Episode 37 - Second Chances
Stardate: 41599.7
Earth Standard Date: August 07, 2364.
Location: Personal Reality
Tyson opened the High Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door from his Personal Reality and stepped into T'Pol's quarters on the NX-01 Enterprise. The room remained pristine, with Vulcan meditation candles arranged in perfect geometric patterns, but something felt off. Her personal PADD sat untouched on the desk, its screen dark. The meditation mat showed no signs of recent use.
He ran his hand along the edge of her desk. She hadn't returned. The last time he'd sought her out, Trip said she was on a mission with Captain Archer. That had been days ago.
Even more troubling was what he saw in her description in the Character Sheet.
T'Pol: Access Key, Origin: Rubber Forehead, Origin: Elite, Above Law and Reason, Pedigree, Distinct Feature, Everyone Likes Green Chicks, Planetary Domicile, Photonic Rapier, Protector Drones, Space Elf, Space Wizard, Symbol, The Science Directorate Has Determined...
[+100 CP] The Science Directorate Has Determined... (Drawback)
...that alternate universes do not exist, evidence to the contrary notwithstanding. And where you're concerned, they might as well be right. At least sometimes. For the duration of your stay, you are completely incapable of intentional dimensional travel by any means, be they technologies or events seen in this setting, or by using powers or methods from elsewhere.
Character Points: 350, [250 KOTOR (Vicky)], [100 T'Pol]
It was identical to the Drawback he'd gotten when Q sent him to the Mirror Universe. Now that he thought about it, that was the same day that Q had targeted him. It was likely that it had happened simultaneously, but he had been unaware. T'Pol's Drawback hadn't appeared then, and he only noticed it today.
"Computer, locate Captain Archer," Tyson said.
"Captain Archer is on the bridge."
Leaving T'Pol's quarters, he moved through the corridors of the NX-01. Crewmen nodded respectfully as he passed. The ship's design felt primitive compared to the Enterprise-D, with exposed conduits and manual door controls, but there was something honest about its utilitarian aesthetic. When the turbolift doors opened to the bridge, he immediately noted the tension in the air. Captain Archer stood near the science station, leaning over Lieutenant Reed's shoulder. Tucker paced near the engineering console, his usual easygoing demeanor absent.
"Commander Tyson," Archer acknowledged without looking up. "Good timing."
"Captain," Tyson said, approaching the center of the bridge. "What's our status?"
Archer straightened up and gestured toward the viewscreen. "We discovered a derelict Xindi-Insectoid starship on the surface. No life signs, but the ship appears mostly intact."
"Any sign of T'Pol?" Tyson asked.
Trip looked up sharply. "She's not with you?"
"I haven't seen her in two months," Tyson said. "Since before your mission."
Archer frowned. His expression darkened as he exchanged glances with Trip. He motioned Tyson toward his ready room. "Commander Tucker, you have the bridge."
Once inside the cramped ready room, Archer leaned against his desk, arms folded across his chest. "Daniels sent us back to the year 2004 to find some Xindi who'd been developing a biological weapon. We were successful, but when Daniels returned me, he said T'Pol didn't belong in our timeline, and he'd be reuniting her with you. He'd said you also didn't belong."
Tyson's eyes narrowed. The temporal agent's interference made sense in a frustrating way. Both he and T'Pol were anomalies in this universe. He was a visitor from a different timeline, and she was meant to die on the Seleya.
"He specifically mentioned you by name," Archer added. "Said something about 'correcting temporal incursions' and 'maintaining the proper flow of history.' I assumed she was with you this whole time."
Porthos, Archer's beagle, trotted over to Tyson and sniffed his boots curiously. Tyson knelt to scratch behind the dog's ears.
"Captain, I need to know exactly what Daniels said. His exact words, if possible."
Archer closed his eyes briefly, recalling the conversation. "Initially, he said, 'I could choose one crewmember to go with me for the mission, and when I said I'd be bringing T'Pol, he believed her dead. When I confirmed that you brought her back from the Seleya, he was troubled in a way I'd never seen before. He was certain that T'Pol was supposed to die on that mission and that you were not supposed to be on Enterprise, which may be causing ripples in the timeline. When I returned, he assured me that you and T'Pol would be reunited outside the primary timeline.' I took that to mean he was sending her to you."
"But he didn't specify when or where this reunion would take place," Tyson said, standing up.
"No… If you need our assistance—"
Tyson raised his hand. "Don't worry, Captain. Your mission is of the utmost importance. I'll find some way to contact Daniels. Thank you."
Archer nodded, his concern evident despite his attempt at a professional demeanor. "T'Pol is a valuable officer and... a friend. I hope you find her."
"So do I," Tyson said quietly.
He left the ready room, nodding to Trip on his way to the turbolift. The engineer looked like he wanted to say something, but Tyson was already gone, the doors closing behind him.
Suddenly, Tyson wasn't inside the turbolift. He found himself in crew quarters within the Enterprise, the transition so abrupt he nearly lost his balance. A man stood before him, his posture rigid and expectant.
"Daniels, I presume," Tyson said, recognizing the temporal agent immediately, but acting as if he was somewhat surprised. "Where's T'Pol?"
"She's safe, though she shouldn't be."
"I've heard that you apparently took issue with me saving her," he replied.
"You're meddling with the timeline. What faction do you work for?"
Tyson blinked in confusion. "Uh, I'm not part of your Temporal Cold War or whatever. I'm a man from the past. Actually, not far from when you dropped off T'Pol and Captain Archer. I was brought about the USS Enterprise-D, which is what I consider my current home. Right now, it's August of 2364. I was given access to this Enterprise's timeline by Q."
Daniels began pacing. "Q? That was when Q was most active. But he doesn't usually leave a lasting effect on the timeline when he intervenes. At least outside of when he intends to." He mumbled under his breath, "There haven't been any signs of Q since the 2500s—"
"Look," Tyson interrupted, "I was trying to help. From the records of the NX-01 Enterprise where I came from, T'Pol was supposed to survive. So I intervened. I didn't expect there would be any negative consequences to saving her. In fact, I thought the opposite. I believed by saving her, I'd been keeping this timeline's events intact. If you don't want me to interfere here, I understand. I'm not interested in messing up the timeline. I only care about T'Pol, not what happens with Archer or this ship."
Daniels stopped pacing and turned to face him. "If I return T'Pol, you'll leave and never return?"
Tyson considered this for a moment. His presence here was clearly causing complications he hadn't anticipated. Honestly, he didn't care much for the events of Enterprise and couldn't think of any good reason not to stay away.
"If Archer doesn't need my help, which I imagine he doesn't if the Federation in this timeline makes it to your time... Then there's nothing left for me here..." He paused, his voice softening. "Except T'Pol."
Daniels nodded, seemingly satisfied with this arrangement. "I'll return her. Please don't return here, you'll only complicate things and make them worse."
"I understand," Tyson said firmly.
Then Daniels was gone in a shimmer that resembled a teleporter, but different, and T'Pol was standing in his place as if she'd always been there. Her eyebrow arched slightly in that familiar Vulcan expression of curiosity.
