Experimental Phase

Posted on Wed Sep 5th, 2018 @ 11:00pm by Commander Rita Paris & Petty Officer 2nd Class Ila Dedjoy

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck
Timeline: 2395

With the conclusion of shore leave rapidly approaching, Rita Paris figured it was time to check in with the resident out-of-the-box scientist who was working on sending her communicator home, to see how things were progressing. Tapping the comm badge on her left breast which reproduced the antique Starfleet command insignia that her uniform bore, it chirruped cheerfully.

“Computer, please locate Crewman Dedjoy for me?” she asked the computer politely, as the anachronistic astronaut always did. Given that the ship’s computer was far smarter than she was and controlled practically everything onboard the starship, Rita gave it the deference that she would give any crew member. It might seem odd to the locals, but to Rita the ship was just another member of the crew. One that could decide to open an airlock and vent you to space. So buttering it up a little certainly wouldn’t hurt.

"Crewman Dedjoy is currently in the quantum miniaturization lab on E deck," replied the computer. "She is currently in a secure facility and unable to receive outside communication. Would you like me to relay a message for you?"

“We have a quantum miniaturization lab in the pod? Will wonders never cease,” Paris muttered to herself. “Yes please, computer. Relay to her that Lieutenant Paris would like to speak to her when she comes to a juncture in her work where she can afford an interruption, thank you.” Years of dating a scientist had taught Rita that you didn’t interrupt miracle workers, or you got lousy miracles.

"Sending message now." The computer chirruped a few times and went silent after a brief pause, it relayed a message back. "Reply is as follows. She will be available in about ten minutes if you'd like to join her in the pod."

“Always a pleasure to work with professionals. Thank you, computer. Please identify Crewman Dedjoy’s most often ordered meal?” Rita asked as she headed for the aft turbolift that granted access to the intel pod where the majority of the mad science of the Hera seemed to take place.

With a pleasant chirrup the computer complied. "Terran feline supplement forty seven and a side of miso soup and vegetable crackers is the most often requested meal by Crewman Dedjoy from her quarters. While eating with others, she often orders a Bolian tuna pate and vegetable cracker meal with miso soup."

“Thank you computer- glad I asked. Please identify the nearest public replicator I can access on my way to the quantum miniaturization lab on deck E, and replicate the Bolian tuna pate meal in that location,” Paris asked the computer as she stepped out of the turbolift on Deck E, checking her PaDD for directions to the lab.

"You're welcome. The nearest replicator is in lounge E-1 just ahead and to your left. The meal will be ready upon your arrival. Would you like a vegetarian option prepared as well?" The computer was a bit more compliant than usual and almost seemed to have a hint more than the normal emotionless tones to her reply this time.

As the computer solicitously offered, Rita’s stomach growled in response. As a workaholic herself, she was also prone to skipping meals. And it would likely be awkward for Dedjoy to eat with her just watching, she realized. “Good idea, computer. Please add an Andorian southern glacier salad, but with raspberry pecan dressing and add garlic Parmesan croutons. Thank you!” The lost navigator added cheerfully as she followed the computer’s directions to the lounge.

"Any time, Lieutenant Commander Paris," replied the computer, letting slip something the Captain was currently working on which slipped right past Rita. After all, she was accustomed to being addressed by the rank she’d held for the past three years before the Hera. Seldom did she identify herself by rank on the Hera, instead introducing herself by name only.

The pod was definitely from a different ship, as the walls were detailed not in the beige and gold of the rest of the ship, nor in the creams of the newer parts, but in silver, metallic white, and Federation blue. If Rita had seen the rest of the ship as a grim version of her future, this was downright dystopian sterile in many ways. On the flip side, the lounge looked like it had been transplanted from an NX class, but with modern amenities like replicators and holographic displays that were currently set to display the forward view of the ship as seen from the pod sensor arrays on one side, and open space on the other. The top of the saucer and the fortress was being passively scanned and several readouts were showing on the displays.

