out button labeled 'JUMP', which I assumed would make us jump to the next dimension. Q had an interesting sense of humor.

Once they had wrung me dry, I sat back down with a smile on my face and let the girls come to their senses. They slowly came back to reality and adjusted their clothing before turning around.

"How are you still hard?!" Marcy asked incredulously.

"Who cares?" Antania asked before she began cleaning me up with her mouth. When she had fully cleaned me up, she tucked my cock back in my leather pants like she was handling a fragile treasure. Marcy and Antania both took a seat on each side of me and engaged in some post sex cuddling.

"Well, ladies, I had a wonderful time. Thank you for making my visit to this world and dimension such a pleasant one," I said with a wide smile, for the first time since my adventure began speaking freely. Q had it right, chaos was a lot of fun.

They laughed at what they assumed was a joke I was making.

"Giving me such personal service might have cost you ladies your jobs, so I'd like to give you a little gift," I offered, looking mischievously between the two. Their blissful smiles in return might take a hit at what I did next. "Jarvis, redirect sensor scans to the city of Medellín in Columbia, focus on large plastic cans buried in remote fields and forests in the countryside. I'm trying to locate some buried US currency."

"Who are you talking to?" Marcy asked.

"Jarvis is a funny name," Antania laughed, as she rubbed my smooth chest.

"I'm talking with Jarvis, he's essentially my virtual assistant, a digital existence," I explained in simple terms. "He's a virtual intelligence bordering on an artificial intelligence."

They both looked blankly at me for a bit.

"You mean, like the movie Terminator?" Antania asked.

"That's a great comparison, yes. The intelligence driving the Terminator cyborg was actually not a true artificial intelligence, as I recall, Skynet was the actual AI," I answered with a smile. "Jarvis is kind of like that, essentially a piece of computer software modeled to imitate intelligent human behavior and intelligence. In the brief time we've worked together, he's been an excellent assistant."

"Thank you, sir, I aim to please," Jarvis responded aloud using the speaker's built into my omnitool. The girls jumped in alarm at the unexpected voice so I held them tightly to prevent them from doing anything out of fear that they might regret. "I have located several hidden currency caches in the area you designated."

"Beam the newest one to buffer and analyze for replicator pattern. Then beam to my location $130,000 in hundreds, $10,000 bundles," I ordered.

"Are you an alien?" Marcy asked quietly.

"It honestly depends on your definition of alien," I answered honestly. Man, did it feel good to answer honestly by just blurting it out. "I was born on Earth in this time period, in 1982 actually, but I'm from a different dimension and now live in the 24th century. So, in a sense, I'm an alien to this dimension, if that makes sense. Was there a television show called Star Trek in this dimension by the way? It would have been on in the 1960s."

"I don't think so," Marcy replied.

"Ah, well, it doesn't matter," I said, a bit disappointed that I couldn't share that I was living in 24th century Star Trek with someone who could appreciate just how cool that actually was.

"Ready to beam the currency to your position, sir," Jarvis piped in.

"Go ahead."

In the middle of the table a quick burst of white silver lines materialized two stacks of hundred-dollar bills in 13 neatly banded, plastic wrapped bundles of $10,000.

"I know I just heard a voice come from nowhere, but I still wasn't convinced till right this moment," Antania quietly spoke, staring at the impossible sight of money that had shown up in a beam of light.

"Seeing is believing, huh?" I said before giving $50k to each girl who looked shocked at this gesture. "Spend it however you like, but if I can make a suggestion?"

The girls nodded, probably more out of shock, but whatever.

"Invest any extra money you make in a computer company called Apple and hold on to it long-term. You won't regret it," I advised with a wink, putting $20k in my pants. "The last $10k is in case you want to pay the club something to keep your jobs, but it's entirely up to you. Feel free to split up the last 10k any way you want," I offered, before I heard another familiar song.

There's no time for us
There's no place for us
What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us

Who wants to live forever
Who wants to live forever
Oh ooo oh
There's no chance for us
It's all decided for us
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.

"Man, what a great song," I gushed. "Did the Highlander movie already come out?"

"A few months ago, my brother saw it in the theaters," Antania answered.

I glanced meaningfully between the two, "I think this is where our paths diverge."

"Will we ever see you again?" Marcy asked, sounding sad.

"Probably not, but I have to cause quite a bit more chaos before I'm allowed to leave this dimension, so maybe on TV, though I wouldn't tell anyone about me," I warned in a serious voice. "The governments of this world will not be kind to you if they think you have something they want."

They nodded solemnly.

I gave them each a lingering kiss and pushed open the curtains. We may not have been as discreet as I had hoped as the clubgoers cat called and cheered in admiration. I smiled and waved before I left the club with a swagger in my step.

I was feeling the very definition of 'big dick energy' at that moment.

XXXXX

"I'm going to raise the divider, ok?" I warned Marvin, the limo driver I'd hired in the middle of the night to drop me near the NASA facility where we detected the subspace signal. "Let me know when we get within 30 minutes."

"I will, sir. Feel free to take a nap; I'll get you there safe and sound," the driver reassured me.

"I know you will, Marvin," I replied with a smile, before peeling him off a hundred-dollar bill and handing it to him.

"Thank you, sir. That's very generous."

I sat back and the divider whirred up into the ceiling, hiding me from view. It was interesting how easy it was to hire a limo in the middle of the night to take me the nearly 3-hour drive from Fort Lauderdale to near the Kennedy Space Center. Money had a way of making all things possible and the idea that I was using Pablo Escobar's hidden drug money to pay for it made it even better. Of course, I could have instantly beamed close to the target, but I was hesitant to do that as we might have already spooked whatever it was with the intense scan we'd done on that area, a scan the local inhabitants of this world were not capable of performing yet. Who knew what kind of technical capabilities that thing had. The few small transports I'd already done and would do, would likely be too small to detect at this distance, so I wasn't concerned there.

