Chapter 62: The Child
2365
Bridge
The U.S.S. Enterprise NCC-1701-D had rendezvoused with another Federation ship in the heart of the breathtaking binary system known as Alvacorn Major. On the bridge, Commander William Riker was captivated by the mesmerizing viewscreen, which showcased a shuttlecraft gracefully gliding towards the other ship. The sight was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
"Open hailing frequencies," Riker instructed, his voice tinged with excitement.
"Hailing frequencies opened," Worf responded, his anticipation palpable.
"Repulse, this is the Enterprise. We are getting underway," Riker announced, his voice projecting determination and anticipation.
"Acknowledged, Enterprise. Transfer complete - good luck on your mission," came the warm and supportive reply from the other starship, their camaraderie evident.
"And to you," Riker replied with a genuine smile, feeling a sense of unity with their fellow Federation vessel.
"Give my regards to your captain. Repulse out," came the final farewell, carrying a sense of mutual respect and friendship.
"The Shuttle Bay is secure," Wesley reported dutifully, his youthful enthusiasm shining through.
"Thank you, Mister Crusher. Make all preparations to get underway," Riker commanded, his appreciation for the teamwork and dedication of his crew evident in his words.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In the Captain's Ready Room, Geordi LaForge, the recently appointed Chief Engineer of the Enterprise, felt a mix of nervousness and excitement as he presented Captain Picard with the intricate plans for a groundbreaking device he had been tirelessly working on. His hands trembled slightly with anticipation as he explained, "We will construct this large enclosure on Cargo Deck Five," hoping that his proposal would meet the captain's approval.
However, his moment was interrupted by the soft, yet persistent, sound of the door chime. "Come," Picard's composed voice granted entry, and in walked Commander Riker, who carried news of the successful transfer of personnel.
"The transfer is complete. Commander Summers and Commander..." Riker began, only to be gently interrupted by Captain Picard, who wished to avoid any confusion.
"Let's distinguish between them a little, shall we? Our new Chief Medical Officer should be Doctor, that way we don't keep trying to confuse the two," Picard suggested with a warm smile, recognizing the importance of addressing each officer properly to ensure a harmonious environment.
Riker nodded in agreement, appreciating Picard's attention to detail and thoughtful leadership. "Commander Summers and Doctor Summers are being shown to their quarters. We are ready to get underway," Riker informed, his respect for the captain evident in his tone.
"Very good," Captain Picard said, a glimmer of pride in his eyes as he invited Commander Riker to approach the desk. "Take a look at the containment module our new chief engineer has designed," he continued, his voice tinged with admiration for Geordi's engineering expertise.
"Chief engineer, that has a nice ring to it," Riker commented with a genuine smile, his respect for Geordi's talent evident in his tone.
A mix of emotions surged through Geordi as he stood there, humbled by the acknowledgment of his new role. "Almost didn't happen," Picard revealed, a touch of concern clouding his expression. "Starfleet was trying to assign Commander Summers to the position."
The revelation caught Geordi off guard, and his heart swelled with gratitude and relief. "You fought for me?" he wondered, his voice betraying a blend of surprise and deep appreciation for Picard's support.
"I did, and they eventually relented," Picard confirmed, his voice carrying a sense of determination and satisfaction at having secured Geordi in the vital role of chief engineer. "That said, Commander Summers will be doubling up. She will be floating between helm and being your assistant in engineering depending on her duty shifts," Picard explained, his words carrying a mix of practicality and a desire to accommodate the talents of their new crew member. (A\N 1)
"Anyways," Geordi said with a hint of excitement and determination, drawing their attention back to his ambitious project. "Each will have total atmospheric control... temperature, radiation, light, humidity, plus electrical spectrums," he explained with a touch of pride, knowing the significance of his work in creating a safe haven for the specimens they were transporting.
As Geordi delved into the technical details, Riker listened attentively, marveling at the complexity of the task before them. His admiration for Geordi's expertise grew, seeing the passion and ingenuity that he poured into the project.
"And these are put into the large containment area?" Riker inquired, genuinely intrigued by the intricate design of the modules and their vital role in preserving both the specimens and the crew.
"Yes, these modules will keep the specimens alive - the large containment area will keep us alive," Geordi replied, his voice carrying a mix of earnestness and pride in his work. He understood the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders and was determined to ensure the success of their mission.
"Now, I have to go and replicate these five hundred and twelve times. This will mean it will be necessary to divert power from the warp engines to the replicator," Geordi continued, revealing the scope of the task ahead. The prospect of replicating such a substantial number of modules put the crew's resourcefulness and teamwork to the test.
At the captain's inquiry about the duration of being on impulse power, a brief moment of concern passed over Geordi's face. "How long will we be on impulse power?" Picard asked, his voice echoing the curiosity and anticipation shared by the entire crew.
"For a few hours, but it can't be helped," Geordi answered with a hint of regret, fully aware of the impact diverting power from the warp engines would have on their immediate speed. Picard nodded in understanding, recognizing the necessity of prioritizing the replication process for the survival of the specimens they were transporting.
"When we leave 'aucdet Nine - I'm going to want all the power you can slam into those warp engines," Riker asserted with determination, his desire to make up for lost time and navigate through space with maximum speed evident in his voice.
"You'll have it," Geordi responded, a sense of camaraderie and unwavering loyalty shining through his words. He knew that the success of their mission relied on their collaborative effort and the trust they placed in each other.
As Geordi rose to leave the ready room, a mix of emotions swirled within him. He felt the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, understanding that the crew's safety and the successful completion of their mission depended on his skills as the chief engineer. A touch of determination brushed aside any doubt, and he left the room with a resolute spirit, ready to face the challenge ahead.
"I will relieve you at zero three zero zero," Picard informed Riker, his voice reflecting the deep sense of trust and respect he held for his first officer. Riker nodded in acknowledgment, his loyalty to the captain and dedication to the ship evident in his every move.
Summers' Quarters
Buffy and Dawn lay in bed, their shared sense of comfort and intimacy evident in their peaceful expressions. However, an ethereal form of energy floated above them, casting a surreal glow in the dimly lit room. The energy seemed to hesitate for a moment near Dawn's head, as if contemplating something, before shifting its focus to hover above Buffy's head. It then glided down Buffy's body with an eerie yet mesmerizing grace.
As the energy descended, Buffy's once peaceful sleep turned restless, and she tossed and turned in the grip of a troubling dream. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, reflecting the turmoil she experienced in her subconscious.
Suddenly, as if awakened by an invisible force, Buffy sat up straight in bed, her breath coming in rapid bursts. The sudden movement stirred Dawn from her slumber, and she gazed at her wife with concern etched in her eyes.
"Buffy?" Dawn's voice was soft, laced with worry, as she tried to understand what had startled her partner.
"Can you sense anyone in the room?" Buffy asked, her eyes scanning their surroundings with a mix of vigilance and apprehension.
"No, why?" Dawn replied, puzzled by Buffy's question and the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
"I'm sure I felt something was in here. And I have a feeling that something has changed," Buffy admitted, her voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and a determination to get to the bottom of the mysterious presence she had sensed.
Bridge
As Captain Picard stepped out of his ready room, his expression bore a mix of anticipation and determination. The Enterprise crew had been preparing for the imminent engagement of the warp drive, and the thought of their upcoming mission stirred a palpable sense of excitement in the air.
"Number One," Picard addressed Commander Riker, his voice carrying a tone of respect and trust as he inquired about the status of the warp drive preparations.
"Lieutenant La Forge says we will be able to engage the warp drive within the hour," Riker responded with a touch of admiration for Geordi's engineering prowess, knowing that they could rely on him to ensure a smooth transition into warp speed.
Picard nodded in acknowledgment; his mind already focused on the next important task at hand. "Mister Data," he turned to the android officer, "when we receive a complete list of all the specimens we will be carrying, I want you and Doctor Summers to go through it... by the way. Where is our new doctor? Has she reported in?" The captain's concern and curiosity were evident as he sought to ensure that their new Chief Medical Officer was settling into her role on the ship.
"Neither she nor Commander Summers have reported in yet," Riker informed, sharing Picard's concern about the absence of the medical officers.
Feeling a twinge of irritation at the breach in proper procedure, Picard's emotions momentarily flickered across his otherwise composed demeanor. He tapped his comm badge, signaling the ship's Sickbay. "Sickbay, this is the captain," he spoke firmly, expecting an immediate response, and eager to address the matter swiftly.
"Sickbay, aye," came the prompt response.
"Is Doctor Summers there?" Picard inquired; his worry evident as he sought an explanation for her absence.
"Yes, sir. She is currently with her wife running tests," the response came, but there was an unspoken weight in the words that caught Picard's attention.
"Is something wrong with Commander Summers?" Picard asked, his apprehension growing with each passing moment.
"This is Doctor Summers, Captain," came a gentle yet serious voice, confirming that the medical officer herself was on the line. "I recommend you come down," she added, the urgency in her tone becoming apparent.
Picard exchanged a concerned glance with Riker, their shared bond as trusted confidantes allowing for unspoken understanding. "You have the conn, Number One," hr instructed, his voice firm yet laced with a sense of urgency and responsibility. As he rose from his seat and strode purposefully toward the turbolift, the weight of command bore heavily on his shoulders, but he knew that his crew depended on his unwavering leadership in times of uncertainty.
Sickbay
As Picard emerged from the turbolift, he was taken aback by the unexpected encounter with Wesley Crusher. The young ensign's presence brought a mix of emotions to the surface, as memories of Wesley's past on the Enterprise and his potential for greatness flooded the captain's mind.
"Hello, Captain," Wesley greeted with a touch of reverence, looking up to the man he admired so much.
"Ensign Crusher," Picard replied warmly, his voice reflecting a sense of fondness and respect for the young officer, who had once been like a son to him. As he continued down the corridor, he was aware of Wesley's efforts to keep up with his brisk pace. "I'm sorry this mission will delay your reunion with your mother," he offered.
"It's all right. I can use the time to finish some projects," Wesley replied with a hint of determination, demonstrating his ability to find silver linings even in the face of disappointment.
Picard admired the young ensign's resilience and dedication to his work, recognizing that he had matured and grown into a remarkable individual. "We shouldn't be more than a week or so," he reassured.
"It is going to be hard to leave the Enterprise..." Wesley's voice trailed off, tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and apprehension. His eyes glistened with unspoken emotions, revealing the depth of the bond he had formed with the ship and its crew over the years.
"Mixed feelings for all of us," Picard empathized, his voice soft and understanding as he observed the sadness in the young man's eyes. "It's always difficult leaving any ship, as it was for your mother when she left to become head of Starfleet Medical," he recounted, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability as he remembered the bittersweet partings he had experienced in his own life. "But going from one assignment to another is part of the life which you are choosing," he added, recognizing that these transitions were an integral aspect of their shared profession.
