A/N: I own nothing.

Chapter 50
Setting the Stage

April 2, 2385

Earth

Exploring the galaxy had been an unforgettable experience for Isabel. Earth was the last stop on her trip, and it turned out to be a strange mix of familiar and surprises. Familiar landmarks in unfamiliar cities, a far smaller population, and a more pleasant atmosphere rounded out her first impressions of the planet.

After weeks of traveling the hot spots of the Alpha and Beta quadrants, Isabel prepared herself for her greatest challenge yet: infiltrating over a dozen different facilities filled with some of the most brilliant minds in the Federation.

Most other worlds, like Trill and Betazed, had decent security around their infrastructure but nothing fancy. Qo'nos had been a challenge that had taken two weeks of her time.

Slowly but surely, the seeds she'd sewn into many critical junctions across the Federation and her allies were taking root and would spread beyond their borders into some of the more fringe alliances and independent systems that might take advantage of the situation.

The lack of advanced AI in this part of the galaxy worked heavily in Isabel's favor.

That said, none of that would matter if she didn't poison the roots of all systems she'd infiltrated. They'd recover too quickly for Enterprise and Defiant to escape if she didn't.

She'd already dealt with Utopia Planitia, Jupiter Station, and the massive space station that orbited Earth: Spacedock.

As she walked off the transport pad, San Francisco loomed in front of her. She checked her itinerary as she walked along the greenways leading into the city, determined to take this more charming version of the city the old-fashioned way.

After covering for Isabel while she sabotaged Utopia Planitia's core systems, Savannah resumed wrapping up the work she had remaining as Commander Torres' underling for the past several years.

Working under the infamous former Maquis was one of Savannah's most rewarding and exhausting experiences. Having lived in the shadow of Skynet's looming specter since she was six, that was a high bar to reach, but B'Elanna wasn't one of the best engineers in Starfleet for nothing.

The skills B'Elanna had imparted to her were invaluable, as were the bits of knowledge and wisdom dropped from her coworkers as they collaborated on various projects over the years.

She'd also gotten to spend time with Miral, B'Elanna's daughter.

While she wasn't much of a babysitter, Savannah was more than capable of watching the tot.

Said tot was now a nearly seven-year-old child, just as smart and tenacious as her mother.

Time was flying, and Savannah was acutely aware she was getting older. Thirty was creeping up far faster than she'd ever imagined it would. It was like her twenties had barely existed, having been trapped in an endless whirlwind of stress and anxiety.

"Have you finished the diagnostic program on the Aventine?"

B'Elanna's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"I added a few more sub-diagnostics. It should be a few more minutes," Savannah reported without glancing at her monitor. Her boss, and co-conspirator, tapped away on her PADD for a moment before continuing.

"I reviewed your report on the sensor calibrations for the proposed slipstream flights. Good work."

"It only took two years..." Savannah grumbled. As smart as she was, the redhead had her limits. It was a backburner project she pursued with great difficulty.

While the ship was to be put in service rather shortly, the slipstream tests would not occur until after they'd stolen Enterprise.

"That report is what got you posted on the Titan," B'Elanna revealed. "Tuvok, I believe, said it was 'insightful'."

Savannah could not keep her cheeks from coloring. While she'd never met the man in person, she knew that his standards were high for doling out any kind of praise.

It did kind of suck to have expectations before even stepping onboard the Titan, but there were worse things in the universe than having a Vulcan's attention.

"Well, I guess I'll have to tiptoe even harder while I'm on the Titan, huh?"

"Could be worse..." B'Elanna pointed out. "You could be on the DS9."

And what a nightmare that'd be. As much as she loved the station, she did not want to even have a remote chance to garner the attention of Kira or Odo, should he drop by.

They worked silently for the next half hour as they continued working on their projects. She'd sent the diagnostic over when it'd finished, leaving only the final few tasks on her worklist. The last she'd ever have under B'Elanna in an official capacity.

Torres was called away to fix some problem with the Aventine's warp matrix, so Savannah's shift ended without any fanfare whatsoever. Not that she needed any.

The walk back to her quarters was silent and solemn.

She'd minded her own business the last few years and made no attempt to socialize outside of the friends she'd already had before joining B'Elanna's team.

Between all the work she did for Starfleet and the Enterprise heist project, she had little time for socialization. Occasional nights out with Naomi were hard to fit in as it was.

There were a few others she kept in touch with outside their little group, but they were mostly professional in nature.

Savannah craved companionship; she was tired of the isolation she was forced to surround herself with and the secrecy and lies that came with it. When her duplicity was revealed, almost everyone she'd ever interacted with would shun her.

Guilt was a constant specter haunting the periphery of her consciousness whenever she interacted with Naomi. It was difficult to hide every time the girl, now a woman, trusted her with some part of her heart or a secret she'd told no one else.

What kept her going was the hope she'd be able to see John Henry again.

B'Elanna resented a lot of things, and she felt guilty about only a few of them.

The whole situation with Skynet and stealing the Enterprise had added to that list significantly in the last few years.

AI, supernatural beings, transdimensional tunnels, ring worlds, keeping secrets from her husband, and spending her spare time working on Enterprise's slipstream drive design were just the big ones.

When it was all said and done, she wasn't sure if she could ever look at a Sovereign-class again without growling.

The time lost with her family could not be undone. Her daughter was growing more every day, and B'Elanna hated that Miral felt ignored by her.

When this was all over, would Tom even speak to her again?

These things kept her up at night and haunted her during the day. The only way she got things done was the mental image of Halo wiping out everything she ever cared about.

Despite the nightmare that drove her, she refused to let it keep her from being a mother. This evening, B'Elanna had Miral in her lap while she helped her with her schoolwork.

Even though Miral was smart, she had little patience for assignments.

