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Subject: Night Moves..
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: Thu 4/22/10 6:10 AM
In the station, it was midnight. The gang was awake. Although no one
would actively admit it, their sleep had been disturbed because Roy
and Johnny hadn't been there for
A shift's start. There had been only
the two from 99's as firefighter substitutes instead. Now, they
were
subconsciously rebonding.
Together again around the kitchen table, platters were passed
around.
And boy, were they hungry.
Mike Stoker stuffed another bologna sandwich into his mouth.
"Man, this is good." he remarked.
"Yeah, better than cafeteria food." Gage guffawed.
"Missed
your cooking rotation did ya?" Chet egged on Johnny. "Let me
tell you, Gage. Hotdogs just didn't do
Monday night dinner justice. We
were all looking forward to that new meatfloaf recipe you promised
to
make."
This time, even Roy became exasperated. He cut off Johnny, before
the skinny paramedic
could open his food chipmunk cheeked mouth
to complain. "Kelly. Now, knock it off. We had an emergency
up there.
A wounded guy and his buddy who really needed us."
"The curse of the Squad 51 vacation
time strikes again." Chet snorted.
Hank held up a hand. His other one contained a fingerful of
cold french
fries. "Hey." he warned Chet, not chewing. "They did the decent thing
afterwards
and made sure the guy's friend was okay, by letting him
watch the surgery, then letting him crash
at our place." Cap reasoned,
hooking a thumb at the back lot where the dark camper was barely
visible
through the blue street lit filled window.
"That was only after you got used to the idea of a
sleepover." Gage
grumbled.
"I finally did it, didn't I?" Cap rounded on Gage.
Marco
held up his hands, stained with taco sauce. "Fellas, fellas, truce."
he pantomimed a timeout. "We're
only cranky because we're starving."
"We're always starving." Kelly chuckled, finishing off his
second sandwich.
"If you doubt that, just look at the frig."
"I replaced what we gave Tom Paris
tonight." Johnny defended.
Kelly tipped his head marginally. "True. I'll give you that. But this
is gas station lunch meat, not deli."
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"They were closed." Gage glared.
Mike Stoker decided to end the war by changing the subject.
"Say, Roy.
How'd Joanne and the kids take the news that Daddy was a hero again?"
"Same as always.
They took it for granted by not praising me to death."
Roy smiled.
"Too bad." Kelly said.
Gage smacked Chet's arm.
Boot woofed from his spot under the table.
"Oh, sorry, Boot.
Here ya go." Johnny said in a whisper around the
mayonnaise jar, sneaking the shaggy dog a slice
of bolonga.
Cap sniffed, cleared his throat at everybody, and did the same action,
openly.
"Can't be too bad for him like the vet says. He goes on rescues
with us all the time." he reasoned,
letting the others off the hook.
"We sure could've used Boot to find that ranger station yesterday."
DeSoto
said.
"Why? Were you lost?" Mike asked.
"No, Tom and his friend were, most likely.
Johnny and I think they were a little
disoriented after the crash." Roy explained.
"They sure
were acting weird." Johnny guffawed.
"Weird?" Chet asked.
"Yeah. All secret and suspicious,
holding back you know, like military guys
sometimes do when they're active duty." Gage said.
"And you let this guy into our yard?" Chet wanted to know.
"Well, yeah. They passed a background
check when they joined up, didn't they?"
Gage told him. "Paris didn't have any place to stay. No
money?" he gloated.
"Roy and I even bought the flowers Tom wanted to give his friend Chakotay
to
make him feel better faster. I gave him my blood." he finished, ticking off
that accomplishment on
a finger in irritation.
Kelly inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I'll admit, that was decent
of ya."
"That's what Dixie told us, with a wink." Gage told Chet, still glaring at him.
"All
right already, Uncle.." Kelly bellied up.
A few minutes were filled with the sounds of eating.
Soon they were all
genuinely happy again.
Roy chuckled. "He really does sound like us."
"Huh?" Johnny grunted.
"What we do when either of us is laid up in the hospital." DeSoto said,
passing a hand back and forth between himself and his paramedic
partner. "Fussing over the laid up
one."
"Oh, yeah. Tom does." Gage admitted, still engrossed in building a monster
stack sandwich.
"But he's so nervous. Kinda makes me doubt that he's
on a legit military mission like he told us."
Chet immediately stole it when he was done. Rather than create a stink,
Gage let him have it and
he started building a new one, this time safely
out of arm's reach.
Roy commented. "Yeah,
I got the same feeling, Johnny. But the vibes I get,
about those two, aren't bad ones regardless."
"I wish we'd never met them." Gage told him honestly. "Something about
Chakotay is just a little
bit too familiar to me."
