Pre-chapter note: I have REWRITTEN the prologue and chapter one, go back and read first, if you haven’t. – Notice will be removed at end of june.Chapter Two“Distance”USS Prometheus, Engineering Lab Four, November 4th
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
Willow nodded to the impatient Ferengi that had been her only... only
company for at least a week. Or however long it was, it was hard to keep track since either they were separated for hours upon hours, or he was hounding her and that at least felt like hours where she wished he’d go.
Finally, in front of her was a cobbled-together Transporter component that would allow the system to get enough power from the Impulse fusion reactors. It had taken all of the last 18 hours for her to realise most of the, -very power hungry- systems involved in remotely pulling apart and putting back together various objects, and people, ran off of the EPS Grid, which itself carried most of the power generated by the so-called Warp Core. Aka the Matter/Anti-Matter Annihilation Reactor. Aka the power source of which all of the required fuel is missing.
The matter part was simple, the environmental systems could pull in atmosphere from uninhabited sections to fuel the ‘matter’ side of it. The Anti-Matter part wasn’t so simple. On the one hand, Twenty-Fifth century technology made creation of Anti-matter pretty simple. A Typical Antimatter Refinery produces about three thousand kilograms per hour. But with the most ships using, on average a third of that, most starships with sufficiently powerful fusion reactors and other sources of Deuterium, produce their own antimatter to extend range. It’s why Voyager for the most part had problems only with that, and not Anti-matter – production of Antimatter was done to keep their warp tanks full, which in turn powered things like Transporters and Holodecks.
On the other hand, that particular system was offline, and she had no idea how to fix it. And it was a net-loss anyway. Even in the time she was from, anti-matter generation was a net-loss of twenty-five percent, with pretty much seventy percent of all antimatter created fleet-wide coming from dedicated refinery stations, twenty-five percent at Dedicated Resupply Starbases, and the remaining five percent on the ships fleet-wide with the required systems to do so mostly ‘topping up’ the antimatter pods.
Taking a trip through clouds of suitable material in Jupiter would solve the problem of sufficient matter to feed the Fusion reactors, and in turn, the creation of Antimatter, and in turn, powering the onboard industrial replicators to a sufficient level so she could build a dedicated fusion-powered Antimatter refinery.
But there was that problem of power. And she needed a scientist.
And while it went against her Willow part, Captain Rosenberg was insisting that he needed to be here.
She needed Xander.
And Buffy, if only to have someone else to talk to.
Scrutinising her work, she nodded to herself, picked the gizmo up and left the engineering lab. Snyder, ignored, decided to have a wander, and she last heard him in a turbolift calling for the mess hall.
She blearily opened her eyes, and seeing darkness, wondered what the hell was going on. Normally she woke at dawn, and at the very least once the sun was up.
She sat up, then blinked as the light level steadily rose to a comfortable level. She wasn’t in her own room.
Then she saw the window. Or rather, what was on the other side.
Then vague memories of the last few days, in which she’d not slept a wink, came rushing back and she almost fainted in surprise, shock, elation, worry, horror, and everything in between.
Then a beeping made it known, and she frowned.
It was a familiar noise... but where...?
She spotted a familiar sight on a desk in another room, and slowly got dressed in... a Starfleet uniform that was hung up in the wardrobe. She’d have thought it the costume having remained changed, but her memory told her that the uniform itself had transformed back to regular materials at the end of the spell, while she herself had remained...
She’s a trill.
Wait, that’s Giles line.
The beeping started again, and she turned back to her task, hyperventilating a bit as she did from the excitement of wearing a real – a fully fledged, real twenty-fifth century uniform she now remembered replicating, and unsteadily walked into the lounge area of her quarters.
That tidbit slowly filtered into her brain as she sat at the desk, and stared at the computer monitor – flatscreen computer monitor at least 24 inches in size, although it was a lot wider than she’d have thought, usually they were more squarish...
She looked over the controls, finally remembering what that beeping was about... given the message on the screen said ‘incoming transmission’.
Tentatively she pressed a button.“Hey Wills.”
Xander. And Buffy.
“Hi.” She replied, and it came out as a squeek.“Easy, Willow. Breathe. Take slow deep breathes...”
Buffy started, her tone oddly soothing,... which made her think why. And that did not have the calming effect Buffy’s voice had, to the point...