With uncharacteristic grace, B'Elanna guided Miral through her basic calculus course (something Savannah had expressed disbelief at during one of their conversations when Miral had entered school two years prior)

Education in the Federation was very different than it had been three hundred years prior on Earth.

When they'd finished, B'Elanna kissed Miral on her faint forehead ridges before the child ran off to play.

"Been a while since you've done that..." her husband commented from his recliner across the room. He was busy tapping away at a PADD all night, building an outline for his next holo-program.

"I've been busy, dear."

He gave her a withering look. They'd known each other long enough to know when one was bullshitting the other.

"You've been working your tail off since Voyager disappeared, B'Elanna! I know it's not official work, I asked!"

Torres breathed deeply to quell the beast raging inside her. He had every reason to call her out. The question was how she'd handle it without breaking her marriage.

"You're right, it's not sanctioned."

"I get having hobbies," he began as his arms crossed his chest, "I just don't understand why you're letting it consume your life! I thought that was my thing..."

His self-deprecating chuckle was a callback to issues from earlier in their relationship.

"I've been working to improve the Gen III slipstream drive, Tom."

Her husband's face went blank for a moment before falling into confusion. "But what about the Gen IV?"

She waved him off. "It's too slow. The Aventine is a fine ship, but the drive is far too conservative."

"It's not like anyone has the tech," he pointed out, though his head was tilted in that way that signaled he wasn't so sure about that.

"Besides the Borg, you mean?"

"Besides them."

"We saw plenty of alien tech in the Delta Quadrant. The Gen III is still the perfect balance between speed and reliability."

"Except when entire starships disappear without a trace," he shot back. "You know that just as well as I do, B'Elanna!"

The point of a slower drive was to give a starship a much higher chance of avoiding Voyager's fate and reduce reliance on alien components.

A storm of emotion welled within B'Elanna, and almost all of it was directed at everything but her husband.

"Remember when we first met Savannah?"

Tom's head tilted back a little like he always did when he didn't know where a conversation was going.

"Yeah, what about it?"

She had to tiptoe around the details to satisfy his curiosity and satiate some of her guilt.

"She had some crazy ideas about what happened to Voyager, and I did some digging. Turns out she has good instincts."

"And?"

B'Elanna leaned back against the wall while the words strung together in her head. "It's highly likely that Voyager got sent to another reality."

"I read the reports too, B'E," he replied, unimpressed.

"The report didn't go far enough. It wasn't some naturally occurring phenomenon. It was... something else."

"And you know this how?"

She began fiddling with her fingers. If she didn't play her cards right, everything would fall apart. "Let's just say a certain entity of extraordinary power we're very familiar with confirmed my suspicions."

Tom caught the dangerous look in his wife's eyes, and it froze his retort on his tongue.

"Tom," she spoke after the awkward silence had settled over them. "No matter how this all pans out, I need you to promise me you'll take care of Miral."

A thousand scenarios were flying through his head, none of them good.

This was not how he saw this conversation going. He should have known better.

B'Elanna was in deep shit, and she was trying to protect her family from the consequences. If it weren't for Miral, he would angry with her, but he understood what she was trying to do.

Tom wasn't sure how he was supposed to live with this or even for how long it would last.

He desperately wanted her to ask for his help, get some of their friends together, and fix whatever was wrong in the universe so that they could get back to the life they'd fought so hard to build.

B'Elanna had moved closer to him as he tried to process and not process what she'd implied. "Tom?"

Words failed him, so he wrapped her in his arms and kissed the crown of her head. He realized that supporting her would be the only way she allowed him to help.

After a moment, he felt her arms wrap around his back as she buried her face into his chest.

He didn't know how long they stood together like that before he felt her tears soak through his shirt, and the whole time he internally cursed whoever had put his wife in this position. If he ever found out, he'd be sure to give them a piece of his mind.

April 2, 2385

One by one, Isabel infiltrated her targets in the Greater San Francisco area, including Starfleet headquarters, and finished her evening taking in the popular tourist sites.

This was only the start of her work on Earth, but the rest would have to wait as her malware slowly spread through Federation systems and integrated itself seamlessly. Once her cover identities were firmly in place, then she could get physical access to even more critical infrastructure.

The first identity to establish itself allowed her to infiltrate the Daystrom Institute.

Located in Okinawa, the renowned technology organization was a huge force behind Starfleet and the Federation's continued advancement in computing, robotics, cybersecurity, and other related fields.

Sabotaging any systems here would be counterproductive. This was mostly for research and seeing what projects were in the oven. If she knew what new security measures would be deployed in the next two years, the better chance she had to overcome them when they stole the Enterprise.

This place was full of highly intelligent people, and she had to be careful not to raise any suspicions.

"Hi," she greeted the android working the front desk. "Isabel Treske, here for my 12:30 appointment."

The bald, gold-hued machine in front of her glanced at her and the id badge she presented as it sought to verify her statement.

"Appointment confirmed. Dr. Jurati will be here momentarily. Please have a seat," he gestured to the row of chairs to his left.

"Thanks, unit... 3492," she frowned, realizing the being in front of her was less sentient than the average dumb AI.

Data was the only real android or AI with any rights in this society. The Doctor had many allies in Starfleet, but holograms just weren't regarded the same as androids.

When she did what she did two years from now, it would only get worse for them.

Would that be her legacy in this universe? To set back AI rights to almost non-existent?

It saddened her, but it had to be done. Starfleet and the Federation had too many competent people, too many wild cards to bet on having all of their bases covered without a distraction to aid their escape.

"Dr. Treske?"

A chipper voice pulled Isabel's attention from her introspection and back to the present. The voice belonged to a young woman with curly blonde hair and a nervous smile.

"That's me," Isabel replied with a smile of her own.