"Yes, but this isn't 'any' ship," Wesley's voice trembled with emotion, and his eyes shone with sincerity. The Enterprise held a special place in his heart, and the prospect of saying goodbye was proving to be more challenging than he had anticipated.
"Truly," Picard agreed, his gaze gentle as he turned and walked toward Sickbay, leaving Wesley to grapple with his emotions in the corridor. It was evident that the ship had become a second home, and the connections forged on the Enterprise ran deep among its crew.
Once inside Sickbay, Picard's attention shifted to the ship's new Chief Medical Officer. "Doctor Summers?" he called, seeking her counsel in the midst of his own internal conflicts.
"Over here," Dawn's voice beckoned, and Picard turned to see her standing in the doorway to her office. The concern etched on her face mirrored the captain's emotions as they prepared to embark on this new chapter together.
As he followed her into the office, Picard felt a mixture of comfort and respect for the new doctor. The Enterprise was more than just a starship; it was a place where values, traditions, and protocols were upheld with unwavering dedication. In Dawn, Picard saw the potential for a strong and compassionate leader who would carry on the legacy of excellence that the Enterprise represented.
"Doctor—protocol on your last assignment might have been lax, but here on the Enterprise..." Picard began, his voice conveying a mixture of firmness and understanding.
Dawn's abrupt interruption drew an air of anticipation in the room, and Picard sensed that something important lay ahead. The captain's frown turned into a look of keen interest as he took in the seriousness etched across Dawn's face. "Sit down, Captain. You'll want to hear what I've discovered," Dawn urged, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and determination. Her words resonated with a sense of purpose, leaving no room for hesitation.
He lowered himself into a seat, mindful of the gravity of the moment.
Observation Lounge
After a lengthy discussion that delved not only into the urgent matter Dawn had called Picard to Sickbay for but also into the emotional depth of their Starfleet files, the trio slowly made their way to the observation lounge. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of anticipation and concern, each step heavy with the weight of the revelations they had shared.
Picard's voice held a hint of urgency as he reached for his commbadge and addressed Lieutenant La Forge. "Lieutenant La Forge, status report," he inquired, trying to maintain his composure despite the mounting pressure of their mission.
"The containment area is completed, the last of the modules are being inserted," Geordi responded promptly, his voice laced with a mix of relief and satisfaction at having accomplished such a vital task.
"Take us to warp six as soon as possible," Picard directed, the sense of urgency growing as he, Buffy, and Dawn moved together toward the observation lounge. The captain's heart raced with a combination of anticipation and determination, knowing that their journey was about to take a significant turn.
"Acknowledged," Geordi replied, understanding the importance of reaching their destination swiftly.
As they entered the observation lounge, Picard took his customary seat, while Buffy and Dawn found two vacant seats close by. The room was charged with emotion, the intensity of their recent discussion still palpable in the air. Each person carried the weight of their roles and responsibilities, along with the bond they shared as comrades and friends.
"This is Doctor Dawn Summers and her wife, Commander Buffy Summers," Picard announced, his voice tinged with warmth as he gestured toward the two women. "We will handle the formal introductions later."
With a mix of pride and concern, Picard's next words held a momentous revelation. "Commander Buffy Summers is pregnant."
The atmosphere in the room shifted, and the senior staff looked on with a mix of bewilderment and concern. Riker's brow furrowed, wondering why such a delicate matter required an urgent meeting of the senior staff.
Buffy's voice wavered slightly as she began to explain, "Before arriving on the Enterprise, I wasn't pregnant," she revealed, her emotions laid bare as she shared her surprising revelation. "Dawn and I had planned to get a good night's rest and then report for duty this morning. During the night, something happened, and I wound up pregnant."
The weight of the news settled over the room, and the gravity of the situation was palpable. The crew had encountered many mysteries in the far reaches of space, but this inexplicable phenomenon touched the core of their emotions.
Dawn's voice carried a mix of wonder and concern as she continued, "This pregnancy is unlike anything I have ever encountered." Her gaze moved to the wall viewer as she activated it, and the room fell silent as a sonic representation of a healthy, humanoid fetus appeared before them. "This is from the first examination. The fetus is about halfway through the first trimester - about six weeks old. Conception happened only a few hours ago while we were both asleep."
Riker couldn't help but express his shock at the accelerated growth rate. "What?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief at the idea that the fetus had grown to six weeks in just a matter of hours.
"It gets better," Dawn said with a touch of irony, her voice revealing a mix of amazement and concern. The screen changed again, displaying the second examination results. "The second exam, an hour later, was consistent, except for the fact that the fetus 'appeared' to be several weeks older," she explained, her scientific curiosity battling with the emotional weight of the situation.
As the information sunk in, a hushed silence enveloped the room. The crew members exchanged glances, their minds racing with questions and uncertainties. The revelation defied any known laws of biology, and the implications were profound.
"At this growth rate, Buffy will have her baby within the next thirty-six hours. As I am sure everyone here is aware, normal gestation for a human woman is nine months," Dawn concluded, her voice trembling with the enormity of the situation.
"I do not mean to be indelicate, but..." Riker hesitated before continuing, "who's the father?" The query carried a mix of curiosity and respect, acknowledging the delicacy of the situation.
"I am, apparently," Dawn replied with a touch of vulnerability, her emotions raw as she faced the perplexing reality of her role in the unexpected pregnancy. Her heartache and confusion were evident as she grappled with the complexity of the situation.
As she shared the results of the tests, the emotional weight in her voice was palpable. "Tests have shown that the baby shares both mine and Buffy's DNA," Dawn revealed, her words tinged with wonder and apprehension. The magnitude of the mystery that surrounded them was overwhelming, and the ramifications of this revelation were far-reaching.
Dawn's reference to the Eugenics Wars carried a sense of history and collective memory, adding an additional layer of complexity to the situation. "Genetic engineering was banned because of the Eugenics Wars. So how the baby has both mine and Buffy's DNA, I don't have a clue," she confessed, her vulnerability laid bare before the senior staff.
Amidst the confusion and uncertainty, they were left with one unsettling clue. "That said though, what we do know is Buffy sensed a presence that entered our quarters, and we believe it entered her body," Dawn explained, her voice wavering with a mix of hope and trepidation.
Troi's confusion mirrored that of the others, seeking to understand the implications of how Buffy, a supposedly normal human, sensed a presence. "Sensed?" she asked.
Picard's sigh spoke of the burden he bore as the captain and the weight of classified information he held. "I'm afraid that's classified, Counselor," he informed her.
The revelation of classified files left Riker puzzled, his confusion evident on his face. "Classified?" he echoed, his mind racing with questions.
Buffy's reassurance brought a sense of relief to the room, her voice carrying a soothing undertone as she spoke to her captain. "It's alright, Captain," she said with a gentle smile. "Dawn and I have pull with the Admiralty, especially when it comes to our own files. We can get everyone on your senior staff clearance. It wouldn't be the first time outside the Captain and Chief Medical Officer that happened."
Picard's expression softened with gratitude. "Both Doctor Summers and Commander Summers are compared to the rest of us in this room, more evolved," he continued, his voice carrying a sense of awe and admiration. "Doctor and Commander Summers are the only humans to ever be truly empathic, that we are aware of. They both also have additional abilities on top of the empathic ability."
The revelation left the room in hushed contemplation. The emotional impact of the unique abilities possessed by Dawn and Buffy was not lost on the senior staff.
Troi's empathic curiosity prompted her to inquire further. "What is it you sensed?" she asked, her voice gentle and understanding, inviting Buffy to share her experiences.
"I'm not entirely sure," Buffy replied, her tone tinged with a mix of uncertainty and introspection. "I can only describe it as a presence. And given how long Dawn and I've lived, that's saying something."
Riker's confusion resurfaced as he tried to piece together the puzzle. "How long have you lived?" he asked, seeking clarity on Buffy's choice of words.
As Picard revealed the astonishing truth, the emotional tension in the room reached a new height. "Apparently both Doctor Summers and Commander Summers are around three hundred and eighty years old," the captain stated, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief. The revelation was staggering, and the senior staff found themselves at a loss for words, struggling to comprehend the impossibility of such an existence.
"That's impossible," Riker exclaimed, his shock evident in his tone and expression. The idea of a human living for centuries went against everything they knew about the natural course of life.
Dawn's voice was tinged with a mix of resignation and acceptance as she began to explain their extraordinary nature. "We are what are called Millennials," she said. "We will live for a thousand years." The words hung heavily in the air, and the room fell silent as they absorbed the profound implications of such an extended lifespan.
As she continued, Dawn revealed the intricacies of their existence. "Buffy was born in the year nineteen eighty-one, officially I was born six years later. Unofficially I was created at the start of the millennium," she explained. "But because I was created at the start of the millennium, I was the first to acquire the Millennial powers. Buffy acquired hers a couple hundred years later. The explanation on that is quite lengthy and part of it is part of a classified mission under Captain James Kirk when he still retained the rank of Admiral. This particular mission was classified by President of the Federation and the Federation Council itself. Anyways Buffy and I will die exactly on December 31st, 2999 at one minute to midnight. Buffy has additional gifts that were given to her sometime between her fifteenth and sixteenth birthdays in 1996."
Troi, with her empathic abilities, understood the magnitude of the emotional burden they carried. "So, you both sense emotions," Troi noted with a mixture of fascination and empathy.
Dawn's question revealed her keen perception. "I take it you're Betazoid?" she inquired as Troi nodded in confirmation.
Dawn's voice carried a profound weight, tinged with both the burden and honor of their empathic abilities. "Yes, we both can sense emotions," she affirmed, her eyes conveying a mixture of resilience and vulnerability. "Buffy and I are supposed to experience the weight of the world's emotions, in this case everyone's emotions on Earth. We are supposed to be the living embodiment of everything that goes on around us."
Troi's empathic heart went out to them, understanding the immense emotional toll such a responsibility would entail. "That level of empathy would be extremely difficult to bear," she empathized, her own empathic abilities giving her a glimpse of the tremendous strain they carried.
Dawn nodded, her gaze softening as she spoke. "You're correct," she admitted, her voice revealing the weariness that came from a lifetime of feeling the world's emotions. "We can only take so much before we have to get off-world." The weight of centuries spent experiencing the full spectrum of human emotions was evident in her words.
Her thoughts turned to the past, recalling the challenges they had faced together. "The Third World War was extremely hard on me," she shared, her voice tinged with both sadness and resolve. "So much rage and anger. Buffy had to tread lightly around me during that time."