The Constitution-class chrononaut paused to take in the rather spectacular vista, a unique perspective on a starship. While she had seen plenty of locales inside the starship, actually seeing a real-time view of the broad, wide saucer section from above stopped the sailor of the stars in her tracks. Stepping to the fore, she felt that odd connection she made with starships. Her entire life had been spent trying to get assigned to one, literally a part of them, or serving on them. As a pilot she felt a kinship, a bond with the vessels she flew to accomplish the impossible. As she stared out the holographic representation of a viewport, Rita Paris felt that familiar stirring in her heart.

While she was so very much bigger than the anachronistic astronaut was accustomed to, and configured so very differently, the Hera was a beautiful starship design. It was striking to her eye that the hull was so dark- a purple-green dark pearlescence, far from the duranium dove grey hulls of the starships of her era. To Rita's eye it looked like a negative image of the starships of her day- another score for the dark side, it seemed. Rita was sure the reason wasn't so the ship was practically impossible to spot, clearly it was because to full spectrum lighting it glowed like a choir of angels.

Beyond her coloration, she had bold, graceful lines, yet clearly the underlying engineering was sturdy, with so many lights and that groove running ... Is that a track all the way round the saucer for the phasers? There's probably another one underneath- that's brilliant! Rita had forced herself not to review the ship's armory since the flight control no longer manned the shields and ship's weaponry, and it would make her sad to know what she was missing out on. The letters stamped on the hull proudly declared her to the universe in the surprisingly narrow patch of triangular light on her hull that was apparently the only light on out there. Still, Rita reached one hand up to touch the transparent aluminum that wasn’t there, but the bulkhead served in its stead, the hologram serving the same purpose.

It hadn’t taken long, but Rita Paris had fallen in love again.

“Hello, big girl,” the pretty pilot muttered to herself. “Ain’t you just a black beauty?”

Ila had come in while Rita was entranced and stepped up next to her. "She really is, isn't she? I was going to go for a walk outside later, if you'd like to join me."

Paris jumped a bit at the unexpected sound of the voice of her shipmate, but recovered quickly. “That she is,” Rita said wistfully as she nodded. “And if you’re talking outer hull EVA, I would absolutely love to. There’s something about seeing her from the outside like that... because she’s like a city in space, it’s easy to forget that she’s a starship. But standing on the hull, you realize how tiny and vulnerable we really are, and how she protects us from the void.”

Turning with a rueful smile, the poetic pilot chuckled. “Sorry, I probably sound a little crazy, I know. I just... I love starships. Have for as long as I can remember. On the Constitution, I used to sit on the hull, forward of the bridge and just watch the stars slide by. It was the only good part of that assignment.”

Ila chuckled softly. "Ah, no, I know what you mean. I'm originally a geologist by trade - it's how I earned my name - but seeing a ship like this from the outside... There's just something about it. My last command, we had an android that would go outside without an EV suit now and then just to see it crystal clear without the helmet. I think it was sort of a religious experience for her."

“It really is,” the former ghost agreed, her mind wandering back to those memories.

Ila then turned towards the replicators, her large doll-like eyes dilating. "Is that tuna I smell?"

“Yes!” Rita snapped to, returning to the moment and why she had chased the science crewman down in the first place. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you with the big experiment of sending my communicator back along my chronodimensional trajectory. And since I used to... date a scientist, I know you technical types tend to get caught up in your work and forget to eat. So, we multitask!” Rita gestured to one of the tables, and moved to retrieve the trays from the replicator, which were exactly what she’d ordered, of course.

"I knew I forgot something..." Ila replied as she took a seat, realizing that the meal was the one she normally ate in public. "Ah, the computer told you what I eat?" she asked, pausing with her large unblinking eyes fixed on Rita.

“Well, yeah... to be fair, I asked.” The statuesque spacegirl shrugged slightly as she set the trays on the table. “I don’t know you at all, and I didn’t want to interrupt you and nag you to eat, then bring you something you couldn’t eat. That would be doubly rude. I hope you don’t mind?” Paris asked as she sat down, smoothing her skirt beneath her as she did, an unconscious habit from a lifetime in skirts.

