Transporters Don't Do That

Posted on Sun Oct 7th, 2018 @ 2:32am by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Asa Dael
Edited on on Thu Nov 22nd, 2018 @ 12:05pm

Mission: Hera v Hera
Location: USS Hera, Deck 6, Transporter Room 4
Timeline: 2395, en route to Meroset 347

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Rita Paris steeled herself before uttering the command, “Energize.”

Which was when things went a little haywire in Transporter Room 4.

In the second before the transport began, the buxom blonde bombshell shuffled a half-step away from the transporter pad. Then as the transporter began to cycle, she looked over her shoulder, then began leaning away from the transporter as she tried to gain traction on the deck. Pulling away, she defied gravity to begin sliding backward toward the beam, which was most definitely taking much longer to cycle than normal, the high-pitched twang drawing itself out. Those high-traction chunky-heeled explorer's boots were doing her no good as she struggled to move forward while sliding back toward the transporter pad, where the transporter effect was twinkling into view as if in slow motion.

On the electromagnetic spectrum level, the personal quantum field of the extradimensional explorer flared, then reached out to touch, then wind itself around the transporter beam, intertwining with it even as Paris physically struggled to distance herself from the source of said beam. Tears filled the eyes of the pretty pilot as she fought the pull of the transporter, hands reaching desperately for the transporter console. “No no no no no!”

Meanwhile Doctor Dael was staring open-mouth at the tricorder in front of them. Over 50% of the cells in Rita’s body had gone into some kind of fluctuation. Her electrons were all over the place, it seemed like small parts of her were being sucked into the transporter beam, in spite of all known laws of, well... everything. The anyon particles in Rita’s body were all but gone, and about a hundred other things were occurring that would need to be evaluated at a later time.

“Turn it off! Now!” Dael cried to the transporter chief urgently.

“I’m trying to cut the power, but it’s not responding!” Chief Fingerman reported, even as the block of material on the transporter pad began to dematerialize as if in slow motion. That was when particles of Rita Paris’ boots began to pixilate, as they too moved to join the transporter beam, despite being nearly a meter away from the pad. In desperation, eyes wide with panic, she reached for the blue-clad scientist who was ever her anchor.

“It’s gonna get me! SONAK!” the panicked pilot cried, even as the back of her uniform began losing molecular cohesion, the gold molecules drifting toward the transporter beam.

Asa watched in horror as the first officer began to disappear and pointed at her wrist, yelling at her “Press the activator! Quickly!”

Every instinct in Rita Paris' disintegrating body told her this was a terrible idea. But she was desperate- if it got her this time, who knew where she might end up, or when, or if she would ever reintegrate. For her, activating a transporter was an act of desperation at the best of times. In this moment, as one transporter was sucking her in, Rita was terrified of what havoc another interfering transporter might wreak. But it was Sonak's plan, and he knew what he was doing. Gritting her teeth, she slapped her left wrist with her right hand.

That was when the screaming began in earnest.

The unwitting cry of panic that rose in volume and intensity quickly escalated to become a shriek of terror and pain as the two transporters both struggled for possession of Rita Paris' material form. Each was attempting to convert her to energy as both systems tore at her on an atomic level. Immaterial, but not fully deconstructed from matter, there was enough time during the slowed transport process for Rita to finish screaming and gulp in another breath. Which then enabled her to continue wailing her banshee's lament to the universe which, phasing as she was, transformed her cry into a reverberating, haunting sound. The starship siren's screams echoed nightmarishly around the room as her hands clawed the air in agony. Then as the twinkling lights intensified, the form of the human astronaut was consumed by the conversion process.

When it faded, Rita Paris had entirely vanished.

All this time, throughout the ordeal, Sonak was like a marble statue; observing, noting and calculating everything that was occurring. When Rita vanished, he was the only one seemingly unconcerned by it, save for a definite frown most would have missed on his brow, but which was there nevertheless.

Then he moved.

With swift, precise, methodical movements that would have done any surgeon proud, he plugged his active tricorder into a slot waiting for it in the transporter console as he spoke.

"Doctor; please keep your tricorder active, and aimed at the transporter pad. Mister Fingerman; cross-circuit to A."

"Aye sir," the doctor replied with a reedy voice.

"Sir... I have no signal!"

Sonak's fingers were already flying across the controls on his side of the console. A series of lights blinked and as the console beeped, the eyes of the elderly transporter chief widened.

"Sir, I... I have one! But... but from where?"

"Mister Fingerman; cross-circuit to B."