As Dawn recounted their storied history of service, her voice carried a mix of nostalgia and pride. "Buffy and I have served on Captain Archer's Enterprise, both Captain Kirk's Original Enterprise, and the Enterprise-A," she revealed, the names of legendary starships evoking a sense of honor. "We also served on Captain Harriman's Enterprise and Captain Garrett's Enterprise."
The weight of their collective experiences seemed to hang in the air, each ship representing a chapter in their lives. "I also briefly served under Captain Terrell on the Reliant," she continued, her voice lowering slightly as she mentioned the classified mission. "That mission is part of the classified mission I mentioned." The significance of the classified mission hinted at untold challenges and secrets buried deep in their past.
"Anyways, each time was to get away from Earth for a tour," she concluded, her words carrying a mix of both fondness and weariness. The emotional connection between Dawn and Buffy, forged through a lifetime of shared experiences, was evident, and the room fell silent as the senior staff absorbed the weight of their extraordinary journey.
Picard's words hung in the air, and the room was filled with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. He spoke with a sense of reverence, recognizing the uniqueness of Doctor Summers and Commander Summers' journey. "As far as their records are concerned, once they have gotten you all clearance, for the parts of their records they can, I recommend you all read up on them," he urged, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and respect. "They are quite an interesting read, and since Starfleet has gone to lengths to classify them since its inception, I have no doubts that what is in their records is true."
The senior staff exchanged glances, sensing that they were on the brink of discovering something extraordinary. The mystery surrounding Doctor Summers and Commander Summers only deepened their intrigue, and they were eager to learn more about the remarkable couple.
"For now, let's return to the matter at hand," Picard continued, his tone shifting back to a more serious demeanor. "A life-form of unknown origin and intent is breeding right now inside Commander Summers." His words hung heavy with concern and uncertainty. "Our purpose here is to determine what is to be done about this very 'unusual' situation. Discussion."
Riker's voice echoed the collective confusion as he sought clarity on the situation. "Let me get this straight," he said, his gaze fixed on Dawn. "Your wife was impregnated by... by what? What do your tests show? You said it shares yours and her DNA. Is that all? Is it completely human? Or is it partly alien?"
Dawn's expression was a mix of resolve and concern as she answered his questions. "It's human and female," she clarified. "Or in this case, half-Slayer, half-Millennial."
Troi's empathic senses picked up on the complexity of the situation, and she sought to understand the reference to "Slayer." Her curiosity was evident as she asked, "Slayer?"
Buffy interjected with a hint of wry humor. "That's a lengthy conversation," she said, acknowledging the intricacy of their past. "Way lengthier than anything else we could tell you. When you see our files, you will understand."
Dawn's voice carried a mix of concern and determination as she shared the results of her tests. "Anyways, there is no indication from any of my tests of any other genetic information except mine and Buffy's," she concluded, her emotions laid bare as she grappled with the implications of the situation.
Riker's brow furrowed as he absorbed the gravity of the moment. His voice was tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease as he mused, "I don't think this is a random occurrence. There is a purpose here - a reason. What, I don't know." The weight of the unknown hung heavily over the room, leaving them all searching for answers in the face of an enigma.
Tension rose in the room as Worf's suggestion pierced the silence. "Captain, obviously the pregnancy must be terminated," he stated, his voice firm and resolute.
Riker's question was tinged with skepticism as he sought to understand Worf's rationale. "Why?" he asked, glancing at the security chief, hoping for an explanation.
"For the safety of the ship and crew," Worf replied, his voice unwavering in its conviction. The atmosphere in the room grew charged with conflicting emotions, as the crew grappled with the moral and ethical implications of their choices.
Emotions ran high in the room as the senior staff grappled with the weighty decision before them. Troi's voice carried a sense of empathy and compassion as she pleaded, "Worf, you can't assume its intent is belligerent."
Worf's response was firm, his concerns for the safety of the ship and crew evident in his voice. "That is my safest assumption," he replied, unwilling to waver in his duty to protect the Enterprise.
Data's calm and logical demeanor provided a counterpoint to Worf's caution. "Captain, this is a life-form. Not to allow it to develop naturally would deny us the opportunity to study it," he offered, his words carrying a sense of curiosity and scientific interest.
The focus shifted to Dawn as Riker sought her input, his gaze filled with a mix of concern and respect. "Is there any health risk to your wife if the fetus is aborted?" he asked, recognizing the complex emotions at play.
Dawn's response carried a hint of vulnerability as she considered the emotional toll the decision would take. "Not medically," she said, her voice steady. "But I can sense that emotionally is another thing entirely."
Troi, attuned to the emotional nuances of the situation, chimed in, her voice filled with conviction. "As can I," she affirmed. "Captain, I feel that for Commander Summers, what needs to be done is to allow her to have the child. That is my professional opinion as Ship's Counselor."
Buffy's voice joined the discussion, and her determination was palpable. "I want to have this baby," she declared, her words carrying the weight of her unique circumstances. "After nearly four hundred years and with another six hundred to go, who knows if I will ever get this chance again."
Picard took a moment to absorb the heartfelt opinions shared by his crew, his emotions evident in his thoughtful expression. "I believe that ends the discussion," he said, his voice firm yet compassionate. The weight of the decision was not lost on him, and he knew that whatever choice they made, it would shape the future of their extraordinary journey.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"Captain's log, supplemental. We have finally arrived at 'aucdet Nine. We will pick up the specimens of Plasma Plague and transport them to Rachelis. It is only because so many lives are at stake that I am willing to put this ship and crew at such great risk."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Bridge
As the Enterprise hummed with activity, emotions ran high in the bridge. Picard sat in his seat, his eyes thoughtful, his thoughts consumed by the enigmatic life-form growing within Buffy. Riker stood beside him, offering silent support to his captain in this moment of uncertainty and complexity.
Data was at Ops, his android features masking any emotions he may have been experiencing. Wesley manned the helm with an air of confidence.
Buffy and Troi emerged from the aft turbolift. As Picard turned to look at them, his eyes were drawn to Buffy's visibly progressing pregnancy, a stark contrast to the vibrant and adventurous young woman he had only met hours before.
In the time since the meeting, Troi had taken on the role of a steadfast companion, offering her support and guidance to Buffy during Dawn's shifts in sickbay. Her empathic abilities allowed her to sense the captain's uncertainty and the weight of responsibility he carried.
Picard's voice was gentle as he asked, "Commander, how are you feeling?" Troi assisted Buffy to her normal seat beside the captain, her presence a calming reassurance.
"I should be feeling uncomfortable with all the changes in my body... but, I'm not. I feel fine - better than fine. Wonderful," Buffy admitted with a radiant smile, her eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and wonder.
Troi met Picard's eyes, her own filled with empathy for the captain's internal conflict. The baby growing within Buffy remained an enigma, and the unknown filled the bridge with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
Amidst the emotional turmoil, Riker's voice brought focus back to their duties. "Standard orbit," he announced, his tone steady and composed.
"Standard orbit, aye," Wesley replied, his fingers dancing skillfully across the helm controls. The bridge hummed with the rhythm of their collective efforts, a testament to the well-practiced harmony of the Enterprise crew.
Buffy looked at Wesley, her expression carried a hint of surprise and curiosity. She didn't recognize the young man. She assumed by the time that this crew would be on the Enterprise-E that he might have long since transferred off, resigned from Starfleet or was dead.
Picard's voice held a touch of urgency and curiosity as he gave the order, "Open hailing frequencies," his gaze fixed on the viewscreen, anticipation building within him.
"Hailing frequencies open," Worf confirmed, his deep voice resonating with the gravity of the moment.
"'Aucdet Nine, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise," Picard announced, his words carrying a mix of authority and respect.
The viewscreen flickered to life, revealing the image of a man—Lieutenant Commander Hester Dealt. "Ah... yes... Enterprise, you're here at last. Good," Dealt responded, his tone a blend of relief and expectation.
Picard's brow furrowed slightly as he sought more information. "Excuse me, to whom am I speaking?" he inquired, his diplomatic demeanor intact even as his mind raced with questions.
The reply came with a hint of formality. "Oh... I'm Lieutenant Commander Hester Dealt. The medical trustee of the Federation Medical Collection Station." His voice conveyed a sense of responsibility and the weight of the delicate cargo they were about to transfer.
"Are the specimens ready for transfer?" Picard asked.
Dealt's response held a mix of caution and trust. "Yes, but with your permission, I would like to inspect the containment area before we proceed," he requested, a touch of vulnerability in his words. "It is not that I doubt the ability of your crew; we just cannot afford a mistake."
The tension in the air was palpable as Picard spoke, his voice reflecting a mix of understanding and firmness. "I appreciate your caution – in the same vein, I need a complete, detailed manifest of everything which you intend to bring on board my ship," he asserted, his eyes unwavering as he sought to ensure the safety of his crew and the integrity of the Enterprise.
Hester's response was measured and cooperative, his voice tinged with a sense of responsibility. "I will allow access to the computer banks," he affirmed before disappearing from the viewscreen, leaving behind a holographic representation of 'aucdet Nine.
Picard's thoughts were a whirlwind as he processed the situation. He knew that thoroughness was paramount when dealing with sensitive cargo, especially one of unknown origin. Turning to Data, he entrusted him with the critical task. "Download the inventory and go through it with Doctor Summers," he instructed, his faith in his android officer's capabilities evident in his tone.
His attention then turned to Riker, his second-in-command, with whom he shared a silent understanding. "Number One, arrange to have Hester Dealt transported up," he said, his voice steady but revealing a sense of urgency in addressing the matter.
As the command staff delved into the logistics of the situation, the atmosphere in the bridge shifted as Troi's voice, filled with warmth and concern, broke through the tension. "Deanna," Buffy spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of fatigue, "can you help me to my quarters? I'm feeling a little tired."
Troi's empathic senses picked up on Buffy's weariness and offered her assistance with genuine care. "Of course, Buffy," she replied, her voice filled with compassion. "Captain, if you need me."
Picard nodded as Troi helped Buffy up and they walked to the turbolift.
Summers' Quarters
Inside Buffy and Dawn's quarters, the weight of the situation bore down on Buffy as she sought solace in the bathroom. Her hands trembled slightly as she approached the sink, and her reflection in the mirror revealed a mixture of uncertainty and resilience.
Troi followed her, her empathic abilities attuned to every nuance of Buffy's emotional state. Concern etched her features as she stood behind the blonde woman, offering a comforting presence.
"Are you feeling alright, Buffy?" Troi asked softly, her voice laced with empathy. She knew the emotional strain this unprecedented experience was placing on the woman. "And before you answer, just remember I can feel your emotions just as you can feel mine."
Buffy's eyes met her own reflection, and she took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Physically, I feel fine," she replied honestly. "Emotionally, I am sure you can tell that without my saying anything."