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Outside the
camper, the exterior pay phone hanging on the side of
station 51, rang.
Tom Paris scrambled
out of the sheet he found himself wrapped up
in, and promptly fell the distance from the loft over
the driver's seat,
to the floor.
Cursing in Klingon, he kicked off the sheets and stumbled
outside
to grab the receiver as fast as he could before the firefighters on
the other side of the
bunkroom window would hear. Tom sighed
in relief when he saw the glow of lights in the kitchen and
the sounds
of active eating. He had lucked out.
"Tom here." he said cautiously into the phone.
##Paris, it's me. Got a mission for ya. Grab today's newspaper pronto!##
Boothby ordered him.
"Just where do you expect me to scrounge up one at this hour of the night?
The garbage can?"
##Actually, yes. Hop to.##
Tom's mouth actually flopped open, first in shock, then in disgust.
"Okay, hang on." and he let go, hanging the phone down on its steel coil
cord carefully. Grumbling
and shivering in the California cold, Tom snuck
a little farther down the wall to a row of garbage
bins next to the hose tower.
The first one, was medical waste.
"Eeeooww." he grunted, not
searching that one.
Woof! came a muffled bark.
Tom froze. But then he realized the fire
station dog was actually begging,
still safely in the kitchen, along with the rest of the firemen.
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Moving on down the line, Paris finally found the paper bin and a week's worth
of newsies, neatly
piled. He grabbed out the whole stack.
"Okay, what am I looking for?" Tom whispered at Boothby
when he
got back with his armful.
##Today's paper. The Carson Sentinel. June 12th, 1976. I
want you to
take a look at page 3B.##
Paris ruffled through the sections one by one, reading
off the dates
quickly by bright, blue street light. "No.. nope.. no...." he ticked off.
Suddenly
he was at the bottom with no dice. "Boothby. It's not here."
##What?##
"That paper.. It's
not here." Tom told him again.
##Oh, wonderful. You need to see what I see, Lieutenant. I can't
just tell you, you'll never believe me.## Boothby said.
"Wait a minute, Okay, uh.. I know why
it isn't here. They're firefighters,
right? Always taking calls and going on runs.." he thought out.
"What's the one thing you wanna do when you aren't doing what you're
paid to do?" he asked hypothetically.
##Escape from it all.## Boothby replied. ##Intense occupations always
elicit that response no
matter the species.## the alien said.
"Right. That paper must be inside the station still. And
in use."
##You have to get it.##
"How? I'm not allowed inside. They explained that to me
very clearly.
Something about county regulations and no overnight guests."
##Think Paris,
this is critically important.## Boothby groused.
"Okay, okay. I'm thinking. Uhhh." Then he remembered.
"I've got a dog
whistle!"
##Huh?##
"In this housing unit I've been put up in. Something
called a camper.
Looks like they've used it to quiet down strays. There's dog hair
everywhere.
Showed up on my tricorder scan earlier. I can get the one
that's inside now, to go fetch!" Tom said.
##Oh, lieutenant. Hope that works. I can't get over there just now with
a new newspaper. I'm currently
tied up in a fragile communication
with Project Pathfinder through my office security camera.##
"Tell Barclay to get his *ss in gear to get that away team here!"
##Watch the mouth, mister. I
won't tolerate other species profanity.##
Boothby told him.
"Sorry. Just a little worked up
here. They gave me something called
Mountain Dew a few hours ago." Paris said.
##Get to work.##
Boothby ordered. ##I'll be in touch.## *Click.*
"Right." Tom said, almost saluting for real.
He hung up the phone
and practically levitated up the strange camper's steps for the
tiny frig
in the kitchenette area.
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**************************************************
Subject: Pretzel..
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: Thu 4/22/10 3:40 PM
Boothby turned back to the hospital's camera in his borrowed
doctor's
office. "Okay, Barclay. I've done my part. What did you
find in the human records?"
The hologram
fidgeted as it paced back in forth inside
of the camera lens. ##Our situation just became a little
more urgent
I'm afraid. One of the humans trapped in that time echo along with
Tom Paris and Chakotay
is also a down the line direct descendant
of one of our people.##
"What?! Which one?" asked
the wizened caretaker alien.
##We don't know that yet. All we know is that when that person
became
trapped inside the echo along with our people, something
will happen there that he or she doesn't
survive, and our real timeline
changes in 1976. All the temporal fluctuations we've been reading
through the Halley's Comet wormhole, originate from right then.##
"What was the event that
was the first real changed point according to
your scientists at the Project?" asked Boothby.
##Voyager being destroyed. This followed by the obvious corollary that
Voyager will never ever get
a chance to keep trying to get back home
to Earth.## Reginald replied with certainty.