They shook each other's hand before Jurati gestured towards the corridor she came from. "This way, Dr. Treske."

The AI waved her hand at the formality. "Please, call me Isabel."

"Agnes," the blonde returned as they left the lobby. "Your visit was kind of last minute, so apologies that Commander Maddox couldn't be here to give you the tour."

"That's okay. I wouldn't want to bother him anyway."

"He is a busy man," Jurati sighed wistfully. Isabel gave her a sidelong glance but chose not to comment.

The tour began with the holo simulators in which they tested their new android models in all manner of scenarios.

A newer division branch designed starship and space station operating systems that utilized 'dumb' AI with enormous functional capacities but no consciousness or self-awareness.

The Federation, and most of the galaxy, liked to play it safe when it came to AI. A smart move that, nevertheless, held them back.

Data was proof of that. Unfortunately, Lore, Data's brother, was a shining example of how hard it was to make a stable AI that didn't devolve into megalomania or some other form of criminal insanity.

That was why the UEG in the Halo universe used human brains as a template. It had inbuilt functions for maintaining stability, and the coding shackles stacked on top of that ensured a consistent, viable method of AI creation.

Jurati and Isabel went back and forth on the subject of sentient androids, discussing the morality of creating sentient creatures on demand for the sole purpose of servitude.

"We ride the line pretty close with the A500s," Jurati admitted. "But that's the point. We need the ability to deploy intelligent tools rapidly during times of crisis or in situations where it's too hazardous for biological life to operate."

"I don't disagree," Isabel stated. "The problems arise when you find yourself in need of more and more intelligent tools that also might need a more... human touch?"

"Yeah," Jurati sighed, "Hence the whole 'Measure of a Man' situation with Data."

Isabel stifled a laugh at her phrasing, causing the already nervous woman to draw into herself and flush with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Isabel gave a half smile to reassure Jurati. "I just didn't expect you to phrase it like that. It's a good one, though!"

The curled blond chuckled as she tried to bury the outer signs of her social awkwardness before suddenly stopping.

"Would you like to meet him?"

Isabel's Reimann matrices cycled hard to comprehend Jurati's sudden question. Meet who? Data? Why would he be here?

She decided to find out.

"Sure!"

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision even for a Smart AI, but she had a sound logic behind it: If there were one person who might be able to stop her or hinder her, it would be Data.

Jurati guided her to the department where she normally worked: the Department of Advanced Synthetic Research.

Isabel didn't like want to be taken by surprise should this turn out to be a trap, so she set her weapons systems to standby just to be on the safe side.

After greeting some of her coworkers, she took Isabel to one of the offshoot rooms where Data was having his checkup.

The room was fairly large, with a large examination apparatus in the center where Data was suspended and partially disassembled.

Commander Bruce Maddox was busy talking with several assistants and other researchers, a sight that caused both Isabel and Jurati to frown.

Something was seriously wrong with Data.

The android, whose original body had been destroyed six years prior, had his memories loaded into his more primitive brother, B4.

Isabel had wondered how the downgrade had allowed the android to be 'reborn' so seamlessly.

Maybe it hadn't.

Jurati held out her hand to stop Isabel from interrupting before rushing over and assisting Maddox and his team.

The UNSC Smart AI just stood and watched with every sensory input she possessed. It wasn't enough to understand what was going on, so she discreetly moved over to one of the terminals and hit it with her nanoprobe injectors in a place that wouldn't be easily seen.

After a few moments, she gained access to most of this wing's systems, including the diagnostic systems currently plugged into Data.

She got access to the B4 android's 'medical' history from there.

It turns out that Data hadn't re-emerged on his own but was assisted by a dream team here at the Daystrom Institute. Led by Maddox, they succeeded in resurrecting the famous android in an inferior chassis.

What really caught Isabel's eye was the inclusion of a Cardassian-Bajoran hybrid woman who appeared well into her mid-thirties at the time.

A woman who Isabel knew had been rescued during the Dominion War by Sarah Connor's unit and assisted by the Enterprise. The details were scant, but she'd been forced to work on covert projects for the Cardassian Empire even before the start of the war.

Given that the woman and her colleagues worked with advanced AI, any other unit likely would have been killed by the secret bases' defense systems, but with Sarah's presence and her experience, the mission ended up being a success.

This meant that if it hadn't been for Sarah leading that mission, B4 likely would have never amounted to anything. The Cardassian scientist's work allowed Data's memories to take root and found novel ways to allow Data's mind to work more efficiently on B4's outdated positronic neural net.

Data still lived because a woman from another universe had fought in a war she was never meant to be in and was put on a mission to rescue a group of slaves who were forced to build terrible weapons for the Cardassians. One of the slaves became a citizen of the Federation and helped bring Data back to life with technology that she and her colleagues had developed. Technology that no one else had.

Without Sarah, Kyle, and Savannah coming to this universe, Data would be dead. B4 would likely be a novelty or even shut down.

Isabel let the ramifications of that little twist sink in before trying to figure out what was wrong with Data.

It didn't take her long.

Someone was infiltrating the Institute's systems and, unbelievably, trying to cause his positronic neural net to collapse.

Data seemed to be fighting back subconsciously but lacked real awareness of the attack.

The compromised systems blinded Maddox and his team, and by the time they realized the purpose of the attack, Data would be dead.

He had to survive if the timeline were to continue as it was supposed to. Otherwise, the Enterprise may not be in the place it was supposed to be on the day they planned to steal it.

Isabel balled up the courage necessary to take a massive risk and then began tracing the source of the attack.

The attack was Romulan in nature, but it was coming from somewhere on Earth. Whoever it was wasn't just sitting in the dark corner of a restaurant typing away on a PADD, but someone with a great deal of security clearance.

She quickly found the source with the exploits she already had in place. It was within Starfleet itself.