Starfleet discipline took over, under the steady voice and calm demeanor of the Vulcan lieutenant, and the experienced enlisted man complied. There was the familiar sound of an annular confinement beam coalescing on the pad, accompanied by a swirl of colored lights which fluctuated and condensed over the transporter platform.

Then Rita Paris, whole and solid, bodily collapsed onto transporter pad 1.

"My God, we got her back!" Chief Fingerman exclaimed loudly with a sigh and a wide smile of relief.

"There is no need to shout, Chief; no deity was involved. It was your cross-circuiting to B, the Doctor's precise biodata stream and my tricorder lock on her portable transporter signal that enabled us to retrieve her."

But despite his apparent deadpan answer, Sonak was greatly relieved. Not only had the quantum signal been kept throughout the event, but his bond to her as well. As if in a mind meld, he had felt everything that she had felt during the ordeal. It had left a bit of her raw and powerful emotions still in his mind but more importantly, a mass of data and information no tricorder or sensor could ever had gathered.

But now was not the time for scientific analysis; now was the time to take care of her. Collapsed on the pad, Rita heaved in great lungfuls of air like a drowning victim who had broken the surface, which escaped from her as broken sobs. Despite herself, her hands grasped at her form as if to reassure herself that all of it had returned from the transport. Her heartrate was nearly triple its normal, her blood pressure was through the roof and the adrenaline count in her bloodstream was dangerously high as she looked around wild-eyed, clearly struggling to rise, trying to get away from the transporter.

"Hey, hey, there, no need to get up quite yet, let me take a look at you," the doctor cooed softly while approaching the collapsed XO. They could not put words to their terror at nearly losing her, nor the relief at getting her back.

Why did I ever suggest this? We almost lost her, how could I have been so foolish! the young doctor berated themself.

"Can you please flood the transporter room with anyon particles?" they asked the transporter chief, taking his assent as a granted and continuing towards the blonde figure on the transporter pad. While scanning Rita with one hand, the El-Aurian placed a hand lightly on her arm, over where she was holding herself together with her hands, as a way to ground her with skin-on-skin contact. Asa had long thought the value of skin on skin was vastly underappreciated by Starfleet. A sentiment that was clearly embraced by Paris, who grabbed the hand of the doctor with surprisingly adrenaline-fueled strength and clung to it like a lifeline.

The whirring of the tricorder stopped as Asa completed their readings, "She is whole and well, beyond the obvious trauma anxiety. I have data to evaluate at a later time, but for now, ma'am, can I help you stand up? Permission to hug?"

Between Sonak and Doctor Dael, the recently reassembled transporter accident on two legs struggled to her feet, her legs wobbly and uneasy beneath her like those of a newborn calf. Her tear-streaked face broke into a thoroughly unconvincing smile as she tried to find her voice again. "S-s-so, maybe the old lady isn't so c-crazy after all, h-huh?"

The note of hysteria in her voice denied her flippant words, and her hands clutched the two individuals as if her life depended upon it. Her skin was slick with sweat, her uniform stained with it and they could feel her trembling all over. Questions tumbled out of her which would have been nonsensical were it not for the fact that the people in the room knew her history. "You just, we were doing a transporter experiment, right? What, what year is it? How long was I gone? This is the right universe, isn't it? This is the USS Hera, right?"

Through it all, she did not need to ask if this was her Sonak, because she could feel him. Though in her panicked and scattered state, she lacked the focus to hear him in her mind or reach for him, because existence was still quite startling to her.

Asa decided to risk getting yelled at for insubordination and disrespect of a superior officer and took a breath. They smoothed all worry off their face and kept a firm grasp on the XO's arm, and put their other hand on her shoulder, saying in soft, soothing tones, "Hey, hey, Rita, it's ok. You are Lieutenant Commander Rita Paris, brave first officer on the USS Hera, and the year is 2395. We were doing a transporter experiment when the damn thing tried to eat you, but your husband Sonak gave you a device that worked with our efforts to get you home. It was never only in your head, and we are going to make sure this never happens again. I promise you are safe and healthy, and we are going to get you to your quarters to rest, ok? Rita, are you with me?"

They rubbed small circles on her back and surreptitiously checked her pulse with the hand on her arms as they were no longer scanning with the tricorder. Asa motioned towards the door with Sonak and the two of them began to move the beleagured blonde towards the door of the transporter room.

"Fingerman, please keep this room off-line until Lieutenant Sonak has a chance to do full diagnostics please. The EMH will be in shortly to gather the samples for further evaluation, and I will report to the Captain that I am recommending 24 hours rest for the Lieutenant Commander. Copy?" the doctor called over their shoulder.