"Oo,
sticky."
Boothby moved closer to the hologram he could see in his camera
lens. "Okay, direct descendant.
A clue. Should be easy to figure out
which one. There's only five point seven million people needing
to be scanned by tricorder in this city of theirs." he said sarcastically.
##Piece of cake for
a starship shuttle.## Reg reasoned.
"Reg, I told you that Tom Paris destroyed their shuttle! To
preserve
the Prime Directive. He had to keep twentieth century humans
from discovering or using
twenty fourth century technology."
##Oh, that is a bit of a problem.##
But Boothby was
no longer listening.
"Unless....., we can modify the arriving away team's escape pod's
computer
to compensate." Boothby said, tapping a wrinkled chin.
##Oh, n-not without the help of an interactive
interface medium of some
kind. Such as what we're doing right now using satellites and
security
cameras.## Barclay said timidly. ##An active scan will be really hard
to hide from the humans from
the past. They can detect that kind of hacker
activity in 1976.##
"Not going that route." said
Boothby dismissively. "We already
have an interface medium available. A portable EMH."
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##What? Where did Lt. Paris and Chakotay get that? Did they take
Voyager's when they realized the
Borg were bearing down?##
"No. They already had one of their own. A second one that Harry Kim
duplicated as an experimental plan to submit to Starfleet as an idea
to add to future shuttle designs.
He wanted to make a difference and
a better existence choice option for the EMH-1 line."
##And
what a difference that is, Boothby! Ohhh!## Reg celebrated.
##I actually think we can finally save
this situation at last. That holodoc,
if we can get him to work, will help us save our critical descendant
from a premature death, thus saving our own timeline and preventing
the destruction of Voyager and
the loss of the away team.##
"You're forgetting about the Borg who were chasing them. Even
if
we save both Voyager and the shuttle, they'll still be coming."
Boothby said.
##We've got
that covered. We.... sort of negotiated with the 8472 to help
us out.##
"You did what?! What's
to keep those Fluidic space monsters from
using this whole situation to finally conquer us? They've
tried it once already
don't you know. Remember that duplicate Starfleet Academy training ground
they
built that Voyager found?"
##Janeway's truce is still keeping them our allies.## Barclay insisted.
##They're gonna engage the two cubes the moment they sense our original
peaceful timeline's been
restored. And by saving Voyager, they'll close the Halley's
Wormhole that actually opened secondarily
as a result of the Borg ships
destruction by Voyager's modulated phasers. And this whole time echo
you've
been living lately and that we've been probing for the last four days, will never
have
existed in the first place! Isn't that wonderful?##
"May the deitys have mercy on our souls."
Boothby moaned.
##Doubting Thomas. It's called politics. It's all a part of honoring the
conditions
of the Delta Quadrant truce.## said Barclay reassuringly.
"I don't do politics. I only do flowers
and cadet pruning, remember?"
Boothby grumbled.
But Barclay was oblivious. ##The away team
gets to Tom and Chakotay.
They all fix and activate the EMH, and then we find that trapped descendant
and prevent his/her death. Easy! I can so see it happening.##
Boothby rolled his eyes at Barclay's
hologram. "You're so young. Two words.
Murphy's Law."
##What's that?## Reg asked.
"Look
it up." Boothby snapped and closed their connection.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tom heard a knock on his camper door. "Who is it?" he asked.
"Your captain." came a strong gravelly
female voice.
"Kathryn!" Paris celebrated.
"And Tuvok." she replied, letting herself in.
Captain Janeway was dressed in
an all white business blazer, white pants with a solid colored blouse.
Tuvok, Voyager's security chief, had bound his Vulcan ears with a black
do rag and was wearing
a ripped biker's outfit of faded mint with
a maroon muscle shirt. The effect was striking.
"Nice."
Tom commented. "Remind me never to run into you in a
dark alley, Tuvok."
"Why would you want
to do that?" Tuvok commented.
"Oh, never mind. It's a figure of speech. I only meant that your
disguise
is very effective." Paris said. "You look like a street wise gang member."
"Thank
you. I tried to find a modicum that this society will either choose
to ignore or accept at a distance.
How is Commander Chakotay? We
haven't been able to scan his vital signs. It appears that his combadge
is no longer with him." Tuvok said.
"I have it here. Protect advanced technology, remember?"
Paris said, handing
it to Janeway. "Chakotay's fine. They managed to save his life with
stone
knives and bearskins. He's resting somewhat comfortably at
the local hospital."
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"I don't know if I like the sound of that. Let's go visit him next. So do
you have it?" Janeway
asked, moving from window to window of the camper,
making sure that no one was about.
