9: Rita, Uninterrupted

Posted on Mon Aug 10th, 2020 @ 10:16am by Commander Rita Paris

Mission: The Bulikaya Particle
Location: USS Exeter, NCC 1706
Timeline: 2270, Kelvinverse

The first thing she noticed, as the flare of the incandescent faded, was it being replaced by lens flare. Reflecting off the polished shiny surfaces of the bridge, so unlike the one recorded in the history books where she now lived. Technology had run on an entirely different course in their universe, and in many ways was more advanced than what existed in Starfleet in the 2390s.

Of course, she was back on the bridge. Standing next to her old chair, looking at Captain Michael Stuart, there in his command chair... her handsome captain, ever struggling to restrain his darker impulses and strive to be a better captain, a better man. At the science station stood Sonak, and there beside her was the closest analogy to herself she had run across yet.

“Hello, Rita,” the visitor said as Captain Stuart popped the console on his command chair and produced a phaser. Rather than calling Security to the bridge, he was choosing to handle it himself- typical of the maverick captains of his day. Raising her hands, Rita smiled.

“Commander Rita Paris of the USS Hera, requesting permission to come aboard, Captain Stuart,” she explained. “I come in peace, only for a while. And do I have a story to tell you...”

An hour later, she, her local analogy, Sonak and Stuart sat in her old office, which, paradoxically, was identical to her current office, through a twist of cosmic fate. A fact which still amused Rita every time she saw it, yet made her grateful to the forces of the universe that had conspired to make it so. A career’s worth of mementos and souvenirs and trinkets, models and photos and action figures decorated the walls, while the triangular conference room table that served as her desk was still cluttered with PaDDs, flimsies and an alien artifact or two that was still in need of cataloguing.

While it was a bit odd to be on the other side of the desk, it didn’t surprise her that this was where they brought her to interview her and test her, to see if she was indeed another Rita Paris. Their adventures had diverged back on Ajilon Prime, when her Sonak had opted not to transport, but to call for a beam-out, which he had estimated to have a slightly better chance of success than his hastily rewired transporter control panel. Thus they had beamed out, safely, and life went on for them in the 23rd century.

Having relayed her own fantastical tale of adventure, she could see the reactions. Sonak asked probing questions, and attempted to trap her in a logic puzzle a few times during the conversation. Which most likely would have exposed a fraud, save that he was the one who had taught them to her- children’s games on Vulcan, but for the human girl they had been challenging enough. Now they helped serve to verify her bonafides.

Initially Michael Stuart had been suspicious, with a touch of aggressive confrontation peppered in. But he was calmer than he had been, better able to restrain his temper. Only once or twice did he make a threat, each time accompanied by eyerolls from both Ritas. It seemed that a few more years with the junior officer, now a Commander, had continued to mold the young captain, demoted back down from Admiral. Now it seemed the Exeter had two Captains, yet still one master and commander.

As for the local Rita Paris, she asked the occasional clarification question, but otherwise she seemed quiet and observant. At first it struck Rita, as she did not expect that behavior. But watching the dynamic of the three officers interacting, Rita realized that here, she had the luxury of not having to take the lead. In this universe, with a Captain and a First Officer above her, Rita could be more observant, removed from the command spotlight, and focus on supporting the command team.

It had been a long time since she had seen this pattern... two years now, in fact. Stuart, headstrong, rash, and impulsive. Sonak calm, cool, observant and of course logical. While Rita seemed to be the bridge between the two of them- the id, ego and superego.

Fedepedia, the Federation encyclopedia: In Freudian psychiatry the Super Ego is the most complicated of the 3 parts of Freud’s version of the psyche. The Super Ego served not just as the conscience, it is also the part of the psyche that embraces and believes in the power of human potential. It is the part of us that believes in the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. It governs behavior from a moral and socially relativistic position. If the Id represented the emotions, and the Ego represented logical actions, then the Super Ego represented the spirit of humanity.

Let it not be said her psychology courses at the Academy were a waste.

Seeing the old dynamic, here, in the office where they always gathered to talk, to plan, to convene... it was nice, Wonderful, really. In the two years she had been living in the future, she still ran into something every day that reminded her that she was unfamiliar with- the technology, the geopolitical landscape, history, current events. All this time she realized how she had put those feelings of inadequacy she felt, in a future she still did not completely understand, on a back burner to try to cope with it. Yet here, back in her own element, she knew the technology, could work on just about any system on the starship, knew the spaceways and who was who.

It felt nice to be that secure in her own knowledge again, if even for a brief respite.