"No." The still-shaking Starfleet officer resisted leaving the room, not with strength, but with simple slow movements meant to break holds, and her words. "Give, give me a minute to... I have to calm down. And a, a uniform. I'm... I'm First Officer. We're going to a war zone. They can't... the crew can't see me like this. It'll undermine confidence." Her breathing was still ragged, but Rita Paris placed her hand on the slender doctor's shoulder for stability as she took Sonak by the hand.

Without a word, they eased her down to the floor, where she pulled her still-trembling legs into the lotus position, boots and all. As Sonak settled opposite her, and extended his fingers to meet hers, she connected with the kolinahr master. Looking up she made eye contact with the transporter chief. When she spoke, her tone was gentle, not authoritative, but pleading. "Belay that order, Chief? Doc knows best, but I'll be with Sonak all night, and he'll put me back together again. We've got work to do and I can't be benched."

Looking to the concerned and compassionate physician, Rita Paris offered them a warm smile. "I'll be okay, Doc. It's worse than it looks, and Sonak has helped me through this before. Please, just get me a clean uniform and twenty minutes or so. You are welcome to accompany me to our quarters and take any and all the readings you may desire, and I shall comply willingly to your satisfaction. However, I require time to meditate, to reorder my mind and process this experience. Please, With your indulgence, Doctor Dael?"

Reaching up, the spirit of the 23rd century offered her hand to the El-Aurian explorer. In point of fact, the girl who'd been a ghost was a great believer in the compassionate nature of a simple touch. A philosophy that she shared with the young immortal. Thus, as she asked for a leap of faith from the frazzled physician, she offered in return trust- a connection in the form of a bond of touch. For amongst her people, it was the way one led another- to offer a hand. An offer of help, of leadership, of love, of compassion, of greeting, of friendship, to uplift... was solidified by the offering of a hand.

Asa smiled and clasped the proffered hand in return. "Yes ma'am, as you say. I will be right back. Please, take whatever time you need."

The doctor jogged back to the turbolift and went directly to Sick Bay. Going to the replicator they said, "Computer, I need a uniform for Lieutenant Commander Paris, please. One identical to the one she was wearing earlier today. Also another med bag that the uniform will fit in, a protein bar, whatever her favorite flavor is, a bottle of water, a bag of orange slices, and a hypo with a mild sedative. 10CC of Diphenylmethane should do it, optional inhaler delivery method too please."

Once the replicator provided the requested items, Asa grabbed some medical sanitary wipes and a towel and threw them in the bag as well, then jogged back to the turbolift. They legged it back into the transporter room and placed the bag on the inside of the door without looking in, not wanting to intrude on the married couple's privacy.

"Ma'am, your uniform is in the bag, along with a few other things. Please eat the food provided, at least a little bit, before trying to move too much. It should help with any shock. Please let me know if you need anything else, I will be waiting here for you. And again, take your time, you are my priority, and I have nowhere else I need to be."

"Acknowledged." came the eerie double reply of both Rita and Sonak, still sitting one in front of the other, fingetips touching, eyes closed.

With that, the young doctor sat on the floor and pulled out a PaDD, updating the system to keep the deck clear of personnel for another hour to preserve their patients privacy.

It took exactly fifty-three minutes before both their breathing synchronized into a very slow, regular rhythm, and they finally opened their eyes and changed their delicate finger contact into a full hand clap. Then their two extended fingers touched like crossed swords, but there was only peace and serenity between them.

"Welcome back, Rita my wife," the Vulcan said, with still the shade of an emotional inflection left into his otherwise deep low deadpan voice. "Now and forever, you will never be lost."

"My hero," Paris smiled, a lopsided affair that was a bit weary, but content. "You always come through for me."

Sonak turned to look at Dael.

"Thank you Doctor."

"Yes, thank you, Doc," Paris added. "Team effort out there today- you did some good work, and you helped save my life. I owe you one."

Asa sagged with visible relief that Paris appeared to be in a better state, and let a weary small smile appear. "Of course, Lieutenant, it is my honor to serve. Shall I wait outside so everyone can get.....situated?" they asked with a glance towards the bag containing the clean uniform. "Fingerman, would you be so kind as to join me in the hallway? I could use your help getting these specimen containers back to sick bay, if you don't mind?"

The portly mustachioed transporter chief had remained at his post, but now, understanding what was happening, scooped up the sample on the transporter console and the one inside the doorway to bring them to the doctor in the corridor outside. As the door closed, he turned his gaze on the young ship's surgeon.