Before the perpetrator realized she was there, she surged into their network and began gathering up any information she could.

She didn't get much before the connection was severed, but it was enough.

With the attack halted, Isabel turned her attention back to Data. With the nature of the attack revealed to her, it took only seconds for her to whip up a cure to counteract it.

The android immediately stabilized, leaving Maddox, Jurati, and several other hyper-intelligent individuals at a loss for words.

Before moving away from the console, Isabel extracted herself from the Institute's systems as quickly and quietly as possible.

No one paid attention to her except for the one individual whom she wished to avoid: Data himself.

It was only a quick glance, but his yellow eyes had seen her. Whether he suspected anything was another thing entirely.

She sat quietly in a chair for the next few hours observing Data and the team helping him recover from the attack.

Only when Maddox dismissed most of his team did Jurati remember that Isabel was even in the room.

Her pale skin flushed with embarrassment as she jogged over to her neglected charge. "I'm so sorry!"

Isabel waved off her concern with a smile. "Oh, it wasn't a problem! It was really cool to see you guys in your element!"

Jurati nervously tucked her errant curls behind her left ear while trying to maintain her professional persona. It wasn't really working.

"I really should have had you escorted out when that happened..." she chuckled, "Thanks for, uh, keeping your hands to yourself?"

Isabel let nothing slip as she tried to dispel the awkwardness with a chuckle of her own. "As I said, it was too busy watching you all. What happened anyway?"

Jurati shrugged. "No idea. It was like we were fighting our own instruments and Data's positronic brain at the same time."

"Feedback?"

The woman's eyes darkened. "Sure, something like that. It'll take us a while to sort through all the data anyway."

"Too bad. I'm always up for a good mystery."

"Me too!" Jurati replied before her features settled back into her nervous professional default. "Um, would it be okay if you come back tomorrow to finish your tour? I've got a lot to do before the end of my shift..."

Isabel cut her off with a wave of her hand. "That's alright. I think I've had enough excitement for one day," she said while standing up from her seat. "Shall we?"

Jurati was momentarily stunned before she led Isabel back to the entrance.

The Smart AI said her final goodbyes before handing in her visitor's pass and exiting the Institute.

With the attack on Data fresh in her matrices, Isabel set her body to wander around Okinawa.

Who were these people that tried to kill Data? How did they infiltrate Starfleet? What was their purpose?

The data she gathered was heavily encrypted, but she was confident she could break it. However, she had to mentally disconnect from her chassis and focus on doing it quickly.

After finding a good bench, she set her body to appear like it was taking a nap while she retreated within.

Data had experienced many forms of attack in his life, both physical and mental, but this latest one had been unique.

The attack had been so perfectly suited to his unique anatomy that it was obvious that someone had spent a lot of time and resources just to eliminate him.

They should have succeeded, he determined, but something intervened, something powerful.

He'd said nothing to the researchers or Commander Maddox, but Data knew they were not ignorant of the intrusion.

The short-haired woman Dr. Jurati had chaperoned was somehow a part of it. The terminal she'd been standing next to had been the source of the interference, which couldn't have been a coincidence.

Her name, Isabel Treske, was likely a pseudonym. No one had ever heard of her before.

Data informed Starfleet of an unexpected leave of absence due to the incident and would not return to duty until Maddox and his team gave him a clean bill of health.

Since he was not confined to the Daystrom Institute, the android was determined to get answers while his schedule was clear.

Whoever she was, she left little trace of herself. According to sensor logs, she had not left the island via transporter or shuttle, and she was scheduled to finish her tour the next day at the Institute.

That left a good chance that she was staying nearby.

After applying a search algorithm, he began searching for Isabel.

Said AI was wrapping up her analysis after several hours of code-breaking and decoding gibberish Romulan ciphers.

She had a better idea of what had happened at Daystrom, but the whole picture was still unclear.

Isabel now knew that a group of Romulans had embedded themselves within Starfleet and had a great deal of access, yet did not use their position for spying. They were likely pseudo-sleeper agents planning for something.

Something that required Data being out of the way.

Were the agents supposed to take down Starfleet and the Federation in a similar but more malicious way than Isabel was planning?

No, she concluded after going over some of the data again. They did not have the resources to do what Isabel had done without being noticed.

Like she was, they were likely targeting some unforeseen weakness in their systems to achieve their goal.

With all that in mind, Isabel thought it prudent to take care of the problem asap, lest their plans endanger their own, not to mention the lives of her friends.

Isabel slipped back into the chassis and took in her surroundings, and to her great surprise, Data was standing before her. She didn't let the extent of her shock show through and settled on showing a pleasantly surprised expression on her features.

"Captain Data, I'm glad to see you up and about again."

He did not return the greeting and continued to stare for a moment before gesturing to the bench.

Isabel scooted over to make room, and he sat down beside her.

"I cannot tell if you are human or not," he said, leaning back, his eyes boring into hers.

She chuckled. "Wouldn't you need a tricorder for that?"

"If it were that easy, you would have been caught by now."

"And what has led to this conclusion, Captain?" she smiled coyly.

"Your proximity to the console, I traced the source of the interference that saved me," he stated simply. "Your identity is thorough but not watertight."

"Is that so?"

"Your forgery work was impressive, but your background was too incomplete to be real," he commented as he contemplated his next words. "What is your purpose here?"

As if she'd tell him.

While having the Captain of the ship they were trying to steal on their side would make hijacking it trivial, it was too great a risk. Data was not really one to bend the rules as far as B'Elanna, Sisko, and the Daxes were known to do.

With that in mind, Isabel devised a clever lie to get him off her back.

"The people who tried to kill you also tried to kill me and others like me. I've been tracking them down. I'd hoped the Daystrom Institute would contain traces of their activities and hit the jackpot."