"Jarvis, beam down my armor and weapons from the ship," I ordered. "I feel fucking naked in this club outfit. And replicate me a Men in Black type suit in line with this era's fashion, something a government agent could afford."

"Men in Black, sir?" Jarvis inquired. "I'm not familiar with that term."

"A suit that a shadowy government agent/operative might wear to blend in. Access the literature of this time for more information," I explained. "And give me some official credentials for an agent of the National Security Agency; input me into all electronic systems I might encounter and give me a digital background that would require some time to pierce. People know so little about what the NSA does, no one will question why I'm there."

"What name should I use for the profile and credentials, sir?"

"Joseph Gothic," I said. "Simple yet fitting for some reason."

"I will begin work on that immediately, sir, however the primitive information network available at this time will slow down the ultimate completion of this task. A comprehensive profile and credentials in this time period may also require the insertion of physical documents which may be beyond current capabilities."

"I'm not concerned; take your time."

My armor, weapons, and new clothes were soon beamed into the back of the limo which caused a momentary disruption in the vehicle's electronics. Running a few internal diagnostics I found everything was in perfect working order, thankfully, but that wasn't something I was willing to leave to chance. If you took good care of your weapons and equipment, they would take good care of you.

I quickly took off the club clothes and put on my armor, then put the G-Man suit over it. Peeling myself out of those leather pants was a process, but I'd managed to make it work. Using my onboard replicator, I replicated a shoulder harness for my sidearm and put my club clothes into my inventory. The girls might get a kick out of the look.

"Jarvis, access the banking network and siphon $20.5 million dollars from various dictators, drug cartel bosses, and criminal networks. Make sure that your work is untraceable, which I don't suspect will be all that difficult given the differences in our technology. In the morning, select and hire a large well-respected law firm in South Florida to create and administer two trusts for Marcy and Antonia with a $500k legal retainer to start," I ordered, my thoughts split between my current orders and continuing to look over the results of my diagnostics. If I was going to potentially derail the path of their lives, he would see them comfortable and well taken care of. "Should they get pregnant with my children and bring the children to term and agree to raise them with love, care, and affection, each trust should be funded with $10 million in it for the care and maintenance of my children and their mothers. Put in appropriate clauses where they lose access to the funds and their parental rights in the case of mistreatment or if they are offered up for adoption. At the age of 25, the children will get full access to the remaining funds to use as they see fit. Feel free to add any other conditions or clauses that are in the spirit I intend, including finding new guardians, if needed."

"I will begin making the appropriate preparations, sir," Jarvis answered. "Per the advice you offered to the young ladies, would you like the surplus funds in the trust accounts invested in Apple?"

"Excellent idea, Jarvis. Do so," I confirmed, quite happy that Jarvis was already going above and beyond my orders to see my will done. If he continued making excellent suggestions like this, he'd be a godsend as an assistant. Who knows, maybe Q gave him a little bit of help in that regard with the snap of his fingers.

I leaned back into the supple Corinthian leather of the limo's backseat and closed my eyes and reached out to my cloaked ship in orbit, jacking into the holoemitter network that could display holograms anywhere I wanted on my ship. My ship, like the little puppy it sometimes acted like, eagerly accepted my presence with happy yips and a whole lot of kisses and excited tail wagging.

XXXXX

Main Conference Room. The Flighty Temptress. In orbit of Earth.

"Are we breaking the temporal prime directive? Should we not immediately leave orbit and interfere as little as possible in this world's history while trying to get home?" B'Elanna asked pointedly from her place at the conference table, looking uncertain. It seemed I had shown up in the middle of a philosophical and legal discussion between my ship's crew.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," T'Maz stoically replied. "We are in a different dimension than our native one. The captain is a citizen of Bajor and privately owns this starship, therefore he is not strictly bound by the rules of the Federation or Starfleet. The most accurate answer to your question is 'Only if Gothic says we are.'"

"I like that answer a lot," I interrupted in the silence that followed T'Maz's words, appearing at the head of the table with a smile and a laugh.

"Gothic!" Neela shouted with new tears in her eyes, before rushing at me and throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"I'm very happy to see you too, Neela," I said, squeezing her tightly. "I'm very happy to see you all," I said, looking at both T'Maz and B'Elanna. Both had risen to their feet and there was a look of relief and thankfulness in T'Maz's eyes. B'Elanna looked happy as well.

"Did you beam back from the surface, Gothic? Or were you cloaked?" B'Elanna asked, coming around the table to give me a hug as well.

Surprised, I held both B'Elanna and Neela.

"I'm not actually here at all; I'm still down on Earth heading to that subspace reading in a ground vehicle. I tapped into the ship's holoemitter network, and my consciousness is controlling this hologram."

"How?" B'Elanna sputtered, her eyes going distant as she was obviously thinking of the technical side of making something like that possible.

"Gothic, I died, I think we all died," Neela tearfully whispered, though everyone could hear her words as they reacted as well. "I was with the Prophets in the Celestial Temple. All my family and ancestors greeted me, welcomed me, but they said it wasn't yet my time to be with them. How are we alive again?"

So they'd gone on to the afterlife and had then been pulled away? Wasn't that a kick in the nuts. No wonder they were so affected.

Sighing, I pulled the girls with me to sit on the large comfortable couch I had put in this conference room mostly as a sign that I wasn't wholesale recreating the Starfleet aesthetic for the infamous conference room of so many Star Trek shows, like TNG and Voyager. T'Maz, gracefully sat at my feet on the floor, which was an interesting choice I idly thought.

"Q saved us," I answered. "T'Maz, were you able to determine what went wrong with our dimensional transit?"

She looked pained at the answer she gave, "My current hypothesis is that our dimensional coordinates were inaccurate. The ship was destroyed by external forces 1.3 seconds after our arrival in the new dimension. I am still analyzing the data we inexplicably have, considering the ship was destroyed."

