Capt. Shayne: Mirrors Don’t Have Wrinkles
Randal Shayne
((Deck 1, Captain’s Ready Room, USS Khitomer))
Admiral: Van der Waals.
Shayne glowered.
Anger was not foremost on his mind. Indeed, what did he have to be angry at? And yet, it was a simmering companion in the now- whatever meaning the word “now” could hold.
No, the glower was fear.
Never in his life had he been so scared.
It wasn’t the panic of a predatory chase, or the sudden spasm of horror as one realized an assignment had been neglected the day of its due date. It was the slow, molten horror of putting two and two together, the encroaching wall of incomprehensible symbology. Every part of him was numb- even that part. It was like the life had left him. Ashen-faced and scarcely cogent, it took effort to draw up the curiosity to inquire further, never mind the words.
Shayne: What?
It was a dry, shameful croak. This woman, whom Sickbay had confirmed was very much who she claimed to be from a genetic view, looked aged and ragged, but refined too, as if rejuvenated by her very presence aboard a Starfleet vessel. Had he ever seen Ginny smile before? She’d certainly had no reason to while he was around.
That was almost as unnerving as her origin.
Admiral: It’s my show of good faith. I know you, Randal. ::sad smile:: I know you so, so well. You need proof that I know more than you do, and that I'm really using that knowledge to look out for you.
Shayne: A prudent, if manufactured, measure.
Time travel. He got it, more easily than some in his graduating class. Usable, tangible mathematics? A struggle and a half. Esoteric, misunderstood quantum theories of causality and entanglement? Smoothly grasped, to the point where Shayne lived in a small existential crisis on the daily. Starfleet was full of intrepid crews encountering and then poking anomalies, angering Qs, diving into the Guardian of Forever, if that one report was correct… anything and everything bore the potential to unmake his life like so much spaghetti upon a planar pavement.
In this moment, however, he understood that any show of good faith knowledge-related would need to be confirmed to the fullest.
Admiral: If my memory is correct—and my memory is very good—you've recently received reports from Engineering about suspected sabotage, yes? If you consult the ship's sensor logs, and the crew’s personal logs, you'll find your man. Every time something broke mysteriously, he was there to point it out, if not fix it himself.
Shayne regarded her patiently. Not even a cup of coffee drew his attention from her. Fingers folded, caressing each other’s sides, Shayne considered a response.
Shayne: Noted. May I ask what… became of him?
Admiral: I lost track of him when he was carted off to DS33. Heard later that he was some kind of Engineering “angel of mercy” type, breaking the ship so he could be seen to fix it. Playing the hero. But that was hardly more than rumor, then. Couldn't say for sure.
Shayne nodded in well-restrained approval. The Admiral’s admission struck the right cords. Knowledge without omniscience that might suggest a well-rehearsed lie. A human justification that was as innately graspable as it was illogical. And it would explain a great many things. How many? Too many.
Shayne: Why are you here?
As much as was right about Lacy, her aura was wrong. It was burdened with spiritual weight forty years away. It was chiseled from a stubbornness and a grief that dragged light into itself, so graphic was its invisible wound. Shayne had often wondered about Lacy, about what she was doing at the moment, about what she would be doing in the future, about how someone could be so misguided. He’d often entertained the possibility that she lacked a heart, so outlandish were her obsessions. Now he wondered if the heart was missing out of loss, more than anything.
Admiral: The truth is, I'm out of ideas. Where I come from, you're not around anymore to help me think up new ones. If you don't help me—if I can't earn your trust—then in a month's time, Khitomer will be destroyed, half its crew will be dead, and the Federation will be doomed.
The moment hung itself with suspense.
Shayne: We will listen.
TBC…
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0