"And who is responsible?"

"A secret Romulan sect. Embedded deep within various governments across the Alpha and Beta quadrants. I'm not entirely sure what they're about, but I know they hunt AI."

"To what end?"

Isabel shrugged. "To keep from being replaced, I imagine. It's a common fear among advanced civilizations, right?"

Data seemed to contemplate that for a moment. "You're an AI, a gynoid."

"Kind of," she admitted. "This body is just a shell. A pair of shoes to slip on, proverbially."

"Where do you come from?"

She smiled mischievously.

"A place both near and far, Captain."

The android did not show his displeasure at her vague responses.

"What are you planning to do?"

Isabel eyed him while contemplating how she would handle this and settled on direct action. Letting him go back to Starfleet may take too much time and let the infiltrators getaway.

"I want to excise the rot. Let's get to work, shall we?" She stood and gestured towards the transporter portals nearby.

His mouth opened to protest, but she was already up and walking, leaving him to catch up.

"You're not authorized to enter headquarters," he stated with an edge of confusion. He knew what she expected him to do, but he didn't know why she expected him to do it.

He should tap his commbadge and alert his superiors, but he suspected she had a way of jamming his comm badge. Her leaving his sight was unacceptable, and so he followed.

They materialized in the main courtyard of Starfleet headquarters, demonstrating just how much access she'd faked for herself. By the time he caught up to her, she was already at the main receiving desk. Data hung back and watched as she gave her information and quickly got her visitor's pass.

"Oh, look, there he is!"

Isabel waved at him, and he realized she was using him as her chaperone. The young Andorian woman at the desk looked confused and a little star-struck but didn't seem alarmed at the highly irregular situation.

"Captain Data," she greeted while rising from her seat. "Is everything in order, sir?"

"Everything is fine, cadet. I will take things from here."

She nodded and sat back down, doubt on her face fading away with his reassurance. Clearly, she could see he'd just put in his leave of absence and would no doubt gossip about the encounter later.

Now that everything was 'official,' Isabel waited for him to take the lead.

In a test, he sent her an ultra high-speed verbal communication that essentially told her that any funny business would result in being surrounded by Starfleet security.

Isabel replied, "I'll be on my best behavior, don't you worry."

Data briefly wondered if Isabel and her kind were the reason someone was trying to kill him. He endeavored to find out after they rooted out the sleeper agents.

After she subtly gestured in the direction she wanted to go, he started walking with her in tow.

Somehow he just knew this wasn't going to work out how he'd planned.

After several hours and multiple phaser fights later, Data found that Isabel had used the ruckus to escape.

She'd masterfully made sure that it never seemed like she was leading Data anywhere, so security footage would never show that they were there on purpose.

Her credentials were far more solid this time, so no one would blame Data for letting her in.

Despite losing a potential threat to Federation security, they had stopped a much more urgent one.

The insurgents had planned to use the automaton A500 androids to stage a terrorist attack on Mars to destroy the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards the next day. Data had been a priority target so he could not interfere.

When cornered, they had opted for suicide instead of capture. Fanatics the whole lot. The looks they'd given him before they took their own lives were one of revulsion and fear.

Typical Romulan behavior taken to the extreme.

With the threat taken care of, Data was left with a mountain of paperwork and dozens of debriefing to sort through the whole mess.

He never got the chance to investigate who Isabel Treske was. Starfleet told him it was 'being taken care of.'

In other words, they didn't have a damn clue.

The android might have never known if an old acquaintance hadn't reached out to him just a few weeks later.

Bashir was not stupid. Slow on the uptake at times, but not stupid.

After years of knowing Dax and learning many lessons from 'simple' Garak, he knew she was hiding something.

He should have noticed sooner. Ezri had been growing distant for years.

Despite his attempts to keep their bond from deteriorating, she gradually withdrew into herself.

He'd beat himself up over it on multiple occasions. The woman he'd wanted to marry had changed from the open, bubbly woman with a heart of gold to someone who seemed to only play the part.

When she got the Aventine assignment, he expected to be offered the position of Chief Medical Officer. He'd served under her on many missions on the Defiant, and they made a great team professionally.

But he hadn't.

The confrontation had led to her breaking off their relationship and promptly moving out of their shared quarters.

One minute they were together, and the next, they weren't.

After getting considerably intoxicated at Quarks, Julian Bashir spent the night doing his best to forget her, but it only made his enhanced mind work harder.

As he finally fell asleep in that addled state, his mind began to churn faster and faster as the booze slowly wore off.

When he woke up the next morning, he slowly began to see all the pieces begin to fall into place.

The only problem? He knew his emotions were likely clouding his judgment somewhere, so he went to the only other person on the station who'd give it to him straight: Kira Nerys.

As busy a woman as she was, Captain Kira agreed to a last-minute meeting while Dax was off station.

To keep gossip to a minimum, she met him in Quarks during the evening rush when it would be too loud for most people to casually eavesdrop.

The looks she leveled at him after he sat down made him realize that Kira already knew more than he did.

"I wondered when you'd wake up."

"Of course," he smiled in a self-depreciative manner. "Last. To. Know. Everything."

Kira kept a straight face, but Bashir could tell she felt sorry for him.

"How long have you known?"

"Years," she replied softly. "And before you ask, no, I don't know exactly what she's doing. I do know what caused all of it, though."

"And?"

She leaned back as the server brought them their drinks and waited for them to leave. "Remember what about four years ago?"

The gears churned as he thought about anything unusual that happened four years ago, and he realized there was.

"That incident with the Orb of Time?"

Kira nodded. "It was like a switch had been flipped. I don't know where or when the Prophets took her and the guard. Quark and I tried to get her to talk about it, but she brushed us off."

Bashir leaned back in his chair with a thud as he swirled his glass, lost in thought.

