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Kaleidoscope -- rated T for language and some violence

MikeJaffa

Lieutenant Junior Grade
Red Shirt
TITLE: Kaleidoscope
AUTHOR: Mikejaffa
SYNOPSIS: Reality is falling apart around Mariner. What does her new girlfriend have to do with it?
DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is owned by Paramount/CBS. I am making no money off this fic. And although this is not a crossover, this fic contains pastiches of elements of Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda, Battlestar Galactica, and Babylon 5.
AUTHOR’s NOTE: Since 2017, the writers and producers of “Nu Trek” have written their shows on the premise that everything except the Kelvin movies are in the same timeline. It’s not a perfect solution, but it is the simplest, and I subscribe to it. I want to get that out of the way before anyone comments.

8

8

8

8

“So, what’s all this, then?” Lieutenant Junior Grade Genie Lemaj said as she came up behind Lieutenant J. G. Beckett Mariner in their cabin’s bathroom and snaked her arms around her human lover’s waste. Genie was Mariner’s height with light blue skin and white, waste length hair with a black streak running down the middle of it. Her eyes were all-white with cat-like pupils and off-white irises, but her appearance was not disconcerting. If anything, Mariner and other humans found her attractive. To accommodate the white-feathered wings sprouting from her shoulders, she wore a halter top in the colors of Starfleet’s science division.

Genie kissed Mariner’s cheek and went on, “Sleeves rolled down and hair in an approved variation of a regulation hairstyle? Who are you, and where did you dispose of my girlfriend’s body?”

Mariner smiled at their reflections in the sink mirror. She said, “I just don’t feel like being that big a jerk today is all.”

“Or you know I just love a woman in uniform.” She planted more kisses on Mariner’s neck. “Why don’t we skip work and just stay here? You and me?”

“Nope, no—no--noooooo.” Mariner turned around in Genie’s arm and gave her a quick kiss. “We have bridge duty today.” Her tone, while light, indicated she had put her foot down.

Genie said with mock resignation, “Oh, all right, if you insist.”

“Good.” She took Genie’s hand. “Now let’s get some breakfast.”

8

8

In the bar, Mariner and Genie got breakfast trays from the replicator and took their seats in a booth. They had just started eating when Boimler and Rutherford came over to them with their trays.

Boimler and Rutherford were scrutinizing Mariner with narrowed eyes.

Rutherford tapped a control on his implant. “No changeling DNA detected.”

“What about an android?” Boimler asked.

“No, they can’t fake vital signs that well.”

“Come on guys,” Mariner said, “it’s me.”

Rutherford and Boimler relaxed as they sat in the booth. Boimler said, “Relaxed, happy, and uniform to regulation? We just want to be sure.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Boims,” Mariner said. “That means you care. Thank you so much. Now, knock it off before this fork somehow ends up five millimeters into your left eyeball.”

Boimler relaxed. “Oh, thank God, there you are.”

Ensign Barnes was walking past the booth and paused. “Hey, Mariner. You have bridge duty today?”

“Yep. See you upstairs?”

“Right. And we’re good, right?”

“’Course.”

Barnes’s smile didn’t fade. “Good.” She took a seat in the booth behind Mariner with other ops officers.

Mariner said, “Why do people keep asking me that?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Boimler said, “you’ve been so relaxed the last few weeks, maybe people are waiting for you to snap and go on a killing spree, and they want to make sure you don’t have a grudge against them.”

Mariner chuckled. “Oh, come on, Boims. You of all people should know I don’t carry grudges.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. I have no surviving enemies. None at all.”

“What did you call it when I went to the *Titan*?”

“I was just a little irked.”

“For a month. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mariner turned at a motion in the corner of her eye and her eyes widened. “Holy crap—T’Lyn? What did you do with your hair?”

T’Lyn raised an eyebrow. “My hair?” T’Lyn’s hair was radically different from…just the day before. Her hair went down to her waste, parts of it braided. Not a Vulcan hairstyle at all. “What of it?” T’Lyn asked.

“What do you--” Mariner squeezed her eyes shut and looked again. T’Lyn’s hair was back to its normal style, short with a blue head band.

T’lyn squeezed into the booth. “Is something wrong?” She started eating.

Mariner started, “I don’t--” Her stomach did a flip flop and everything seemed blurry. The starfield out the window jerked as if the ship were going through a roll and then stopped.

Or had she thought it had rolled?

“What the--” Mariner said, “did anyone else feel that?”

Boimler looked up at her. “Feel what?”

Mariner looked around. She turned and got on her knees on her seat, facing the booth behind her. “Hey, Barnes. Barnes?”

Barnes turned around and looked over her shoulder. “What?”

“Anything…weird happen with the *Cerritos* just now?”

“Like what?”

“Like, I dunno, attitude control thrusters misfired or something?”

Barnes shook her head. “I didn’t feel anything.”

“We have inertial dampers. You wouldn’t.”

Barnes picked her PADD and tabbed through options. “No, no weird thruster activity in the last few minutes. Cerri is flying straight and true.”

“‘Cerri’?” Mariner asked.

“My nickname for the *Cerritos,*” Barnes explained. “I heard Billups say it and it stuck.” She went through more options on the PADD. “No, no, nothing on the thrusters, guidance system in the green.”

“Well…ok, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Mariner turned around and sat down.

Rutherford said, “You know, when we get to engineering, Tindi and I…I mean, I and ask Billups to run a diagnostic on the attitude control system--”

“No, Rutherford,” Mariner said, “it’s ok. I don’t want to be too much trouble.”

Boimler said, “You know, you do look a little rocky.”

Genie smiled and put a hand on Mariner’s arm. “I’m afraid it’s my fault. We didn’t get a lot of sleep last--”

“Ah, there you are,” Jack Ransom said as he came over to the booth. “Lieutenants Junior grade…grades…or whatever. Good. All here so we can cover this before you check your PADDs. Lieutenant Lemaj. You’re standing a watch in Cetacean Ops.”

“With Mariner, right?” Genie asked.

“No,” Ransom said. “She still has Con duty on the bridge.”

“Yes, um…” Genie stammered. “Commander Ransom, I request I have my original assignment on the bridge.”

“Request denied, Lieutenant Lemaj.” Ransom softened. “Don’t worry, when your shifts are over, no one would dream of keeping you two love birds apart…no pun intended.” Then he focused on Mariner. “You all right, Mariner?”

“Yeah, Jack. Genie and I were just…a little busy last night.”