"Ah... Ok... Did it mention... No, nevermind. Thank you." Ila didn't want to know anyway. She just picked up her fork and started smearing the pate on one of the crackers. "Sorry, I'm normally a private person so I don't often dine with others. Would you rather engage in interpersonal conversation or discuss the trans-chrono-dimensional displacement of your communicator?"

“Oh! I apologize, I didn’t mean to be invasive or rude,” Paris backpedalled. “I could come back when you’re done. I don’t- I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about you or your race, and I meant no disrespect.”

"No, please, eat with me. I'm not Kreetassan - I'm not easily offended. In fact, I enjoy experiencing new things." Ila insisted Rita stay. "As for knowing me and my race, this is a good time to learn. I'd like to learn about you as well."

While she didn’t know what a Kreetassan was, Paris took Dedjoy at face value and stayed put, picking up her fork and poking at her salad. “Well, okay. I’m Rita Paris. You kind of reconstituted me when I got here- thank you very much for saving my life, by the way. So you know all about me and my time and transporter troubles. I’m a human- just the plain garden variety version, from Earth, the homeworld of my people. Home of Starfleet Command and Starfleet Academy? I grew up in San Francisco and I’m a legacy- there’s been a Paris in Starfleet since the beginning of Starfleet. So how about you?” Rita speared some salad and starts eating ship she listened. Does she never blink? the golden girl wondered.

The doll faced woman slowly blinked both sets of eyelids as she digested this information, chewing on one of her pate coated crackers. "I'm sorry, I've met very few humans, so I have little basis of comparison. As for me, my people live normal, often inherited lives. We have to do something out of the ordinary to earn a given name. I come from a long line of Dedjoy farmer's wives so I decided to break with tradition and join Starfleet as a geologist. I earned the name Ila during a geological survey when we discovered a new form of black crystal that's now being experimented with in data storage. I'm now being cross utilized as the Captain's personal researcher for everything in the pod, and I report to Science and Intel."

“That's impressive for a geologist,” Paris exclaimed. Stopping to consider, she honestly hadn’t realized how cosmopolitan the universe had become, where the human girl was an exotic unknown commodity on a Federation starship. She paused for a few, poking at her salad before laughing musically. “I just spent a moment trying to figure out how to describe humanity, but I found myself at a bit of a loss. No first contact missions for me until I figure out how to describe my species and culture beyond the mission of Starfleet and the UFP,” Rita admitted. “How about you, what planet are you from? What’s your race?”

"I'm Illaran." Ila stated simply as if it were a matter of course. "Ah... Umm... The planet is Ilara. I was named after it because my discovery is one that we hope brings more peace to the galaxy and as a generally pacifist people, it's a great honor." Giggling softly, Ila couldn't help but think about something else. "Though the last time I played music, I was accused of violently assaulting someone's senses."

“You are a musician? What do you play?” Rita inquired, stuffing another bite of salad into her mouth and crunching into a couple of croutons. Internally she resolved to at least look up Illarans after this.

"The mortepuss*," Ila replied, munching on another pate coated cracker. "It's..." She pulled a PaDD out of her pocket and tapped at it for a few moments to pull up a picture and a description that Rita could relate to. "I'm quite good at it."

Chewing slowly as she contemplated what that might sound like, Paris nodded. Swallowing, she changed course. “So about this transdimensional chronal displacement experiment of yours...?” she asked, hoping the humor would carry it.

"Yes..." Ila cleared her mouth with a sip of her soup. "The specialized transporter, in theory, could transport the entire ship to your time and dimension. However there are a few parts from the original system missing - we don't have the power matrix, the particle generator, or the protection system. As it stands, with the nav guide, I think I could send as much as half a person to your dimension safely. Three people anywhere in ours. If I tried sending the whole ship without the protection system, the whole crew would turn into inverted chunky salsa as we passed through the plane of the fifth dimension."

The horrified helmsman slowly stopped chewing as the geologist explained, remembering what had happened to the Sonak of this reality. Swallowing with effort, she slid her mostly uneaten salad to the side. “Okay, so check, we don’t want to use it on anything big. But good to know what it can do for future reference. Early on the captain mentioned something about a power requirement? We’ll be tapping the fortress’ power supply to augment the Hera’s?”