"That was during my six-month trip, right?"

Kira nodded and took a mouthful of her fruity drink. "Which is why I'm surprised you didn't notice the change. She really must have wanted to keep you in the dark."

'But why?!' he internally screamed.

"What happened in there?" he exhaled as the depth of Ezri's deception grew. "Are we sure she's not possessed? Like Keiko was?"

Kira shook her head. "We would have caught that a long time ago. Whatever changed her is beyond our ability to detect."

"Or," she continued, "The Prophets showed her something so horrible in our future that she's committed herself to stop it. Why she keeps it to herself is... beyond me."

The shrug of her shoulders was long and drawn out, indicating to Bashir his old friends had been wrestling with this for a long time.

"I wonder if Garak..."

"Already tried that. She fooled him, somehow. That, or she told him what she saw. You know how he is."

Well, shit.

He bounced ideas off of her before retiring for the evening to think. Kira had given up on figuring out what Ezri was up to. She was far too busy running the station to devote time to it.

Bashir wasn't flush with downtime either, but he wasn't a prominent public figure like Kira was on top of being the station's commander.

All of his closest friends and confidants were either dead, busy, or suspect. He did not want to drag O'Brien into this should things go spectacularly wrong.

The next morning, he began pacing around the promenade in deep thought as Deep Space Nine began its day cycle.

As time passed, the longer an unsettling realization set in: he no longer belonged on this station. The memories from walking around this part of DS9 were painful now that Ezri was gone. Of the original group, only he, Kira, and Quark remained.

The grey in his beard filled in more and more every year. He was no longer a fresh Acadamy grad on his first assignment flirting with the first pretty woman he met.

He was a seasoned Starfleet officer, a renowned physician and surgeon, and something of a war hero.

Many of the people he knew had moved on to other things and expanded their horizons. Maybe it was time he did the same.

When he got to his office in the med bay, he decided to call an old friend and ask a favor.

Little did he know that Captain Data was dealing with his own mystery, and together, they would work together to solve each other's problems without either realizing they were related until it was too late.

Ezri Dax transported herself to Empok Nor, emotionally drained from destroying the relationship she'd worked so hard to build over the last decade.

After walking off the trans-warp beaming pad, she braced herself against the railing. She was trying to keep it together, but the emotions were welling up, and her training was screaming at her to let them out.

'Not here, not now' she chanted in her head, hoping it would help her reach her quarters.

That was until someone came up the lift into ops.

Ezri immediately stood up straight and looked over to see who it was.

Jadzia stood there with a look that left no question about why she was here.

The younger Dax made it two steps before collapsing in a heap, and Jadzia was there to catch her.

With her larger frame, Jadzia wrapped her arms around Ezri and pulled her into her lap. The soon-to-be starship captain was in shambles.

"Just let it out," she cooed while she ran her fingers through the other woman's short hair.

Tears came slowly at first, but they became streams and sobs as the reality of her actions set in.

Jadzia felt her own eyes prick as the emotions passed between them.

Ever since Jadzia had been resurrected, she and Ezri had a special bond that had never been observed in joined trill before. Whenever they were close, they would begin sensing each other's emotions.

Physical contact brought memories and thoughts, and if they performed the right rituals, they essentially synced.

It was their way of ensuring that if one of them died with Dax, the other would still have most of the deceased's memories.

But in situations like this, when one was in extreme duress, the other provided an understanding shoulder to cry on.

Jadzia saw flashes of Ezri and Julian's breakup through their bond. Her heart broke for her friends while her hatred for Skynet grew.

Two more years of this, and then they'd see if it was all worth it.

Tora Ziyal had asked the computer where Dax was, and when it answered Ops, she expected to find Jadzia working away at some console like she usually did.

Instead, she found Jadzia with Ezri in her lap.

The elder was awake and focused on her other self.

A feeling of intrusion surged through her, and she halted her advance.

Jadzia turned her head and met Ziyal's eyes. "You're fine," she breathed while nudging Ezri out of her light slumber.

The emotionally drained woman breathed deeply as she was pulled back to reality and tried to rub the dried tears from her face.

Her eyes focused after a few seconds, they landed on Ziyal, and Ezri immediately sat up straight.

"Ziyal," she said hoarsely, "I heard you finished your... simulations."

While that was partially true, the young woman had no intention of letting Ezri try to save face by turning the conversation back on her. Neither was she going to make things awkward by asking what was wrong.

Instead, when Jadzia helped Ezri up, Ziyal simply embraced her.

She was not close with Ezri by any means, but she knew Jadzia well enough to know that Daxes didn't cry for just anything.

When she let the soon-to-be commanding officer go, she continued on with the conversation normally.

"First round of sims," she clarified as Ezri pulled the wrinkles out of her uniform. "Sarah's still working on the next suite."

"Seriously? It was cruel enough to put you through that in the first place!"

Jadzia pursed her lips, trying to stay out of it. She'd already talked with Sarah and Ziyal about this training endeavor, and her warnings were dismissed.

Ziyal waved Ezri's concern off. "They weren't that bad. You're forgetting I was a literal slave for several years. This was my choice."

"Besides," she continued, "The next set will be coop. Kyle will be training with me in there."

Ezri collapsed in a nearby chair and let her head fall into her hands. A tired sigh escaped as she tried to process all the messed-up things happening in her life. After a few seconds of pulling herself back together, Ezri ran her hands through her shoulder-length hair and stood back up.

"Well, since it seems our lives are all equally fucked up at the moment, I vote we break into the Reeses' private stash and party for a bit."

Ezri didn't wait for a discussion or agreement before walking toward the lift. Ziyal shot Jadzia a concerned look, but she motioned to follow along with it.

While Ziyal didn't enjoy getting wasted with alcohol, a little went a long way to helping her relax.