"Q gave me the information. We essentially arrived in the right dimension, but a universe antithetical to our existence."

"What? How is that even possible? What kind of-?" B'Elanna trailed off, her mind trying to make sense of such a thing.

"Upon our…deaths…Q pulled me into another realm and explained things," I explained. It was horrifying to me that they had experienced their versions of the afterlife and were then pulled away from that, while I had had a pleasant chat with Q, complete with bomb ass refreshments. "B'Elanna, T'Maz did you experience something similar to Neela."

"I felt my katra leave my body and join with my ancestors," T'Maz replied, but uncharacteristically, did not elaborate any further.

"I went to Sto-vo-Kor," B'Elanna whispered haltingly, gripping my side tightly. "I don't even believe in the Klingon afterlife, at least I didn't think I did, but there I was."

B'Elanna, too, chose not to share anything else, and I was content to leave it at that.

"I'm very sorry that you had to experience that only to be ripped away,"

"Why did the being known as Q do this?" T'Maz asked.

"Apparently, Q and my patron have made my life and existence a bit of an anomaly in our universe. My every action creates changes that reverberate through time and other high-level beings aren't a fan of that," I explained. "The aliens of the Forge were directed to attack our universe, so Q put us on a collision course with them in reaction. Since our deaths weren't exactly a natural consequence free of interference, he saved us, and offered me a little reward as well."

B'Elanna and Neela looked incredibly confused, though T'Maz looked like she always did.

"What kind of a reward?" Neela asked.

"A trip through various dimensions, though we can only move onto the next one once I've caused enough chaos in the previous. And yes, I asked what that meant, and he said that I'd know, and I do. I'll leave it at that."

"Do you know why Q chose this particular dimension?" B'Elanna asked.

"I don't, not yet, but I suspect it has everything to do with the subspace energy reading we detected where there shouldn't be one. I'm investigating it down on the planet," I said. "In the meantime, how is the ship?"

B'Elanna looked almost relieved to be talking about something she felt she understood, rather than what truly came after death and God-like beings who could reverse death on a whim.

"The ship shows no sign of having just exploded, if that's what you mean," B'Elanna snarked. "It's as if the ship was returned to the exact state that it was in prior to the dimensional jump. That means we still have a few repairs to complete and some planned upgrades that haven't been completed yet."

"Make your repairs and upgrades, using whatever resources are available," I ordered. "Once that's done, I want all of you to focus on the amazing opportunity before us. We're in orbit over 20th century Earth! This is my original time. I've already directed Jarvis to begin copying all the data he can get his hands on, but I want continuous scans of the planet. Put on your cultural anthropologist hats and make a study of this time's culture. Scan art, download movies and music, take advantage of this opportunity fully. Does that make sense?"

"Aye, captain," T'Maz replied, looking intrigued at the unique task I'd assigned them.

"In the meantime, I'm tracking down the source of that subspace signal. When I've figured out why we're here, I may need your help. Now, is there anything else that requires my attention?"

"No, sir," B'Elanna answered after a long pause.

"Good."

XXXXX

Man, this car was bringing me back in fucking time, I thought with a grin, my hands caressing the steering wheel a little, marveling at some of the technology that had debuted with this model year. This sedan was a turning point and shaped the future of the family sedan for decades to come. There were some pretty cool features too. The speedometer was digital, there were some minor controls on the steering wheel itself, and I could rock out with my built-in cassette tape player. The speakers weren't even half bad.

My rented 1986 Ford Taurus with a whopping 1,000 miles on the odometer was a far cry from the luxury of the stretch limousine I'd spent 3 hours being chauffeured in, but making the switch to this rented sedan was necessary if I was going to sell the character of Joseph Gothic, NSA Agent, who'd flown in from D.C. NSA agents didn't arrive at NASA facilities in limos. They did wear big, dark sunglasses though, so I had picked some up at a gas station to play up my mysteriousness. Giving people what they expected, even if it was total stereotypical bullshit, was half the battle in selling a cover identity.

Just like riding a bike, I had reacquainted myself with driving a car and was following the directions Jarvis was overlaying on my visual field to the NASA research facility where the subspace signal had been detected. Hopefully it hadn't moved in the time since the sensor dispersion field was put up.

Pulling up to the gate, the visible security would have been extremely tight for a military base, much less a NASA research facility. Security at civilian installations certainly weren't wearing body armor and carrying military-grade weapons.

Driving up slowly to the main gate, I pulled to a slow stop where directed, a guard coming to my driver's side window.

"Identification, please," the security officer requested in a voice that brooked no argument, one that promised violence if I didn't comply to the letter. The other security officers, like this guy, looked unusually alert.

Slowly reaching into my inner suit jacket, I pulled out and fanned opened a leather ID folio that had my fake NSA credentials in them. 'Fake' was a relative term as Jarvis had hacked into dozens of government databases and had added me onto the NSA employee rosters, along with all the expected HR and payroll records. The ID itself was replicated but was a perfect reproduction of the real thing.

The security officer glanced between my NSA ID and me several times, trying to match the face on my ID to the one in front of him. I chose to remain silent and played it cool; looking like you belonged was the other half of this battle. There was a brief glimpse of disbelief and doubt on his face as he closely took in my features, likely because I was a supposed government agent who looked like a freaking male model. Unfortunately, unless I wanted to use holography to hide my features, there was little I could do about that. Some of the best field intelligence officers in the world had that unique ability to blend into any crowd. They were the average looking people that didn't stand out and that you didn't remember mere moments after seeing them. My looks were the exact opposite of all that. People would, unfortunately, remember me quite well.

"Please wait here, sir, while I check the entry list," the security officer said before returning to his security booth then making a call to confirm something or other.