"Right. The power systems on the Hera aren't right for the particle generator we do have, so it takes ages to produce enough to transport three people a short distance. The systems on the fortress, however, are close enough to what we need, so I've adapted them. In the two weeks we're here, we'll have a full supply of particles, and we'll have no problem transporting your communicator from that angle. We'll also need to power the system for an extended amount of time, which is where the power requirement comes in. In universe without jumping time, the transport is instant. Crossing thresholds takes more time as we navigate further from our current chrono-dimensional position. It will take about thirteen times as much antimatter as we carry aboard the Hera and about seven minutes. That power requirement seems to be almost the same, whether we send a communicator or a shuttle though." Ila poked another pate cracker into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, not really realizing that she'd been expositing so much. She was lost in thought on the matter, running through the numbers once again in her head, her eyes almost glazed over in concentration as she slowly ate.

“Wait, if you could send a shuttle, then...” Paris spoke up enthusiastically, then she recalls the earlier point. “Oh, right. Safely send half a person. The rest would be... not safe. Right.” The extradimensional explorer folded her hands on the table before her and tried unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment, which just demonstrated how easy it was to get her hopes up. Instead, as per usual, she changed course. “So when do we make the attempt?”

"We'll have enough particles built up in another hour." Ila looked over at Rita again and smiled with her porcelain doll mouth. An act that she was obviously unskilled at but attempted for Rita's sake. "Don't worry, I'll be able to monitor the other end and make sure it all goes well. You have a message recorded already?"

“I... I don’t. I’ve been thinking of what to say. It’ll be... I mean, it is my final report to my old command, and it’s... I have to say goodbye to my captain and ask for a transfer, but I have to say goodbye to my One. We were... together, you know? I don't know what mating is like where you come from, but he was...” Paris struggled to contain her emotions and was determined not to cry. “He was kind of the center of my life. He was the one who beamed me out, and at least he’ll know that I’m not dead, that the transporter accident didn't kill me. And he’ll know where and when I am.”’ Paris looked up to the large-eyed alien woman, her own eyes pleading.

“We can give him accurate coordinates, right? I mean, if he knows where to find me, then... then there’s a chance, right?” There was a pleading note to the woman’s voice that sounded to Ila’s ear almost exactly the same as the night she had arrived, when she had asked if the experimental Section 31 transporter could send her home. It carried within it yearning, heartbreak and homesickness the likes of which was usually heard from a lost child, not a Starfleet officer.

Ila leaned back in her chair and slid the rest of her meal aside as well. She knew that look well from the mirror. Her eyes softened as she spoke. "You remind me of when I lost my twin sister. I was transferred to the ship she was assigned on, to try and help her earn her name. But during that transfer, she was killed during an away mission. Shortly after that, the one that led the away mission and I were transferred to the Hera. I don't know what you should tell them... But the things I wish I could tell my sister..." She stared down at the table for a few before looking back up at Rita. "I'll make sure our location is embedded, but it'll be up to them to make anything of it."

As usual, she didn’t know if she was violating a cultural taboo, but Rita reached a hand across the table to take Dedjoy’s pale hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry to hear about your sister. I can’t imagine what that was like for you.” Pausing to collect herself, the gold-clad cosmonaut of another age inhaled sharply. “I’ll make it a good message, I promise. You just give them the chronospatial coordinates. Sonak will come for me if he has even a clue of where I am, and that I’m alive. If it's possible...” Paris didn’t necessarily sound convinced so much as hopeful.

Ila squeezed back gingerly. It was a foreign but not unwelcome touch - one that she had not felt in a long time, and was similar to her sister's. "Thank you. I hope your Sonak does figure out where you are, for your sake.”

“Yeah,” Paris choked out, then her brows furrowed and her lips curled inward as she steeled herself. “Well. I should get to, ah, recording that message and find a tag for it, maybe engrave the back of it so they’ll take it seriously, or in case it lands a bit off target. Not questioning your skills,” the anachronistic astronaut added with a squeeze of Dedjoy’s hand before releasing it. “I just have an innate distrust of transporters. You understand.”