“Yeah, Mariner,” Ransom said, “everybody on the ship knows, and I think we’re still getting noise complaints from the Dominion home world in the Gamma Quadrant. And we’re good, right?”

Mariner tilted her head to the side. “Yes we are, Jaaaaaack.”

“Oh, good, there you are. See you up top.” He turned away from the boost.

Mariner turned to Boimler. “Boims, why does everyone treat me like a psycho?”

“Because you’re a psycho?”

“Well, yeah, Boims, but it comes from a place of love.”

8

8

Mariner slid down the Jeffries tube ladder and onto the deck. She walked down the deck, turned the corner, and pushed open the heavy door into the Combat Information Center. As always, Jack Ransom, Doctor T’Ana, and Captain Freeman were shuffling papers and studying charts on the table in the middle of the amphitheater-like room. Officers manned the surrounding consoles, and a cluster of screens above the table presented information. Freeman picked a wired telephone built into the table.

Mariner said, “Mom?”

“Mariner?” Lieutenant Levy said.

Mariner blinked. She was just inside the door of the *Cerritos’s* auxiliary control room. It was just as it had always been—captain’s chair, consoles for the XO and the officer in the third seat, Con and Ops consoles, weapons console behind the captain’s chair, view screen on the front wall. Levy was sitting at the Con console, on duty in case command had to be transferred here. It was just as it had always been—no table in the center, no surrounding consoles, no wired telephones.

Telephones?

Marriner glanced behind her at the door, a normal Starfleet sliding door. Why had she thought it had been hinged and she’d had to push it open?

“What are you doing here?” Levy asked.

“What?” Mariner said. “no, I’m fine, I took a wrong turn, shut up.” She hurried out before Levy could say anything more.

When she got to the bridge, Mariner froze just inside the elevator door. The bridge looked normal, and Freeman, Ransom, and T’Ana were in the three command chairs. Barnes was already in her place at the Ops station. But instead of a main viewscreen, there was a huge window at the front of the room. A cyhlindrical mass of modules extended from the top of the window to a point ahead of them. It was slowly turning, and the stars were turning with it…

No, Mariner realized, that would be the view in a ship which had a section that used rotation for artificial gravity! But the Cerritos didn’t have that. No Starfleet ship did.

But Mariner couldn’t help herself. She breathed, “What?”

Freeman looked over her shoulder. “What? You ok, sweetie?”

Mariner’s gaze shifted from the…window to her mother and back…

…to the main viewscreen, the same viewscreen that had always been there.

“I don’t…I’m sorry.” Mariner hustled down to the Con station and took her seat.

The turbolift hissed open and Genie came onto the bridge. “Reporting for duty.”

Ransom turned in his chair. “Lieutenant, you were assigned to Cetacean Ops.”

“No, Commander, I have duty on the bridge. Sorry I’m late.”

Ransom picked up his PADD. “No, you’re….” his certainty vanished as he read the PADD. “You have a shift on the bridge. Huh. Must have confused you with somebody else. Station, Lieutenant.”

Genie nodded and went to a rear station.

Captain Freeman said, “Well, if that’s all the weirdness for this morning…Lieutenant Mariner. We have to make a quick stop at Starbase 80. But don’t worry, no one is going aboard (theoretically). Some water purification equipment meant for Sherman’s Planet was dropped there by mistake by the USS Newark.”

“That’s the New Jersey Class for you, Captain, second worst thing in Starfleet after SB80.”

“No argument, Lieutenant. We stop by fast enough for them to beam over the equipment…which I will put you in charge of because I would love to watch you tear them a new one…and then we are on our way.”

“Aye, Captain. Course laid in.” Mariner brought her hands to the hand controllers built into her seat. “Ready to go to slipstream at your discretion.”

“’Slipstream’?”

(No one noticed as Genie moved from the rear consoles down the ramp to a wall console by Con, apparently engrossed in her work.)

“Did I say slipstream?” Mariner seemed confused and noticed her hands were holding air. There were no hand controllers in her seat, of course. There never had been. Her chair at the Con station was as it had always been. And the Con console was waiting for her to enter the commands for warp drive. Of course. Just like always. “I meant warp. Of course, warp. Whenever you’re ready. Mom.”

Freeman nodded. “Ahead warp factor 6. Warp me.”

“Warp six, aye,” Mariner said, holding a smile on her face. The starfield jumped into warp drive’s “star” tunnel. “Answering warp six. Yep, we’re on our way. No problems. Steady as she goes. And just ignore the babbling fool in the pilot’s seat.”

Glances passed between Freeman, Ransom, and T’Ana. Then T’Ana rose from her seat and crossed to Mariner with a smile on her face. She slapped Mariner on the shoulder and said, “Come on. Let’s go to sickbay and have a look at you. Just to be on the safe side.”

“No, Doc, I’m fine--”

“Mariner, don’t make me make it an order. Then you’ll disobey it, and I’ll have to make a house call in the brig, and I really hate doing that. In all honesty, I don’t know why you like the brig so much.”

“Believe it or not, Doc, I get the best sleep of my life in the *Cerritos’s* brig. The acoustics in cell #2 are perfect. Still, I guess I am having an off morning.” She rose from her chair. “Lead on Doc.”

Genei said, “Captain, request permission to accompany Lieutenant Mariner to sickbay.”

Freeman nodded. Mariner and Genie followed T’Ana into the turbolift.
 
In sickbay, Genie stayed by the biobed as Doctor T’Ana and nurse Westlake examined Mariner.

Finally, as Mariner sat on the edge of the biobed, T’Ana said, “Well, Lieutenant, I can’t find anything wrong with you.”

“So, what, I’m just hallucinating?” Mariner said.

“Who knows?” T’Ana said. “You know the drill better than most of us: It could be hallucination, telepathic communication from another race, repressed memory, momentary contact with a parallel reality, take your pick. But at least I have a prescription that should rule out any mental health issues.” She handed Mariner a PADD.

Mariner read it. “Role up my sleeves and feel free to personalize my hairstyle?”

“The human brain can be freaky enough even if most humans don’t have telepathic powers than drive everyone within a thousand meters crazy,” T’Ana explained. “You’d be surprised how many physical symptoms a human can have because their fight-or-flight reflex is tricked out. Now, no one’s saying you’re not a tough little bitch. And everyone thinks it’s great that you’re trying to get with the program. But you’ve been through a lot since you got promoted, and then Tendi got dragged back to Orion by her bitch sister. That’s a lot. Pile on top of that your history of survivor’s guilt, fear of responsibility, and self-sabotage, and pushing yourself outside your comfort zone might be just enough to turn your brain into a witch’s caldron of neurotransmitters. That’s the last thing we need.”