Blackness was starting to take over when Xander cut in... “What is the Co-efficient of-“
She didn’t catch what he’d said... but she knew she’d said something in reply, and then a back and forth for a few minutes, before she calmed down, opened her eyes (she didn’t remember closing them) and saw the pair, sat side by side... At Mrs Summers’ dining table.
“How...”“You sent us this computer, wills. You spoke to us before we both insisted on you getting some sleep.”
“S... How long was I asleep? I don’t remember sending you a... computer... terminal I think they’re called.” She frowned, as unlike before, information was not coming quick and fast this morning, or whatever time it was.“It’s almost Eight.”
“What day is it?” She asked.“The Fifth.”
“Oh My god, I’ve missed three days of school?”
Xander and Buff shared a look, and despite her shake of the head, Buffy was smiling, as Xander replied, “Yeah, and Snyder knows...”
“Oh my god, I’ll be expelled... Or Worse...” The pair on the screen snickered, and she thought something... “It... You’re just joking.... right? It’ Monday morning and you woke me so I would uh... use a shuttle... or transporter... or something...”
Buffy shook herhead, and concerned, humor disappeared quickly as she asked, “Willow... you’ve had almost twelve hours sleep, the last few days shouldn’t be all that fuzzy...”
A memory tickled her mind.
But no, that would have been from the ... show...
“Snyder.... Nog... Snyder... Zimmerman...”“Wills?”“WILLOW!?”
“I’m okay... just out for a second. No big.” Dazed, Willow stood up and turned to where she guessed the bathroom was. “I’ll talk to you when I’m more awake and I’ve had coffee.”“Willow...”
Buffy began, but a panicked Xander cut in, “No, Willow, Bad Willow, No coffee! You hear m-”
She dropped her arm, and took the first step toward the bathroom door, then paused as some more memories filtered in.
With that, she did an about turn, and left the quarters... and got lost trying to find a turbolift.
Eventually, she remembered the guide function from the first few episodes of The Next Generation, when Ambassador Troi needed the computer to show her the way...
She stared at the Operations Station controls. Half of it made no sense. The other half she didn’t have the scientific grounding to understand. It had been the same story at the science stations, the helm, engineering and pretty much everything except the tactical controls, which she now figured was probably because of who she’d been the past few days...
And she knew she hadn’t been herself before going to sleep. Technically, this had been the first time she’d properly slept since the night before Halloween. After those events, she’d tried to sleep, but hadn’t gotten much, mostly tossed and turned even then.
At the end of the night, she’d been tired, and tried to sleep, too tired to move, too... shellshocked... at what had happened.
Then she found herself on the bridge, almost by accident in some ways, fainted... then woken as some... merged personality. Like she was both Willow, born and raised in sunnydale, and Captain Rosenberg, born on the trill homeworld, raised on Earth, became joined with a symbiote then joined Starfleet, then a few years after the war, lost her symbiote but thanks to Command Bashir’s research had survived the separation... And she was also the symbiote, so used to merging that stuff that she could function even with a lot of it happening.
Now, those memories... that knowledge... it felt like trying to run through a dense, rolling forrest faster than her feet could carry, faster than she could change course to avoid the trees... and each impact jarred a few memories loose, incoherently, instead of the, to continue the metaphor, slipping by the trees with a soft brush, only getting the memories and knowledge she needed and wanted.
She needed Captain Rosenberg, but it felt like that... that personality... was lightyears away.
She didn’t notice as her fingers caressed the button to switch the cloak off, and then back on.
Finally, one piece of information came to her, and she turned and headed out.
--Stargate Command, Control Room
“It just appeared for a second.” Carter spoke, as she worked to get the higher resolution images downloaded from the near-earth spy satellites the SGC had tasked to watch for anything like this.
“Right, And I’m Captain Picard.”
Captain Carter rolled her eyes, and smiled in triumph, then confusion, at the picture that came onto the monitor.
Clearly, the picture had been taken as the stealth technology was disengaging, or rather, re-engaging, as the forward and rear tips were blended with the black background.
But even so, it was clearly something based on the series.... a distinct ‘saucer’ section, although the rather flat surface, triangular shape of it made them think goa’uld, when everyone here knew that star trek ships had curved hulls, literally, ‘saucer’ shaped, even stretched sideways like the Ent-D, or forward like Voyager... And a distinct Engineering hull, that looked quite beefy, although the resolution wasn’t enough to show hull details like grid lines, and the angle was all wrong to see the ventral side.