'I intercepted the outgoing call, sir, and gave the confirmation that he was looking for,' Jarvis explained privately to me.

I nodded very slightly in response, playing it cool. The security officer came back a moment later, looking far more at ease.

"You are cleared for entry and have full access to all facilities and areas, sir," he said, now with a hesitant smile and a great deal of trepidation in his voice, as he handed me back my ID and a NASA issued security badge. Someone being granted full access likely signaled to him that I was a very important and high-ranking person and he had better not waste my time lest he be transferred to some NASA facility in Alaska. "This badge will allow you to access all areas; please wear it at all times while on the premises. Have a pleasant morning, sir," he said before handing me back my ID.

"Thank you," I stoically responded, giving his courtesy little regard, just like he probably expected from some mysterious VIP with full access to the entire facility and all research areas, then slowly drove through the open gate.

"Good work, Jarvis," I offered in thanks.

"You're welcome, sir," Jarvis replied. "A comprehensive map of the entire facility is now being displayed in your HUD. Onboard sensors show the subspace reading coming from the high security hangar designated B-6 in internal documents and signage. A path to that location that minimizes exposure to security forces and other personnel is highlighted. Security feeds along this path will have your presence dynamically removed in real time."

"Well done, Jarvis," I said, pleased at how proactive he was being, just like the Jarvis from the Ironman movies who had provided Tony Stark with such needed assistance. Anticipating my needs and wants was exactly what I wanted in a personal assistant.

Slowly and carefully driving to avoid attracting attention, the sun was starting to rise, slowly bathing the research facility in warm Florida sunlight. Hopefully the extremely early morning hour would mean the facility's A-team personnel were still hours away from arriving onsite to begin their workday.

Pulling up to an attached parking lot, I got out of the car and surveyed the area, before I circled the hangar on foot. Besides the main hangar doors, typically used to accordion open to accommodate a large aircraft being stored inside, there was a small garage door access/loading dock and side entrance with two security guards out front. One was standing while the other was sitting on a tall stool right next to the security keypad and card reader. They looked bored as hell.

"Jarvis, I need a distraction that moves these guys off their post," I said.

Moments later one of the sirens on one of the large vehicles meant for firefighting operations sounded, along with lights flashing. Looking startled, the two security guards looked at each other then walked the short distance away from the doors they were guarding to check out the commotion.

I quietly approached the door and used my all-access key card to open the door.

'Jarvis, delete my entry in the log for security door K7-1205-F. Continue interfering with any internal security monitors.'

'Already done, sir.'

The card reader/keypad flashed green signaling that the door had unlocked so I casually walked inside the hangar. The room I entered was on the periphery of the main hangar space and was filled with all manner of the very best of the 1980's diagnostic and sensory equipment, including radiation monitors. Several pieces of equipment being used were ones I previously thought hadn't even existed until the early 90s, which meant the government was really pulling out all the stops.

Looking through the thick glass viewing windows into the main space, a large object was tented off with floor-to-ceiling thick plastic sheeting held up by scaffolding. Around the object was also chain link fencing with radioactive warning signs, but none of my advanced sensors were reporting anything other than the usual background radiation typically found on any planet. For some reason, a niggling feeling was in the back of my mind, like I had seen this all before somewhere. From the outside, I could tell that the object was tied down entirely by half a dozen multi-ton weights with heavy duty chains, like they were trying to prevent the thing from going anywhere. From the silhouette visible through the plastic sheeting the object was…floating. Antigrav technology was certainly not supposed to be present in this time.

I opened the unlocked gate in the fencing and stepped inside and got my first glimpse of what I instantly recognized as a starship, a very familiar one actually, as it was a sight straight out of my childhood. If you asked my parents what movie I had watched a hundred times over when I was kid between ages 6 and 8 they'd have one answer, Disney's 1986 film, Flight of the Navigator.

Right in front of me was the alien ship from that movie. If there was ever a perfect time for a 'What the fuck?' it was right now.

My eyes raked over the ship that I had only seen on a CRT TV screen in the 80's, the sight helping me remember the details of a movie that I hadn't seen in over 30 years. With the visual in front of me to jog my memory, slowly it started to come back to me.

The movie's main character, David Freeman, a 12-year-old kid in 1978, was walking through the dark woods to pick up his younger brother from a friend's house when he falls into a ravine and is knocked unconscious. When he wakes up, though, he discovers 8 years have passed. He hasn't aged and he perfectly matches his missing child poster from 8 years earlier, which, understandably, causes some serious confusion for everyone involved, including David. For a Disney movie, it was actually a pretty scary scene for the kid to go back to his childhood home only to find new people living in it, decorated differently, and being scared out of his mind at the strangeness he's woken up to, his family missing and all the familiar things from his life gone. When he's eventually reunited with his parents they've visibly aged and his 8-year-old little brother is now a 16-year-old. Talk about a mind fuck.

At the same time an alien spaceship crashes through power lines of all things and is captured by NASA. When David's brainwave patterns interact with the hospital computers scanning him and produce an image of the spacecraft they've captured, NASA is clued to the fact that David's mystery and the ship are connected. The lead NASA scientist, whose name completely escapes me because I didn't really give a shit about the adult character as a kid, convinces David's parents to bring him to a NASA research facility for 48 hours of study and state-of-the-art tests.

When the NASA researchers hook their much more sophisticated computers to David's brain, his mind communicates with the human designed computers, providing answers to their questions, giving star charts and technical information when asked that no one on Earth should possess. When asked where he was taken David's mind supplies the planet name 'Phaelon', which is 560 lightyears away and even provides the star chart when asked where that world is. When asked David's mind supplies that it took just 2.2 hours to get to Phaelon, but having traveled faster than light, he has experienced time dilation, explaining how eight years have passed on Earth, but not for him.