Mariner hopped off the bed and set down the PADD. “Yeah, it has felt a little weird,” she said as she rolled up her sleeves. “I was wondering if this could give me hives.” She loosened her hair, letting her curls fall free.

“See what I mean?” T’Ana said. She smiled. “Besides, you being Little Miss Starfleet has everyone freaked out.” She turned serious: “Other than that, you’re free to go. Getting back on duty is probably the best thing for you right now. If you have another episode, CALL ME RIGHT AWAY. Don’t try to tough it out. You ain’t alone, Beckett. Let us help you.”

“Ok,” Mariner said. “Thanks, Doc. C’mon, Genie.”

After the door closed behind Mariner and Genie, Westlake said, “It’s some kind of anomaly, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, probably,” T’Ana groused. “I hate those freaking things.”

8

8

“So, what, we’re thinking alternate realities?” Mariner said. Nothing else had happened during the morning watch. She, T’Lyn, Rutherford, Boimler, and Genie had met up in the bar for lunch and were convened in their favorite booth. “God, what does it say about our lives that we can talk about this as if it’s nothing?”

T’Lyn said, “Your misgivings notwithstanding, that is a valid hypothesis.”


“Yeah,” Mariner said, “but a starship that uses rotation for artificial gravity? I can’t think of anyone who does that. Or a warp capable starship with technology out of a Dixon Hill holonovel? Where does that come from?”

Boimler said, “Don’t worry—I have a guy working on it.”

“What guy--” Mariner said, “no, wait, not--”

“Hey, Mariner,” Steve Levy said with a smile as he came to the booth.

“Steve. Levy.” Mariner’s head flopped onto the table. “Shoot me now.”

Levy squeezed into the booth. “So, yeah, I found the things that you were talking about. The ship design was easiest. I’m surprised Rutherford didn’t tell you. Transferring data to your PADDs.” He tabbed his own PADD. The others’ PADDs beeped.

Mariner rolled her head to one side and hinged her PADD up with one edge against the table and read it. “Starfleet historical database? What, no conspiracy web site?” The ship in the image had two warp nacelles coming out of the rear section of a roughly cylindrical ship whose midships had two blocky booms extending from it and rotated independent of the sections fore and aft. The nose was dominated by what looked like a shuttle pod hangar. “‘Delta class corvette’?” Mariner read. “Never heard of it.”

Rutherford said, “Levy’s right—I should have remembered this. Back when Starfleet was founded, they wanted to commission ships with the most advanced warp engines they had at the time. They couldn’t do more than two or three times the speed of light, but that would have been fast enough for them to patrol the solar system and maybe go out to the inner edge of the Oort cloud. Some engineers weren’t sure you could combine inertial dampers with gravity plating. So, they proposed the Delta class. Inertial dampers would dampen acceleration, and the rotating section would have gravity for the main decks and crew quarters.”

T’Lyn said, “I, too, am aware of this. Starfleet’s Vulcan advisors reassured the admiralty that gravity plating and inertial dampers could be combined reliably and safely. So, the Delta class was shelved in the design phase. Some Vulcan commentators have used the Delta class proposal as an example of human reticence and to refute the idea that Vulcans held humans back in developing Warp technology. Theirs is a minority view, however, and no serious Vulcan scholar supports it.”

Boimler said, “Still, it makes sense—an alternate reality where Starfleet went with the Delta class, and it stuck.”

Mariner raised her head. “And how did you get onto this, Steve?”

“Temporal cold war,” Levy said.

“Ah, of course,” Mariner said. “Now, what about the ‘bridge’ with the antique tech?”

Levy bent closer and his voice became even more conspiratorial. “Control, people.”

“‘Control’?” Mariner asked. “What, is this that AI thing?”

“An AI Starfleet command was using during the One Year War with the Klingons to present tactical options,” Levy explained. “It went rogue and killed the admirals. It took the TOS-Enterprise and the USS Discovery to stop it. The Discovery was destroyed and all hands, including Spock’s adopted sister, were lost. But they sent the AI to another dimension.

“But ever since, Starfleet has done these secret war games on how to fight a rogue AI. And the biggest weakness are our computers. They’d have to downgrade our tech.”

Rutherford asked, “How big a downgrade?”

“We’re talking mid-to-late 20th century,” Levy answered: “Solid state electronics, 16-bit processors, no wireless networking, no packet switching—you can forget about transporters unless they were standalone systems.”

T’Lyn said, “And the deemphasis of wireless communications would mean antique wired telephones.”

Levy nodded. “And they put in regs against giving AI’s command. Janeway almost got court martialed for upgrading her EMH into an Emergency Command Hologram.”

Mariner forced and smile and said, “Well, thanks, Steve. Talk to you later?”

“Sure Mariner.” Mercifully, Levy took the hint and left.

Mariner clamped her hands to the sides of her head. “How bad does it have to be where he’s our answer guy?”

Rutherford, “Well, he’s not entirely wrong about the ECH. Janeway didn’t get in trouble, but Starfleet’s software engineers shelved the idea ‘pending further review.’”

T’Lyn said, “And I have acquainted myself with the writings of Ambassador Spock. While he is well known for writings on emotions some Vulcans consider radical, he is lesser known for advocating limits on the capabilities of artificial intelligence.”

“That’s no surprise, T’Lyn,” Mariner said, “because the M-5 almost got Kirk and his crew killed.”

“Indeed, Mariner, but Spock’s position predates that incident by a decade.” T’Lyn handed Mariner her PADD.

Mariner read it. “T’Lyn, the title is longer than the paper. Can you give us the summary for people who don’t think in annotated paragraphs?”

“In essence, Mariner, that there should be limits on the capabilities of Ais used for command-and-control functions, and that decision making capabilities should rest entirely with organic officers.”

Rutherford said, “Yeah. I mean, our computers can support holodeck characters who can act like people, and run an EMH, but the default interface for the computer is nowhere close. And it doesn’t have to be that way from an engineering standpoint.”

Mariner said, “Rutherford, it is scarry that you are getting into that.”

Genie clapped her hands and smiled. “Oh, I know! Levy has acquired mental powers and is projecting his conspiracy theories. All we have to do is cut his head off.”