What was visible as well, was that it had four nacelles. And they were dark. Along with most of the hull. The Star trek signature of lots of lit windows was... well there were only a few lights.
“I’m not reading anything... If they really are cloaked, we can’t see them.”
Teal’c had to ask, “I was to understand that the United Federation Of Planets was forbidden from using Cloaking technology by the Treaty of Algeron.”
“Well, it looks more advanced than what we’ve seen so far in the show... maybe it’s from a period where that doesn’t apply?” Jack commented, not taking it at all seriously.
“Colonel.” Hammond spoke, entering the room. “Teal’c, Doctor Jackson, what you are seeing is not an elaborate prank... as I thought it was until five minutes ago.”
Carter nodded from the computer console. “While the Cloak seems to be perfect, blocking all internal emissions... There is one... tiny... problem, I’ve found.”
“What, you saying we can detect a twenty-fourth century ship under full cloak?”
“If what I’ve found is correct... no. I don’t think the ship’s cloak is fully functional. It did after all, essentially switch off for half a second. And ever since, we’ve been getting intermittent readings, low levels of infrared... and then nothing. At all. Not even the background radiation that would be... passing through the ship’s location.”
Daniel piped in, “You’re able to track the ship because, when it’s working, it’s working too well
Sam nodded. “Now, based on readings from in the ship’s general location, this only began with the... glitch... the ship began to experience. Prior to that, nothing. I have no idea how long the ship has been there... but I’d say whatever happened, the ship’s almost dead.”
“ah.... that would be a problem... right?” Jack asked.
“Why?” Daniel asked.
“Are not Starfleet vessels powered by a Matter-Antimatter Reactor?” Teal’c asked. “Even the Goa’uld dare not attempt to build such power sources.”
“In the show, we... don’t know if that ship is just built to... appear similar... or...” Sam licked her lips. “If that ship does have antimatter onboard... anywhere near the amounts a ship that size would have before a resupply... we’d be in trouble if containment fails.
Jack had to comment, “And... how much would a ship have? We talking A-Bomb?”
Sam shook her head. “Just one kilogram of Antimatter has almost the same yield as the twenty-seven kilogram Tsar Bomb... And based on, what I’ve read... a Galaxy Class ship of the mid-twenty-fourth century uses one point three four six kilograms per minute.”That
had everyone in the room, even those who were only idly listening, pale.
--USS Prometheus, Transporter Room Three, November 6th
She hummed to herself as the transporter reported it would take another day to charge, and continued her work, this time tying in internal computer connections for a high-bandwidth connection to the Paris-class runabout’s sensor array. The power requirement for the shuttle’s sensors was significantly less than that of the ship’s arrays, but then, she only needed to beam people aboard, and she only needed to lock onto their signatures. It had worked for sending the terminal to them, but then those connections had gotten fried in the process.
In the background, the gizmo she’d built, a very high-tech capacitor, slowly built up more power than most atomic bombs had ever detonated with, fed with the low feed from the secondary power network the Fusion Reactors fed. Transporting people
was a much, much more costly affair. And as she’d learned, it was precisely why transporting her aboard had been enough to use up the last of the ship’s antimatter.
Finally, the last connection went into place and into standby, smiling she moved out, headed for the bridge.
A moment later, that feeling of success was switched with the feeling of...
Captain Rosenberg nodded to herself as she finished system checks, and moved over to Operations.
She frowned at the fluctuations she saw though, and remembered... her other self... triggering something by accident and not noticing.
A few presses of a button, and the cloak restabilised.
“How long until I can go back to Sunnydale?”
“Two days. The capacitor needs a day so I can bring up Xander and Buffy... and another day to beam you down... but you’re...”
“Don’t remind me.”
Willow sipped her coffee... Trill reacted different to coffee, which amused her to no end when she did in fact finally get to drink regular coffee and she thought about how Xander and Buffy would react. Coffee was off-limits for human willow, but now she could drink as much of as it she liked... well... sort of.
The difference was in that it calmed her. Which is why she was handling Snyder being around while ‘Captain Rosenberg’ was a no-show, and plain ole’ willow was in control.
After a moment, he was the one who asked something she hadn’t thought of. Something quite important, “If... If Miss summers will be up here for.. two days at least... who will patrol Sunnydale?”
“Don’t worry, that... that’s covered.”
She smiled amused as the Ferengi slowly bit his food, and was wincing at his... teeth. He still missed human teeth, clearly.