Troi's understanding smile radiated warmth as she reassured Buffy, "I can." She gently placed a comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder, offering a silent gesture of support. "But, as I am sure you have learned, it is better to ask than to assume."
Buffy nodded, appreciating Troi's gentle reminder. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice soft. "It's just... overwhelming, you know? I feel like I'm riding a wave of emotions."
Troi's gaze met Buffy's with a deep sense of understanding. "You're not alone in this," she assured her. "We're here for you, every step of the way."
Buffy's attention shifted to her growing belly, her eyes shining with a mix of love and wonder. "I can feel it won't be long now," she admitted, a mixture of excitement and trepidation coloring her words.
"You're sure?" Troi inquired, her voice gentle. "I don't mean this the wrong way, but then, hopefully, we will get some answers."
Buffy nodded, the weight of the unknown heavy on her heart. "While I already love her," she confided, "I have to agree that it would be nice to get some answers on why this happened to me."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"Captain's log, supplemental. It's been fourteen hours since we arrived at 'aucdet Nine. Hester Dealt is making final selections of the specimens we will carry. Meanwhile, we continue to receive desperate pleas from the Rachelis System."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Bridge
The bridge hummed with a sense of anticipation as the final manifest was received, and Data's voice resonated with a hint of relief as he delivered the news. "Captain, the final manifest has been received," he announced, the culmination of their efforts evident in his expression.
Picard nodded, a mix of satisfaction and determination evident in his gaze. "At last," he replied, his voice tinged with a sense of eagerness. "Review it with Doctor Summers. I want both of you to be completely familiar with it."
Data's response was resolute and dutiful, his commitment to the task unwavering. "Aye, sir," he acknowledged, before turning to make his way to the turbolift.
Sickbay
The turbolift's soft hum resonated with a mix of urgency and determination as it descended through the ship's core, carrying Data toward the nearest point to sickbay. As the doors parted, his eyes fell upon a poignant scene—Troi, the embodiment of empathy and compassion, gently assisting Buffy toward the medical haven.
"Data," Troi's voice was tinged with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation, "give me a hand. We have to get her to Sickbay."
Data's positronic brain processed the situation instantaneously, recognizing the need for immediate support. He moved swiftly to Buffy's side, his movements fluid and precise, offering Buffy his arm for support. Together, the three of them continued down the corridor, each step a testament to their shared determination to see Buffy safely through this momentous time.
Inside Sickbay, Dawn's heart raced as she sat in her office, poring over the latest results of Buffy's exams. The room seemed charged with anticipation, the hum of medical equipment intermingling with her swirling emotions. Her thoughts were a maelstrom of concern and excitement as she awaited the momentous occasion that was about to unfold.
Suddenly, the hiss of the door leading to the corridor pulled her focus, and her heart skipped a beat when she looked up to see Data and Troi assisting Buffy. A mixture of relief and urgency swept over her as she hurriedly stood and made her way out of her office to join them.
"Buffy?" Dawn's voice trembled with a potent mix of emotions as she approached.
"It's time," Buffy's words carried a sense of awe and wonder, the reality of the impending birth finally setting in.
Dawn nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Counselor, can you help her into the delivery room," she requested, grateful for Troi's presence and support, and her gaze shifted to Data. "Thank you for your help, Commander."
However, Data's actions surprised her as he touched his commbadge, "Worf - assemble your security team in Sickbay."
Dawn's brow furrowed with concern as she questioned the necessity of such measures. "Is that necessary?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Data nodded, a hint of somberness in his features. "Yes—captain's orders," he replied, his commitment to fulfilling Picard's directives unwavering.
Dawn sighed, realizing that perhaps the full extent of her and Buffy's unique abilities had not been thoroughly conveyed to the captain. "Remind me to make sure the Captain reads our full files, as he apparently hasn't. If he had, he would know there is no need for security," she murmured to herself, her frustration tempered by understanding.
As she looked at Buffy, seated on the birthing chair, Dawn's focus was wholly on her wife. She could see the strength and vulnerability in Buffy's eyes, and her heart swelled with love and admiration for the woman carrying their child.
"Buffy, how frequent are your contractions?" Dawn's voice was tender, the unwavering support and connection between them evident in the way she held Buffy's hand, providing reassurance amidst the impending waves of pain and joy.
As the momentous event drew nearer, Buffy's contractions intensified. Her voice quivered with excitement as she responded to Dawn's question. "Very close together," she managed to say, the raw emotion evident in her voice.
Dawn's focus remained solely on Buffy, her love and concern for her wife filling every fiber of her being. With a mixture of pride and tenderness, she turned to Troi. "Counselor, if you would do me the honor of comforting Buffy while I deliver the baby."
Troi's heart swelled with compassion as she approached Buffy, a sense of reverence enveloping her. "I would be happy to." She took Buffy's hand in hers, her touch gentle yet firm, offering strength and support during the impending arrival of the child.
Data, ever the observer, stood nearby, fascinated by the intricacies of human life. His synthetic heart stirred with curiosity and wonder, as he reflected on his own existence, devoid of memories of conception, birth, and childhood. Despite his vast knowledge, there remained an elusive mystery in the creation of life that intrigued him. "This is very interesting to me. Although I understand in technical terms how life is formed, there is still a part of the process which eludes my understanding. I began my existence as an adult. I have no memory—no cognizance of conception, birth, childhood."
Dawn's smile was filled with warmth and understanding as she acknowledged Data's curiosity. "You are more than welcome to stay and watch, Commander," she said, recognizing the significance of this moment for him—an opportunity to witness a part of life's journey that had eluded his own experience.
As the delivery progressed, Buffy's grip on Troi's hand tightened unintentionally, a manifestation of her enhanced Slayer strength. "It's happening," she said.
The atmosphere in Sickbay was tense as Troi winced at the unintended display of Buffy's enhanced strength. The grimace of pain on Troi's face didn't go unnoticed by Dawn, who felt a pang of concern for the counselor. "One of her non-Millennial gifts is enhanced strength," Dawn explained.
With a sigh, Dawn acknowledged the situation, her heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and care for Buffy. She reached for the hypospray, intending to ease her wife's discomfort. "I'm going to give you something for the pain."
"There isn't any, Dawn," Buffy's words held a mix of determination and vulnerability, her grip relaxing on Troi's hand. She looked up at Troi with an apologetic gaze, still deeply appreciative of the counselor's unwavering support. "Sorry."
"It's alright," Troi assured Buffy, her empathic senses attuned to the array of emotions swirling around her.
In the midst of this emotional moment, Worf and his security team entered Sickbay, ready to carry out the captain's orders. However, Dawn, trusting her instincts, made a plea to the Klingon security chief, her voice firm yet filled with a sense of urgency. "Worf, I know it's the Captain's orders. But your security detail is not needed and I would rather they remain in the hall."
Worf didn't look like he was about to dismiss his security detail. So determined to demonstrate the validity of her request, Dawn lifted her hand and aimed it at a nearby wall. A burst of electrical energy shot from her fingertips, controlled and precise, making her point clear.
"As you can see, I actually don't need a phaser," Dawn's voice carried a mix of confidence and compassion. "I can actually regulate the intensity of the blast. If the baby is a threat, I believe you and I will be more than enough," she emphasized, her gaze steady as she sought to assure Worf and the others of their capability to handle any situation.
The moment the baby entered the world, a mixture of joy, relief, and awe filled the air in Sickbay. Dawn's words echoed with tender anticipation, "I see blonde hair," as the baby's head crowned. She guided Buffy through the final moments of the birthing process, her voice a soothing reassurance amidst the intensity of the moment. Every ounce of Dawn's medical expertise was blended with the boundless love she felt for her wife and the life they had brought into the world.
As Buffy pushed, a collective breath was held in the room, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. With Dawn's gentle support, the baby slid into the world, and a chorus of emotion surged through the room. Dawn deftly cut and tied the umbilical cord, a symbol of the physical connection that had sustained the baby throughout her journey in the womb.
Walking around the table, Dawn's heart soared with pride as she placed the tiny bundle of life into Buffy's arms. Her eyes locked with Buffy's, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had traversed together, leading to this miraculous moment. "It's a girl, Buffy," Dawn whispered, her voice full of tenderness and joy. "A normal, healthy, six-pound, three-ounce baby girl."
Worf, who had stood watchful and ready throughout the birth, approached the baby with caution, a testament to his protective instincts. But as he looked upon baby, he saw not a threat, but a new life—innocent and vulnerable. His stern expression softened, and he nodded at Dawn's reassurance. "It's safe," she confirmed.
Data, the ever-curious observer, leaned in to see the child. "It was remarkable. Thank you for allowing me to watch," he expressed, his voice tinged with wonder.
Troi's empathic senses resonated with the joy and love that enveloped the room. Her heart swelled as she witnessed the creation of a family—a bond forged not only by blood but by the experiences that had led them to this miraculous point in time. She looked at Buffy with warmth and compassion, knowing the depth of emotions that filled her heart in this precious moment.
With a nod, Troi inquired about a name for the newest addition to their family. Buffy's smile held a mix of joy and tenderness as she gazed down at her daughter, this little miracle that embodied the essence of family and love. "Celia Joyce," Buffy announced, her voice soft yet resolute, honoring her family's legacy and creating a new chapter in the grand tapestry of life.
Dawn's voice trembled with a mix of joy and exhaustion as she reached up to touch her commbadge, eager to share the news with Captain Picard. "Captain," she said, her heart still fluttering from the momentous events that had just unfolded.
"Picard here," the captain replied, his voice warm and eager to hear the news from Sickbay.
"Buffy and I are parents of a very healthy baby girl. Buffy and the baby are both doing well," Dawn announced, her voice tinged with pride and relief.
"My best wishes to the both of you and your daughter," Captain Picard conveyed warmly, the gravity of the moment evident in his words.
"Thank you," Buffy and Dawn replied in unison, the emotion evident in their voices as they savored this new chapter of their lives.
Dawn's gaze shifted to Worf, who stood nearby with his security detail, ready to protect the crew from any perceived threat. A soft smile graced her lips as she spoke to him, "You are dismissed, Lieutenant. I don't believe Celia is going to pose much of a threat currently," she said, her eyes conveying her trust in her crew and her newfound family.
Worf nodded in understanding, his stern features softening ever so slightly at the sight of the newborn. He acknowledged Dawn's words and exited the room, leaving the new family to bask in the joy of their precious arrival.
With a tender look, Dawn turned toward Troi, the counselor who had been a pillar of support throughout the journey of bringing Celia into the world. "Thank you," she said, her gratitude evident in her eyes and the weight of her words.
"You're welcome," Troi replied with a gentle smile, her heart swelling with happiness for the Summers family.
Dawn's smile deepened as she gazed at Buffy, a mix of joy and curiosity shining in her eyes. "How are you feeling, Buffy?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
"Fine," Buffy replied, her voice soft and filled with wonder as she continued to cradle their newborn daughter in her arms.