"Have
what?" Tom asked. Then he remembered. "Oh, the newspaper. No,
I don't."
Janeway and Tuvok sighed,
putting away their actively scanning tricorders.
"I'm sorry, Captain. That d*mned dog took my
bologna bribe and then he
ran off with my dog whistle and didn't come back. I didn't want to monkey
around further and attract the firefighters' attention. Somehow, I don't
think it'd be seen as appropriate
if an overnight guest starts playing
with the fire station's dog in the middle of the night."
Janeway shrugged. "We'll think of something else."
But Tom was already on another track.
"Wait
a minute. How about Chakotay? If Boothby wanted me to see that
newspaper, wouldn't he have tried the
same thing with the commander?
He's very keen on sharing information I've recently learned." Paris
said.
"It's worth a shot. But first, let's have a little rundown on what tech
you do still
have that's left over from the shuttle." Janeway ordered.
Tom started emptying his pockets and
his knapsack. He cringed just
a little when he finally laid out the doctor's small autonomous emitter.
Tuvok picked it up and raised an ironic eyebrow. "Stealing classified
sickbay equipment without
authorization is a punishable offense,
lieutenant."
Tom became indignant. "I didn't. The captain
here--"
Janeway held up a travel dirty hand. "I authorized it. Harry Kim had
completed his
experimental duplication and the shuttle's mission was
its first test run. I wanted to see the new
EMH in action."
Tuvok's emotionless expression didn't change on his dark features.
"It is
unfortunate the shuttle is disintegrated. It will be difficult
modulating our escape pod's small
computer to hold all of
the doctor's program."
Tom finished laying out all the things he had
managed to save
from the shuttle's med kit. And his tricorder. Reluctantly, he
handed over the
hypospray full of Seven's Borg cure
nanoprobes over to Tuvok. "Oh, and I had to use some
of these.
Both on Chakotay and one of the locals."
Janeway looked up in alarm. "Are you absolutely sure
no one
else was infected?"
Tuvok quickly scanned Tom. "He's clear." Then he aimed it in
the
general direction of the fire station and scanned that, too.
"So are they."
"Yes, Captain,
I-- Yes, I got it all. I even dissolved the one Borg
implant that fell off of Chakotay's hand when
I injected him."
"Good." said Janeway. "Last thing we need is another Borg
Cube learning about
this time echo and wormhole following
Halley's Comet, through a newly reborn drone."
Paris
sat down wearily onto one of the long camper couches
next to the moonlit window and short curtains.
"You know, it's
funny."
"What is?" Janeway said, sitting next to him. She could see
utter
exhaustion in Tom's eyes.
"Halley's comet is on the same journey we are, captain. Seventy years
out, and seventy years back." he said, flying a hand up in the
air like an airplane in two directions.
"Only difference is,
that d*mned comet gets to Earth all right, every time." he sighed.
"I'll
get us home, Tom. It might take most of the rest of our lives.
But I'll get us there, I promise."
Kathyrn whispered.
"Or die trying." Paris said realistically, laying his head across
one of
his arms resting on the tabletop. "Ah,.. I give up." he
said. "Kathryn." Tom asked. "Do we have a
home left to return
to?" he asked, missing Voyager.
"Not yet. Let's go bring it back, shall
we?" she invited, reaching
for his hand to offer some comfort.
Tom took it, fighting tears.
He turned his head away from her.
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Janeway dragged over the medkit and groped around until she
found the medical tricorder. With it,
she scanned Tom and got
a baseline health status. "You've been burning your candle at
both ends.
No wonder you're sagging. Dopamine levels from
lack of sleep are sky high..."
"That was Boothby's
little surprise phone call a few hours ago.
Gave me a start." Paris groaned.
"Your blood sugar
levels are over the top...."
"That's something called soda pop. A whole case." Paris
shared
with her. "And they were good, too."
"You're not a diabetic." Janeway chided, but then softened.
"I'm suggesting cordrazine. Just a drop. To keep you going
a little longer. Do you as a medic concur
with these readings?"
she asked.
Frowning ruefully, Tom took the med tricorder from her hand
and read it. "Yep. I'm a mess. Fed but frazzled."
Janeway grinned and watched while he dialed
up a dose.
Then she took the new hypospray he had prepared and
injected his neck. "This should
counteract that sugar and
caffeine rush, and breakup all that lactic acid buildup you
have in your
muscles."
"Why fight it? I had Rampart Hospital's coffee, too. And
it was wonderful." Paris.
Janeway licked her lips. "Oh, stop. You know I won't be
able to resist that."
"The
captain has restrained herself. She has not yet indulged
in real coffee." Tuvok said, with a sparkle
in his eye.