“As appealing as that is,” Mariner deadpanned, “my mom would have to approve a beheading. And it takes forever to get blood out of these carpets. And it doesn’t explain my vision of T’Lyn’s somewhat hot Vulcan Viking hairdo.” Mariner took a deep breath. “Ok, T’Lyn, assuming there’s something to what Levy told us—and I can’t believe I actually said that—what do you make of all this?”

T’Lyn said, “Based on available data, which isn’t much and parts of which are highly suspect, the most likely hypothesis, *at this time,* is that you have been experiencing alternate quantum realities.”

Mariner said, “Like Worf did that time on the *Enterprise*-D.”

“Correct,” T’Lyn said, “though I must emphasize this is tentative and may be refuted by more accurate data. But that being said, since in alternate quantum realities, every choice that could have been made has been made, it is illogical to suppose that would be limited to choices made in recent history, or by one race.”

Boimler said, “First contact. If the Vulcan ship had been behind schedule or been doing a close flyby of the Sun on the opposite side from Earth, they never would have detected Cochrane’s warp flight.”

Rutherford said, “Or if Cochrane had scrubbed his flight or flown a day early.”

Mariner said, “I get it, I get it. But if I remember right, Worf’s shuttle flew through a quantum fissure. Since no one has left the *Cerritos* today, we’ll have to convince my mom to turn the ship around and--”

A klaxon sounded, but it was a buzzer instead of a siren. A voice came over the speakers: “Action stations, action stations. Set condition 1 throughout the ship. This not a drill…”

Mariner mused, “‘Action stations’?” Then she noticed their uniforms had changed to military style jackets. The bar’s door was heavy and hinged, and there was a wired telephone on the wall next to it.

Mariner led the others to the door and picked up the phone. She spoke into it: “Hello? Mariner to bridge or command center or whoever’s in charge?”

Freeman’s voice came over the phone, “Cerritos Actual. Sweetie? Is that you?”

“‘Actual’? Mom? What’s going on?”

“Oh, damn, has it happened again? Never mind. Get down here.”

“Sure, I’ll be, there right away. Where are you exactly?”

“You have no idea where the CIC is, do you?”

“Uh…nope.”

“You’re in the mess, right?...”

After Captain Freeman gave Mariner directions, Mariner said, “Ok, Mom, I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and turned to the others. “Follow me.”

The others followed Mariner out the mess hall, down the corridor round a bend—

--and the corridor suddenly changed! One second it was level, the next that stretch of corridor was inclined upwards. They all lost their footing. Genie took flight with her wings and grabbed Mariner’s arm, helping her back down the corridor, while the others stumbled down to where it became level and went through a right-angle turn.

As Genie set Mariner down and landed herself, Mariner said, “Is everyone ok?” She noticed everyone was now wearing civies.

Rutherford said, “Yeah, we’re ok--”

T’Lyn had stumbled back against the bulkhead. “What—what—what has happened to me?” Her monotone cracked just enough for her to sound distraught. Not only did she have the waste length hair again, but she wore a leather, sleeveless coat over a leather halter and matching leather pants. Two bony spikes poked through leather gauntlets on each forearm, bent backwards towards her elbows. The way they twitched in agitation showed they were a part of her.

Barnes came running down the ramp. She was dressed in civilian clothes and her hair had been dyed red. He Trill spots were missing. “Are you ok? My sensors detect signs of emotional distress.”

Rutherford said, “‘Sensors,’ Barnes?” He touched a control on his implant. “You’re an android! Where’s the real Barnes?”

“Who’s this ‘Barnes’? I’m Cerri—Cerritos The Ship Made Flesh. You know me, Rutherford. You built this body.”

“I did? Wait, what do you mean by ‘this body’?”

A holographic version of Barnes—Cerri—appeared next to Android Cerri, wearing a military uniform. She was translucent with scan lines going though her. She said, “I’m detecting severe emotional distress and brain chemistry alternations. Even from T’Lyn, far beyond Vulcanean norm.”

Mariner said, “A ‘Vulcanean’? What the heck is a Vulcanean?”

Android Cerri frowned. “You don’t know?”

Rutherford said, “Cerri, there has been an anomaly. We’ve lost our memories. Please remind us of when Vulcans became Vulcaneans.”

Android Barnes—Android Cerri—nodded. “A Vulcan cultural survey mission in 1909 brought the works of Frederich Nietzsche back to Vulcan. They took the planet by storm. Vulcan integrated Nietzsche’s ideas into their philosophy. He became revered as much as Surak. Their culture underwent a sea change, and they began genetically engineering themselves--”

“That is illogical,” T’Lyn stammered. “That did not happen.”

Mariner said, “Here it did. Can you keep it together?”

T’Lyn nodded.

Mariner said, “Cerri, take us to my mom.”

“Your…mother?”

“Augh! Take us to the bridge or the CIC or wherever you run the ship from.”

“The command deck. Follow me.”

Marriner and the others followed Android Cerri through a confusing 3-dimentional maze of corridors and ladder wells. They came though a large door onto the command deck. The layout was the same as the *Cerritos* bridge, and the door they came through was at the same position as the portside turbolift. But all the stations were designed to be stood at. The only chair was a pilot’s chair in the middle of the deck.

Rutherford spied the purple-skinned girl sitting in the pilot’s chair. He rushed over and yanked her out into a hug. “TENDI! It’s so good to see you, even if you are purple.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Rutherford. But I’m Vision, Vision Aquarius. Don’t you--”

Mariner: “What. The. Heck.”

Mariner was staring at the wall with the dedication plaque. The plaque was ringed with pictures of Freeman, Ransom, Shaxs, T’Ana, and Billups.

Mariner said, “Someone tell me. What. Happened. To my. Mom.”

Android Cerri said, “The Vulcaneans lured us to the Tartarus system with a false distress signal. We were ambushed by 10,000 Vulcanean ships. My Vulcanean first officer, Chu’lak, betrayed and murdered your mother and the rest of the senior staff. You killed Chu’Lak, Mariner, but then you and I were frozen in time at the edge of a black hole for over three hundred year--”

“It was you,” Mariner growled, rounding on Genie, backing her into the area where the captain’s chair would be. “It’s been you all along, hasn’t it? I had my suspicions. I didn’t want to believe it. You pop into my life from God knows where, and suddenly everything falls apart? That’s not an accident.”

Tears were streaming down Genie’s face. “I’m so sorry, Beckett. I didn’t mean for this to happen--”

Mariner lunged at Genie and grabbed Genie’s throat with both hands. “YOU KILLED MY MOM!” Mariner screamed as she strangled her lover. “I’LL KILL YOU KILL YOU DIE DIE DIE--”

Genie offered no resistance, just cried.