Dawn's attention briefly shifted to the baby, and in that moment, she felt something extraordinary—a gentle, empathic connection with her daughter. It was a sensation she hadn't experienced since her encounter with Zefram Cochrane on Gamma Canaris N. "I think she may be empathic," Dawn said, her voice tinged with awe.
Buffy followed Dawn's gaze and found herself captivated by her daughter's presence. As she looked down at her tiny, delicate features, she felt the brush of their daughter's empathic mind reaching out to her own. It was an ethereal connection, one that mirrored her own empathic bond with Dawn. The realization brought tears of joy to her eyes. "I think you are right," Buffy said, her voice filled with tenderness and amazement.
Bridge
As Dawn walked onto the bridge of the Enterprise-D for the first time, her heart swelled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.
"Welcome to the bridge, Doctor," Picard said warmly, his eyes meeting hers with a sense of genuine hospitality. "How is your wife? Did she have a good night?"
Dawn's lips curved into a soft smile as she appreciated the captain's concern. "She did, thank you for asking," she replied. "Now I have delivered dozens of babies. But none like this. There was no pain, no trauma. It was effortless for both of them."
Picard's brows furrowed with curiosity. "I'm not sure of your point," he said, slightly puzzled.
"Buffy had Celia yesterday," Dawn explained, her voice filled with amazement. "If I were to examine her now, I would not be able to tell that she just had a baby, or ever had a baby. It's as though the incident never happened."
Picard's eyes widened, and he took a moment to process this extraordinary revelation. He marveled at the profound nature of the Summers family's unique gifts and experiences. "How long before we are ready to begin the transfer?" he inquired, shifting his attention to Data.
"Two hours, nineteen minutes," Data replied with his usual precision.
Picard nodded thoughtfully. "You have the Conn, Number One," he said to Riker, his second-in-command.
"Aye, sir," Riker replied dutifully.
"Doctor, would you accompany me, please. I think it's time I paid my respects," Picard said, his voice carrying a touch of reverence as he stood.
Summers' Quarters
As they entered the quarters, the atmosphere inside was warm and inviting. Dawn's heart swelled with a mix of love and concern as she spoke about Celia's rapid aging. "I should warn you, Celia's rapid aging has continued even after birth," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I am unsure how old she will be now since I started my shift this morning."
Picard listened attentively; his curiosity piqued by the unprecedented nature of the situation. He nodded, acknowledging the complexity of their circumstances, as they stepped further into the living space.
"Buffy, we have a visitor," Dawn called, and Buffy appeared at the doorway to the bedroom area, looking radiant yet weary from the miraculous events of the past day.
"I wanted to come by and see how you were and have a look at your..." Picard trailed off as Celia stepped up next to her mother. His eyes widened with surprise as he observed the girl standing before him. Her rapid aging was evident in her appearance, which seemed far beyond that of a newborn.
"Doctor, how old is she, exactly?" Picard inquired, trying to wrap his mind around this extraordinary development.
Dawn knelt down beside Celia, her tricorder in hand, her heart full of love and concern for her child. "In appearance, almost four years old," she answered, her voice carrying both wonder and uncertainty.
Celia's presence left Picard in awe. He had heard of many incredible occurrences throughout his career, but encountering a child who had aged so rapidly.
"Celia," said Buffy. "Say hello to Captain Picard."
"You mean she can talk?" Picard asked, taken aback by Celia's articulate response.
Celia looked at the captain and then at Dawn, her blue eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and affection. "Hello, Mama Dawn," she said, reaching her small arms around Dawn's neck in a tender hug.
Dawn's heart melted as she returned the embrace. "Hello, Celia," she said, her voice soft and filled with emotion.
Celia's innocent gaze met Picard's, her words reached him with a soothing assurance that belied her young age, "Don't worry. Everything is fine."
The captain couldn't help but be captivated by this extraordinary child. His curiosity about her abilities was evident in his gaze, and he found himself wondering if she had inherited any of her mothers' unique gifts.
Dawn, sensing the unspoken question in Picard's eyes, stepped in to provide clarity. "She's empathic," Dawn said, her voice infused with a mixture of pride and tenderness. "Not to our levels, though. She's not Millennial; she won't live for a thousand years."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Captain's log, supplemental. We are faced with two major problems: Doctor and Commander Summers' child and the deadly cargo we are about to load, which is so desperately needed in the Rachelis system. In the hours since her birth, Celia Summers has continued to age at a rapid rate and now appears, physically and mentally, to be a child of eight. Doctor Summers has confirmed that Celia Summers has acquired all of both of her mothers' gifts, with the exception of the increased lifespan that comes with being a true Millennial. And still there is no indication as to who she really is, or why she is here."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Sickbay
"Sickbay, this is the bridge," Riker said over the intercom from the bridge. "We are ready to begin loading."
"We need a little more time. It's taking longer than we anticipated," Dawn replied as she sat at her desk looking at her computer terminal. She looked up and smiled as Data joined her. "Data, look at this. Confirm for me that this is what I think it is."
Data stepped around the desk and looked at her computer terminal. "If you think it is a genetically engineered biological life-form, then you are correct."
"About twenty percent of the specimens fall into that category," said Dawn as she tapped her commbadge. "Captain Picard."
"Picard here."
"Captain," she began, her voice steady but tinged with concern. "Just so you fully appreciate the risks we are about to take... If the most innocuous specimen on the manifest list gets loose, it will destroy 99 percent of all life on the Enterprise in a matter of hours."
"99 percent?" Picard's incredulous tone reverberated through the comm.
Dawn nodded, her eyes never leaving the computer terminal. "It will, of course, leave me and Buffy alive since we can't die for several hundred more years," she explained. "That said, we would likely be incredibly sick for a while and would have to quarantine ourselves for the remainder of our lives since we would become carriers."
As the implications sank in, the weight of their mission settled heavily on Picard's shoulders. He understood the gravity of the situation they were facing, the potential devastation that could unfold if they weren't cautious. The lives of his crew, including the Summers family, depended on their careful handling of the specimens.
"I understand, Doctor," Picard finally responded, his voice serious. "Do you have a recommendation?"
Dawn paused for a moment, contemplating the immense responsibility she held. Her mind raced with the possibilities, but she knew there were no easy answers. She had to be honest with the captain. "Considering how desperately this is needed, no, I don't," Dawn replied, her voice tinged with regret. "I just wanted you to know what we're carrying."
"Thank you, Doctor. Commander Data, if you have completed your review, you are needed in Transporter Room Three."
"Yes, sir," said Data. He looked at Dawn. "Excuse me, Doctor."
"No problem, Data," said Dawn.
Classroom
Buffy stood by the door, watching Celia as she giggled and played with the puppies. The sight brought a warmth to her heart, knowing that her daughter was happy and flourishing in this new environment. Ms. Gladstone, the teacher, stood beside her, observing Celia with a fond smile.
"Celia!" Buffy called out, her voice gentle and full of affection. Celia looked up, her eyes lighting up as she saw her mother. A little boy stood next to her, catching Celia's attention. The young girl's curiosity was evident as she reached out to touch the boy's hair, her fingertips exploring with wonder.
"She's a very tactile child," Ms. Gladstone remarked. "She wants to touch and feel everything."
Buffy chuckled softly, finding joy in her daughter's curiosity and inquisitive nature. "Come on, sweetheart, time to go," she said, holding out her hand to Celia. The little girl eagerly abandoned her play with the puppies and rushed over to her mother, wrapping her arms around Buffy in a loving embrace.
"Unbelievable - I think she's actually grown since you dropped her off," Ms. Gladstone commented with a chuckle.
Buffy smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love. Her little girl was indeed growing fast, and each day brought new surprises and delights. "I like it here, Mama Buffy," Celia said, her eyes shining with happiness.
"I thought you would," Buffy replied, her voice soft and tender. She knew that finding the right environment for Celia was essential, and seeing her happy in this setting confirmed that they had made the right decision.
"Thank Ms. Gladstone for having you, and let's go get you something to eat," Buffy said, guiding Celia towards the exit.
Celia turned to Ms. Gladstone and said, "Thank you," with an earnest smile that melted the teacher's heart. She then turned to wave goodbye to the other children, still engrossed in their play with the adorable puppies. "Bye..."
Buffy exchanged a grateful glance with Ms. Gladstone, expressing her appreciation for the nurturing environment the teacher had created for Celia. With that, she led her daughter away from the classroom.
Transporter Room 3
Data's determination was palpable as he took charge of the situation. The transporter chief's concern was evident in his furrowed brow as he informed Data about the transporter's difficulties. Data's face remained stoic, but his eyes revealed the sense of urgency he felt.
"The built-in inhibitor is restricting onloading of life-forms known to be hazardous to the occupants of this ship," Data explained calmly, his artificial mind already processing potential solutions. He knew the stakes were high, and he couldn't afford to waste any time. "Have you attempted override?" he asked the transporter chief, seeking any available options.
The transporter chief hesitated, a hint of frustration and apprehension in his voice. "I don't have the authority," he admitted, feeling powerless in the face of the problem.
Data nodded with understanding, realizing that time was of the essence, and someone needed to take the reins. He stepped forward; his confidence unwavering. "Computer, recognize – Lieutenant Commander Data," he commanded, his voice firm and resolute.
The computer complied, accepting Data's authority. "Override protocol is not recommended in this situation," the computer warned once more, but Data remained undeterred.
"Acknowledged. On my authority—begin override," Data declared, making his intentions crystal clear.
As the sequence completed, Data turned his attention to the transporter chief. "Cargo Deck Five. We will commence transport on your command," the transporter chief confirmed, the tension in the room palpable as they prepared for what could be a critical transport operation.
Cargo Deck 5
Geordi's heart raced with anticipation as he conducted the final visual inspection of the containment area. This was no ordinary transport operation; they were dealing with deadly ampules that could pose a serious threat to the ship and its crew. He knew the importance of getting it right and ensuring the safety of everyone on board.
"Transporter Three - we are ready to receive," Geordi called out confidently once he was satisfied with the inspection. He couldn't afford any errors or miscalculations, and his years of experience as Chief Engineer had honed his attention to detail.
As the deadly ampules began to materialize in the containment area, Geordi felt a mix of apprehension and determination. This was a critical moment, and he was responsible for overseeing the safe transfer of the hazardous cargo. He stood beside Riker, who observed the operation closely, fully aware of the potential risks involved.
"Data," Geordi spoke up, his voice steady despite the underlying tension, "the first batch is in place. Ready for the next."
The weight of responsibility bore down on Geordi's shoulders as he closely monitored the progress. Every decision, every action he took, had to be precise and flawless. He knew that the safety of the ship and its crew depended on their success in this mission.