"I didn't want to torture myself." she explained. "Just the
thought of solving
this whole dilemma and then returning
back home to where there is none--" she broke off,
swallowing
dryly.
Paris offered her the cordrazine. "Here. Maybe you should
have some of this instead."
he joked with a smile.
Janeway slapped it aside.
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Tuvok, meanwhile, had out a tool kit and he started work
on the EMH's autonomous emitter that he
had diode tied to
a tricorder and Chakotay's combadge. "Our escape pod
is hidden in the L.A. river
bed, not far from the hospital you
mentioned, inside of a storm conduit."
"Think it'll be safe
there?" Tom asked.
"Yes. I took the precaution of setting up a set of portable
tachyon stabilizers.
No one inside of this time echo will be
able to see or detect the pod. There's a protective
camouflage
in place." Tuvok reported.
"When are we leaving to go see Chakotay?" Paris asked.
"Right
now." Janeway said. "Ready, Tuvok?"
"Yes, I can finish up at the hospital." he replied, scooping
up Tom's battered backpack to hold all of their things. "I
took the added benefit of building a satellite
tap into
my tricorder so we can remotely fly the escape pod. I've
also added a temporal stabilizer
into this combadge
that will protect a wearer physically from alternate time
people if they should
try to interact or restrain the user
in any way. It will act as a buffer so we don't accidently
leave this echo for the real 1976 time stream outside. I am
also 86.67 % certain that using the doctor's
emitter, we will be
able to project Barclay's hologram from Project Pathfinder
to appear to us,
too, along with the doctor, face to face."
"Good work. What time is it?" Janeway asked as they
all stepped
outside and snuck down the side drive of Station 51 silently,
to catch a bus at one
of Wilmington's corners.
"Four a.m., by local reckoning." Tuvok answered.
"Good. Then we
have two hours to get done with what
we're doing." Paris replied. "Johnny Gage told me that
the
station has an automatic wakeup call that begins at
six a.m. After that, it's breakfast time. And
I'm sure they're
going to come out to the camper then to see how I've slept."
"We'll have you
back in time to meet them." Janeway
promised.
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-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Janeway, Boothby,
Tuvok and Tom all got into Chakotay's room
without problems. Boothby's natural don't see me knack
had spread
wide to encompass them enough to get there undetected by
anyone.
They stood
out of range of the monitoring patient camera's view
while Tuvok rigged a false image computer chip
to attach to it
to fool the nurses.
"Too bad we can't simulate this.." Chakotay said, of the
EKG monitor
he was wired to that was showing his current cardiac rhythm.
"I can arrange it,
commander, if you wish." Tuvok offered.
"Please do." Then Chakotay looked at Kathryn. "I'd get
up to
greet you properly, captain. But I'm kind of tied down here." he
said of the three tubes
going into or out of his body.
"I don't expect you to." she said, placing a warm hand on
his
pain sweaty forehead."Couldn't they dampened the pain down
a little?"
"I refused to let them.
I wanted to be clear headed for your arrival.
I knew it would be sometime tonight." Chakotay said.
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Boothby moved over to the bed. "I hate this era for medicine. They
can see into the body, but not
do anything about it once they get
there to fix anything. They feel the ultimate solution is to cut
everything
open!" he said with disgust.
"Don't remind me." Chakotay grimaced.
"I am
almost ready to bring the doctor online, commander. Another
two minutes, fourteen seconds.." Tuvok
promised.
"Can't come fast enough. I feel like hamburger." Chakotay groaned.
"Your cardiac
telemetry will no longer reflect and report your stress." Tuvok
told him. "I performed a bypass."
he shrugged.
"Is that a joke?" Tom asked, surprised.
Tuvok just raised an eyebrow and turned
back to work.
Janeway chuckled, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. She
picked up the
paper they had all been seeking. It had fallen in
between the corner of the bed and the railing next
to Chakotay's
good arm. "Chakotay. Have you seen this?" she asked.
"Better read it if you haven't."
Boothby warned. "It's important."
"Oh, I forgot. Page three B." Chakotay remembered.
Together,
captain and commander read the caption and
looked at the circled photo. Chakotay paled. "That's one
of
the firefighter paramedics who saved me. That's Roy DeSoto."
"See?" said Boothby, at him.
"And the date. It's still now."
"But he's old. He wasn't that way a few hours ago." Tom and
Chakotay
both said almost together.
Tuvok offered a hypothesis. "Perhaps he is not old, in this current
time echo." he said with emphasis.
"Then where is this?" Janeway asked, pointing to the photograph.
"It's happening at the same time."
"That is what we have to determine." Tuvok replied.
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**************************************************
Subject: On The Move..