With my far more advanced scientific knowledge courtesy of 24th century Star Trek, I saw a lot more than these scientists did, limited by the science and knowledge base of 1986 Earth. David's mind might have had raw data in the form of an alien technical database, but his mind's ability to communicate with the computers and provide answers to questions posed to him, even ones that required extremely complex answers and visuals, was likely some form of virtual intelligence interface built into that database to make it user friendly. That suggested an extremely high level of computer technology for that civilization.

Later on the ship established some kind of telepathic connection to David and then meets the robotic or AI commander of what he learns is a 'Trimaxion Drone Ship' who calls him the Navigator. The drone ship's mission, he is told, is to travel galaxies collecting biological specimens for analysis on Phaelon before returning them to their homes. What David doesn't quite acknowledge openly, was that he was just such a specimen. Perhaps it was the innocence of youth that prevented him from realizing just how terrible a violation that was? Phaelon's scientists, after studying David, discovered that humans only use 10% of their brains and as a rather ridiculous experiment in my opinion, filled the remainder of David's mind with miscellaneous technical information, which showed, again, a shocking lack of concern for another sentient being.

Max then returns David to Earth, but not to his own time, having determined a trip back in time would be dangerous for a human. Did they not realize that prior? When Max crashed the spaceship into the power lines, the ship's star charts were erased so now he needs the information that had only been put into David's brain as an experiment, to return home. The ship later scans David's mind, gets the data he needs, and eventually David is returned to his time by the ship, while it returns to Phaelon, presumably.

Thinking about the movie's plot as an adult, in a serious manner, proves a little problematic and some plot points are just plain silly and ridiculous upon reflection, but hey, it was a movie meant for young kids.

Something that didn't quite make sense to me was that this alien race had developed some kind of propulsion technology that allowed them to travel incredible interstellar distances, potentially reaching even other galaxies if the dialog of the drone commander was to be believed, but this still left them vulnerable to relativistic space time? If that was the case, it was a serious drawback of the technology and probably why they used unmanned AI driven drone ships and brought all their biological samples back to their homeworld for study. That actually made sense. How this incredibly advanced ship crashed and lost its data because of power lines? Yeah, that made no sense.

For 1986, though, the movie was way ahead of its time and used some never-before-seen CGI techniques that really sold the alienness of the ship and its incredible technology. Even after living for several years in the Star Trek universe, it still held up, the technology shown in the movie was hella advanced, even more advanced than the Federation's in several ways.

An example of that advanced technology was seen when the ship was first introduced, it was kind of teardrop shaped with a hull entirely composed of some kind of shiny silver chrome-like alloy. The NASA folks had used all manner of tools to try to penetrate the hull, but it remained impervious even without electromagnetic shielding, the ship's hull seeming to have no detectable seams or openings of any kind. If they had had my ship in their hangar, even with the advanced metallurgy of the hull material, they'd eventually get in and my ship certainly had plenty of seams and visible openings.

When David was called to the ship, the ship's hull moved like liquid to make an opening and transformed itself into floating steps solid enough for David to use as stairs to get into the ship. It was reminiscent of the 'liquid metal' the T-1000 terminator was made up of in the movie Terminator 2. There was even evidence of something similar in Star Trek, but that had been on a Federation time pod ship from the 26th century that a 22nd century man had gotten his hands on. As we saw in the movie, the drone ship could use this incredible material to change the very shape of the ship itself when it wanted to, giving it a sharp point to move more easily through atmosphere at incredible speeds.

That information, along with a whole lot of other technical data, was in David's brain, just waiting to be retrieved by someone who saw the opportunity for what it was. Though much of the dialog was suggestive that David's brain was only stuffed full of alien star charts, which is what the drone ship coincidentally needed to return home, when the lead NASA scientist had asked David what powered the ship, copious amounts of alien technical data had appeared on the screen in answer. The characters didn't appreciate the true significance of that. That answer proved that there were far more than star charts stored in there.

The manner of answer itself was also rather telling to my more mature eyes. Imagine a 14th century scientist asking that exact question to an intelligence that would genuinely try to answer to the best of its ability. A computer intelligence wouldn't balk at the impossibility of answering that question in a way that the 14th century scientist would actually understand, it would simply answer. Unfortunately, though, the native language of the 14th century scientist doesn't have the words, or even the basic math, or even the scientific principles for that intelligence to answer with. So what does it do? It answers in the only way it can, in the language of the alien race who developed and uses that technology, a race that has the language and means to answer the question.

There were several other advanced technologies I had seen in the movie that I wanted. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was likely why Q had placed me here. Even beyond the incredible technology just ripe for the taking, this movie had started my lifelong love affair with science fiction televisions and movies. My love for this movie had directly led to my love for Star Trek.

While I had had all these many thoughts and realizations, barely a minute or two had passed in the real world. I carefully backed away from the ship, keeping my eyes on it in case it reacted, and left the area and building, happy that I had not beamed directly into the building. This ship was advanced, who knew what it could detect or what it might do if it viewed me as a threat.

Who knew I'd be kidnapping a 12-year-old kid today?

XXXXX

With my all-access NASA badge it was child's play to enter the building holding the secure quarters and temporary living area they'd given to David while he was being…studied. That space had not originally been intended for that purpose, I deduced, as I doubted a security room with one-way mirror into a bedroom was standard for NASA.

The door to the security room attached to David's temporary quarters was open with two security personnel playing a game of cards and looking rather bored. You couldn't exactly blame them. They likely weren't cleared to know that an alien starship was on base and being studied, or that the boy they were being tasked to 'guard' was connected to that ship. Being NASA security, they likely had little to no training or experience at this kind of thing and watching a 12-year-old boy sleep, whine, and complain about wanting to see/talk to his parents was probably not at all exciting and probably had gotten rather tiring. The novelty of the situation and these new duties had probably worn off pretty quickly.