Tyson didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and lifted her in a hug, his relief overwhelming any concern for Vulcan propriety.
T'Pol relaxed in his embrace for a moment before gently extracting herself. Her expression remained composed, but a subtle warmth flickered in her eyes.
"I am pleased to see you, too. Though your emotional response is unexpected. I've only been gone a few days."
Tyson shook his head. "For you, it's been a few days. For me, it's been two months. But we need to go," he continued. "I made an agreement with Daniels."
T'Pol tilted her head slightly, her posture stiffening. "I cannot create portals."
"I can," Tyson said, his voice softening. "But I'm sorry. You won't be able to return here. It was part of the agreement."
He opened a way to her quarters. "By saving you, I interfered with this timeline. To make things right, we need to go."
T'Pol stood perfectly still, her hands clasped behind her back in typical Vulcan fashion. Her eyes, however, revealed the conflict within. She glanced around the quarters that had been her home for years, lingering on the meditation candles and the small Vulcan artifacts she had brought aboard.
"I understand," she said, though she appeared hesitant. Her gaze drifted to the door, as if contemplating one last walk through the corridors of Enterprise.
Tyson recognized the unspoken sentiment. "I spoke with Captain Archer. He said that you were a valuable officer, and he and the senior officers sent their best wishes."
The tension in T'Pol's shoulders eased slightly. She moved to her desk and picked up a small PADD, her fingers tracing its surface. "This ship has been my home longer than I anticipated when I first came aboard."
"I know," Tyson said. "But you've completed your mission here. The timeline will proceed as it should. Enterprise will succeed in their mission, Daniels couldn't be here otherwise."
T'Pol nodded, her decision made. "I require a moment to gather my personal effects."
"Take your time."
T'Pol moved with efficient purpose, selecting items of personal significance. A ceremonial meditation lamp. Several data crystals containing her research. A small box of Vulcan tea leaves. A set of civilian clothes.
Tyson waited patiently as she methodically packed her belongings into a small case. There was something poignant about a woman collecting the fragments of her life before leaving it behind forever.
When she finished, T'Pol stood in the center of her quarters, taking one final look around. Her expression remained impassive, but Tyson understood the weight of this moment for her.
She glanced at him, her hand hovering near the wall panel. "There is one matter I must attend to before we depart."
He nodded in understanding.
She pressed the communications button. "T'Pol to Captain Archer."
The response came almost immediately, Archer's voice filled with unmistakable relief. "T'Pol! Where have you been? Are you alright?"
"I am unharmed, Captain. I am with Commander Tyson."
Trip's voice burst through the comm, "T'Pol! You had us worried sick. One minute you were with the Cap'n in 2004, next thing we know, you've vanished."
"I apologize for causing concern. Temporal Agent Daniels intercepted my return."
A brief silence followed before Archer spoke again. "I spoke Tyson just minutes ago. We're under the asdumption that you won't be coming back to Enterprise."
"That is correct. My presence here disrupts the proper timeline. Logic dictates I must depart with Commander Tyson."
"Logic," Trip muttered, his voice softening. "Always about logic with you, isn't it?"
"Not always, Commander," T'Pol replied, looking at Tyson, the faintest inflection warmed her words.
Archer cleared his throat. "You've been an invaluable member of this crew, T'Pol. The first Vulcan to serve on a human vessel. You helped bridge our worlds."
"And kept this crew from fallin' apart more times than I can count," Trip added.
T'Pol's gaze met Tyson's briefly before returning to the comm panel. "Serving aboard Enterprise has been... an enlightening experience. One I had not anticipated when I first came aboard."
"I think that goes for all of us," Archer said with a slight chuckle.
"I regret I cannot say goodbye in person."
Trip's voice grew husky. "You take care of yourself out there, T'Pol. Don't go forgettin' about us simple humans."
"That would be impossible, Commander Tucker."
"The crew will miss you," Archer said. "I'll miss you. But if anyone can adapt to a new timeline, it's you."
T'Pol raised her hand in the Vulcan salute, though they couldn't see it. "Live long and prosper, Captain Archer, Commander Tucker."
"Peace and long life, T'Pol," Archer replied with the formal Vulcan response.
"Goodbye, T'Pol," Trip said softly.
The comm channel closed with a gentle click, leaving the quarters in silence.
"I am ready," she said simply.
Tyson approached the wall of T'Pol's quarters and opened the High Security Inter-Reality Connecting Door.
The door swung open, revealing the Antechamber. She stepped through, he followed, closing the door behind them. As it shut, the doorframe shimmered and vanished as Tyson peeled it off the wall like a sticker. He was left holding a card representing the door.
The connection was closed. They were locked out of the Enterprise universe permanently.
She turned to face him fully. "You have lost access to a timeline because of me."
Tyson shook his head. "I gained access to a timeline for you. You deserved better than to die on the Seleya. And now you're here."
T'Pol stepped closer to him. The gentle light of the Antechamber caught the copper highlights in her hair and illuminated the subtle angles of her face. Her eyes, usually so guarded, now held a depth that transcended her Vulcan reserve.
"I believe the human term of endearment is… That's sweet," she said, her voice carrying its characteristic evenness, though Tyson detected a hint of warmth beneath the surface.
He smiled, appreciating her attempt at human expression. For T'Pol, such concessions didn't come naturally, making them all the more meaningful when offered.
She raised her hand between them, extending her first two fingers in the traditional Vulcan gesture of intimacy. The ozh'esta. Her gaze remained steady on his, an invitation in her eyes.
Tyson mirrored her gesture, bringing his fingers to meet hers. The moment their skin connected, he felt the familiar current of their bond forming. Through their joined fingers flowed a torrent of controlled emotion. T'Pol's mental discipline created channels rather than dams for her feelings. Where human emotions crashed like waves, hers moved like underground rivers, powerful but contained. He sensed her gratitude, deeper than words could express, for his intervention on the Seleya. Beneath that was contentment at their reunion, and a sense of belonging that she had rarely experienced among her own people.
T'Pol's eyes widened slightly as Tyson's emotions washed over her. His overwhelming relief at having found her again, concern that had built during their separation, and most potent of all, love. Complex and multifaceted. His affection for her wasn't despite her Vulcan nature but inclusive of it, appreciating both her logic and the emotions she so carefully managed. The connection deepened, their consciousness meeting in that space between thought and feeling. For T'Pol, whose people valued mental discipline above all else, this sharing represented a vulnerability far more intimate than any physical act. That she allowed it spoke volumes about her trust in him.
She leaned up and he lowered his head to kiss her. The ozh'esta transformed into something more human, yet no less profound. Their lips met with gentle restraint that quickly deepened as Vulcan discipline gave way to something ancient and primal.
T'Pol's hands moved to his shoulders, steadying herself against the rush of sensation. For a species that lived their lives suppressing emotion, allowing oneself to feel fully was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her fingers curled against the fabric of his uniform as she surrendered to the moment. Tyson cradled her face reverently. He felt the heat of her skin, warmer than a human's by several degrees, and sensed the rapid beating of her heart. Through their bond, he experienced the complexity of her response; the logical part of her mind cataloging physical reactions while deeper currents of emotion swept through her.