The truth of the matter was, despite the suspicion, she was happy to be here... one of the few leaps she could say that about. While Sonak was with her on the Hera- ever her implacable and unrelenting hero, he had crossed time and space to return to her side, making good on the simple proposal that had mapped out their lives. The course that you plot I shall follow, for I trust you to guide us both through this undiscovered country. That was what he’d told her, the night after they had returned from Talos IV, when she had spoken plainly and truthfully to him, and they had begun their relationship while condemned to a death sentence from Starfleet itself.

I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but also believe we are only fated to do the things we would choose anyway. And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, on a hundred different worlds, in any version of reality.

That had been her response, and seeing him and herself, of a sort, here on The Exeter, where they belonged, still together, still the trio of space explorers working together as a crew, made her both happy and wistful.

Which made the next conversation that much harder.

“Okay, since no one is pointing a phaser at me I’m assuming you believe me,” Rita quipped, and Stuart chuckled. It was odd meeting a version of Rita who was so confident and strident. But apparently, living at the close of the 24th century had done worlds of good for her self-esteem and confidence.

“Which means that we need to have a rather uncomfortable conversation about spacetime, alternate realities and how one can create a bubble ‘pocket’ universe that will inevitably collapse in on itself. I can explain, but honestly a lot of the science is over my head. There’s an easy way to relay the information, of course, but... I think that’s between Sonak and Rita here.”

“Meaning what exactly?” the local Rita spoke up. She’d been quiet through a lot of this, and through watching and listening to her doppleganger, she was feeling something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was definitely bothering her.

“Well, a mind meld. Were Sonak to meld with me, he would-” Rita began, only to be interrupted by herself.

“No,” the Second Officer of the Exeter stated quite firmly, then directed her attention to the ship’s commander..”Captain, if you buy all of this that’s fine. But even if we take her word for all of that, melding with Sonak is not something to be undertaken lightly, and she’d know that if she were really... some version of me.”

As Sonak prepared to reply, the visiting Rita interjected. “Captain? Commander? May we have the room for a moment? I think I need a moment with myself, if you don’t mind. Mr. Sonak will still be quite aware of Commander Paris, so she will still be safely monitored. But I think she and I need a moment, if you don’t mind, sirs?”

Referring to both of them collectively as ‘sirs’ was an old habit, one the visitor had long since fallen out of practice using. After all, in her reality, she was first officer to Enalia Telvan, and she wouldn’t call Enalia ‘sir’ on a bet. But it had the desired effect- the familiarity of the request made Stuart smirk, and he looked to Sonak.

“The logic inherent in the statement is sound, Captain,” Sonak intoned calmly, as he always did. His steel grey eyes bored into the blue eyes of the visitor, the same blue eyes that he knew so well. “I would be immediately aware of any danger, and we would be right outside, ergo close enough to immediately affect the situation. I see no reason not to humor the request, assuming Commander Paris is in agreement.”

While the local Rita Paris looked less than pleased at the suggestion, she nodded her acquiescence. As the two ranking officers left the room, the door slid shut behind them, and immediately Rita Paris was on her feet behind her desk.

“Okay, look, you. I don’’t know what your Sonak is like, but this one is.... with me,” she explained, stumbling as she tried to put into words her feelings, and frame them in a logical framework. Years of life with a Kolinahr meant that if your argument was solely emotional, then it wasn’t going to get very far with the the last Master of Gol.

“We’re not married yet, because we still serve together, but we have plans after the five year mission. Wherever you come from, whatever your deal is, I don’t want some impression of you that’s too much like me haunting my Sonak’s mind for the rest of our lives. I mean, you know how this works. You wanna pop in and tell us your fantastical story, fine. But leaving a lasting impression in the mind of the last Kolinahr... that’s just unacceptable. I can’t tell Sonak whom to meld with and whom not, but, really... put yourself in my boots, Rita.”

“I get it,” Rita replied. “I want you to have that future, Rita. I genuinely, truly do. Being here, seeing the old girl, seeing Michael again... we were happy here. It wasn’t the best assignment, but we were a good team, the three of us. I miss Michael... in the reality I ended up in, time and events flowed differently, and... he died with the crew above Omega IV, and the Exeter was scrapped.”

“That’s... part of it, but... Rita, look,” the extradimensional explorer levelled with herself. “This is a pocket universe, cause by Spock’s time travel along with Nero’s. The thing is, it’s NOT sustainable. You have maybe a dozen years at best, from Sonak’s calculations, assuming they hold true here, which, I’ll trust Sonak’s math in any universe,” Rita admitted, as they both chuckled in unison. “I need for him to know what I know, because he’ll listen to himself. I mean, not that he DOESN’T listen to us, but... you get it.”