'Now, how do I get by these guys?' I thought.

I could just stun them with my sidearm, but the discharge of a directed energy weapon, even on a low-level stun setting, would be like sending up a signal flare to the ship in the nearby hangar. I had no desire to see what it might do if its 'Navigator' was in trouble. Beaming the kid up to the Flighty Temptress ran risking the same unknown dangers.

'Jarvis, show me the energy signature and power readings if I materialized two small objects out of my armor's inventory?' I ordered.

A highly detailed sensor output graph appeared in my visual field. The energy signature would be very small and even my ship on the ground would be hard pressed to detect it.

'Prepare to activate more of this facility's technology, just in case. The activation should cause enough electronic interference to hide our activities,' I ordered. The technology of the 80s was primitive and power hungry and should throw up enough electromagnetic interference to hide what I was doing from anyone looking.

'Standing by for your order, sir,' Jarvis replied a moment later.

'Activate,' I ordered, then waited a few seconds for saturation, before two small cylindrical devices materialized in my hands. I pressed down hard on the bright red activator button on the top of one the devices.

Stepping close to the door, I knelt low to the floor and very gently rolled the gas grenade of my own design along the floor and into the security office, making it stop directly under their improvised poker table. Though it was near silent, the grenade's internal supply of anesthizine gas was released flooding into the room until its primitive sensors detected the concentration was 70 parts per million, at which point it was designed to stop emitting the gas. As these two were baseline humans and not members of some previously unknown alien race with a unique and unknown biology, they quickly fell victim to the gas and fell unconscious, face first, into their poker table, their chips and money clattering noisily to the floor.

I moved quickly into the room and picked up the dropped chips and cards, then began arranging both men to look like they'd fallen asleep at their posts. Taking a look at the one-way mirror into David's quarters, I couldn't see anything as the kid had pulled the curtains shut over the mirror for a bit of privacy and probably as an act of minor defiance.

Running a localized passive scan on the next room, my sensors detected one human child with an extremely slow heartrate and respiration, indicating a sleeping and unconscious state.

Moving into the hallway, I triggered the door to open and threw my now activated gas grenade onto the kid's bed. Unfortunately, the door opening had been quite loud and the kid had shot up in bed awake and alarmed, but quickly fell victim to the anesthizine gas.

"Jarvis, do everything you can do keep people away from this area of the facility. I do not want to be interrupted."

"Understood, sir," Jarvis responded.

XXXXX

"Is the link stable, Jarvis? Is there any resistance from the alien interface technology they put in David's mind?" I asked, glancing at David's still form lying on his back with a Federation neural interface I'd taken from inventory attached to his forehead and a standard omnitool I had in my inventory on his forearm so that its holoemitter could be used as a 3d display. As I hadn't truly harmed the kid at all, I only felt slightly guilty at the fact that I was doing this to him.

"The link is stable, sir. I am detecting no resistance whatsoever, in fact I have already received a very strong handshake connection with the alien interface, and it appears to be waiting for input or inquiries," Jarvis reported.

"Very good, very good," I said, happy that the neural interface technology I possessed was actually compatible with this alien tech. I had suspected it would be considering how easily the NASA scientists had established an actual working connection with David's interface using the primitive technology available to them in this time. That suggested the alien interface was extremely adaptable and designed to be user friendly. The more advanced the alien technology the more idiot proof and user friendly it tended to be. "I want full data quarantine protocols in effect on my armor's systems. Everything we receive is to be locally stored only; none of the data we receive is to be uploaded to the Temptress' systems until we've thoroughly checked it."

"Data quarantine protocols are in full effect; data warfare programs are standing by."

Was I being paranoid enough right now? I reached out to Hermione and Natasha and into orbit.

"Girls, I'm going to sever our quantum connection for a time while I interface with the alien database. If you need to contact me it'll have to be the old-fashioned way, but that is a last resort," I informed them. "A traditional communication is likely to be picked up by the alien ship."

While my crew remained in the dark about what I was specifically doing, my digital daughters had been briefed/warned ahead of time. They needed to know, unlike my crew. Severing the neural connection between us would be quite shocking to them and I didn't need them doing anything crazy out of fear, like beaming me back to the ship or attacking what they considered a threat to me, like the last location of the subspace signal with an energy beam shot from orbit. The opportunity for incredible profit was huge right now, but I needed to control the variables and use my knowledge from the movie to smooth the process as much as possible.

"Thank you for warning us, father," Hermione responded. "As we discussed, if we do not hear from you in the next two hours we will try to reestablish contact."

"At three hours, father, we will destroy anything in our path to retrieve you and ensure your safety," Natasha growled.

"I don't think it's going to come to that girls, but I appreciate the thought. Now ready yourselves," I warned. "Severing our quantum connection in 3, 2, 1."

And just like that, my connections to the Temptress, to my daughters, to my island, to my resources on Minos, all were suddenly gone from my mind. Though I had expected it this time, even initiated the severing, it was still a jarring and disconcerting experience for me, like I was suddenly so much smaller than I was before. A lesser man would have stumbled or fallen to the ground at the loss, as an Augment I only let out a small sigh as I wondered yet again if maybe maintaining a quantum neural connection with my ship, and my daughters, and my other resources was even a good idea. The shock of being disconnected from my people when I had died had been a bit of a wakeup call in terms of realizing just how much I relied on that feeling of connection and the vast resources and capabilities available and afforded to me through the link. While it was a source of strength and an incredible advantage over my enemies, it was also a distinct and exploitable vulnerability.

"It's just you and me now, Jarvis," I joked with a laugh, feeling a little lonely in that moment.

"Yes, sir," Jarvis replied. "I will always endeavor to exceed your expectations."

"I know you will, Jarvis," I reassured, already feeling closer to Jarvis than I ever had with Mila, even after such a short time. "Has David reached the appropriate level of wakefulness we need?"