She drew back slightly, her breathing uneven. Her normally composed features revealed subtle changes. Green flushed skin, dilated pupils, and lips parted.
"This is... most agreeable," she said, her voice lower than usual.
Tyson smiled, tracing the elegant point of her ear with his fingertip. "I've missed you."
"The feeling is mutual," T'Pol admitted, the words coming easier than they once would have.
Her hands remained on his shoulders, their foreheads touching, breath mingling in the space between them. When she finally pulled away, he opened a portal to his suite, and they stepped through the threshold. The Housing Complex welcomed them as he gestured to one of the rooms within his suite.
"It seems you'll be staying here permanently," he said.
The room adjusted to feature clean lines and neutral tones that would appeal to Vulcan sensibilities, with a meditation alcove already prepared in one corner. T'Pol entered the space, taking in the minimalist design with approval. She placed her case on a low table and began methodically arranging her possessions.
"When you're settled, I should show you all the changes that have gone on here," Tyson said, leaning against the doorframe.
T'Pol paused, a meditation candle in hand. "I suppose if it has been two months, then much has changed."
"More than you'd probably expect. You weren't the only one stranded. I was locked in the mirror universe." He watched her carefully. "Are you familiar with it?"
"No," T'Pol replied, placing the candle on a shelf.
"Ah, guess that happened later. You had long hair for that one. Total babe."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow, her hands stilling over her belongings.
Tyson cleared his throat. "Not that you aren't beautiful as you are. Because your look is classic." He chuckled awkwardly. "Anyway, the mirror universe is a universe where the Humans aren't Humans. They're Terrans. And they're conquerors. When first contact happened, they attacked the Vulcans, claiming the ship and its technology, and only continuing from there."
T'Pol's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. She turned to face him fully, her eyes reflecting concern.
"While I was trapped there, I freed a slave contingent of Vulcans, so there are a few thousand of them living within the Personal Reality now, and I've made several upgrades to accommodate them."
"A few thousand Vulcans? Here?"
"Yes. I couldn't leave them there." Tyson straightened up. "They were being used as slave labor in ice mines on Titan. The conditions were... brutal."
They approached a large display panel on one wall. Tyson activated it with a gesture, and a three-dimensional map of the Reality appeared.
"The island that most of the Personal Reality resides on is Crete, a Greek island on Earth. The Vulcans have organized themselves into communities based on their regions of origin on Vulcan," Tyson explained. "They've established a governing council to address any concerns."
T'Pol studied the map, her eyes widening slightly at the scale. "This is far more extensive than I anticipated."
"It grew as needed," Tyson said. "The Reality adapts to accommodate its inhabitants." He opened another portal to the beach. A young Vulcan woman approached them as they stepped out, carrying a data pad. She raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan salute.
"Commander Tyson, the first successful harvest of plomeek has arrived within the Housing kitchens." She turned to T'Pol and offered the same salute. "I am T'Lara, assistant to the council."
T'Pol returned the salute. "I am T'Pol."
"Your arrival has been anticipated," T'Lara said. "Many wish to express their gratitude for your Companion's intervention on our behalf."
"I merely did what was necessary and promised," Tyson said.
"Nevertheless, your actions preserved our lives and our culture. The council will be gathering tomorrow to discuss the integration of new educational programs within the Classy Classroom."
"I'll be there so long as nothing pressing arises," Tyson assured her.
After T'Lara departed, T'Pol turned to Tyson with renewed interest. "You have created more than a refuge. You have established a society."
"They did most of the work," Tyson said. "I just provided the space and facilities. Their resilience is remarkable."
They continued walking, passing through an arched doorway into the Parkland Paradise.
"This is one of the Meditation Corners," Tyson explained. "Many come here for their daily rituals."
T'Pol inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent of Vulcan incense. "You have recreated elements of Vulcan with impressive accuracy."
"I had help from cultural databases, the Enterprise-D's arboretum and the Guardian's Greenhouse," Tyson admitted. "And the Vulcans themselves provided guidance on what would make them feel most at home."
A group of Vulcan children passed by, accompanied by an elder who was instructing them in what appeared to be basic principles of logic. They moved with the disciplined calm characteristic of Vulcans, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity as they glanced at T'Pol and Tyson.
"The children seem well-adjusted," T'Pol observed.
"They've shown remarkable adaptability," Tyson agreed. "Though the transition wasn't easy for anyone. Many still carry the psychological effects of their captivity. But the facilities here are helping, particularly the Counseling Bay."
— Star Jumper —
Tyson sat across from Commander Riker and T'Pol in the Enterprise's replimat. "So that's why we can't go back," Tyson concluded, setting down his fork. "According to this Daniels character, T'Pol was meant to die on the Seleya. By saving her, I created a temporal anomaly."
Riker leaned forward curiously. "And this Starfleet officer was from the 31st century?"
"According to Captain Archer," Tyson confirmed. "Apparently, there's some kind of 'Temporal Cold War' happening in the future, and it spilled over into the time of the NX-01 Enterprise. Daniels is an agent working to preserve the timeline."
"The concept of predestination is contrary to Vulcan philosophy. If my death were predetermined, then logic would dictate that no intervention could have prevented it."
"Unless the timeline is more flexible than we realize," Riker suggested. "Which brings up the question, does this have any implications for our current timeline? T'Pol is from nearly two centuries in our past."
"I don't think so," Tyson said with a shrug. "The Bureau of Temporal Investigations seemed fine with it last time we met, and time-travel enforcement officers like Daniels haven't visited me in this timeline, as I'm from the past also. I assume we're fine."
"Fascinating," Riker murmured, his gaze drifting to T'Pol. "To think, you're from the same era as Zefram Cochrane."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I never met him personally. First Contact was twenty-five years before my birth."
Tyson watched the exchange with interest, but his thoughts drifted. There were things he knew from his meta-knowledge, and he hadn't been abusing that knowledge much since he arrived. There wasn't much of a need, because he'd been steadily getting stronger and the natural course of his adventures had provided plenty of opportunities. But now, there was one thing that he was considering and wanted to steer Commander Riker toward.
"Will," he asked casually, "have you thought about the portals much?"
Riker shook his head. "Not since the rescue mission. Why?"
"You've been in Starfleet for years. I'm sure you've seen so much of the quadrant."
"I suppose I have. Can't you go anywhere?" Riker asked.
"Sure, I go plenty of places, but there are so many I've never been before," Tyson explained. "I haven't even seen Earth yet, even though it's where I'm from, circa a few hundred years ago." He watched Riker's expression carefully before continuing. "Is there any special place you've ever visited? Some world that's really far away, or someplace that's been lost or inaccessible? Well, if I passed you the key and rod again, you could go there."
Riker's eyes widened slightly. He set down his coffee mug, his expression growing thoughtful. "There are a few places," he admitted. "Planets I've visited during away missions that I never expected to see again."
"Such as?" Tyson prompted leadingly.
Riker hesitated, a shadow crossing his features. "There was one planet... Nervala IV."
T'Pol tilted her head slightly. "I am unfamiliar with this world."