Dedjoy nodded. "I think after what you've been through, anyone would be. Good luck, Ma'am. If you need any help, I'll probably be somewhere on this deck for a few days."

"Oh... wait, I thought you said you would be ready in an hour, did I misunderstand?" Paris rolled her eyes and sighed, then hung her head.

"Oh no, I'll be ready. I just practically live up here now." The doll faced woman chuckled softly as she reached out and rubbed Rita's shoulder lightly.

"Then let's do this. I'll get my report recorded and the communicator prepped while you gather particles. Is this dangerous? Do we need authorization or supervision from a superior officer here for this? And do we have an LZ prepared if the Exeter sends a rescue party?" There was a plan, and there were steps that occurred to her to help make that plan happen. And in that moment Rita Paris came alive, and suddenly started sounding a whole lot more like a Starfleet officer.

Ila nodded, having planned for at least part of this. "I'll be monitoring their timestream for a while so I should know if there's a breach of the dimensional barrier. I've run everything I can think of and the system ran some things I didn't, so it should all be safe enough. As for an LZ, that's the chrono-dimensional coordinates in general. The specific point in space is a bit trickier and is up to them, though with any luck they'll be on the Hera at least."

"Navigational coordinates I can supply, that part's easy," Paris responded. "All right Ms. Dedjoy- let's make some science. Mess with the timeline, just not local history, but the history of a timeline created when it was interfered with from this reality- theoretically?" The blonde bombardier shook her head. "I don't know and we don't have to care. This is a joint Starfleet exercise, authorized communication between Starfleet vessels. Let's change history!"

"Actually, the incursion was from timeline gamma two nine alpha according to the system... We're gamma two nine theta. But yes, a lot of things went wrong with the timeline centered around the destruction of Hobus. That's when your subset of timelines and dimensions was created I think, which is how you ended up in our timeline rather than your own. Our timelines and universe subsets are intertwined." Standing, Dedjoy made a fist and shook it in the air. "And for science we're going to do some meizengatz and see what happens."

“Okay, now normally this is where I just shake my head and nod along because I’m lost,” Paris countered. "But in this case, the Hobus supernova theoretically happened in 2387- timelines diverging from there we would barely have encountered at this point in history. Spock, Nero and the Nerada traveled back to 2233 to encounter the Kelvin, and that seems to be where the split in the timelines which created alternate parallels… right?” She might never have taken a quantum temporal mechanics class, but Paris knew her own timeline’s history, and some of the classified details that she’d had time to compare to the timeline in which she currently dwelled.

Ila calmed back down and nodded. "The Hobus system did have issues and Ambassador Spock did go to prevent a supernova... The rest of what happened is very classified though. I suspect that ours is a modified version of the original timeline as Ambassador Spock, his ship, the Nerada, and their crew are all missing and the Hobus system is now off limits. Plus the nav system shows several temporal anomalies in that area and a couple others, including one some days ago around a small yellow star that I can't determine the purpose of."

"Mysteries of the multiverse, Miss Dedjoy. While I'd love to go home, I don't know if poking around the nexus point of a number of divergent realities is a good idea. See, I say that now, and six months from now look where I'm steering the ship, yay." Paris raised her hands and waved them in mock celebration. "All right Miss Dedjoy. I've enjoyed getting to know you. I've missed hanging out with scientists. I vastly appreciate the trick you are going to pull with spacetime, but I need a few moments alone to compose my thoughts and record my message, if you don't mind?"

"Indeed, I'll be in the labs if you need me. This break room should be empty all day if you want to use it. If you'll excuse me, ma'am." With a nod, Ila turned and took her tray back to the replicator before heading back out to continue working on whatever she was before.

----------

An hour later, the comm in the lab chirruped. "Incoming message from Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris. I am ready if you are."

"Ah, yes, I'm ready as well. Meet me at the S31 transporter. I'll be right there." Ila had just finished with her current round of samples so she locked up the lab systems and headed out as well.