"That... I didn't do that, right? I mean, I never saw a transporter do that, not in all my years in Starfleet. The damn thing..." Chief Fingerman realized that passersby could hear, so he leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "The damn thing tried to eat that poor girl. I never seen anything like it, Lieutenant. The sounds she made..." It was clear that the old enlisted man was shaken by what he'd seen, and considering it was his hand at the controls, Paris wasn't the only one who needed some support after this particular experience.

The doctor took the samples from the chief and turned back to look him in the eyes, their picture a face of encouragement and understanding. "No, Chief, no, of course you didn't do that. You did an excellent job, the Commander has had issues with transporters in the past, far worse than she had today. We were working to find the cause of these issues so we can stop anything bad from happening in the future. We couldn't have done that without you. You said it yourself... transporters get twitchy around her, but we're going to stop it... together."

As they spoke, Dael lightly rubbed the outside of Fingerman's arm, up and down, up and down, and keeping their voice soft and melodious, Asa waited for the slight nod of confirmation that their words were starting to get through, which they got, if a bit grudgingly. The crusty old man clearly felt some blame for what had happened, but the young doctor's words were getting through.

After a brief pause, they continued, "I'm so sorry if I snapped today, Chief. You did such an excellent job. No one thought Commander Paris would be taken by the beam when she wasn't on the pad. There was no way to know that would happen, and no one could have responded any better. You were calm and professional, and I know Sonak valued your contributions as well. I'm sure the XO will express her gratitude to you also after she's had a bit of rest. What can I do for you? Are there any repairs needed or tasks I can help you with? I don't know a lot about transporters, but I can do paperwork for us if you like?"

"After today," the old man smiled, "I think I'm going to have a scotch and a cigar, and spend some time sitting on my porch in Georgia listening to the rain fall. That was..." the old man trailed off, then shook his head. "Those screams are gonna give me nightmares. Damn good thing you and the science officer were here today. You two saved that girl, Doc- you're okay in my book." The old chief sighed, shaking his head. "Transporter room 4 is offline until you and Mr. Sonak clear it. Me, I'm officially off duty. That's more excitement in ten minutes than this old man cares to see in a lifetime."

At that moment the door to said transporter room opened, and the unconventionally uniformed executive officer stepped out into the corridor, the portrait of her usual calmly composed self. "Chief? Well done in there. Circumstances above and beyond, you stayed at your post and did all the right things. You helped save my life today, and damned if you aren't getting a medal for it."

While she was known by many to be a hugger, Paris extended her hand to the chief in a handshake- a professional expression that was acceptable in a crowded thoroughfare of the starship. Taking the offered hand, the chief shook it and accepted the praise. "I'll be on my way then, ma'am."

"Doctor, walk with us?" Paris asked as she stood there, as if an hour ago she'd had breakfast, not been torn asunder on a molecular level by dueling transporters seemingly hungry for her flesh.

It was always a bit of a shock to Asa how quickly command could recover from horrible circumstances, and Paris was no exception. She should be weeping on the floor in the Doc's book, but here she was, professional as always. Trying to shake off their own emotional crash that was surely coming, Asa pasted on their usual smile and said , "Of course, Commander."

"That was a very exciting experiment, wasn't it?" the extradimensional explorer asked as they walked at a casual pace. Sonak was beside her, hands clasped behind him but lagging slightly behind, in position should she require support. But Rita was making her way quite well, and to all outward appearances was fine.

"I'm sorry, Doc. I knew... I didn't know it was going to do that, and I don't know how it did do that. And if I know you, you feel as though you are to blame for wanting to try the experiment, aren't you?" There was no accusation nor acrimony in the first officer's question, only honesty, as always.

With a sigh, Asa shook their head yes. "I'm so sorry, I should have done more preliminary testing before ever exposing you to that blasted room. And then...well I guess I got a bit emotional, I apologize for any outburst," the doctor answered, sounding remorseful.

"We'll have none of that, Lieutenant," Paris replied lightly. "Sonak has been there for three of my four greatest hits in a transporter room, and he didn't anticipate what happened in there. In my book that means no one could have predicted that sort of behavior from the transporter. Which means that I will simply not accept you blaming yourself. We collected a lot of data today, and we made genuine strides toward figuring out why this happens to me. Which means that we are coming closer to a cure."

"Which was your idea." Rita paused to let that one sink in, before stopping at the turbolift. Pressing the down button, the lift arrived immediately. Leading the way in, the second in command turned to insure they were all aboard, then called, "Deck 8, Officer's Country please."