"It's not particularly remarkable," Riker said, his voice taking on an oddly distant quality. "Class-M planet, uninhabited. I was part of an evacuation team there three years ago when I was serving on the Potemkin."
Tyson nodded encouragingly. It seemed Riker was taking the bait. He didn't remember the name of the planet, but this was exactly what he'd hoped for. Still, he feigned ignorance. "What made it special?"
"The planet has a unique distortion field. When it appears, it makes transport impossible. We barely got out before it activated." Riker paused, rotating his mug slowly between his palms. "The field should be dissipating in another five years. Until then, the planet is inaccessible."
"Sounds like the perfect opportunity to show the use of portals to Starflert," Tyson suggested. "No transporter could get through that distortion field, but a portal bypasses conventional space entirely."
T'Pol regarded Riker. "Would returning to this location serve a scientific purpose?"
"Likely," Riker admitted. "But I've often wondered what happened to our research outpost there. We had to evacuate in such a hurry that we left equipment and all the data behind."
"The Enterprise isn't scheduled for anything until we have to rendezvous with Counselor Troi's shuttle tomorrow. You could open a portal, take a quick look around, retrieve any valuable equipment or data, and be back before anyone notices you're gone."
"That's true. It would save Starfleet the trouble of mounting another expedition once the distortion field clears."
"And if there's anything interesting there, you'd be the first to discover it," Tyson added.
"I would need to inform the Captain," Riker said, though his tone suggested he was already considering the possibility.
"Of course," Tyson agreed. "But think about it, this is exactly the kind of opportunity the portal ability was meant for."
T'Pol set down her teacup. "I would be interested in accompanying such an expedition. The distortion field sounds similar to certain anomalies I studied while serving on the NX-01 Enterprise."
Riker nodded slowly, his expression resolving into determination. "I'll speak with Captain Picard today. If he approves, we could make the trip immediately."
"Perfect," Tyson said, suppressing a knowing smile. "Let me know if you need any assistance preparing."
As they finished their meal, Tyson watched Riker's renewed enthusiasm with satisfaction. The commander was already mentally planning the expedition, unaware of what, or who, awaited him on Nervala IV.
Less than an hour later, Commander Riker, Tyson, and T'Pol sat in Captain Picard's ready room. The captain's collection of archaeological artifacts lined the shelves behind his desk. Picard studied a PADD in his hands before setting it down and looking up at the three officers.
"I've spoken with Starfleet Command," Picard said, folding his hands on the desk. "They've approved the mission to Nervala IV to retrieve the valuable data that was lost during the evacuation."
Riker nodded, straightening in his chair. "Thank you, sir."
"Will, you're the lead for this mission." Picard fixed his first officer with a steady gaze. "I've no need to tell you to be cautious, given you've more experience with Nervala IV than anyone."
"Yes, sir."
Picard glanced at Tyson. "These portals are a miraculous ability. Let us hope they don't fail."
"No worries, Captain," he said with easy confidence. "We'll be back before you know it."
"I've no doubt." Picard's lips quirked in a brief smile before his expression turned serious again. He shifted his attention to T'Pol, who sat with perfect Vulcan posture, hands resting lightly on her knees.
"I've also spoken with Starfleet Command about you, T'Pol." Picard's tone softened slightly. "Granting commission to an officer who's been away from duty for hundreds of years is not a common occurrence."
T'Pol inclined her head. "I understand the unusual nature of my situation, Captain."
"Starfleet has reviewed your service record from the NX-01," Picard continued. "Your contributions during the Xindi crisis and the founding of the Federation were... exemplary. After considerable deliberation," Picard said, "Starfleet has decided to offer you a commission at the rank of Lieutenant."
"That is most generous."
"Not at all," Picard countered. "It's merely appropriate recognition of your previous service. Your experience with early warp drive technology and first contact situations is invaluable. Admiral Nakamura specifically mentioned your diplomatic skills during the Andorian incidents."
"The Admiral is well-versed in history," T'Pol observed.
"Indeed." Picard picked up another PADD and handed it to her. "You'll need to complete the standard officer refresher courses to familiarize yourself with current Starfleet protocols and technology. However, given your circumstances and experience, certain requirements have been waived."
T'Pol accepted the PADD, scanning its contents quickly. "This is acceptable."
"Additionally," Picard continued, "Starfleet Science Division has expressed particular interest in debriefing you regarding your experiences with time travel and dimensional travel. Your unique perspective spans centuries of Federation development."
"I am prepared to share my knowledge," T'Pol said.
"Captain, has Starfleet determined T'Pol's posting after her commission is formalized?" Riker asked.
"As Tyson is her link to the present, she has been assigned under his direct command, just like Ensign Ro," Picard replied. "Which brings us back to the mission parameters." He activated the display screen on the wall, showing a rotating image of Nervala IV. "The distortion field that prevented transport during the evacuation appears to have windows in regular eight-year cycles. According to our calculations, we're approximately five years away from the next clearing."
"The field should pose no obstacle to Tyson's portals," Riker said. "Just like on Aldea, we'll be able to enter and exit regardless of the distortion."
"Precisely why Starfleet approved this mission," Picard confirmed. "The research data collected at the outpost pertained to subspace field dynamics, potentially valuable information for improving our sensor technology."
"What was the original evacuation timeline?" T'Pol asked.
"Less than thirty minutes from detection of the forming distortion field to complete evacuation," Riker answered. "We prioritized personnel safety over equipment and data retrieval."
Tyson nodded. "Makes sense. Any idea where specifically we should focus our search once we're there?"
"The main research lab," Riker said, pointing to a section of the outpost schematic that appeared on screen. "That's where the primary data cores would have been stored. Secondary targets would be the sensor array control room and the field monitoring station."
"How long do you anticipate the mission will take?" Picard asked.
Riker considered. "No more than six hours, sir. We'll need time to locate the relevant equipment, assess its condition, and determine what can be salvaged."
"Very well." Picard stood, signaling the end of the briefing. "You're authorized to depart. Lieutenant Commander Data will assist with the technical aspects of data retrieval. Ensign Ro will assist as you see fit."
"Will we require environmental suits?" T'Pol inquired.
"The atmosphere is breathable. Standard away team equipment should suffice."
Picard nodded. "I expect regular check-ins every two hours. If you experience any difficulties, inform the Enterprise immediately."
"Understood, sir," Riker acknowledged.
"Lieutenant T'Pol," Picard added, "consider this your first official mission under your new commission. Welcome back to Starfleet."
T'Pol rose. "Thank you, Captain. I shall endeavor to serve with distinction."
"I've no doubt of that. Dismissed."
The away team gathered in Transporter Room 2, equipment packs slung over their shoulders and tricorders secured at their hips. Tyson glanced around at the assembled group, T'Pol, Riker, Data, and Ensign Ro, all prepared for their unusual expedition.
"I like that we're leaving from the transporter room, even though we're not using the transporter," Tyson remarked.
Riker's lips quirked into a half-smile. "I'll make a note. Maybe we should leave from the brig or sickbay when the mission parameters call for it."