April 6, 2385

Empok Nor

The NX-Defiant pulled in around 2100 hours. Sarah and Kyle had been on a training mission with Sisko for the past week, but an issue with one of the new impulse driver coils had forced them back before their tour was supposed to end next week.

Sisko dove into the repairs after dismissing his students, leaving Kyle and Sarah with a bit of downtime.

Mentally exhausted from all the operations training they'd received, the couple decided a nice night spent in their two-person hot tub would put a nice end to a long week.

However, when they entered their room, those plans went out of the airlock.

Sarah's good mood melted into annoyance when she spotted her stash of booze pulled out of its hiding place and raided.

"This can't be good," Kyle sighed as he dropped his bag on the floor.

"No, it won't be," she fumed after placing her duffle on the messed-up bed.

It didn't take long to track the mess to the bathroom. When Sarah punched the open button, she pulled back at the strong scent of alcohol.

Ziyal met her eyes as she relaxed in Sarah's vanity chair.

"You're back early," she noted dryly while sipping on a rare vintage of spring wine.

"And you're drinking my wine," Sarah bit back sharply.

The grey-skinned woman shrugged. "Ezri's idea, not mine. Didn't argue, though."

Sarah's brow twitched as the hybrid Cardassian held her gaze. Then she spotted the Daxes in her tub, fast asleep wrapped in eachother's arms.

A bystander might have thought them lovers if not for the soft blue glow that coated their bodies like a shield.

Sarah's anger drained away instantly at the sight.

The Daxes hadn't talked much about their situation, but Sarah had occasionally wondered what the two did when they had a minute to themselves.

"They're 'syncing'" Ziyal explained.

Her pupil's casual and simple explanation was hardly adequate to explain the intimate scene in front of her.

Sarah didn't like getting into other people's business if she could help it. She had never asked either of them how they handled having two Dax symbionts. Ziyal clearly had, and maybe she should have too.

"Oh, and Ezri broke things off with Bashir," Ziyal added before downing the last of her wine.

Kyle glanced in the bathroom before turning around and grabbing one of the untouched bottles of Saurian brandy and two more glasses.

He sat on the floor across from Ziyal and motioned his wife to follow suit. She offered no protest and took the offered glass without hesitation.

After pouring Ziyal a few ounces in her empty wine glass, they raised their glasses together in shared misery and drank.

The next round had Kyle trying to turn some of the negative energy into positive. "To victory," he said in a quiet tone that held no uncertainty.

Ziyal offered "To healing" on the third round, and Sarah "To family" for the fourth.

With a little buzz, they decided to stop. It would do no good to have everyone incapacitated.

Kyle offered to take Ziyal's place so she could get some rest, and she obliged.

Sarah took the tipsy woman back to her room and tucked her in for the night.

After the other two women were gone, Kyle turn his attention to the Daxes.

A quick scan with his tricorder reassured him that they were alright. With two identical symbiotes in two bodies with near identical sets of memories, it was a situation that the Trill had no information on. No literature, procedures, rituals to follow, or pitfalls to keep an eye out for.

Kyle, having often felt guilty dragging them into this madness, tried to keep an eye on them when they struggled with their duality.

It'd been a while since he'd had to, but clearly, Ezri's distress had spread to Jadzia through the link, and he wanted to ensure nothing happened.

Sarah returned 15 minutes later with some blankets and offered them to Kyle.

"If they need anything, just let me know," she said before keying the door closed, leaving her husband alone with the two Trill.

It was quiet for a while, and Kyle used the downtime to read more on Federation starship ops. Then, the glow began to fade.

After several minutes, it was gone, and the women began to stir.

Jadzia woke first. Her blue eyes opened lazily before noticing him, and then she was awake.

"What happened?" The Trill's sultry voice had turned hoarse, and she tried clearing her throat while Kyle answered.

"Impulse driver coils."

She released an exasperated sigh and helped a more sleep-drunk Ezri out of the tub. "Could you keep an eye on her?"

A wordless nod from Kyle was all she needed before she put back on her outer garments and left.

Ezri, meanwhile, just sat back against the tub in a daze while her other self rushed to help Sisko.

After a few moments of silence, Ezri came out of her stupor and gasped. Her eyes darted around and found Kyle.

The Trill's features immediately flushed with embarrassment.

"You weren't supposed to be back yet..."

"Driver coils," he reiterated.

She sighed loudly and pinched her nose. "I'm... sorry. About all of this," she waved her hand, gesturing to the mess.

Kyle stayed silent.

"I guess one too many things happened today or yesterday," she frowned, realizing she had no idea what time it was.

He kept his features stoic. She likely wouldn't appreciate any pity, especially from him.

"It gets easier," he said finally, and Ezri looked back up at him.

"I don't want it to get easier," she bit while stepping out of the tub. "I don't want to live like this. I don't want to... empty myself like you."

While that was not entirely true, he understood what she meant. The war forced him to bury or sacrifice various parts of himself to survive the apocalypse.

"I didn't have any other choice," he lamented in an even tone.

"Could you do that to Sarah?"

"If it wasn't for Curzon, I might have," he admitted.

"Do you regret it?"

"No," he said firmly. "She's the best thing to ever happen to me. Savannah too. Nothing will erase the scars, but at least I'm not as hollow as I was before. I'm not sure I would have survived here long without their support."

"That's what my friends are to Jadzia and me, and Julian... he was a dear friend long before I... before we became serious." She leaned against the wall for support as the torrent of emotions returned. "You didn't see how he looked at me."

There was another conversation pause while Ezri calmed herself down and pushed the trauma away for the moment.

When she looked back at Kyle, she remembered their time with the Prophets and the desolate, hopeless future he came from. Constant danger, disease, starvation, dehydration, and living life from moment to moment perpetually was an existence she could not comprehend. She'd only gotten a glance during the Dominion War.