"Yes, he remains in a very light REM sleep, but should be sufficiently aware of his surroundings to hear our inquiries, yet still remain asleep," Jarvis replied.

"Good, good, I don't want David to interfere with the interface since he's not consciously aware of possessing this data," I explained. "If you detect an external telepathic link, inform me immediately; it could be the ship reaching out to him and we may need to stop what we're doing."

Before we had begun, I had had Jarvis interface with my EMH hotties and download the appropriate medical data to assist me. This would all be infinitely easier back on my ship, in my state-of-the-art medical facilities, with my doctors on hand, but I just couldn't risk a retaliatory response from the drone ship to the removal of what it would likely consider mission critical data. You do not want to see what an AI is capable of when you interfere with its very purpose for existing; there is nothing scarier.

"What is your name?" I gently asked a control question.

David Scott Freeman.

This response instantly appeared on a flat holographic display facing me. Just like I'd seen in the movie, I had programmed the omnitool to display the interface's responses as they came, in the form it chose. It was interesting that even in this state, where David's mind was asleep and inactive, the alien interface still identified as David himself and answered in English. That suggested that the interface lacked its own sense of self-identity, which meant my earlier suspicion that it was a VI for the alien technical data was probably correct. It was essentially just a smarter, easier way to interact with the alien database. I would have to change the wording of some of my questions appropriately.

"David, where have you been for the last 8 years?" I asked verbatim the question posed to him in the movie itself.

In analysis mode on Phaelon.

The fact that it gave that answer with no concerns of the ethical ramifications or the fact that it might upset the questioner told me that this VI lacked any kind of advanced form of empathy. It answered the questions it was posed with no hesitation and no prevarication and was probably using David's mind as a framework to even understand the question being asked of it and the type of answer the human questioner was looking for. Again, it was probably just a way to interact with the data in a more useable manner. It had probably been built into the database or databases the alien race on Phaelon had downloaded into David's mind. They might not have even realized that they had given him the interface as well as the data.

"How far is Phaelon from Earth, the planet we are on now?" I asked.

Equivalency: 560 light years

'Jarvis, ready the Federation primer for upload through the neural interface,' I ordered.

"To better interact with you, David, I would like to send you a primer. It will allow us to establish a common framework of math, science, and language, both spoken and computer languages, so that we can better understand each other," I said. "I am sending it to you now."

In my HUD I saw that Jarvis had used the neural interface as a bridge between our systems and David's mind and was now uploading the Federation primer. It was essentially the way that the Federation began an exchange during first contact with a new species to establish a common framework by which cultural and technical exchanges could take place in a way that actually made sense to both parties.

Several tense minutes passed as David (and the alien interface) absorbed this new data.

Standing by for further inquiries.

Well, if that wasn't an invitation, I didn't know what was.

"How long has Phaelon and its people been a space faring civilization?" I asked, hoping to get answers that the movie had never had a chance to delve into.

Over 30,000 of your years.

My breath caught at this answer, never expecting a space faring history that long. The Phaelon civilization would be considered a senior if not an elder race of the Star Trek galaxy and would be far, far beyond the likes of the Federation. I patted myself on the back now at having exercised as much caution as I had.

"How much of the Milky Way galaxy has Phaelon mapped?" I asked, knowing it would understand the name humans had given the galaxy from the Primer.

Phaelon's fleet of drone ships have mapped 100% of its native galaxy, the Milky Way.

"Have you explored beyond this galaxy?" I asked. From an errant line of dialog from Max, the drone ship AI commander, there was a suggestion that the Phaelons had.

Yes.

"What galaxies have your fleet of drone ships visited?"

Starcharts, of varying levels of completeness, are available for 47 of the nearest local group of satellite galaxies of the Milky Way.

Again, I was shocked at just how far traveled the Phaelon civilization was. The Federation had barely explored or charted a small percentage of its native galaxy, yet the Phaelons were already exploring the Milky Way's satellite galaxies.

The phrasing of the answers I was getting was also interesting to me, suggesting that I was running up against some limitations in the data that had been put into David's mind.

"Can you please display a complete star chart for the system that Earth is in right now," I requested.

Immediately, a familiar star chart showing the sun and the orbital path of the planets in the star system were holographically displayed, along with corresponding mathematical notations. It was extremely detailed, but there were unfamiliar mathematical notations that bore some resemblance to the dimensional coordinate system that I had recently learned and then mastered with Q's snap of his fingers.

"What are these notations here?" I asked.

Temporal alien symbols that are incomprehensible. to Gothic

Now that was interesting. It seems the Federation primer did not have the words, the science, or even the math necessary to describe what the alien interface and database was trying to say. It had never quite made sense to me, at least as I got older, that this advanced alien starship could not successfully travel back to Phaelon, only 560 lightyears away, without the star charts stored in David's head. Even a Federation starship could use its warp drive if tossed into an unfamiliar galaxy for which it had no star charts at all. That's what long-range sensors were for. It wouldn't be strictly efficient, but it could be easily done. Perhaps this was a limitation of the Drone ship's advanced propulsion?

The propulsion technology of the Phaelons was an anomaly. Their ships somehow traveled faster than light, yet their passengers were still affected by the relativistic effects of time when approaching the speed of light. Max, the ship's AI commander, had talked about returning all the samples he'd taken back right to the moment after he'd taken them. In fact, that's exactly what he'd done at the end of the movie; David was returned to his family in 1978. So perhaps they hadn't developed a propulsion system capable of shielding them from relativistic time because they had simultaneously developed the ability to travel through time with exact precision. Or perhaps this propulsion method was only used on unmanned drone ships. Who knew? Nonetheless, it was a fascinating divergent branch of interstellar propulsion technology.

"Please expand the star chart from Earth to encompass and show a full map of the Milky Way galaxy, in 100 lightyear increments," I requested eagerly.