Tyson gave him a thumbs-up. "Seems like everyone's ready when you are, Commander." He said, passing him the Access Key and Portal Control Rod.
Riker nodded and stepped forward, focusing his concentration. He extended his hand. The air before him shimmered, then parted like a curtain, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. The portal's edges glowed with a subtle blue luminescence.
Data went through first, followed by Ro and T'Pol. Tyson gave Riker an encouraging nod before stepping through himself. Riker then followed his team. They emerged into what appeared to be a research facility. The lights were functioning at minimal power. The floor was clean, the consoles appeared operational, and there was none of the expected disarray from a hasty evacuation.
Riker frowned, scanning the room. "This is different from what I remember. The place was a mess when we left."
Data's attention was fixed on his tricorder readings.
"Someone was here," Riker said, moving toward a workstation that showed signs of recent use.
Ro circled the perimeter. "A ship could have been caught in the distortion field and crashed. The survivors may have taken refuge here."
"Commander," Data interjected more urgently. "Someone is approaching. A humanoid. Forty meters due east and closing."
Riker signaled silently, and the team took up defensive positions around the room. Tyson and T'Pol moved to flank the eastern entrance, phasers drawn but set to stun. Data positioned himself behind a console with a clear line of sight to the door, while Ro crouched behind a storage container.
The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. A figure in tattered clothing stepped through, freezing at the sight of the away team. The dim lighting couldn't obscure what was immediately apparent to everyone in the room, the newcomer was Riker's identical twin.
Both Rikers stared at each other in stunned silence.
"Who are you?" Riker finally demanded, phaser still raised.
The newcomer's expression mirrored Riker's confusion. "Who are you?"
"I'm Commander William Riker from the Federation Starship Enterprise."
The second Riker shook his head in disbelief. "That's not possible. I'm Will Riker."
Data stepped forward, tricorder still scanning. "May I ask how you got here?"
"Three years ago, I led a team to evacuate this station," the second Riker explained, his voice identical to the commander's.
Riker lowered his phaser slightly. "What ship were you on?"
"The Potemkin."
Data tilted his head. "Why did you not return to the Potemkin with the others?"
The second Riker ran a hand through his unkempt beard. "I was the last one out. The distortion field must have interfered with the transport. They lost their signal lock on me. When I tried to contact the ship, I couldn't get through the interference. If you check with Starfleet, I'm sure they will have recorded that I was lost on that day."
"That's not what happened," Riker countered. "I was the last one out, and I made it back to the Potemkin."
The second Riker's shoulders sagged slightly. "You don't believe me?"
"It's not that we don't believe you," Riker said, holstering his phaser. "It's just hard to see how both stories could be true." He hesitated, studying his double. "Would you be willing to have our doctor check you out?"
"Of course," the second Riker agreed readily.
Riker turned to Tyson with a wry smile. "You were right. Maybe we should've left from Sickbay."
Tyson laughed. "All good, Commander. I'll take him to Dr. Crusher to look him over and make sure he's not a salt vampire or something. You can remain here and gather the data. With three of us who can open portals, there's no sense in leaving it behind."
The second Riker looked between them with evident confusion. "Portals?"
"I'll explain on the way," Tyson said, stepping forward. He extended his hand, creating another portal. Through the shimmering opening, the sterile environment of the Enterprise's sickbay was visible.
The second Riker stared in amazement. "That's... impossible."
"You'll find we do impossible things on the regular," Tyson quipped. "After you."
With a last uncertain glance at Riker, his double stepped through the portal. Tyson followed, emerging into the bright lights of sickbay where Dr. Crusher was reviewing patient files.
She looked up, startled by their sudden appearance, her eyes widening at the sight of the discheveled Riker.
"Doctor," Tyson said with a casual wave, "we have an interesting situation. Meet Will Riker, stranded on Nervala IV for the past three years, while our Will Riker has been serving on the Enterprise. We need you to verify he's human and possibly explain how there can be two identical Rikers."
— Star Jumper —
The man who looked exactly like Will Riker shifted uncomfortably on the biobed.
Picard stepped forward. "Jean-Luc Picard."
"Lieutenant Will Riker," the man replied.
"I hope you understand our need to verify your claim."
"Yes, sir."
Crusher looked up from her tricorder. "Genetically, he's indistinguishable from Commander Riker."
"Could there be some sort of cloning involved here?" Picard asked.
"I don't think so. There's no genetic drift."
"But it's not conclusive."
"That's why I compared their brain scans," Crusher explained. "Brain organization patterns are as unique as fingerprints. Except for minor, minor differences, theirs are identical."
Picard frowned. "But can't brain patterns be cloned?"
"No. They're determined by experience, mostly from early childhood."
"How can two grown men share the same childhood experiences? It just doesn't make any sense."
The second Riker sat up straighter. "I am Will Riker. I don't know who or what made it back to the Potemkin that day, but it wasn't me."
"Lieutenant, our Chief Engineer is checking the transport logs of the Potemkin. Perhaps that will shed some light on the matter." Picard's tone softened slightly. "Don't worry, we will get to the bottom of this. And in the meantime, you will be taken to your quarters. Try to make yourself as comfortable as possible."
"I will. The replicators on the station haven't worked for a long time. It's been a while since I've had a decent meal." He nodded respectfully. "Doctor."
The Lieutenant followed Tyson through the corridors of the Enterprise, his eyes taking in every detail of the ship. Crew members passed by, some glancing curiously at the second Riker. The turbolift ride passed in silence, the lieutenant seemingly lost in thought. When they reached the appropriate deck, Tyson led him down the corridor to the guest quarters. The door slid open with a soft hiss.
"I had quarters like this when I first arrived on the Enterprise," he said as they entered. "Once they made me an officer, they had me in the lower decks." He snorted. "Fat chance of that."
The lieutenant paused, studying Tyson with interest. "So you're a new enlistment to Starfleet?"
"Something like that."
"How do you do the portal thing?" Riker asked.
Tyson leaned against the wall. "That's a long story that you're missing context about. You don't even know who Q is."
At Riker's confused look, Tyson continued, "Don't worry about it too much. I can open portals. Those who work with me can too. But focus on yourself for now. You've missed a few years, just relax and try to reacclimate to being around people. Your harrowing trial is over now."
The lieutenant walked to the viewport, staring out at the stars. "Three years," he murmured. "Three years alone on that station."
"Must have been rough," Tyson said, moving to stand beside him. "I've spent time isolated before, but nothing compared to what you went through."
"You adapt. You find ways to keep your mind occupied." The lieutenant turned from the window. "The hardest part was the silence. No voices. No communication. Just the sound of the station creaking and my own thoughts."
"Well, you won't have to worry about silence here. This ship is full of people who never shut up." Tyson smiled. "Including the other you."
The lieutenant's expression darkened. "He's not me."
"No, he's not," Tyson agreed, surprising the man. "You've both had different experiences that shaped you into different people. You share the same past up to a point, but you're not the same person anymore."
The lieutenant considered this. "You sound like you understand more than most would."
"Let's just say I've seen enough weird stuff." Tyson gestured toward the replicator. "You should try that out. Get yourself something to eat. Real food, not the emergency rations you've been living on."