As the extradimensional explorer approached the door of the experimental Section 31 transporter, she remembered the night a few months earlier. When the device behind it had reassembled her soon after her arrival on the USS Hera. The one with one shiny red button on the console. Rita's mouth was dry, her hands were clammy and sweaty as she clutched her old school communicator.

The neurotic navigator began to pace outside the door. Partially because she was walking away from it, then forcing herself to go back. The brassy blonde bombshell's heart was hammering in her chest- recording her message had gotten her all churned up inside, and she would swear she could feel the damned thing in there. Every time she got close to the door, the hairs on her arm began to rise, as if leaning toward the device.

"I hate transporters!" she hissed, trying to shake it off.

Ila just barely caught that as she rounded the corridor. "That's fine, because this is more of a translocation device using interspatial tubes between dimensions." Aligning herself with the door, she punched in the access code, unlocking it so it would open. She then motioned for Rita to enter. "And I promise you're not going to be translocated."

"Easy for you to say," Paris muttered. "Okay, so, I put a tag on it for external instructions and I pulled the main battery. The backup battery will hold the message and the coordinates for like a year, so that removed the bulk of the weight. I figured that would help?"

"Hmm... I'll have to run a few calculations again, but it might. I have the coordinates from the Captain as well. It'll only take a moment to tack them on." Since Rita wasn't making any motions to enter first, Ila decided to go inside the sterile white room first instead. She headed to the main console and popped open the set of tools, pulling out a data spanner and testing it with a click. "Computer, rerun simulation seventy nine beta three. Remove main battery from simulation."

A deep male British computer voice spoke, unlike the main computer's across the rest of the ship. "Running. Systems check nominal. Standby."

"Ooh! Is that the AI for this system?" Rita asked, poking slowly into the room, somewhat distracted by the computer voice, still clutching her communicator tightly.

"Yeah, the pod labs have their own separate computer systems. He's a bit much at times but..." Ila was interrupted by the report from the computer.

"Simulation complete. Probability of success is now ninety seven point three percent. Estimated time of translocation is six minutes forty seconds. Particle consumption differential marginal." It then paused for a moment. "I do my best to anticipate the needs of those in the labs I'm designed to oversee, just as I'm programmed. If you have issue with that, I suggest you reprogram me."

"Yeah... The main ship's computer is a VI... Virtual Intelligence. This one is an actual AI..." Ila added, her unblinking eyes fixed on Rita and her empty hand stretched out for the communicator. "Your comm unit please?"

The old black and gold clamshell communicator was a link to the time-tossed officer's past, one of the only things that had made it through with her. She hadn't fed it to the replicator like her uniform- this was the original, the one and only. And now she was going to try skipping it like a stone between time and dimensions to arrive where she was supposed to have landed, according to the information contained and interpreted from her beam.

"Report in for me one more time, okay?" Rita choked out as she kissed the communicator. Seeing Dejoy eyeing her, she shrugged as she handed it over. "For luck."

Ila reached into her pocket, pulled out a smooth stone, kissed it, and set it on the work surface. "For luck."

Then the computer chimed in again, unbidden. "I'm all the luck you need, ladies."

Ila rolled her eyes so hard, it looked like they were going to pop out of her head. She then set about installing the temporal and dimensional quantum coordinates just as Enalia had instructed her to. "And there. That should do it."

"What's your name, lucky fella?" Rita asked the ceiling.

"My designation is XJX-233A. May I ask what your name is?" the computer replied.

"Of course. I'm Lieutenant Rita Paris, the chief helmsman of the starship Hera," the polite pilot introduced herself. "I think I'm going to call you 'Lucky'- is that okay with you?"

"That designation is acceptable. Thank you, Rita Paris." The computer sounded almost suave as he was speaking now.

"Forever more... He'll be even more incorrigible now..." Ila set the communicator inside the transport booth and sealed it inside before heading back to the control systems. "Let's see if we can work some magic then. Computer, start the nav sequence."

The computer snapped back to systems mode instantly. "Running. Systems check nominal. Nav system connected. Fifth dimensional path encapsulated. Resolution at one hundred seventeen percent. Ready for injection."

Ila stepped back and motioned towards the big red button. "Would you care to do the honors, Ma'am?"