“I don’t want to ruin your life, Rita, and I swear I am not here to interfere in your relationship. I know what you want... I want the same things too, remember?” Her expression softening, Rita admitted it aloud.

“I want a home, I want to raise a family, I want to see our kids off to the stars and make sure the tradition continues- there’s been a Paris in Starfleet since before it WAS Starfleet. I know you want that, as much as you want to be out here exploring, and the closer you get to the end of the five year mission the more you are planning it out. Convince Sonak to take a teaching position at the Academy, join him there when the kids are old enough, and shape the minds and ideals of the next generation. I understand, Rita. I really, truly do.”

“There is no way in this or any other universe I would mess that up for you. But I think you might have to alter your plans a bit if the universe is collapsing and you’re all doomed. So, how about it? Mind if I convince your man to believe what I’m telling you, so you can start to take action before there is no future left to look forward to?” It was a gamble, but Rita know exactly what to say to motivate herself. Which the other Rita knew, of course. And in truth, jealousy was what she was feeling, she recognized. Safe and secure as she was that Sonak was with her for a great many reasons, the appearance of ANOTHER Rita Paris had thrown her off a little. Having her ask to bond with the love of her life had made her paranoid and territorial, and she recognized it.

After all, here, they were not wed. While the bond they shared was more intimate than any legal formality, in the heart of Rita Paris, it made a considerable difference.

“Okay... alright. Fine. But just the relevant information, understood? No messing around with how your Sonak does things or comparing lives. I’d like as little of you in there to be confusing as possible,” the 2270 model muttered, even as the visitor shook her head.

“You know Sonak and how he works. He can compartmentalize my katra that he carries, as he does with almost anyone. When was the last time you ran into Ronald Tracey in there, right?” Rita pointed out, as Sonak had indeed mind melded with the insane captain, and carried a Talosian in his mind for his troubles. Neither of which were presences she had ever encountered in years of telepathic contact with her logical mate. His mind was vast and enormous, and he controlled her access to what she was exposed to within it. So intellectually, she knew all of this to be fact, even if emotionally she still didn’t like it.

But then, how many women had to deal with themselves as potential competition?

“I promise, I will keep it to just the facts. Beyond that, it’s Sonak, Rita. Really.” Offering a dubious expression, Rita inclined her head at her other self. “You know better, Rita. Calm down, okay? I get it, I do. But I swear... I’m here to help.”

It was the line Rita generally defaulted to on away missions- ‘I’m Commander Rita Paris, Starfleet. We’re here to help’ was a standard in her lexicon, and using it here reinforced to the other woman that while clearly there were differences, it was obvious both women were cut from the same cloth.

Tabbing the control on her desk, Rita activated the comm panel outside her door. “Were done, sirs- please rejoin us.”

As the door slid open, Sonak’s hands were before him, his fingers steepled together. It was a customary pose of concentration that he often adopted prior to melding with another mind, and seeing it, on the hands of Sonak in his old classic uniform, still brought a smile to Rita’s face. Realizing her counterpart was glaring at her a little, Rita toned it down, and addressed the situation.

“If you are willing, Commander, Sonak had all of the relevant calculations and facts, so that you’ll be able to draw your own conclusions. This should be much more efficient than me trying to walk through the equations... plus I don’t know how much time I have left before I leap out of this reality,” Rita admitted. “I’ve somewhat lost track of time, but I think I should have about two hours here.”

“At present, you have existed in this reality for ninety seven minutes and forty-two seconds,” Sonak responded, offering the facts when estimations were bandied about. Some things seldom changed, and this was a constant of the universe that never failed to please Rita.

It seemed Sonak was consistent in most realities, which Rita found to be greatly reassuring.

“You’re sure about this, Sonak?” Captain Stuart asked, concern in his tone. “We could always just stun her and you could read her mind then, if it would be safer?”

As Sonak explained how that was not actually the best course of action, Rita smiled and waited for the familiar scene to play out. The hotheaded captain wanting to cross the line, the logical, calm first explaining why not, then the impassioned pleas from the second to convince him to embrace his better nature.

It was a familiar dance, and one she could wax nostalgic over, while realizing that she didn’t much miss it. Enalia may not have known how to be Starfleet all that well, and she had her frustrating moments. But she was never blinded by anger like Stuart, nor was she rash and impulsive. If anything Enalia was far more careful with her ship and crew, determined to protect them at all costs- even her own life. It was something Rita deeply respected about the woman.

In the here and now, seeing Michael again and seeing those patterns, she realized why she had never compared the two Captains., because they were as different as night and day. Captain Stuart needed Paris to calm his rage and keep him on the side of the angels. Captain Telvan needed Rita for diplomacy, and to do things the Starfleet way.