The deck shuddered under Marriner’s feet and she released her grip on Genie’s neck. Everyone else and everything else seemed to break into cubes and other polyhedrons that rotated around themselves, taking the bridge and the crew through different appearances. Then Mariner saw the tips of her fingers break into spinning polyhedrons and the effect started to travel down her arms.

All she could do was start to scream.
 
Genie dropped to a crouch, pressed her hands to the floor, and closed her eyes. The bridge and everyone on it stabilized. Mariner realized that the bridge had and everyone on it –including T’Lyn and her hairdo—had resumed their normal appearances, and that the senior staff—Freeman, Ransom, T’Ana, Shaxs, and Billups—were present and alive and well. Purple Tindi—Vision—had disappeared, and Barnes was at the Ops station in her ops uniform and with her trill spots. Boimler crossed to the Con console and took a seat.

“Mom!” Mariner couldn’t help herself. She ran to her mom and convulsively pulled her into a hug.

Rutherford crossed to the ops station. “Barnes! You ok? You still you?”

“Yeah, I think,” Barnes said. “What happened?”

“I can tell you that later after this is over. Want to meet in the bar off shift?”

Barnes mulled it over. Then she smiled and said, “All right.”

Meanwhile, Freeman returned Mariner’s hug and patted her daughter’s back. “It’s ok, sweetie.” She gently pushed Mariner away. “Now we have to get some answers.” Mother and daughter disengaged. Freeman turned to Genie. “Now, young lady, you have to explain yourself.”

“Yeah,” Mariner said, “before your jaw has been wired shut.”

“*Mariner!*” Freeman said.

Mariner took a step back but glared at Genie.

Freeman said, “For starters, who are you, really? What race are you?”

“I…there’s no point in explaining, Captain,” Genie said. “Suffice it to say we are to the Q continuum what the Q continuum is to you, and that’s dumbing it down a lot. But what you really want to know is what’s been happening.”

Freeman nodded.

Genie spent a moment gathering herself. “Well…you all know about the Talos solar system, right?”

Mariner said, “Yeah, the one place we can’t go, or we get executed by Starfleet.”

“Well,” Genie said, “after Captain Pike went there the first time, my father and I were studying the system. We found a small temporal anomaly on the edge of the star system. It wasn’t really worth noticing. If you passed through it, you wouldn’t notice anything major. You’re having lunch and you forget if you already had seconds for dessert, that sort of thing. But it still had some fascinating resonances. My father kept poking at it and he…broke it.”

Mariner said, “What do you mean, ‘broke it’?”

“I mean he broke it,” Genie said. “There’s no other way to describe it that you would understand. He broke it, ruptured it, and made a hole. He created a bridge to the 20th and 21st centuries of another universe. There, everything you know as reality is perceived as a media franchise. And that created a feedback loop which created multiple timelines.”

Boimler said, “How many? Two? Three? Dozens?”

Rutherford said, “Hundreds? Thousands?”

Boimler said, “Hundreds of thousands?”

Genie said, “My father and I stopped counting at 1,771,561.”

Rutherford frowned. “Why is that number familiar?”

“And that’s just this universe,” Genie said. “If you count the mirror universe, that means there are at least 3,543,122 timelines. But then both universes have what my dad and I called Kelvin timelines—don’t ask, major spoilers—and that brings the total for prime and mirror universes to 7,086,244 timelines. And then if you factor in--”

Freeman said, “We get it, we get it. Is that what we’ve been experiencing? Time after…it got broke?”

“Yes and no, Captain,” Genie said. “My father was able to…manage the situation. He couldn’t fix it, but he could tamp it down. So, ok, imagine a river, that’s calm and peaceful for most of its length, then there are these rapids and then it quiets down again. So, in your universe, there’s absolutely no difference between the timelines up until...roughly…1964 or 1966 on Earth’s Gregorian calendar, and things settle down again after 2368…ish…and even then, the only differences are the appearances of technology and personages in the 23d century, and some historical dates.”

Mariner said, “What historical dates?”

“The biggest one is the date of the Eugenics Wars,” Genie said. “That keeps jumping around.”

Mariner said, “No it doesn’t! Everyone knows that’s--” She broke off. “Crap, now I can’t remember. I used to have that on the tip of my tongue.”

Genie said, “You see?”

T’Lyn said, “It is both illogical and absurd that so many timelines would be differentiated by such trivial differences.”

“I know, I know,” Genie said, “it’s ridiculous, and you can make yourself crazy trying to keep track of what’s part of which timeline. You people would be better off not even thinking about it. From your perspective, you’ll be fine if you think there’s just one. Actually, two, but…well, anyway, I was helping my father…” She smiled at Mariner. “…and I saw you, Beckett. I saw what a free spirit you are, how you chafe at restrictions. I could relate to that. That’s why I came here, with my father’s blessing. I wanted to be with you. And it’s been the best time of my life.”

Mariner smiled. “Aw, that’s sweet. It’s been great for me, too. Now, can you get to the part where everything becomes a cubistic nightmare?”

“It fell apart…Mariner, it fell apart because my father died, and I didn’t go home to take his place.”

“Oh, so, what, Genie, you thought you would hump me while the universe burned?”

“You don’t get it, Mariner! I would have to leave forever; I could never be part of this reality again--”

“You put yourself ahead of everything else?” Mariner said. “That was selfish of you.”

“I know, but nothing happened at first,” Genie said. “And I started to think nothing ever would. I thought there was enough causal inertia to keep things going indefinitely. And maybe it would have if there were only one or two timelines. But there are far too many timelines. The ‘rapids’ have been getting worse, the discontinuity is starting to spread farther into the future and the past. And some laws of physics, like the mechanisms of faster than light travel, are up for grabs. Sooner or later a ‘flood’ will come. Everything, your whole reality, will be swept away. It will never have existed--”

Barnes interrupted, “Captain, I’m having trouble getting star fixes for navigation…” The view on the main screen changed to a starfield. And one by one, the stars were winking out. “The stars…this can’t be, the stars are going out.”

Ransom said, “How can that be? Light years measure both distance and the amount of time it takes light to get here. So if a star blew up tomorrow, we wouldn’t see if for years.”

T’Lyn said, “Under normal circumstances, yes. But the time disruption could mean that the stars are being destroyed in the past. Or they were never formed. Or the laws of physics, including universal constants like the speed of light, have been compromised. Or reality is being revised in front of us.”