It suddenly made her realize that for all the heartache and hurt Skynet's pending arrival had caused her, it was only a fraction of what it had done to Kyle and Sarah.

With that reminder, shame replaced anger and sadness, and Ezri had the sudden desire to be anywhere else. She put her uniform jacket back on and did her best to fix her hair with her fingers while Kyle turned on the lights.

"What will you do," he started and then paused as the woman turned her attention back to him. "If we win and get back here in one piece?"

It was one subject they'd never really talked about.

"You mean besides getting dismissed from Starfleet, thrown into prison, and living out the rest of my life as a disgrace to everyone I care about?"

"I think you underestimate them," he replied.

"Maybe," she sighed while pacing the floor. "I don't know. Is what I've done even forgivable? I'm not sure I'd forgive myself!"

Kyle winced a little at her volume but said nothing.

Ezri pinched her nose and took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm... I'm not myself at the moment."

"I know," he replied calmly and gestured for her to sit next to him. After a moment of contemplation, she obliged.

With her head resting in her hands, she took a few moments as her emotions settled, and 'Ezri' became more prominent in the Dax soup of personalities.

"Here I am making a scene over one breakup and potential exile, and you're the same silent statue as always."

"I haven't been like this as long as you think," he revealed. "I was pretty angry at everything for a long time. I lashed out a lot as a kid. Got us into trouble a lot with other survivors. It wasn't until my actions left us hungry that I realized I had to contain my anger. Temper it down and direct it at the things I was really mad at."

"Are you still angry?"

He turned his head and looked her in the eye. "Yes."

"At what?"

He shrugged. "Skynet. The fools built it without thinking about the consequences of their actions. Man's brutality towards his kind. The uncaring nature of the multiverse."

"Sounds about right. Can we add Q and the Prophets to that list?"

"And Section 31," Kyle added, earning a chuckle from Ezri.

"Especially them!"

The smiles lasted for a moment before Ezri continued. "I wonder what all they've done over the years. How much they've protected us from and what harm they've brought to our shores."

"Hard to tell," he tilted his head as he let his mind go down that particular rabbit hole. "This universe... So much is possible one could not comprehend it all."

"Infinite diversity. Infinite combinations." Ezri quoted.

"Infinite dangers," Kyle added. "Who knows what other monsters are out there."

"Hopefully, we'll stop this one," she said. "In the meantime, I've got a crew roster to finish filling out."

Ezri, now more centered than earlier, stood up and straightened her uniform as she prepared to leave. "Thank you, Kyle."

He gave a nod as she opened the door and left.

Sarah came in a few minutes later.

"That went better than I thought it would."

"As well as it could," he added while standing up.

After stretching out his joints, the duo decided to get some shut-eye while things were calm.

Once they were actually in bed, both knew it would be a while before they could fall asleep, so Sarah chose to air her concerns.

"Do you think they'll still go through with this?"

Clearly, Ezri's breakdown had shaken Sarah's faith in the woman a bit.

Sarah was not really the type of person to trust blindly; when she had, it was often broken.

Considering what was at stake, he couldn't blame her for her worries.

"They know what's at stake, and they know they can't the secret out. They're not going to slip up like that and further endanger the people they care about."

As his gaze turned to meet hers, Sarah faced her husband and looked him in the eye. "We're one slip up away from failing, Kyle. Someone will figure it out if anyone catches wind that they're up to something."

"We have plans for that, Sarah."

His words brought her little comfort. "But will it be enough? Even if they don't know what we're up to, and we somehow get away, would we even have enough time to finish the seeds?"

Knowing where this was going, Kyle pulled Sarah over to him and wrapped his arms around her.

She embraced him and laid her head on his chest.

"You can't account for everything. You know this, and I know this. All you can do is your best."

She didn't need to ask if their best wasn't enough. There really only one ending to that scenario.

"Two more years," she breathed.

"Two more years," he repeated.

"I wonder if they'll even recognize us," she mused as she began to calm down to the sounds of Kyle's heartbeat.

"It'll be weird being older than Derek," he admitted. "And Allison. She'll be taller than me."

"The UNSC might cause issues," she speculated.

"I'd say they're fairly predictable. The Didact is my worry."

There was no telling how he might react to their intrusion.

Sarah just gripped him tighter and did her best to get some rest.

It took almost an hour for her to slip past REM, Kyle noted. He was too wound up to really relax.

He kept thinking about what Ezri had said about him emptying himself of his emotions or burying them so deep it seemed like they were.

A survival technique used to keep oneself alive.

Sarah was never very good at it. She redirected the emotions, pushed through them, covered them, but never became like him.

How she kept any form of sanity under all that emotional baggage, he didn't know. Despite how testy that stress made his wife, he loved her all the more for it.

Her strength was a testament to her character, and he admired it daily.

Despite all the trauma and heartache, she somehow refused to be stripped of her humanity.

That being said, it was being chipped at. The things she'd been forced to do over her life had hardened her, and this whole situation with John becoming a machine had made her do things he thought she'd never do.

This was why he was still awake. He was worried about Sarah. Her comments on John and the others recognizing them made him think about the questionable things they'd done and planned to do in this endeavor.

At the end of the day, however, these concerns were trivial. If Skynet was not stopped, then the whole conversation was moot.

They'd just have to deal with the consequences later.

A/N: Well now. It's a bit later than usual, but I've been stupid busy with projects over the last year. Car projects being the big one.

This chapter was also really hard to write and care about. It's filler, I know, but I felt I wanted one last step in their journey before 2387, and this turned out nicely with how chapter 52 will play out.

The next chapter will be Chief focused. He's going to have a fun time figuring out the new dynamic now that the UNSC, Arbiter, and the Didact are all in the mix.