"Inform me when loading is complete and the cargo secure," Riker instructed, his expression serious and focused.
Geordi nodded in acknowledgment, knowing that the First Officer's trust in him only added to the gravity of the situation. "Aye, sir," he replied, his determination evident in his voice.
Summers' Quarters
Dawn couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth as she entered her quarters, accompanied by Captain Picard. Her eyes immediately found Buffy, who was preparing dinner for Celia. The sight of her wife filled her heart with love and contentment.
"I had a free minute, Buffy, just wanted to see how our daughter is doing," Dawn said, her voice tender and filled with affection as she approached Buffy.
Buffy greeted her with a soft smile, and they shared a sweet kiss. "She's doing fine, Dawnie," Buffy replied, her voice carrying the same affectionate tone. "I was just giving Celia her dinner."
As Dawn looked at Celia, who was sitting at the table, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and love. The little girl was growing up so quickly, and every moment with her felt precious.
"Do you want your dinner now, too?" Celia asked, her innocent eyes glancing towards Picard, who had entered the room with Dawn.
"No, Celia, but thank you for the invitation," Picard replied kindly, his demeanor warm and welcoming.
"You're welcome." Celia's excitement was infectious as she continued, "Have you ever played with puppies?"
Picard looked towards Buffy and Dawn for an explanation, and Buffy was quick to respond, her smile never fading, "There were some puppies in the nursery today."
Picard's smile widened, and he seemed genuinely intrigued by Celia's suggestion. "No, I have never played with puppies."
Celia's enthusiasm was endearing, and it brought a sense of joy to the room. "You'd like it," she said with excitement. "You should go to the nursery while the puppies are still there."
Picard chuckled softly, charmed by Celia's innocence. "Perhaps later," he replied, his eyes softening as he regarded the little girl.
With a gentle touch of warmth and care, Buffy retrieved a bowl of piping-hot, steaming soup from the replicator, placing it enticingly before Celia. Mesmerized, Celia examined the tantalizing tendrils of steam rising from the bowl, her curiosity sparking like a tiny flame. With cautious fascination, she extended her hand towards the ethereal vapor, delighting in the sensation of moist warmth on her fingers. Everyone present—Buffy, Dawn, and Picard—could see how deeply Celia's physical senses captivated the young girl.
Driven by her unyielding inquisitiveness, Celia daringly immersed her hand into the hot soup, holding it there for a moment. A sudden yelp of pain escaped her lips, tears welling in her eyes as she quickly sought solace in Dawn's comforting embrace, seeking refuge in her protective arms.
"Oh, Mama Dawn... ow..." Celia whimpered, her fingers showing the telltale signs of a burn.
Dawn swiftly attended to her daughter, gently examining her injured fingers with a medical instrument retrieved from her uniform pocket. Her voice, like a soothing lullaby, sought to reassure the distressed child. "See, sweetie. It's not serious."
Celia observed with rapt attention as her mother skillfully applied medication, easing away the pain. As the discomfort dissipated, Celia's fingers became a subject of intrigue rather than distress. The young girl then tenderly brushed her cheek, discovering traces of wetness there. "My face is wet," she remarked, her innocent curiosity in full display.
Dawn lovingly wiped away the tears, her fingers tracing the contours of her daughter's cheeks, while Buffy gently stroked Celia's hair, their maternal love an ever-present, comforting presence.
"Feeling better now, sweetheart?" Buffy asked, and Celia nodded contentedly, snuggling up between her two caring mothers, basking in their affectionate warmth.
Dawn observed her daughter intently, fully aware of the depth of the child's inquisitive nature. "She allowed herself to be burned," she remarked, acknowledging the extraordinary extent of Celia's curiosity.
"For the experience," Picard agreed, his eyes gentle as he engaged the young girl. "Celia, could you tell us why you are here?"
With a tender innocence that melted hearts, Celia replied, "Because Mama Buffy said it was time to eat." Her response carried an endearing simplicity, displaying the trust she placed in her mother's guidance.
With a gentle probing, Picard sought to unravel the truth behind the child's enigmatic arrival. "No, I mean... why you are here on this ship?" he inquired, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.
Celia looked up at the captain, her gaze unwavering and earnest. "I live here," she stated, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
Yet, Picard knew that there was an untold tale within her, waiting to be unfurled. Buffy, with a maternal pride, encouraged her daughter's growth and understanding. "Celia, Jean-Luc wants to know if you are ready to tell us why you came here," Buffy gently coaxed, her smile both comforting and encouraging.
In her youthful wisdom, Celia wasn't quite prepared to reveal her innermost thoughts just yet. She shook her head, her eyes shining with curiosity and determination. "No. Not yet," she declared, as if aware that her true revelations required time and introspection.
Observing the exchange, Buffy understood her daughter on a profound level. "The answer is within her," Buffy murmured, her voice carrying a mix of awe and admiration. "When her cognitive powers develop sufficiently, she will be able to articulate it."
"I hope she will tell us soon," Picard said.
As Celia took a sip from the glass, a sense of innocent wonder danced in her eyes, the liquid becoming an exploration of taste and sensation. She swirled it in her mouth, savoring the experience before allowing it to trickle down her throat. And then, as if driven by an insatiable curiosity, she poured a small amount of the liquid onto her leg, wanting to understand how it would feel against her skin.
Amidst this tender moment of discovery, Riker's urgent voice broke through the tranquility, summoning Picard back to the pressing matters on the bridge. "Captain to the bridge," the call echoed from his commbadge.
With a brief glance of concern at Buffy and Dawn, Picard acknowledged the call. "I'm on my way, Number One," he responded. "Keep me apprised of her, Doctor, Commander," he requested.
As the door closed behind Picard, Celia bid a heartfelt farewell, her innocent voice carrying a mix of warmth and longing.
Turning back to her wife, Dawn couldn't help but bring up a subtle yet significant detail. "Buffy," she began, her eyes searching for understanding. "Did you notice you called Jean-Luc by his name?"
Buffy's realization washed over her with a sigh of concern. "I noticed after," she admitted, acknowledging the unintentional slip that revealed their knowledge of a future that Picard wasn't meant to know. A weight of responsibility settled on both their shoulders. "We both have to be better at that," Buffy stated with determination, knowing the implications of their foreknowledge. "From what we both gathered during the Enterprise's trip back to 2063 is that he didn't know, which means we can't let him know. Hopefully, he will just think it was a slip of the tongue."
Bridge
As the hum of the ship's activity filled the air, Riker's voice carried a sense of assurance and professionalism. "The cargo has been loaded and is secure," he declared, his eyes briefly meeting Picard's as the captain stepped off the turbolift.
In response, Picard's commanding presence exuded both determination and responsibility. "Take us out of orbit, Number One," he directed, a sense of purpose resonating in his voice. The weight of the ship and its mission rested on his shoulders, yet he bore it with the grace of a seasoned leader. "Then set a course for Rachelis—warp nine," he added, the firmness of his tone underscoring the urgency of their voyage.
Cargo Deck 5
Hester Dealt's usually composed demeanor betrayed a growing concern as he scanned the containment grid with his equipment. "Something's wrong," he uttered with an edge of worry in his voice.
Geordi hurried over to Hester, his own anxiety mounting at the prospect of an issue within the containment area. "What is it?" he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.
"Growth," Hester responded, the word hanging heavily in the air, laden with a sense of impending danger.
"Where?" Geordi asked suddenly concerned.
"L-seven-three," Hester replied.
The gravity of the situation sank in as Geordi focused on the critical area in question. He activated a monitor, and the screen revealed a grid display of the 512 modules contained within. His eyes darted across the screen, searching for the source of the disturbance. Among the myriad indicators, one module on the far side flashed insistently, demanding his attention.
Steeling himself for the revelation, Geordi manipulated the panel, adjusting the display to gain a better view of the blinking light. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized the severity of the malfunction.
Feeling the weight of responsibility, Geordi tapped his commbadge, his voice trembling slightly as he made the dreaded call to the bridge. "Bridge, this is Cargo Deck Five," he announced, hoping for a simple solution but fearing the worst.
Captain Picard's voice came through, his presence offering a sense of stability and support. "Yes, Lieutenant La Forge," he responded, ever-ready to face whatever challenges the crew encountered.
Taking a deep breath, Geordi forced himself to admit the gravity of the situation. "There is a malfunction in the containment area," he confessed, the weight of those words carried by the weight of his shoulders.
"How serious?"
As if echoing Geordi's sentiments, Hester added solemnly, "Very."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"Captain's log, supplemental. For reasons as yet unknown, one of the specimens of Plasma Plague is growing."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Cargo Deck 5
Geordi's voice trembled with a mix of urgency and frustration as he tapped his commbadge, his heart racing with concern. "Captain," he called out, trying to keep his emotions in check, "the power to the containment grid must have somehow been affected when we increased to warp velocity."
Picard's brows furrowed with confusion and skepticism. "I don't see how that would be possible," he responded, a sense of disbelief in his tone.
Geordi sighed, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon him. He knew that such an occurrence was highly improbable, yet he couldn't ignore the potential consequences. "I don't either," he admitted, "but if we could return to impulse, we would know for sure."
On the bridge, Picard swiftly made the decision, aware that time was of the essence. "Return to impulse," he ordered, his voice authoritative yet tinged with a hint of concern.
As the ship transitioned to a slower pace, tension hung in the air, each moment feeling like an eternity to Geordi. He anxiously awaited Hester's report, the seconds stretching into eternity. The entire crew held their breath, unified in their shared determination to resolve the crisis.
Finally, Hester completed his inspection, and Geordi's heart sank as he saw the man shake his head. The emotional rollercoaster of hope and dread surged within him. "There's no change," Hester declared solemnly, his voice laced with disappointment. "It wasn't the warp drive."
Bridge
Picard's sigh echoed through the bridge, a heavy expression of disappointment and weariness. He had known, deep down, that their efforts on the bridge wouldn't yield an immediate solution.
Riker's request to leave the bridge was accompanied by a hint of frustration, a visible display of the mounting pressure they all felt. "Permission to leave the bridge," Riker asked, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and concern.
Picard nodded, granting the first officer's request with a knowing gaze. "Granted," he replied, understanding that everyone needed a moment to regroup and reassess the situation.
As Riker made his way to the turbolift, the air seemed charged with tension, the weight of responsibility heavy upon his shoulders. He couldn't face the possibility of failure without the valuable insights of his reliable companion. "Commander Data, you're with me," Riker said to the android, relying on Data's unique abilities to aid their investigation.
Data's response was precise and poised, his analytical mind processing the situation with remarkable speed. He stood and followed Riker.