Genie pointed at T’Lyn.

Freeman said, “Ok, so what do we do about it?”

“I have to get back to the Talos system and take my father’s place,” Genie said. She pressed two fingers to her forehead. “And right now…I let things go too long. I have to do this the hard way and use your ship.”

Boimler said, “We’re on the far side of the Alpha Quadrant from Talos. We would never get there in time.”

“I can get us there in a matter of seconds. Please, Captain. I swear your ship and crew will survive the trip.”

Freeman looked at Genie for a long moment, then nodded.

Genie went up the ramp to the engineering station and began entering commands.

Billups looked over her shoulder. “Captain, the intermix formula she’s entering--”

“Will work this one time, Billups. Trust me.” Genie went back down the ramp to the Con station and tapped Boimler on the shoulder. “I have to take the helm, Brad.”

Boimler looked at Freeman and Marriner. Freeman nodded. Boimler got up from the chair.

Genie sat at the station and entered commands. The starfield wheeled around as the *Cerritos* pointed itself in the right direction.

Genie said, “Engaging warp drive…now!”

The floor jerked under everyone, and the ship rattled as it raced down a corridor of gas and stars. Then the starfield returned to normal.

Barnes studied her console. “Captain, I don’t know how, but we’re in the Talos solar system, 1.2 billion kilometers from the star and 25 degrees off the plane of the system’s ecliptic.”

As Genie yielded the Con seat to Boimler, Billups reported, “Checking systems. Everything normal except…Captain, the transporters and replicators have all shut down.”

“Malfunction?” Freeman asked.

“It’s not that, captain. We no longer know what the wave function of the universe is. Without that, disassembling and assembling or reassembling matter is impossible.”

Boimler reported, “Helm is answering, captain. We’re on course to rendezvous with…something. 1200 kilometers and closing.”

“Put it on the screen, Mr. Boimler.”

What appeared on the screen appeared to be a blue-tinted globe with a mountain floating in it.

Barnes said, “I’m reading an oxygen nitrogen atmosphere, Captain. Gravity 1.001g.”

Genie pointed. “Home…or home away from home.”

Freeman said, “Jack?”

Ransom rose from his chair. “Mariner, you’re going to want see this through to the end, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“Figured. Shax, T’Lyn, Genie, with us.”

When they got to the turbolift, Boimler called, “Mariner!”

“Boims?”

“Just come back.”

Mariner smiled. “Planning on it.”

8

8

Ransom piloted the shuttle craft *Valdez Rocks* to a landing on a plateau only a few dozen feet below the mountain’s peak. The Cerritos floated several hundred meters above them. Their landing site overlooked the starfield, the Talos star glowing the brightest. They let the stern ramp down and Ransom, Mariner, T’Lyn, Genie, and Shaxs came out of the ship.

Genie pointed to a black obelisk near the ship. “My father’s grave.”

Mariner said, “If it was just you and your dad here, and you didn’t come home when he died, who buried him?”

“Mike just didn’t want to deal with a corpse,” Genie said.

“Who the hell is ‘Mike’?”

“MikeJaffa. I told you, feedback loop. It can get pretty meta around here sometimes.”

“What does that even mean? I’m sorry, but--”

Ransom interrupted, “Excuse me, ladies, much as I love to throw down about the nature of reality, I think we should hurry up. We just ran out of stars.” He pointed.

All the stars had vanished except for Talos.

Mariner managed, “Oh, my god.”

The space around them turned blue as the Talos star faded and vanished. Then the *Cerritos* began to dissolve into polyhedrons.

Mariner tabbed her communicator. “MOM!”

Static came over the com line: “Sweetie,” Freeman’s voice broke through, “don’t worr…do y..r…” The line went dead as the *Cerritos* broke apart and vanished. The shuttle, T’Lyn, Shaxs and Ransom also broke into polyhedrons and vanished. Mariner turned to Genie as her own body started to dissolve.

Genie grabbed Mariner’s hands. “I’ve got you.” Mariner’s body solidified. Genie released her.

Mariner said, “Ok, can you bring the others back?”

“Yes, after I take my father’s place.”

“Ok, then let’s go.”

They linked hands and ran 20 meters up a winding tree-lined path to a point just below the final, conical peak. A huge square platform was carved into the peak.

Mariner said, “Is that it?”

“That’s it.”

“How do we get up there? It looks pretty steep.”

“We don’t climb.” Genie’s wings twitched.

“Ok, I guess you’re carrying me?”

“Beckett, it’s not that simple. When I take my father’s place, this mountain will leave your universe and become something completely uninhabitable to your kind. You’ll have to leave. I’ll never see you again.”

“That would be it, wouldn’t it, Genie? But if that’s the way it has to be--”

“No.”

“What?”

“I can’t do it, Beckett. I won’t do it. I was all ready to, but now I can’t. I’m not going to give you up, even if it means the end of the universe.”
 
“What!?” Mariner released Genie’s hand. “Are you serious? I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life on this mountain with you?”

“It doesn’t have to be unpleasant.” Genie spread her arms, and suddenly they were in their cabin on the *Cerritos,* stars winking outside. “I can give you the *Cerritos* and your friends.”

“But they wouldn’t be real?”

“What is real? Now that I’m on the mountain, I can make whatever I want.”

“I don’t believe this…what, are you nuts!?”

“I guess. Mike is just winging it and putting in some melodrama at the end of this piece of crap.”

Thanks, Genie. Want to leave me out of it now?

“Oh come on, Mike, it’s not like this scene isn’t turning into--”

“Who are you talking to?” Mariner asked.

“Oh, just an overweight, middle-aged lazy hack who--”

Mariner shouted, “I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ‘MIKE’!” (Thank you, Beckett Mariner.)

“I heard that, Mike,” Genie said tartly.

“Hey!” Mariner said. “Focus on me, here and now. You broke the universe. You have to fix it.”

“W-what?” Genie said. “It wasn’t me. I told, my father--”

“Spare me. ‘We are to the Q what the Q are to you.’ Ha! I’ve got your number. You’re daddy’s little girl, aren’t you? Your father did what he did because of you. I can see it. ‘Oh, daddy, look at the pretty temporal anomaly. What’s making it all sparkly?’ ‘I don’t know, sweetie. Let’s take a look.’ And just to please you, he poked at the damn thing until it broke and the whole universe got smashed. Thanks to you, he had to give up whatever else he had wanted to do and become the only thing keeping the whole shebang from coming down around our ears. But he still indulged you when you wanted to come and bang me. But now it’s time for you to grow up and shoulder your responsibilities and surprises, surprise, you don’t wanna.”