The lieutenant approached the replicator cautiously. "Computer, scrambled eggs with bacon and sourdough toast. And coffee, black."
The items materialized on a tray. The lieutenant picked up the fork, took a bite of the eggs, and closed his eyes. "God, I've missed this."
Tyson moved toward the door. "I'll leave you to enjoy your meal. If you need anything, just ask the computer. It can direct you or contact someone to help."
"Thank you." The lieutenant set down his coffee cup.
"Get some rest, Lieutenant."
— Star Jumper —
The observation lounge doors slid open as Tyson entered. Captain Picard sat at the head of the table, with Commander Riker to his right and Dr. Crusher to his left. Data and LaForge completed the gathering, all of them turning to acknowledge Tyson's arrival.
"Commander, please join us," Picard said, gesturing to an empty chair.
Tyson took his seat, noting the serious expressions around the table. The topic of discussion was obviously their unexpected guest.
LaForge began explaining, "Apparently, there was a massive energy surge in the distortion field around the planet just at the moment you tried to beam out. The Transporter Chief tried to compensate by initiating a second containment beam."
"An interesting approach," Data commented. "He must have been planning to reintegrate the two patterns in the transport buffer."
"Actually, it wasn't really necessary," LaForge continued. "Commander Riker's pattern maintained its integrity with just the one containment beam. He made it back to the ship just fine."
Crusher frowned slightly. "What happened to the second beam?"
"The Transporter Chief shut it down, but somehow it was reflected back to the surface." LaForge's fingers tapped lightly on the table as he spoke.
"And another William Riker materialized there," Picard concluded.
Riker shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the implications. "How was the second pattern able to maintain its integrity?"
"The containment beam must have had the exact same phase differential as the distortion field," LaForge explained.
Riker looked troubled. "Which one of them is real?"
"That's the thing," LaForge replied. "Both. You were both materialized from a complete pattern."
"Up until that moment, you were the same person," Crusher added.
"But of course, as you and Lieutenant Riker have lived very different lives for the past three years, you are now very different people. I suppose it's a little like meeting someone's twin." Picard paused, "But no matter how strange it may seem to us, we now have two Will Rikers on board. And as Lieutenant Riker will be with us for several days, I think we should do everything we can to make him comfortable and welcome."
Tyson observed Riker's reaction. The commander maintained his composure, but the subtle tension in his shoulders revealed his discomfort with the situation.
Data tilted his head slightly. "Additionally, the computer on the station was not completely operational. Many of its components had been removed. Apparently, Lieutenant Riker used them to keep the station's radiation shield running. Without the time constraints, which likely would have made retrieval impossible, we managed to acquire the information."
"Well done, everyone," Picard nodded approvingly. "I'm hesitant to let him go back to duties until he's been evaluated. Counselor Troi should be returning shortly."
Tyson cleared his throat. "Captain, if I may. I spent some time with Lieutenant Riker yesterday. He seems stable, considering his circumstances, but there's an undercurrent of resentment there. Particularly toward Commander Riker."
"That's understandable," Crusher interjected. "From his perspective, he's the original Will Riker who was abandoned on that station for three years while someone else lived his life."
"Exactly," Tyson agreed. "And while I'm no counselor, I'd suggest giving him space to process that. He's spent years in isolation, and now he's surrounded by people who know a version of him that he's never been."
Riker frowned. "You make it sound like I'm an impostor."
"Not at all, Commander," Tyson replied calmly. "You're both equally Will Riker. But you've had three years of experiences he hasn't had, and he's had three years of isolation you haven't experienced. Those differences matter."
Picard nodded thoughtfully. "A fair assessment. What would you suggest?"
"Let him reintegrate gradually. Don't rush him into social situations or duties. And perhaps most importantly, don't treat him like he's a copy of Commander Riker. He needs to establish his own identity now."
"I agree with Commander Tyson," Data said. "The psychological impact of discovering one's existence has essentially been duplicated would be significant for any human."
LaForge looked at Riker. "Will, how are you handling all this?"
Riker took a moment before answering. "Honestly? It's unsettling. Looking at him is like looking into a mirror that shows the past. I remember being that person. Back then, I was more reckless, ambitious, and had something to prove. But I'm not him anymore."
"And he's not you," Crusher added gently.
"What about his career?" Tyson asked. "Technically, he's still a Lieutenant who was on a valid assignment. Does Starfleet have protocols for this situation?"
Picard shook his head. "There are no precedents for this particular circumstance. I've already contacted Starfleet Command. They're... deliberating. In the meantime, we'll treat Lieutenant Riker as we would any officer recovering from a traumatic experience. Dr. Crusher, I'd like you to continue monitoring his physical condition. Once Counselor Troi returns, she'll begin a psychological evaluation. Commander, I understand this is a unique and potentially difficult situation for you. If you need to discuss it further, my door is always open."
Riker nodded. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate that."
"Captain," Tyson said, "with your permission, I'd like to continue spending time with Lieutenant Riker. He seems to respond well to me."
Picard considered this. "Very well. But keep me informed of any concerns."
"Of course, sir. I want to bring him to my Personal Reality. I have a Counseling facility which he could attend since Counselor Troi is unavailable."
Riker's eyebrows rose slightly.
Tyson hesitated before continuing. "I don't want to overstep, but I know there's history between you and Counselor Troi." He addressed Commander Riker directly. "It may even be beneficial to have a neutral party. The Counseling Bay isn't as effective as the Medical Bay in expediting treatment, but over time, it can be just as effective when it comes to results."
Picard turned to his First Officer. "Number One, your thoughts?"
Riker leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I'm not sure how I feel about this. The lieutenant and I may share the same past, but we're different people now." He paused, considering his words carefully. "That said, I can see the benefit of him speaking with someone who doesn't have preconceptions about who Will Riker is or should be."
Dr. Crusher nodded approvingly. "From a medical perspective, a controlled reintroduction to social interaction would be beneficial. Three years of isolation is bound to have psychological effects. If this facility is half as effective as the Medical Bay, I approve."
Picard tapped his fingers against the table, weighing the options. "Very well. Commander Tyson, you have my permission to use your Counseling facility to assist Lieutenant Riker." He turned to Commander Riker. "I'd like you to accompany them for the first session, to ensure everything is appropriate and to provide a report."
"Understood, Captain," Riker replied, though his expression remained guarded.
"If I may, sir," Tyson added, "I think it would be beneficial for Lieutenant Riker to have some agency in this decision. He's been without choices for three years. Giving him some control over his rehabilitation might help."
Picard nodded. "A valid point. Speak with him, present the option, but make it clear that it is his choice."
"Thank you, Captain." Tyson stood. "I'll approach him today."
"Dismissed."
As the meeting broke up, Tyson found himself walking alongside Commander Riker in the corridor.
"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but this situation is complicated."
"This is a unique challenge. He's you, but he's not. And you're him, but you're not. That's a hell of an identity crisis."
Riker studied him for a moment. "Alright. When do we start?"
"I'll speak with the lieutenant first. If he agrees, we can begin this afternoon."