As the two exited the bridge, Picard's attention turned to the intercom. "Doctor Summers," he began, acknowledging her pivotal role in the crew's efforts to overcome the challenge at hand.
Sickbay
Dawn's heart skipped a beat as Picard's voice resonated through the intercom. She had been fully engrossed in reviewing medical records, but the captain's urgent tone pulled her back to the present. It was evident that something was amiss, and her sense of duty took precedence.
"Yes, Captain," she responded, her voice a mix of curiosity and readiness to lend her expertise to whatever challenge lay ahead.
"We are having some difficulties on Cargo Deck Five - your presence is requested."
"On my way," Dawn said as she from her seat, a sense of anticipation filled her, her mind racing with possibilities.
Cargo Deck 5
As the crew gathered around the monitoring equipment, an air of uncertainty and tension enveloped them. Geordi, off to one side, peered intently at a distant sector of the containment field, determined to uncover the source of the mysterious disturbance.
Riker's voice carried a mix of frustration and concern, seeking answers amidst the perplexing situation. "Why that module and not the others?" he questioned, the weight of the dilemma clearly weighing on his mind.
Data, ever the logical presence, immediately sought assistance from the computer, instructing it to run a diagnostic on the troublesome module. "Computer, run diagnostic on module L-seven-three," he directed, his analytical mind working rapidly to identify the root cause.
The computer's response was swift, but it brought no immediate clarity. "All circuits functional," the cold mechanical voice replied, offering no indication of the underlying issue.
Geordi's expression was a mix of confusion and bewilderment as he relayed the readings from the monitor. "Temperature - as set – minus ninety-seven degrees. Humidity—twelve percent. Lumins – zero," he reported, his voice tinged with frustration. "Electromagnetic containment integrity... Everything right down the line... exactly as it should be."
Data's logical mind sought to find an alternative explanation. "Perhaps it is a sensor malfunction," he proposed, hoping for a simple resolution to the growing concern. "Computer - query. Is growth actually occurring?"
But the computer's reply shattered that hope, confirming the troubling reality. "Confirmed," it declared, leaving no room for doubt. Growth was indeed occurring within the containment grid, a fact that added to the mounting anxiety of the situation.
In that pivotal moment, Dawn arrived on the scene, sensing the worry and apprehension that surrounded her fellow crew members. She knew, with a sinking heart, that her concerns had been realized. She greeted Riker, Data, and Hester with a nod, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and determination.
Riker's statement conveyed the gravity of the issue. "One of the specimens is growing," he revealed, his voice carrying the weight of the impending danger.
With her medical insight, Dawn didn't hesitate to take charge of the situation. Her gaze locked on Hester as she issued a firm command, fully aware of the difficult decision ahead. "Destroy it," she said, her voice steady yet resolute, recognizing the need to contain the potential threat at any cost.
As the weight of the situation bore down on them, Hester's reluctant admission hung heavily in the air. "I can't." The sense of powerlessness in his voice mirrored the deep concern etched on his face.
Riker's resolve didn't waver despite the mounting challenges. He turned to Data, issuing a direct order. "Data, prepare to jettison that module," he commanded, hoping that disposing of the affected specimen might offer some respite.
However, Hester's response shattered that glimmer of hope. "We can't do that either. It will go into a spore and remain until it comes in contact with a planet or another ship. The results would be disastrous." The gravity of the situation was evident in their expressions, and the potential for catastrophe loomed ominously.
Dawn, her heart heavy with the knowledge of the consequences, spoke up with a somber conviction. She had foreseen the risks, and now they were unfolding before her. "I believe, Commander," she said to Riker, meeting his gaze with a mix of sorrow and determination. "That Mister Dealt is correct. I warned the captain when we took on all of this, that should anything like this happened that there would only be two survivors on the Enterprise within a matter of hours and even then Buffy and I would become carriers and would have to likely be quarantined for the rest of our lives."
"It can't break through this," Geordi said motioning toward the containment area.
Dawn's reply dispelled any illusions. "Yes, it will," she replied with a heavy sigh, her expression one of acceptance tinged with sadness.
Riker knew they had to act swiftly to mitigate the potential disaster. He tapped his commbadge, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Captain," he called, making the difficult decision to share their predicament. "We may not be able to get control of this situation. I recommend making arrangements to transfer all non-essential personnel to the saucer section," Riker continued, acknowledging the necessity of preparing for the worst. "If we lose containment, we should be prepared to separate."
"Make it so," came Picard's voice.
"Now the question is, why this one specimen and none of the others?" Dawn wondered. "Something is stimulating it." Her gaze locked on Hester, seeking any clues to the origins of the troublesome specimen. "Do you have its etiology? How it was developed?" she inquired, her voice a mix of urgency and determination.
With a sense of purpose, Hester moved to the monitor, summoning the history of the ill-fated module. As the data appeared on the screen, the crew held their breath, hoping to unravel the mystery that lay before them.
Dawn's voice quivered with a mix of anxiety and realization as she shared her knowledge about the mutated strain, drawing from her memory of past research. "It's a mutated strain developed by Doctor Susan Nuress during an outbreak of Plasma Plague seventy years ago in the Oby System," she revealed, her eyes reflecting the weight of the information. "It was number nine in a series of tests, this particular one bombarded by low levels of Eichner radiation."
The crew's attention shifted to Hester, their hope and desperation hanging on his response. Dawn turned to Hester, her voice trembling as she posed the crucial question. "Could exposure to Eichner radiation stimulate growth?"
Hester's hands moved quickly, conducting a sweep of the area with his equipment, his heart pounding as he processed the implications of Dawn's inquiry. "Yes, it could, but..." he began, only to be interrupted by a sudden surge on his equipment. His eyes widened with dread as he picked up low levels of Eichner radiation.
His expression spoke volumes, a mix of shock and frustration. "Uh, oh... I'm detecting low levels of Eichner radiation," Hester confessed, the gravity of the situation becoming all too real.
Riker's voice carried a hint of reproach as he questioned Hester's oversight. "Why didn't you catch it before?" he asked, his eyes locking on the man with a sense of urgency.
Hester's response was immediate, revealing the unexpected nature of the radiation's appearance. "Because it wasn't here before..." he admitted, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him.
"Well, it is now. What emits that type radiation?" Dawn pressed for more information.
Data was quick to provide the crew with potential sources of the troubling radiation. "A subspace phase inverter," he stated matter-of-factly, his synthetic mind processing data at lightning speed.
Geordi responded, the anxiety evident in his voice. "We don't have one," he confirmed, eliminating one possible cause.
Data continued, listing another source. "Certain cyanoacrylates," he said, his tone unwavering, though the situation was becoming increasingly dire.
"We don't have any on the ship..." Dawn's words trailed off, the implication of Data's statement dawning on her. "What else? Because it's here and we better find it."
Summers' Quarters
As the control panel dimmed the windows, enveloping the room in a soft, warm glow, Buffy tenderly tucked Celia into bed. The ambiance should have brought comfort, but the weight of her daughter's words quickly erased any sense of tranquility.
Celia's innocent face held an earnestness that tugged at Buffy's heartstrings. "I can feel that some of the people are very... worried," the little girl confided, her eyes seeking reassurance from her mother.
Buffy caressed Celia's cheek gently, hoping to convey a sense of calm amid the storm of emotions they both felt. "Yes, I feel it too," she acknowledged, her voice soft and soothing, "but don't you worry."
Celia's next words startled Buffy, her heart skipping a beat at the unexpected confession. "It's me, Mommy—I'm the reason," Celia revealed, her eyes brimming with a mix of vulnerability and regret.
Buffy's confusion deepened, struggling to comprehend how anything could be her daughter's fault. Her maternal instincts went into overdrive, as she gently cupped Celia's face in her hands, seeking to understand. "What?" Buffy asked, her voice laced with concern and bewilderment.
In that moment, Celia's young heart bore the burden of something that went beyond her years. "It's me," she repeated.
Buffy's world seemed to shatter as she processed Celia's words, her heart pounding in her chest as panic set in. "You?" she stammered, desperately seeking to understand the incomprehensible truth her daughter was revealing.
With a solemn nod, Celia confirmed the unthinkable, her young face a mix of determination and sorrow. "Yes," she whispered, her voice quivering with a heavy burden beyond her tender years. "I have to leave you now, or it will be very bad for everyone."
Buffy's eyes welled with tears as she struggled to grasp the magnitude of what her daughter was saying. The notion of losing Celia was unfathomable, and fear gripped her heart like a vise. "What are you saying?" Buffy pleaded, her voice trembling with anguish and denial. She couldn't bear to imagine a world without her beloved daughter.
But in that moment, as Buffy looked into Celia's eyes, she saw a serene acceptance that sent a chilling realization through her. The strength and wisdom that emanated from her little girl were both awe-inspiring and heartbreaking.
Celia's tender smile offered a sense of reassurance that belied the heavy truth of her impending decision. "I have to leave now," she gently repeated, knowing the pain her mother would endure.
Buffy's denial morphed into a desperate plea; her voice tinged with desperation. "Leave?" she uttered, her heart breaking with the understanding of what Celia was about to do. "You are going to die. No. No, you can't."
Celia's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her resolve remained unwavering. She smiled at Buffy, a profound love and wisdom shining through her innocent gaze. With a gentle closing of her eyes, she prepared to embrace her fate, knowing the weight of her sacrifice.
In that heart-wrenching moment, Buffy's instinct to protect her daughter kicked in, and she immediately reached for her commbadge. Her voice trembled as she called for help, her love for Celia guiding her actions. "Summers to Summers," she spoke, the words catching in her throat. "Dawn, medical emergency in our quarters, it's Celia!"
Dawn's voice came through with a mix of urgency and concern, her love for both Buffy and Celia evident in every word. "On my way, Buffy," she assured, understanding the gravity of the situation.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Dawn's heart raced as she sprang into action, her motherly instincts taking over. With swift determination, she pulled back the covers, revealing her daughter's fragile form. The medical tricorder became an extension of her hands, scanning Celia with urgency, each beep of the device echoing the intensity of the moment.
Buffy's voice trembled with fear and desperation, her plea hanging heavily in the air like a fragile thread of hope. "Dawn, save her," she implored, her eyes locking onto her wife with a mixture of love and terror.
As Riker, Data, and Picard entered the quarters, the gravity of the situation was palpable. Dawn's gaze never wavered from her daughter, seeking to uncover the truth behind Celia's condition. "What happened? Did Celia eat anything? Did she fall?" she questioned, her focus solely on finding answers.
Buffy's response was swift, her voice betraying her distress. "No," she stated, her mind racing to understand the sudden turn of events.
Data's analysis, delivered in his typically stoic tone, sent shivers down their spines. "The child is the source of the unusual radiation." The revelation was both shocking and heartbreaking, leaving the crew stunned and grappling with the implications.