“How dare you—”

Mariner slapped Genie. “You’re just like Trelane, aren’t you?” Mariner said with a grin. “A child god playing with reality, an imp with Peter Pan syndrome--”

“You’re one to talk!” Genie shot back. “Look at you, the daughter of a captain and an admiral. Anyone else would have been bounced out of Starfleet on a medical discharge years ago. They protected you from that by moving you from assignment to assignment. And you just took advantage of the privilege and reaped all the rewards. Just look at you now. You’re the little ‘princess’ of the *Cerritos.*”

“I am not!”

“Oh, please. Once upon a time, most of the *Cerritos’s* senior staff either didn’t know your name or thought you were a disgrace. But when Nick Locarno captured you, they all risked court martial to rescue you. And you revel in it no matter how much you deny it.”

“I am nothing like you, because I would never go against my mom’s last wishes. And I know what they are. When the coms went down, my mom was telling me to do what I have to do. And I will, if I have to knock you on your ass and drag you to the top of that mountain by your--”

“ENOUGH!” Genie thundered. She spread her arms. Mariner floated two feet off the floor as red energy crackled her around her, paralyzing her. The room dissolved and they were back on the mountain, but with clouds boiling through the sky like a timelapse image of a gathering storm.

Mariner grinned a death’s-head grin. “Well, whaddya know, the wannabe god is showing her true colors, absolute power corrupting absolutely.”

“You’re right,” Genie said, “on this mountain, I am a god. Here, I am all powerful. I can do whatever I want! I can make you do what I want, think what I want. Or I can obliterate you and make a copy who will do whatever I want.”

“Then do it, because as of right now, I am done.” Mariner closed her eyes and waited for the end.

Genie extended an arm towards Mariner. Then her expression softened. She lowered her arm and half turned away. The red energy dissipated as Mariner floated to the ground. The sky faded to solid blue.

Genie said, “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. You’re always right. I just got scared.” She turned to Mariner. “I was happy with you, Beckett, happier than I had ever been. I didn’t want to give that up.”

“I was happy with you, too, Genie. I love you. But I can’t give up everyone and everything else, not for you.”

“I understand. ‘The needs of the many outweighs the needs of the few or the one.’”

“Eeeyup. No one ever said it would be easy.”

“I didn’t think it would be. I just didn’t think it would be this hard.” She looked down at her feet for a moment. She looked up and smiled. “Funny. It just occurred to me, if I don’t recreate the universe, I’ll never know what’s going to happen with Tindi and the Orions.”

“What, you don’t already know?”

“I did my best to avoid spoilers with my favorites.”

“Then there’s only one thing for it, isn’t there? Next time I see Tindi, I’ll tell her she has a fan, the biggest fan in the multiverse.”

“You do that!”

The moment of levity passed. Their smiles faded as the weight of the moment settled on them.

Genie said, “I guess this is it. Kiss me goodbye?”

Mariner took Genie in her arms, and they kissed. Then Mariner released her. They smiled, and Genie held her smile as she spread her wings and flew to the top of the mountain. Mariner lost sight of Genie on the platform. Then there was a flash of light. Seated on the platform was a giant bird made of blue and white crystal.

The sky darkened to normal space, and the Talos star and the other stars reappeared. The *Cerritos* rippled into existence above the mountain.

Genie’s voice sounded all around Mariner: “You have to go now, Beckett.” The ground began to glow and blur.

She started running down the path to the shuttle’s landing site. “And, of course, I have to run for it. I can’t have a leisurely walk. Yeah, someone’s being melodramatic.”

(Shut up, Mariner.)

Mariner heard an engine noise as the shuttle came over the trees. It spun around in front of her and floated just feet off the ground with the rear ramp down. T’Lyn was hanging onto a strut with one hand and extending the other one. Mariner caught up to the hovering shuttle and jumped. T’Lyn caught her. The rear hatch closed as they ran to the front of the shuttle.

Mariner said, “Jack, get us out of here!” She came up behind his seat.

“Way ahead of you, Mariner!” Ransom had already opened up the throttle.

8

8

On the bridge of the *Cerritos,* Captain Freeman watched the main screen as the shuttle *Valdez Rocks* accelerated away from the mountain while the mountain itself changed: It began to look less like a three dimensional object and more like a blue-and-white silhouette in a blue circle. For a moment it looked two-dimensional. Then space rippled and closed over it. The starfield looked normal. But the shuttle was still there.

Ransom’s voice came over the coms: “*Valdez Rocks* to Cerritos. We’re on our way back.”

Freeman said, “How’s Mariner?”

“She’s here,” Ransom said (and Freeman and Boimler relaxed), “but Lieutenant Junior Grade Lemaj is…missing in action.”

“I see. Just get back here. You can tell--”

Barnes broke in from Ops: “Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but we have just received priority orders from Starfleet. We’re to report to Douglas Station immediately for debriefing by Temporal investigations.”

“Damn,” Freeman grumbled. “Just once I wish those guys would waste time.”

8

8

Mariner entered the captain’s ready room. “You wanted to see me mom?”

Freeman was seated behind her desk. “Beckett. Have a seat.”

Mariner took a seat.

Freeman said, “Beckett, I thought you’d like to know that I’ve put in Lieutenant Lemaj’s service record that she is missing in action, presumed dead, and that she gave her life in the performance of her duty.” She handed Mariner a PADD. “I thought you would want to be the one to tell your squad.”

Mariner read the PADD and smiled wanly. “Thanks. I suppose she did at the end, from a certain point of view.”

“How you holding up?”

“I’m not going to self-destruct and take the ship with me, if that’s what you mean.”

“Good. In other news, officially Temporal Investigations won’t issue its report for a month. But according to a reliable source…”

“Dad.”

“…according to a reliable source who doesn’t want their name bandied about this half of the Milky Way Galaxy, Starfleet already knows about that damned mountain and is keeping it quiet. Your friends can know that part *if* you can swear them to secrecy on that.”

“I think I can.”

“Without killing anybody.”

“Ooh.” But she smiled. “It’ll be ok. Don’t worry about it.”

“Then get outta here. Have some fun. That’s an order.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Mariner rose from the chair, then hesitated.

Freeman said, “Something on your mind?”

Mariner repeated what Genei had said and then said, “Was she right about me, Mom? Am I like her?”

“I don’t think so. You did what you had to do. Genie didn’t want to. You had to make her do it.”