"C'mon, how about it, universe..." Rita Paris placed her hands over one another on the shiny red button, closing her eyes and gnawing at her lower lip. "How about you give me a break just once."

With that, Paris jammed the button down and cracked open an eye warily and nervously.

The chamber filled with particles and turned a shimmering, sparkling mess right before a flash of light and it was all gone. No particles and no communicator. The computer then reported. "Translocation transmission success. Please stand by for end result report in six minutes thirty seconds."

Ila was busy tapping up readouts on the monitors on the wall panels behind them. One already had hazy images of the transporter room of the Exeter and another had a sort of organic looking series of interspatial tubes with a bright point on one of them moving along it. That tube was also highlighted. "The first simulation was off by a few months, but the last few worked out to within a few minutes and a few inches above the transport platform. With any luck at all..."

The small communicator appeared on the transporter, and the image winked out. Paris looked up to make eye contact with Dedjoy, and she broke out in a ragged smile. "So, that was that. Now I see if anybody shows up."

"Translocation successful to within nine nine point nine nine seven percent tolerances. Particle supply depleted," the computer reported.

"If you want to stick around for a while, I'll need to write up a report for the Captain." Ila pulled a PaDD out of her pocket and held it up. "I'm sure she'll want to know that things went just how she expected them to."

"Yes... if you don't mind, I'd like to wait and.... y'know, see if anyone shows up." It sounded ridiculous to her even as she said it, but Rita couldn't help it. She just knew someone was going to show up. "Say, Crewman Dedjoy?"

"Yeah?" Ila responded, half-turning.

"Thank you. You saved my life, when you put me back together. This was probably just me sending my final report to my old command, but... it means at the very least that my guy will know he didn't kill me. If that's all it does, that would be a lot. And they might just surprise us and come after me... right?" There was a pleading note in that last statement that begged for the displaced damsel not to be contradicted.

"Ma'am, I..." Ila stared for what seemed a full minute, not sure what to say before looking down at her PaDD with a frown and a blink. "Times like this I almost wish I had stayed a rock farmer..." She then took a deep breath and moved in close to Rita, giving her an awkward hug. "Please accept this generic comforting in place of me not knowing what to say. There there. Everything will be okay."

“Thank you," Paris returned the hug with a few pats on the back, actually reassured by it before releasing Ila. "Please extend my thanks to the captain in your report, Crewman Dedjoy. You did some fine science here today, for science's sake." Rita somehow doubted her ancient native pop culture reference would score with the alien from another world and culture, but she resolved to have Dedjoy over for movie night to see Lost Skeleton of Cadavra. Then she resolved to start having a movie night and inviting people to see the classic tales of her world.

By the time she looked up, Crewman Dedjoy and her lucky rock, which had worked quite well, were gone. Rita began to pace as she waited.

Minutes became an hour. One hour became two. Hours slipped by as Paris waited, determined to be there when her rescue arrived, or a return message or... something. Something would happen.

At the twelve hour mark, the AI she had nicknamed 'Lucky' recommended that she return to quarters and get some food and rest, but she refused. Someone would come. Something would happen. They knew where she was now, so they could find her.

Sonak would come for her, she knew it. He wouldn't let her down- he never had. He would find a way and he would come and bring her home, although in those hours alone waiting, she had time to review her life aboard the Hera, and it wasn't bad at all, she had to admit. Save for one small detail.

Still she missed her Vulcan, her rock, the center of her universe.

Her t'hy'la. Her One.


He would come for her.


* * * * * *

During the sixteenth hour, after the AI had been forced to wake her for the third time, Lucky convinced her that he would contact her immediately the moment any sort of contact was made if she would just return to her quarters and get some sleep. Reluctantly she complied, but only after making the AI promise, and insuring that the artificial intelligence understood that a promise to a shipmate was an unbreakable compact.

While Lucky remained vigilant, no contact was ever reported.







*Mortepuss - the bellows of bagpipes, controls of an accordion, and electronics of a theremin in one horrific nightmare of an instrument that sounds vaguely reminiscent of the death howls of a demon cat.