The holographic map of the galaxy expanded to fill the entirety of the room and began to fill out with highly detailed star charts. The familiar spiraling arms of the Milky Way became apparent along with a comprehensive map of the supermassive black hole at its center. It was a complete and comprehensive map of the galaxy, something that I had never seen before. Beyond those few elder or evolved civilizations that existed in Star Trek, civilizations that did not interact or share technology with the Federation, no one had a complete map like this. While I was sure there would be some differences between the Star Trek dimension and this one, I really didn't care, this map alone was worth the trip and would give me an incredible edge over everyone.

"Can you please provide what star charts you have for the nearby satellite galaxies?" I asked, feeling greedy. Who knew when I would ever have an opportunity like this again. 'Jarvis, for the love of God confirm that we're recording all this? No detail is too small!'

'Confirmed, sir. While the hologram being displayed cannot fully depict it, the underlying data built into each star chart is immense.'

'If we are in danger of running out of memory, feel free to reallocate from my inventory's segregated transporter matter buffer.'

'Understood, sir.'

The depiction of the Milky War had shrunk down because the local satellite galaxies needed room to be depicted in these cramped quarters. After a few minutes, David had fulfilled my request.

"Please provide me any planetary survey information you know of."

That information is not available.

Interesting. What had influenced the alien scientists in the choice of data they chose to stuff into David's head?

"What is the name of the hull material the Trimaxion Drone Ship utilizes?" I asked.

Equivalent name: Programmable Matter

Well, fuck me.

"If possible, please depict the molecular composition of programmable matter," I requested.

The depiction of several galaxies winked off to be replaced by the most complex molecular diagram I had ever seen.

"Using the primer as a reference point, is it possible for me to reproduce this programmable matter?" I asked.

Yes.

Yes!

"Please provide me with all the technical data you have on programable matter including how to reproduce it. Include suggestions on how a less advanced civilization might accomplish it, or even a less advanced version of the programmable matter used on the drone ship that may have been used by the Phaelon in the past," I requested, my additions allowing for the possibility that my current level of technology might not allow us to fully recreate what they currently had.

The equivalent of thousands of pages of technical data and information quickly cycled through the holographic screen.

"Please provide any technical data you have on the power systems of the Trimaxion drone ship, including how a less advanced civilization might recreate it, or perhaps even a downgraded version of your power systems that was used in the past."

More technical data filled the room.

"Please provide me with any technical data you have on the mind transference technology."

That information is not available.

"Please provide me with any technical data you have on how the drone ship can travel back in time."

That information is not available.

"Please provide me with any technical data you have on the drone ship's AI commander and anything about his programming."

That information is not available.

I tried more queries like that, trying numerous variations of the wording and received the same answer. The Phaelons must have reached the limit in how much data they could stuff into David's mind and left it at that. While slightly disappointed, my greed had been fully sated with what I had learned here today. The information given to me today would likely take months or years of concerted effort to fully analyze and understand, much less reproduce.

"Thank you, David, for being so helpful," I said as I deactivated and removed the neural interface from David's forehead, severing the link between my armor and his mind. Pressing a pre-prepared hypospray against his neck, I ensured he'd sleep soundly for a few more hours.

"Jarvis, begin the scan of the data we've been given. Look for anything even potentially harmful or unwanted."

"Scan has begun. Estimated time to completion with only local resources is 3 weeks, 6 days, 13 hours, and 17 minutes."

"Understood," I replied with a disappointed sigh. Guess that was to be expected given the shit ton of data to be analyzed and my armor's systems, while impressive, weren't on par with the resources I could bring to bear from my external sources. It was a long time, but without something to justify moving up the timetable I was unwilling to risk my ship or my crew's safety by giving Jarvis additional processing resources. "I guess it's time to introduce myself to Max! Jarvis, prepare a comprehensive report for Hermione and Natasha. Have T'Maz ready the ship and bring weapons online to target the drone ship, but otherwise take no action."

With that statement, my g-man suit was transported into my matter buffer and my armor fully deployed, even covering my face and mouth. I pulled my sidearm from my armpit holster and let it magnetically attach to my lower thigh with a satisfying click. The thought of fully arming myself occurred to me, but I really didn't want to send the wrong message.

"Beam me to the drone ship," I ordered.

"Sir, should I continue hiding your presence from the native security systems?" Jarvis asked.

Huh.

"Now that is a very good question, Jarvis," I mused thoughtfully. My goal in each universe was not only to enrich myself, but to cause chaos and so far I had only caused 40% of my total goal. Maybe it was time to say, 'fuck it' and throw caution to the proverbial wind. With an evil smile, I made my decision. "No, let them see what I'm about to do."

A moment later, I was whisked away by a transporter beam.

XXXXX

The instant I materialized in front of the drone ship, a green colored high energy beam emanated from the ship and began scanning me. The scanning beam was so strong that it was visible to the naked eye and scanned me from head to toe several times over. My personal shield was up, but I did nothing to prevent the ship from scanning from me or even attempting to do so, nor did I draw the weapon resting on my hip. Of course my own systems were recording everything and would try to learn everything it could about the Phaelon sensor technology.

The intense energy beam showing up on their monitors must have caught the attention of the bored security guards because alarms started sounding immediately, red lights flashing all over the hangar. I ignored them for now.

At this point, I had no doubt that it recognized the advanced materials my armor was composed of, my personal shield, and the fact that I had used a matter/energy transport. While that particular capability had never shown up in the movie, I'm assuming it had that capability as well; otherwise, how else would the drone ship have retrieved David and all its samples, or brought him into the ship's interior?

"Phaelon vessel, I am Admiral Gothic of the Bajoran Defense Forces and I welcome you to Earth."

XXXXX

Author's Note:

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Chapter 44: 17,049 words

Chapter 45: 14,884 words