"As for emotional outbursts, Doctor, you care for people." The lift arrived at the destination and as they disembarked, the displaced damsel continued driving toward her point. "You ease their suffering and heal their injuries, cure their maladies. You care for people because you care."

Asa could see beads of sweat forming on the brow of the ravishing relic. Her posture was still erect and she was walking fine, but it certainly wasn't that martial pace she usually maintained. The tone of her skin was a bit paler than normal as well. But her voice was it's usual steady flow of old-school idealism.

"So when one of your patients starts screaming, you get a bit emotional because you are a good person, Myx Dael. Never be ashamed of that. You did great in there, and if you hadn't kept your head I might have lost mine." Reaching the door of their quarters, the door whooshed open, but Rita Paris turned to face the starship surgeon. "All of this was because you wanted to help. On so many levels, danger and all, you did just that. You're a good officer, a fine doctor, and a friend. Thanks for caring- never stop, because it is what makes you great."

Asa blushed at the praise, grateful for the kindness the first officer showed, even when under extreme duress herself. "Thank you, ma'am. We will find a way to cure this." They withdrew their tricorder and did a quick scan, as much for their own peace of mind as anything else.

"The good news is, apart from the exhaustion that is going to get insistent here soon no doubt, you are as healthy as ever. Your blood sugar is a bit off from all the excitement no doubt, so please make sure to eat before you crash, ok? A proper meal with carbs, protein, fiber, vitamins...all that good stuff. It may be trite, but chicken noodle soup is great for moments like this. The sodium and liquid content would be good too...." Asa trailed off, realizing they were talking from nervousness again. "Sorry, I'm keeping you from rest. Is there anything else I can do for either of you today ma'am, sir?"

They took a step back to allow the officers freedom to enter their quarters without intruding, making sure to keep the smile on their face, although the stress cry they felt coming would not be put off for too long.

Stepping inside her quarters fulfilled Rita Paris' old-school sense of decorum, and she turned to offer open arms to the young doctor. Tonight she would have Sonak, who would hold her and soothe her through the night, even as she reassured him that she was still here, still beside him. But the young immortal who had defied his family and struck out into the universe to find their own fate would be alone with their thoughts, their self-recriminations and second-guessing for the rest of the day and into the night.

The power of an offered hand was powerful, but it paled in comparison to the healing power of a hug. It reaffirmed life, comforted and connected people, end both came away the greater for it. The ghost of the 23rd century knew this power well, and firmly believed in its healing power applicable to most lifeforms across the galaxy. It was an exchange she needed as much as she suspected the singular surgeon did right now.

Asa all but collapsed into Rita's arms, a few errant tears leaking out in spite of their best efforts at self control. "Th-th-thank you ma'am. You're really huggable, you know?" they snuffled onto the first officers uniform, letting the warmth of the other envelop them, and sagging for just a few seconds before sensing it was time to extricate themself from the embrace. Which was not released- instead, Paris held the young person, stroked their hair a few times and made shooshing noises.

"It's all right. It was scary, but we're all okay now. There you go." At that, the cushiony cosmonaut released the frail physician, letting them step back to stand in the doorway.

Wiping at their eyes, Asa felt a bit of the tenseness leave their neck, and a contented look smoothed out the furrows they hadn't even realized were creasing their brow. "I'll check on you in the morning, if that is okay, ma'am? Just want to make sure you don't grow a third eye or something overnight," the doctor asked with an attempt at levity.

"I would very much appreciate it if you called on me this evening, Doctor. A few good scans, and I'll make some baked ziti. Say 19:00 hours," Paris turned the checkup instead into a social event, because the kid was all alone out here and they would worry about her if they didn't check. And a doctor looking after their patients should never be discouraged.

Silently, Sonak stepped past Asa and stepped beside Rita, taking her hand in his own as her half-lidded eyes opened a bit and she seemed to become more alert. It was then evident just how much Sonak had propped her up for the walk back to their quarters, and how truly exhausted the woman was after her ordeal.

"I would be happy to, Commander. And that sounds delicious! See you then...?" the doctor stood near the doorway, waiting for clearance to leave.

"Good day, doctor," Paris smiled as the door closed. Having served her duty to have appeared well to the crew, and especially those involved in the experiment, the exhausted executive limply collapsed against Sonak. The blue-clad pillar of strength whom had lent her the energy and presence of mind to accomplish the task caught her easily.

With a determined expression, Dael turned and took the turbolift to Sick Bay, anxious to begin research on the data found today. They fervently hoped to have more to report by the end of the day.