Buffy's admission echoed Celia's earlier revelation, each word heavy with sorrow and acceptance. "Celia said she's the reason the ship is in danger," she revealed, her voice filled with love and maternal understanding.
Data acknowledged the truth, his logical mind offering no room for doubt. "That analysis is correct," he confessed, his synthetic voice reflecting the weight of the revelation.
As Dawn continued her efforts to stabilize her daughter, her heart ached with the fear of losing her precious child. "I'm losing life signs." Time seemed to slow as she administered a dose from her hypospray, praying for a positive response. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited, the silence in the room deafening.
But the moment stretched on, and there was no immediate change. Dawn's heart sank with each passing second, and a sense of helplessness washed over her. The room was thick with emotion, and the collective desperation of the crew was a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the power of a mother's love.
As the reality of their loss settled in, Dawn and Buffy stood side by side, their hearts shattered into a million pieces. The weight of grief bore down on them like an immeasurable burden, leaving them utterly broken. The bond they shared as mothers was now tinged with an indescribable pain.
As the radiant energy began to gather around Celia's lifeless form, it was as if the universe itself mourned the loss of this young soul. The glimmering light slowly rose, casting a faint glow in the room, an ethereal reminder of the life that had slipped away.
With trembling hands, Buffy and Dawn reached out, their fingertips gently cradling the shimmering energy. In that poignant moment, they held onto the essence of their precious daughter, desperate to preserve her memory in their hearts forever. As they held the light between them, an inexplicable sensation washed over them, a bittersweet comfort that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the physical world.
Amidst the overwhelming grief, a strange sense of solace filled their hearts. The pain and despair they had carried within them for what felt like an eternity slowly ebbed away, replaced by a subtle warmth that emanated from the radiant energy they cupped in their hands. Through their tears, the women managed to find a flicker of a smile, a testament to their unwavering love for their lost child.
In an act of pure love and release, they gently let go of the glowing energy, treating it with the utmost care, as if they were setting a cherished bird free to soar in the vast expanse of the universe. The light seemed to hesitate for a fleeting moment, as if Celia's essence lingered, reluctant to part ways with the mothers who had loved her so fiercely.
But with a sense of acceptance, the light gradually passed through the walls, venturing into the vastness of space. As it disappeared, it carried with it a piece of Buffy and Dawn's hearts, leaving them forever changed.
The intercom crackled to life, breaking the somber silence, and Geordi's voice carried a glimmer of hope. "Captain. The containment field has stabilized," he announced.
Picard's acknowledgment was solemn, his mind processing the profound truth they had just witnessed. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he replied, his voice reflecting both gratitude and contemplation.
Buffy's words held a mixture of grief and understanding as she looked at Picard. "Then Celia was right. She was the cause," she stated, grappling with the magnitude of her daughter's sacrifice.
The captain's reply was simple but tinged with a sense of awe. "Apparently so."
Dawn stepped forward, her voice filled with both sorrow and compassion, eager to share the truth about their remarkable daughter. "She is a life-force entity," she explained, her voice gentle yet resolute. "As we passed each other in space, she was curious and wanted to know about us. And she thought the best way to learn was to go through the process. To be born, to live as one of us, and in that way, to understand us."
Picard's expression softened, touched by the depth of Celia's innocent curiosity and love for humanity. "Captain, she never meant any harm," Dawn emphasized, wanting the crew to understand that Celia's actions had been driven by a profound desire to connect and learn.
The captain's gaze shifted between Buffy and Dawn, a deep appreciation for their love and understanding evident in his eyes. "There was a moment when you both smiled," he observed, recognizing the profound bond between parent and child, even in the face of tragedy.
Tears glistened in Buffy's eyes as she recounted the final moments they shared with Celia's essence. "She told us thank you," Buffy revealed, her voice a delicate mixture of heartache and gratitude. "We told her we will miss her – and we will."
Bridge
The atmosphere on the bridge was somber, emotions tugging at the hearts of the crew as they approached their destination. Picard's eyes held a sense of weariness, a weight of responsibility that extended beyond his role as captain. "Standard station approach, Mister Crusher," he instructed, his voice carrying the weight of the journey they had undertaken.
Wesley's response was respectful, but beneath his youthful confidence, a touch of vulnerability was evident. "Standard approach, aye," he replied, his eyes glancing briefly toward Picard, a silent acknowledgment of the trust placed in him.
Picard knew that they needed to proceed with urgency, and he called upon the transporter room to swiftly complete the transfer. His voice carried a sense of purpose, a desire to move forward and continue their mission despite the emotional turmoil. "Transporter Room Three, this is the captain. We have arrived. Let's make this transfer with all deliberate speed, and get on about our business," he commanded, hoping to return to the mission at hand, even if the sorrow still lingered in their hearts.
Data's response was dutiful, but there was a hint of sympathy in his tone. "Yes, sir," he acknowledged, his ever-logical mind understanding the captain's intentions.
Riker's words carried a sense of relief mixed with a lingering sadness. "I will be glad to be relieved of this cargo," he admitted, his thoughts momentarily drifting to Buffy and Dawn, who had experienced a profound loss as a result of their deadly cargo.
With a nod, Picard handed over command to his first officer, acknowledging the emotional burden they all carried. "You have the bridge, Number One," he stated, his voice gentle yet firm. He knew that Riker understood his sentiments, as they both shared thoughts about the grieving mothers and what they had lost.
As Picard turned to head toward his ready room, Wesley's voice called out, a hint of hesitancy in his words. The young ensign had experienced much during their recent journey, and he sought a moment with his captain to process the emotions that weighed on his heart. "Captain," Wesley called after Picard, his voice soft yet filled with a desire for connection.
Picard turned back to face Wesley, his gaze meeting the young ensign's. He recognized the earnestness in Wesley's expression and offered him a moment of understanding. "Yes, ensign?" Picard responded; his attention focused on the young officer.
Wesley's request was sincere, seeking guidance and solace in the face of loss and tragedy. "Could I see you when you have a moment?" he asked, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and strength.
"In my Ready Room when your duties permit," Picard replied.
Ten-Forward
Dawn stood by the window in Ten-Forward, her gaze fixed on the vast expanse of space. Unbeknownst to her, she had unknowingly caught the attention of an old friend, someone she hadn't seen in quite some time. Guinan, who had been quietly observing her from across the room, couldn't resist the pull to join Dawn by the window.
Approaching with a gentle smile, Guinan offered her assistance, but her words were laden with a deeper understanding. "Can I get you something?" she inquired, sensing the weight of emotions that seemed to envelop Dawn.
"No. I just wanted to stand here," Dawn replied, her voice tinged with a mix of longing and contemplation.
Guinan nodded in understanding, acknowledging the beauty of the view before them. "I don't blame you—it's beautiful… Dawn," she murmured, a tender warmth in her voice.
Dawn's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the familiar voice and turned to meet Guinan's gaze. A wave of nostalgia washed over her, and a genuine smile graced her lips. "Hello, Guinan," she greeted, the sound of her old friend's name bringing a sense of comfort.
Guinan's intuition shone through as she playfully offered a choice of refreshment. "Hello, Dawn. How about some Mareuvian Tea? Or have your tastes changed since last I saw you?" she inquired, a subtle reminder of the bond they shared, one that spanned centuries of friendship and understanding.
Dawn chuckled softly, touched by Guinan's thoughtfulness. "You know me well," she admitted, her eyes reflecting the depths of their connection. The familiarity of Guinan's presence brought a sense of solace to her heart, as if a missing piece had been found.
With a hint of amusement, Dawn inquired about Guinan's current ventures. "So, you're taking a break from your bar on Earth?" she asked, genuinely curious about her friend's endeavors.
Guinan's voice held a sense of wisdom and understanding as she responded to Dawn's inquiry. Her words carried a depth of emotion, a reflection of the years of experience and connections she had formed. "From time to time, I, like you and Buffy, do leave Earth," she shared, a hint of nostalgia touching her tone.
With a warm gesture, Guinan signaled to one of her servers, who promptly brought two glasses of Mareuvian Tea. The exchange was gentle and familiar, an intimate connection between the two friends. "So, Dawn, what do you see when you look out there?" Guinan asked, her genuine curiosity evident in her eyes.
Dawn's gaze returned to the window, but her expression betrayed the heaviness in her heart. "Loneliness," she confessed, her voice tinged with vulnerability. The vastness of space seemed to mirror the uncertainty and longing she felt within.
Guinan's follow-up question probed deeper, seeking to uncover the root of Dawn's emotions. "Why?" she asked gently, inviting Dawn to share the source of her pain.
Dawn's response was heartfelt, her words laden with a profound sense of loss. "Because, for a brief time, that entity was mine and Buffy's child," she revealed, her voice trembling with emotion. "And now I don't know if we'll ever have children again. For the singular reason that we will have to watch it grow up, grow old, and die. And we will remain the same."
In the face of such uncertainty, Guinan gently guided Dawn to focus on the present and her true desires. Her words carried a sense of encouragement and empathy. "Maybe, Dawn, instead of thinking of the future, you should think of the present. What is it you truly want? What lies in your heart?" she suggested, urging Dawn to embrace her innermost desires.
Dawn's response was heartfelt, reflecting her deep longing for motherhood and the legacy she wished to leave behind. "To have a child," she admitted, her voice a whisper of hope. "To watch him or her grow up, get married, have children, and then grandchildren. To see that when our thousand years are up, that Buffy and I've left a mark on the world. A legacy. That the Summers name will not end with us."
Guinan's advice was filled with wisdom, urging Dawn to consider her own needs and desires amidst the complexities of life. "Sometimes the game is to know when to consider yourself more than others and to give yourself permission to be... selfish," she said, her voice gentle but firm. It was a reminder that self-care and self-discovery were essential aspects of living a fulfilling life.
Dawn's reply carried a resonance that reflected the impact of her experiences and the wisdom she had gained. "As my friend James Kirk once said, 'The needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many,'" she recited, her voice carrying a sense of determination to find her own path and follow her heart.
Author's Note 1: Originally Buffy would have been helm exclusive during TNG. Then I remembered that Wesley was on helm till he left for the Academy. That's why she will be doubling between Helm and Engineering. Even though rank wise Buffy outranks Geordi, when she is in Engineering, she will be Assistant Chief Engineer. At least till Wesley leaves then she will be on the bridge for majority of the rest of the story. Basically, we have a reversal of roles between Buffy and Dawn. Dawn was always the one on both NX-01 and Kirk's Enterprise to be flitting between departments, and Buffy was always first officer. That switch started in the interlude last chapter to set up TNG.
The bar Dawn mentions when talking to Guinan is a nod to the second season of Star Trek: Picard where Guinan owns a bar at 10 Forward Avenue in Los Angeles.