"I'll be there," Riker said, then added, "And Tyson? Thank you."
Tyson nodded and continued down the corridor. He found Lieutenant Riker in his quarters, standing at the viewport again.
"Lieutenant," Tyson called softly, not wanting to startle him.
The man turned. "Commander Tyson. Come in."
Tyson stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. "How are you settling in?"
"As well as can be expected." The lieutenant gestured around the room. "It's strange. Everything feels familiar and foreign at the same time."
"I can imagine. I've spoken with Captain Picard about your situation. We'd like to offer you some assistance with your reintegration."
The lieutenant's eyes narrowed slightly. "What kind of assistance?"
"I have access to a specialized facility designed for psychological counseling. It's in what I call my Personal Reality, a controlled environment where we can work at your pace."
"A holodeck program?"
"More advanced than that, but similar in concept. The important thing is that it would be private, controlled, and tailored specifically to your needs."
"And who would be conducting these sessions?"
"They're automated, primarily. Commander Riker would attend the first session, at the captain's request, but after that, it would just be you."
"Him?" The lieutenant's voice hardened. "Why?"
"The captain wants his First Officer to verify that everything is appropriate. Personally, I don't think it's a bad idea. Things between you are likely to be tense given the circumstances." Tyson paused, watching the lieutenant's reaction. "But this is entirely your choice. If you're not comfortable with it, we can find another approach."
The lieutenant paced the room, considering. "You said this is a private environment, and after the first session, he wouldn't be there?"
"Right."
The lieutenant was quiet for a long moment. "Alright. I'll try it."
"Good." Tyson smiled. "We'll start this afternoon, if that works for you."
"It's not like I have other plans," the lieutenant replied with a hint of dry humor.
"I'll come get you at 1400 hours. And Lieutenant? Thank you for trusting me with this."
The lieutenant nodded. "You're the first person who's treated me like I'm not just a copy or a mystery to solve. I appreciate that."
"All good." Tyson moved toward the door. "Try to rest until then. The first session might be emotionally taxing."
At 1400 hours, he arrived back at Lieutenant Riker's quarters. The lieutenant was ready, dressed in a fresh uniform, his beard neatly trimmed. Though his appearance mirrored Commander Riker's, minus the fact that Commander Riker didn't have a beard, the more subtle differences were becoming more apparent. A certain wariness in his eyes, and a tension in his shoulders that spoke of years spent in constant vigilance.
"Ready?" Tyson asked.
"As I'll ever be," the lieutenant replied.
They walked in silence to Tyson's quarters, where Commander Riker was already waiting, his expression carefully neutral. The two Rikers acknowledged each other with curt nods, neither quite meeting the other's eyes.
"Gentlemen," Tyson said, "I appreciate both of you being here. Before we begin, I want to establish some ground rules. This is a therapeutic environment, not an interrogation or a competition. The goal is healing, not comparison."
Both Rikers nodded their agreement.
Tyson approached the wall of his quarters and placed his palm against it. A shimmering portal materialized, revealing a warm, inviting space beyond. "After you," he said.
The lieutenant paused momentarily before stepping through, followed by Commander Riker and finally Tyson. The portal closed behind them.
They found themselves in a spacious room with large windows overlooking a serene island landscape. Comfortable seating was arranged in a circle, with a small table in the center holding a carafe of water and several glasses.
"Welcome to the Counseling Bay," Tyson said. The air shimmered briefly, and a holographic woman appeared. She was middle-aged with silver-streaked dark hair pulled back in a simple knot, wearing civilian clothes rather than a Starfleet uniform. Her face held the kind of wisdom that came from years of experience, with laugh lines around her eyes and a gentle, observant expression.
"Good afternoon," she said, her voice warm and measured. "You may call me Dr. Melfi. Please, make yourselves comfortable."
The three men took seats, with Tyson positioning himself between the two Rikers.
"I examined the reports around your unique situation. Before we begin, I want to acknowledge that while I have been programmed with extensive knowledge, your experience is unprecedented. I'm not here to determine which of you is the 'real' William Riker, because that question itself is fundamentally flawed. You are both equally real, with equal claim to your shared past and equal right to your individual futures."
Commander Riker leaned forward slightly. "Doctor, with all due respect, how can a holographic program understand what we're experiencing?"
"I don't claim to understand it fully," Dr. Melfi replied without defensiveness. "My purpose is not to understand your experience completely, but to help you understand it yourselves and navigate its implications."
Lieutenant Riker spoke up. "And how exactly do you propose to do that?"
"By creating a safe space for both of you to explore your feelings about this situation. By helping you establish boundaries and identities that honor your shared past while acknowledging your separate presents and futures." She folded her hands in her lap. "Let's start with something simple. How would you each like to be addressed during these sessions?"
The two men looked at each other.
"I've been Commander Riker for three years now," the commander said.
"And I've been alone for three years," the lieutenant countered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "No one has called me anything."
Dr. Melfi nodded. "Lieutenant, what would you prefer to be called?"
He considered for a moment. "Thomas."
"And Commander?"
"Will or Riker is fine. But Thomas? Our middle name? I guess we really are different. I never really cared for that name."
"Well, I sort of like it," Thomas replied.
"Very well," Dr. Melfi said. "Thomas and Riker it is, for the purposes of these sessions. Now, I'd like each of you to describe, in your own words, how you feel about this situation. Thomas, would you like to begin?"
Thomas took a deep breath. "Angry. Confused. Cheated." He glanced at Riker. "I look at him, and I see everything I should have had. The promotion, the service on the Enterprise, and the relationships with the crew. While I was stranded, fighting to survive each day, he was living my life."
Riker's jaw tightened, but he remained silent.
"Thank you for your honesty," Dr. Melfi said. "Riker, your perspective?"
"Unsettled," Riker admitted. "It's like looking at a version of myself from the past, but not quite. And there's guilt, too. Not because I did anything wrong, but because I had opportunities he didn't." He met Thomas' eyes directly for the first time. "I didn't know you existed. If I had, I would have come back for you."
"Would you?" Thomas challenged. "Or would you have been afraid of what it meant for your career, your identity?"
"That's not fair," Riker said, his voice hardening.
"Isn't it? We're the same person, or we were. I know exactly how ambitious you are, how focused on your career. Would you really have risked everything for someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a duplicate?"
Tyson intervened. "This is exactly the kind of honest dialogue we need, but let's maintain respect. You both have valid feelings and perspectives."
Dr. Melfi nodded. "Tyson is right. Thomas, your anger is understandable. Riker, so is your discomfort. These are natural responses to an unnatural situation."
She leaned forward slightly. "The question now is not what happened or who's to blame, it's what happens next. You both exist. You both have rights, identities, and futures. How do you move forward from here?"
The room fell silent as both men considered this.
"I don't know," Thomas finally admitted. "I haven't thought about the future in a long time."
"And now you have to," she said gently. "What do you want, Thomas? Not what you wanted three years ago, but what do you want now?"
Thomas looked out the window at the mountains. "I want to be more than just a copy, a duplicate, a mistake of technology. I want my own life, my own path." He turned back to face them. "I want to be recognized as my own person."