Lessons on compassion for her crew and others was a lecture Rita had never needed to have with the Trill pirate queen turned starship captain. In that moment she made that realization, in comparing the styles of her two most recent commanding officers. She’d have to pour Enalia a drink when she got home, and talk with her about it.

When she got home, not ‘if’.

Because this was the multiverse, challenging Rita Paris to survive. It was a challenge she often faced, and she was still standing. When this was all over, she was determined that would be the case. She would make it home, safely, to return to the ship and crew that were her home, and to the logical man who was the center of her universe. In the challenge of Rita Paris vs Death, she’d been knocked down a few times, but she hadn’t lost yet, and she didn’t intend to start now.

For now, Sonak was prepared, and she stood to face him, as it would be easier. Placing his fingers at her temples, he did not speak the familiar mantra of the telepathic Vulcans. It was a ritual he had never needed to initiate contact, and he tended to dispose of them when dealing with a mind perceptive to his contact.

What followed was a very quiet thirty-three seconds as Sonak raced through the information in Rita’s mind, reviewing the relevant data, correlating it, verifying it, crossreferencing it, and ensuring that what he was encountering was in no way inauthentic nor manufactured. Memories could be implanted, but making life experiences realistic to telepathic inspection meant connecting those memories to dozens of others, a laborious process. One with which Sonak was quite well versed to recognize, and in this case, he ended the contact, then addressed his shipmates.

“Mrs. Paris is correct. This reality is indeed a bubble, and it will collapse, according to my calculations, in nine point oh three seven standard galactic years. However, it seems she has a potential plan to relay.” While of course he knew the plan, having seen it in her mind as it was in the forefront as he scanned her.

As usual, he left the floor to the emotional executive, as he never took credit for her work or ideas.

Another thing that made him the perfect man in the eyes of Rita Paris.

“I don’t think you can save the universe... since it’s an anomaly, wedding it to a stronger timeline or perhaps phase shifting it seems highly unrealistic. But you do have nine years to work on it, so maybe that fact will change. But for all of you, at least, I do have one potential out. Rita, bring up a chart of the Alpha quadrant, would you please?” While she wasn’t entirely sure where her counterpart was going, Rita shuffled through a stack of flimsies on her desk and produced the requested map. Glancing it over, Rita shook her head. “Wow... lot more crowded in the future.”

“So here,” Rita pointed to an empty spot on the map. “There’s a star called B’hava’el, and the seventh planet that orbits it is called Bajor. Near Bajor is a wormhole that’s triggered by proximity- you can choose to enter it, and it will deposit you in the Gamma quadrant. One of the only stable wormholes in the known universe. The local worship it, and the beings who reside within it. They call it the ‘Celestial Temple’, and the beings who dwell within the wormhole itself, ‘the Prophets.”

“I’ve met them- the Prophets, or Wormhole Aliens, or whatever you wish to call them, because frankly, they don’t care. They exist outside of spacetime, so their perceptions are very different than ours, as are their sensibilities. It’s theorized that they exist in all alternate dimensions simultaneously, so maybe that’s why encounters with them seem so strange to us mere mortals. The first time I met them, they handed off a refugee from the mirror of my universe- my original universe, like this one,” Rita qualified. “So that demonstrated to me that they are multidimensional, and they can act as well as observe.”

“If you can’t find another solution, and you can’t save this reality, that’s my advice- head to Bajor, hit the Wormhole and seek an audience. Because they aren’t the best hope you’ve got, but they may be your court of last resort, if all else fails.” It was meddling with other realities, and in theory one day there might be a Dimensional Prime Directive. But in the here and now, Rita only knew that were she in their position, she would want to be told, so that she could take action, formulate a plan, try something to save the universe... or at the very least, the two men most dear in the universe to her.

Listening to the debate, that ensued, the exchange of ideas, Rita sat quietly and listened to the three of them bat their ideas around, discussing, strategizing, considering. It was, again, a familiar pattern to her that she appreciated. One that was now permanently in her past, as was the USS Exeter.

Current circumstances notwithstanding.

When the tell-tale tingle of the particle’s half-life decay made themselves known within her, Rita considered saying her goodbyes. Other Rita would get over her jealousy and chastise herself about it, even as Sonak explained it was a reasonably emotional reaction. Stuart would write it up in his logs as yet another bit of weirdness that Rita seemed to attract, but at least this one seemed benign. But saying goodbye to Michael Stuart was something Rita had done two years ago now. Seeing him here, as she remembered him, she was glad for the opportunity.

Instead of saying good-bye, she silently disappeared. Because in the end, she couldn’t find it in her heart to say goodbye to her friend Michael Stuart one last time... this time, forever.