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: Tue 4/27/10 12:48 PM
Tuvok lifted his head when the modified device he had
started building
in the camper, came to life. "Captain?
I believe I have done it. Project Pathfinder can now
project
Mr. Barclay's image through this unit, life sized."
Tom Paris took precautions and tightly shut
the door
leading to Chakotay's room. He leaned against it to
lightly prevent Rampart nurses from
entering unexpectedly.
"Do it." Kathryn replied, only looking up briefly from
Chakotay's stress
damp face. "Then get the doctor
online, fast as you can. Chakotay's in a lot of pain."
Tuvok
nodded. He placed the projector he had built
onto Chakotay's over-the-bed patient table and flicked
a
switch.
An electronic hum filled the air and a man sized void
appeared in a sparkle of
light, then filled out to become
a balding man with a youthful face, clothed head to
toe in a gray
and black functional Starfleet uniform
with saffron colored shoulders. "Ah,.. finally." it said.
Then
Reginald Barclay walked forward, hands spread
in beseechment. "Captain Janeway,.. it's so
good
to see you again face to face...er.. well almost."
he admitted with a nervous fidget. "as usual."
he
dipped his head with respect.
"Niceties to the wayside, Reg. We have a problem."
Janeway
replied and then she handed the paper to the
hologram briskly.
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"Oh, that's unexpected.." Barclay goggled, frowning
at the image of the white haired Roy DeSoto.
"Isn't this man---?"
"Yes." gasped Chakotay from the bed. "That's a
rescuer who helped save
me in the woods, one of two
paramedics who are partners who work at a fire station
not far from
here. But he may not be the one we already
know."
"We just saw the young one a few hours ago."
Tom
Paris clarified dryly, annoyed at Barclay's normal fidgetty,
anxiety caused physical and vocal
mannerisms.
"Oh, my. We didn't detect this." Reg said.
"No, I did. For you." Boothby shared
evenly. "I knew
the Nexus dumped me here on Earth of this time period
for a reason."
Barclay
stammered. "So you're not the real Boothby?"
he asked weakily.
"I am. But I'm his reflection.
Just like Guinan."
"And how James T. Kirk used to be." Reg whispered to himself.
"Lieutenant?"
Janeway prompted, interested.
"Nothing." Barclay replied, a little louder, with a start.
"Look,
this is a bit of a twist up, but...we can still help."
Barclay's hologram said, glancing over his
shoulder as
if he had just been spoken to. "Admiral Komachy just
told me that all the scientists
are probing Halley's
wormhole into your time pocket with a tighter focus.
They'll find something
odd if it's truly out there." he promised.
Kathryn looked thoughtful. "Maybe it's not that hard."
"Captain?" Tuvok inquired, raising an eyebrow with curiosity
glancing up from the work he was
performing on the doctor's
holoemitter.
"We've clues aplenty." she replied. "In the background."
Janeway looked down more closely at the photograph.
"This is a fire museum.." she said, seeing antique
horse drawn
vehicles with hoses in the background behind the aged Roy.
"That's got to be a place
that isn't very common for L.A.
in 1976."
Boothby began to smile like a cat.
"It's
not." Tuvok replied. "And according to our escape pod's
computer.." he said consulting his tricorder.
"..there is only
one. The County of Los Angeles Fire Museum."
"Where exactly is it? Is it
far?" Janeway asked.
"Only a few kilometers from here. It is located inside an isolated
warehouse
district at 9834 Flora Vista St. in Bellflower." Tuvok
said, reading the data he had called up again.
Janeway smirked.
"Shot in the dark. But I think that's the first most likely place to
go
to start scanning for a temporal anomaly large enough to
shift a man into aging. For we know that's
where this Roy was
yesterday or last week, at least, when the photo was taken."
Tom held out
a hand, "Can't we do it from the air? I thought
Chakotay rigged the escape pod to be able to be flown
by
remote control." Paris remembered.
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Janeway just gave him one of those looks. "In this day and age?
It'll be spotted, photographed, filmed
and reported to the far
corners of the earth in about two seconds. I wouldn't be surprised
if Project
Bluebook got their hands into it, too, up to the shoulder."
"Ah, our ancestor organization.."
Reg sighed in reverance.
Tom scowled at him from his door guarding place.
"Sorry." Barclay
said self consciously.
Janeway ignored the exchange.
"No, we'll fly her only as a last resort
or when we're finally
ready to break orbit for the wormhole."
"When all this is over." Boothby
agreed.
"If it can be all over and not looping." said Reg, unhelpfully.
This time, even
Chakotay glared at him.
Tuvok commented without words. "Mr. Barclay, please keep an
eye on
your module for us." he said, tossing the fragile satellite
booster up into the air so the hologram
had to fumble with
it for a few horrifying seconds before he gripped it securely
in both unreal
hands.