“True. But would anyone care about me if they didn’t know I was your daughter?”

“You didn’t make a lot of friends at your other postings, did you, Beckett?”

“Not really, Mom. Not ones who lived anyway. And I found ways to keep everyone else from getting close. It made it less painful to leave.”

“Well…you let some people get close here. Once that starts, it can’t be stopped. You might not have the whole ship in the ‘family you choose’ if we’d still kept our secret, but a lot of people would be in your corner. Your being my daughter just accelerated it.

“Besides, what are we going to do about it? We can’t put the genie in the bottle.”

Mariner smiled. “No, Mom, we can’t.”

“And if I tried to get rid of you, I’d have a palace revolt on my hands.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Don’t! Or I will find something around here you really hate. Don’t think I won’t.”

Mariner’s expression lightened. “Ok, mom.” She turned to leave but hesitated again.

“Something else, Beckett?”

“I flipped out, Mom. We saw an alternate where you were…gone. Where you had been murdered. And I lost it. I usually pride myself on being the smartest person in the room, on keeping it together when everyone and everything else is falling apart. But at that moment, all I could see was red. All I wanted was blood. What does that say about me?”

“What it says, Beckett, is that my daughter is a mere mortal after all.”

“Mom. There’s no reason to be that mean.”

8

8

Mariner caught up with Boimler, Rutherford, and T’Lyn in the repair bay. She updated them on what her mom had told her.

Rutherford seemed disturbed. “It’s unnerving that the entire universe rests in the beak of one emotionally troubled being.” He brightened. “But she manages millions of virtually identical timelines? That is so cool! I wonder how she handles the chronoton flux?”

“Don’t think about it, Rutherford,” Mariner said. “Seriously, don’t. For the love of God, geek out about something else.”

“Okey-Dokey.”

“What about you, T’Lyn? You went through a lot of changes, not just physically but emotionally. I’m sure my mom would give you time off to meditate.”

“Your mother and the doctor have allowed me to take time off for meditation, Mariner, but I have chosen to divide my time between meditation and being with my friends. I believe both will be helpful.”

Mariner smiled. “Not going to argue with that.”

“Additionally…” T’Lyn went on, “there was another matter that has been on my mind. I was hoping if I shared it, the rest of you would keep it in confidence.”

Mariner said, “It never leaves this room.” Boimler and Rutherford nodded.

T’Lyn said, “As you all know, we experienced an alternate reality in which my people had turned against the Federation.”

“Yeah,” Mariner said, “but that was a messed up alternate reality in which Vulcans had gone all Nietzschean on the verge of the Apocalypse on us.”

“Indeed, Mariner. But in our reality, my people’s relationship with humanity has not been without points of contention. After first contact, my people kept Earth all but quarantined for over a century. We forced you to develop warp drive on your own instead of giving you engines to reverse engineer, and then slowed the pace of your program. The High Command foisted Sub-Commander T’Pol on Captain Archer, and then made multiple attempts to get her regardless of the detrimental effect on his mission. Vulcan logic fanatics opposed to Vulcans membership in the Federation have committed acts of terrorism, and more recently an extremist had employed mercenaries to locate and reassemble the Stone of Gol. To this day, the most detailed information in Starfleet’s medical database about Pon Farr, which could be life threatening to active-duty officers, comes from the notes Doctor Leonard McCoy made on the 1701 *Enterprise* over a century ago. We refuse to speak of it with…outsiders. And although Starfleet is supposed to provide protection to the entire Federation, including Vulcan, the Vulcan High Command’s fleet includes ships that rival Starfleet’s largest ships in size and firepower, as demonstrated by the fact that my old ship is more than twice the size of the *Cerritos.* It is logical to be concerned about the Vulcan leadership’s intentions and the future of Vulcan within the Federation.”

Mariner said, “T’Lyn, I think everyone agrees that while individual Vulcans can be great—present company included, even without the hot Vulcan Viking look—Vulcans collectively can be a pain in the ass. But overthrow the Federation? I’m having a little trouble with that.”

“Mariner, if your instincts tell you this is nothing to worry about, then I will never mention the issue again.”

Mariner thought for a long moment, then she said, “We keep this to ourselves and we keep our ears open. Agreed?”

The other three nodded.

“Good,” Mariner said. “But between you and me, T’Lyn, I hope you’re just a little shook up and worrying over nothing.”

“I hope so too, Mariner…”

8

8

At the helm of the *VCF Sh’Val,* Sub-Lieutenant Shara reported, “Captain, we have entered the Tartarus system.”

“Take us out of warp,” Captain Sokel ordered.

Shara obeyed. The warp tunnel vanished. The star, Tartarus, and its companion black hole filled the screen.

Sokel ordered, “Transmit our ID code.”

“Code transmitted,” Shara said. A moment later: “Acknowledgement received. We have been given an approach vector through the cloaking shield.”

“Proceed.”

A few moments later, the giant shipyard where 10,000 Vulcan battleships were in the early stages of construction rippled into view.

Shara said, “Captain, if I may…what about T’Lyn?”

“Is there some emotion behind your question, Shara?”

“Of course not, Captain. T’Lyn has been a valued member of this crew. It would be illogical to waste such a resource.”

“Indeed, yet she has not replied to my attempts at communication. Eventually, we will have to determine where her loyalties are and proceed accordingly. Is that not logical, Sub-Lieutenant?”

“It is, Captain.”


THE END
 
Okay - really dark, but still sarcastic and ironic. And my favorite (I love digs at the various idiocies of the franchise):

Mariner said, “What historical dates?”

“The biggest one is the date of the Eugenics Wars,” Genie said. “That keeps jumping around.”

Mariner said, “No it doesn’t! Everyone knows that’s--” She broke off. “Crap, now I can’t remember. I used to have that on the tip of my tongue.”
 
Okay - really dark, but still sarcastic and ironic. And my favorite (I love digs at the various idiocies of the franchise):

Mariner said, “What historical dates?”

“The biggest one is the date of the Eugenics Wars,” Genie said. “That keeps jumping around.”

Mariner said, “No it doesn’t! Everyone knows that’s--” She broke off. “Crap, now I can’t remember. I used to have that on the tip of my tongue.”

Yeah, if only the entire Star Trek universe and future history had sprung fully formed into Gene Roddenberry's head in 1964. At the very least he could have written the original series for people watching on computers in the 2020s instead of people at the time watching on black and white TVs usually ten feet away.

But anyway, glad you liked it!
 
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