"You are," Tyson said firmly. "No one here sees you as just a copy."
Riker nodded in agreement. "Whatever happens next, you have every right to forge your own path."
"Easy for you to say," Thomas replied, though some of the edge had left his voice. "You already have everything we once wanted."
"Not everything," Will mumbled.
Dr. Melfi interjected. "Perhaps that's something to explore in our next session, how your goals and desires might have changed based on your different experiences. For now, I think we've made a good start by acknowledging the complexity of your situation and beginning to establish separate identities."
She looked at Tyson. "Would you like to continue, or shall we conclude for today?"
Tyson glanced between the two Rikers, noting the emotional fatigue beginning to show on both their faces. "I think this is a good place to stop for now. We've established a foundation we can build on."
Dr. Melfi nodded. "Very well. Thomas, Riker, thank you both for your participation today. I look forward to our continued work together."
As the hologram disappeared, the three men sat in silence for a moment.
"That was... helpful," Thomas finally said, surprising both Tyson and Will.
"I'm glad you think so," Tyson replied. "This is just the beginning, but it's a start."
Will stood, extending his hand to Thomas. "For what it's worth, I meant what I said. You have every right to your own path forward."
Episode: Star Trek The Next Generation - Second Chances Complete!
+100 RP
Reality Points: 950
— Star Jumper —
Tyson and Commander Riker returned to the bridge, stepping out of the turbolift.
Worf glanced up from his console. "Routine deep sensor probe indicates no obstacles or vessels within a range of three light years."
"Confirm," Tasha replied, her fingers dancing across her tactical display.
Worf shifted his weight, his voice dropping slightly. "The martial arts competition is in three days. Are you prepared?"
Tasha's lips curved into a confident smile. "I will be if you'll meet me on the holodeck later. I need your help with the Mishiama wrist-lock and break. If it works on you, I can use it on anyone."
"A valid assumption. Who is your first competitor?"
"Science Officer Swenson."
"You will defeat him easily."
Tasha shook her head. "I'm more concerned with Lieutenant Minnerly's kick boxing."
"You are favoured in the ship's pool."
"You bet on me?" Tasha asked, surprise evident in her voice.
"A sure thing." Worf stated flatly.
"Why not Commander Tyson?"
Tyson leaned against the console. "I didn't enter. With my abilities, it isn't sporting."
LaForge swiveled in his chair. "Captain, estimated rendezvous with the shuttle in one hour and ten minutes."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Picard acknowledged from his command chair.
"Aye, sir," LaForge responded.
Picard glanced at his first officer. "It'll be good to have Counsellor Troi back, won't it, Number One?"
"It certainly will," Riker replied, unable to hide the anticipation in his voice.
Worf suddenly straightened. "Sir, I'm receiving an emergency transmission from the shuttle."
Picard stood immediately. "On main viewer."
"I can't, sir," Tasha reported, working her controls. "We're receiving audio only."
"Open the frequency."
"What a jolt!" Prieto's voice came through, strained and urgent.
"Position report," Riker requested.
"Sir, I have an onboard systems failure," Prieto responded. "You'll have to tell me where I am."
LaForge consulted his readings. "I read your coordinates at three seven zero point two three six. Confirm."
"I can't confirm. My instruments are haywire."
"Lieutenant Prieto, is Counselor Troi all right?" Picard asked.
"Yes, sir. Just a little shaken. We're being buffeted a bit." A crash sounded through the comm. "Losing more power! My flight control computer's fried."
Picard tapped his combadge. "Main Engineering."
"Lieutenant Commander Leland T. Lynch here, sir," came the response.
"How long before we can return to warp power?"
Lynch's voice carried frustration. "Captain, I'm in the middle of realigning the dilithium crystals."
"There is an emergency. We need warp drive. How long?"
"Twenty minutes. Maybe more."
Picard's jaw tightened. "We don't have it, Mister Lynch."
"I'll align it by hand."
"Whatever it takes."
"Aye, sir."
LaForge leaned toward his console. "Shuttle, this is the Enterprise. Your coordinates now read two three seven point one zero one. Ben, you're dangerously close to a planet."
"I can see it," Prieto confirmed.
Data consulted his readouts. "The planet is Vagra Two, sir. Uninhabited."
"Lieutenant, report!" Picard demanded.
Troi's voice replaced Prieto's. "This is Counsellor Troi. I'll relay, sir. The pilot is busy. We've lost most of our impulse power."
"Engineering, status report."
Lynch sounded breathless. "Working on it, Captain. Six minutes. But there are no guarantees."
"Captain, we're out of control," Prieto cut in. "We're caught in the planet's gravity."
Tyson spoke up, "Sir, I have a shuttle I can use to arrive quicker."
Picard nodded sharply. "Go. Worf, Tasha, Riker, Data, LaForge, assist."
Without hesitation, Tyson raised his hand and opened a shimmering portal directly into the Iconic Interceptor. The officers followed him through, finding themselves in the interior of the vessel docked within his Personal Reality.
"Everyone, take your seats and secure yourselves," Tyson instructed as he moved to the pilot's chair.
The team efficiently took their positions, strapping in as Tyson opened another portal, this one revealing the blackness of space near the Enterprise. The ship hummed to life around them.
"Vicky, take us through," Tyson commanded.
"Acknowledged," Vicky responded in place of the familiar voice of the computer controlling the vessel through the ship's AI Core. "Portal transit in three, two, one..."
The Interceptor glided smoothly through the portal, emerging into real space. The stars stretched momentarily as Tyson activated the Inertialess Drive.
"Hold on," he warned as the ship accelerated to impossible speeds.
Data monitored their position. "Approaching Vagra Two at exceptional velocity. Arrival in approximately 3.4 seconds."
The planet grew to fill their viewscreen in the blink of an eye. The Interceptor decelerated smoothly, settling into orbit around the harsh, barren world.
"Scanning for the shuttle," LaForge reported, fingers working the sensor controls. His face fell. "I'm picking up the shuttle's emergency beacon. It's already down."
Riker leaned forward. "Can you get a fix on their position?"
"Yes, Commander. I have their crash coordinates."
Worf studied the tactical display. "Life signs?"
"Two signatures," Tasha confirmed. "They're alive."
Tyson frowned as he studied the planet's surface on the viewscreen. The shuttle had crashed on a desolate plain, its hull breached and smoking. The barren landscape surrounding it looked uninviting. But it was more than that. A sense of perverse wrongness radiated from the planet.
"Prepare for atmospheric entry," he ordered. "We'll set down as close to the crash site as possible."
"Surface conditions?" Riker asked.
Data consulted his readings. "Atmosphere is breathable but thin. Temperature is within human tolerance range. No immediate environmental hazards detected near the crash site."
Tyson guided the Interceptor down through the atmosphere, the ship's advanced systems compensating for the turbulence automatically. As they descended, the full extent of the shuttle's damage became apparent; its hull was cracked open like an egg, with debris scattered across the rocky ground.
"That doesn't look good," LaForge murmured.
The Interceptor touched down fifty meters from the crashed shuttle.