Reg took the hint and moused down into silence.
Boothby was staring at the small
portable emitter lying on the table.
"Mr. Tuvok?"
"It is ready."
The wizened alien
scooped it up eagerly and said the cue.
"Computer, active the emergency medical hologram." he
said,
holding up the silver ovoid into mid air about chest level.
A new hologram filled the air and
this time, the likeness appeared
strong and stable as it filled out into functionality. "Please state
the nature of the medical emergency." said the holodoc pleasantly
as the emitter stuck itself onto
the side of his fake arm when he
had fully materialized.
Then he soon spotted Chakotay, lying
on the bed. The EMH wasted
no time in procuring Tom's backpack that had the tools of his trade
inside,
the extensive medkit and medical tricorder. "So, you weren't
exaggerating." he said to Tom Paris.
"Would I do that?" Paris said, exasperated.
Boothby, Tuvok, and Janeway chuckled. Chakotay
didn't.
"From what I can see, the commander is wounded very badly despite
of a hospital repair
job."
"Ease up doctor." said the Native American commander. "Paris was a proper
medic first
for me as best he could."
The EMH harrumphed in his unreal throat. "We'll see about that.
History
and previous treatment?" he asked of everyone in the room
while he scanned Chakotay from head to toe
using the red flashing
sensor probe he had pulled out of the medtricorder's holder.
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Paris was thorough. "Colloid therapy, oxygen, emergency surgery,
antibiotics, manual bone reset,.."
The EMH quickly withdrew Chakotay's no longer needed I.V.
catheter and healed the area swiftly
with a dermal regenerator.
He smiled at the bag of glistening fluid. "Crude, but ingenious. At
least
they got that part right."
"... pain medication.." Tom continued on his report.
The EMH's
eyes rolled in doubt at that one.
"He's right. I was the one who refused more when it was offered."
Chakotay
defended as an explanation as to why his vital signs were so stressed.
"Chakotay,
I'll have you know being macho for the sake of the away
team, is backfiring wonderfully." the holodoc
said. "I think I'll fix that next."
Then he swiftly injected Chakotay with the twenty fourth century's
version
of pain relief. The commander immediately sagged into a relieved stupor.
Tom pressed
his lips into a firm line. "Uh, doc, I'm not done yet.." he said
to the EMH. "One of the echo earthers
was Borg infected, too. A young
male paramedic."
The EMH's expression changed to one of compassionate
alarm.
"He'll have to be treated immediately. I can't say being liquified
internally by computerized
filaments is the most enjoyable affliction
one can suffer."
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"..but I cured him with some of Seven's nanoprobes." Paris
finished.
"Well why didn't you
say so?" the EMH groused mildly as he
drew up another high tech tool and began to heal the sutures
in Chakotay's liver right through his patient gown.
Tom just sighed. "Nobody can speak as fast
as you can think."
he said defensively. "Chakotay even got some blood from
him." he said, to vindicate
the truth of a completely solved
Borg problem.
"He did? Well, there's no sign of that." said
the holodoc, tapping his
medical tricorder. "Maybe the people who think they can call themselves
doctors and nurses around here decided that rushing him into surgery
and cutting him open instead
was the better solution." he
said dryly.
"Here. Here." grumbled Boothby, in a like mind. "I've
seen that
kind of alien mentality in action countless times at Rampart."
Paris looked confused.
"Wow, really?... Huh. I could of sworn
they were gonna do that. Dr. Brackett seemed pretty keen on
the idea of running in several transfusions right awa-"
Tuvok suddenly called out a warning. "Doctor!
Avoid that
machine!"
The EMH immediately leaped away from Chakotay's
juryrigged EKG monitor
that his rear had almost bumped.
A curl of smoke arose from the device.
Janeway immediately
ran over to it. "Oh, G*d no. Did it ignite?"
Tuvok quickly scanned it. "No. There is no sign of
a plasma fire.
Even on the microscopic level."
The EMH looked shellshocked. "What was that
all about?"
Janeway tensed. "A nasty side effect of this time echo we're
all inside."
Boothby completed her thought. "Accidental electrical
discharges start permanent exothermic reactions,
doctor."
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The EMH was matter of fact about the danger narrowly avoided.
"Mmmm, first time for everything. Captain?
Do you really want me
online? With my tactile sensor fields," he said, wiggling the
fingers of
his holographic hands, "...I'm the ultimate as a walking
tinderbox." he said, deftly removing the
NG tube from Chakotay's
nose painlessly. "Ah." he said with satisfaction when it was done,
tossing
it over his shoulder like a wet discarded noodle.
Janeway grinned in spite of herself at his antics,
but held up a
disagreeing hand. "Right now we need you, doctor, an unavoidable
risk I'm willing
to take for Chakotay's sake. And possibly later on
for city wide scans. There's an ancestor of one
of the away team
here in our time echo that we want you to locate using your stored
medical records."
Kathryn replied. "If anything were to happen to that
individual, our timeline would be irrevocably
altered and then
we'll never get back home."
"Yeah, and Species 8472'd probably grind the Federation
underfoot just for spite for breaking the agreed Truce."
Tom told him.
"I recall reading reports
on their whole fiasco. They are more advanced
than we are aren't they?" sighed the EMH. "About using
me as your
hound? Should be easy enough, everyone on the crew's genetically
mapped as soon as
they join Starfleet." the holodoc replied smugly
as he finished up using a bone regenerator on Chakotay's
recently
reset upper arm. He had expertly cut away the cast with a finely
tuned portable laser.
"How's that, Chakotay?" he asked bending
over his rapidly becoming happy patient.
"Itchy.
Feels warm."
"Normal." nodded the holodoc.
"Can I move my arm now?"
"Certainly.
Your humerus is back in one piece."
"Thanks, doc. I feel like a new man." the commander smiled,
and
he started to sit up.
"Not so fast." said the EMH, pushing him back down onto
his
pillows. "We've still got that bladder drain to remove,
remember?"
The grin on Chakotay's
face wiped away as the EMH
suddenly drew the privacy curtain all the way around the bed.
"Put
this back on and breathe deep.." the holodoc smiled sweetly,
aiming a flowing oxygen mask at Chakotay's
face as
soon as they were visually partitioned away from the others.
"I promise you it won't hurt
a bit."
Chakotay screamed anyway.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Several minutes later, Janeway and the others met Boothby
in the hallway. They were waiting for
Chakotay to change into
the 1970s clothes they had beamed over from the hidden escape
pod. Kathryn
spoke. "Boothby. I don't know if this is such a good
idea breaking Chakotay out of Rampart like this.
Too many people
know about him."
"That's where I come in." said Boothby, smugly rocking back
and
forth on his heels. "You're forgetting my natural amnesia aura my
presence has on these echo
people. All I have to do is erase all
the physical evidence, such as Chakotay's chart, and we're in
business." he smiled.
Tom Paris had other thoughts. "Somehow I don't see anyone
sneaking
a chart past that saucy nurse at that desk in the ER. Aura
or no aura."
"You mean Dixie McCall?"
Boothby asked.
Tom nodded empathetically.
"Hmm. You may be right. But I'll think of something."
he said, placing
a discreet sticker on the number plate of the door which signified in
hospital
speak that the room within had had a death and was being
cleaned.
Chakotay quietly stepped
out of the room, he was wearing a blazer
and his bangs had been combed down from his usual Starfleet
buzz
cut, to hide his forehead tattoo. "I'm set." he said, tossing the doctor's
holo emitter up
and down into his hand as he shouldered Tom's
backback. "I've got the doctor back offline for safety.
There are
too many pieces of archaic equipment around here to risk an EM
field touch like the
one we narrowly avoided."
"Good thinking." said Janeway, taking the emitter and pocketting it.
Then she turned to Boothby. "You know where we'll be?"
"Embedded into my permanent recall." Boothby
promised. "I'll clean
up all signs of Chakotay's visit and then scoot out to the museum or
whereever
you'll be then, later. I can sniff out you originals anywhere."
he said, tapping his wrinkled, acne
scarred nose.
Beside him, the holographic Reg Barclay, shivered. He had changed
his appearance
to look less futuristic and more like the away team.
Barclay was wearing the appearance of blue jeans,
a tie dyed shirt,
with a red hippy bandana. "Let's hurry. It's almost dawn."
Tom studied his
watch, "Geez, I should get back. Uh, I'll take
a cab and meet you there, Captain. I've got to head
off the Station
51 gang or they'll get suspicious if they discover my absence."
"Here." said
Janeway, handing him the day's newspaper and
some local currency. "If they've already noticed you've
been gone.
Use this to tell them--"
"..that I just went out to buy a newspaper." Paris chuckled.
"Thanks, Captain. Keep me posted." he said, tapping his
combadge tucked underneath a shirt collar
so it chittered open.
"I'll be listening." he promised. Then he dashed off down the hall.
Tuvok
nodded at Boothby as the caretaker alien left them for
Medical Records to start working his subtle
forget ability. "I've
been studying the avenues around this community. I'm the best one
to drive
us there as I have reviewed the rules and regulations
of the road in great detail. I propose we go
see the parking lot
of the hospital. Specifically, the outpatient critical lot."
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