--Stargate Command, Briefing Room
General Hammond looked between the impatient Colonel, and the others gathered around the room.
SG-1, SG-2 and a few others were present, including their Asgard Allie, Commander Thor.
“Unfortunately not, Colonel O’Neill. We have also gone over the data your systems captured, and upon arriving performed our own scans. While it is doubtless that the vessel you detected was indeed there, it is also doubtless that someone aboard, or perhaps automated systems, had fixed whatever problem they had with their... cloaking... device. In addition, we have performed more extensive scans of the area where the ship is supposed to be if your supposition, that it is in a stable geo-stationary orbit, is correct, and cannot find any evidence of how the ship arrived there. Even the readings of background radiation and others have returned to normal. As you would say, a ‘perfect cloak’. If the vessel had left by the means your Fiction indicates these ships are capable of, they would have likely left a trail we could follow. But also likewise, however the ship arrived, it was not by those means, as such trails would remain for some time. Indeed, trails from the two Motherships that Apophis used to attack your world a year ago remain along the paths both vessels took.”
“So basically, If it’s gone, it’ll be by however it got there, and it didn’t... warp in or come in at sublight speeds?”
Sam blinked. “Transporters. That’s got to be it... the ship... beamed in, under full cloak. I... Which has to require lots of power, only a problem occurred, and it... jumped universes?”
Thor thought for a moment. “As you know, Travel between timelines, dimensions, is possible. However, the larger the object to transport, the greater the power level... I shall have to return to my ship to perform the necessary calculations.” Thor turned slightly to Sam, “Certainly, your knowledge of... Starfleet vessels and their power systems, will be most helpful.”
Grinning Jack commented, “Jumping universes by transporter malfunction? Which episode did you pull that
Sam blushed, even as the General nodded to both herself and Commander Thor. They faded in the white light of Asgard transport beams.
--USS Prometheus, Transporter Room Three, November 8th
Willow grinned as her friends appeared.
Xander shuddered slightly, then gave his friend a grin.
Buffy was the surprise. Normally she dyed her hair at least once a week, partly thanks to slayer healing also meaning faster hair growth... although, in that respect, it was only on the head, and only hair-hair, not eyebrows, jaw/chin, arms, legs and so on...
She blinked at that thought, and pushed it down as she grinned at the already-three-inches of darker hair showing through.
The blonde had looked nice, but smart Willow knew it was a, a side-effect of sorts, from the... anyway.
They were both also wearing generic clothes, and had only a small bag.
“Captain.” Buffy greeted.
That still made her smile, half in excitement, half in terror.
“Hey, you been drinking coffee?” Xander asked, at her mixed emotions.
“Coffee calms me now. It’s a trill thing.” She quickly passed off, then almost in a rush, tried to pull them out for a quick tour.
“Complete.” The computer spoke.
Captain Rosenberg Smiled, before she seemed to shift without moving.
Willow grinned, “Cool huh?”
Buffy smiled as she took a tentative sit in the chair to the right of the captain’s. “Sort of.” Tapping her head, she added, “Deanna’s insisting I’m sat on the wrong side of the bridge.”
“You uh... dual as well?” Willow asked rushed with worry.
“No... Easy, Wills. It was a joke... kind of. Memories of being sat to the left, and all.” Buffy stood and quickly took her friend in a hug... “You’re... you okay?”
She blinked, and realised tears were coming out.
She’d not seen her friends in... well over a week, and had the panic of...
“Hey, we’re here now...”
Willow didn’t hear the woosh of the doors. Nor did she feel Buffy reach into a pocket and then throw something at that doorway. Nor did she hear the sound of a Ferengi grumbling and retreating.
All she felt, was the panic of being out of control, the worry over how her friends were doing, the excitement of being on a star trek ship, and the horror of realising that she herself had no clue what to do about it. And the mixed emotions from apparently having some kind of multiple personalities, one of who has vastly clearer memories and knowledge of the ship, Starfleet, and more, by way of being an actual Starfleet officer.
Captain Rosenberg had had control for the most part, once she got into something and excited, and it was something the captain knew, the captain seemed to take over. Then it was over and she’d be stood there, having no idea how the Captain had done what she’d done.
There was no way she was going back to sunnydale until she had a handle on this... and until now, she hadn’t even known that she didn’t
--End of An Undecided StartAuthors Note:
This is an All-new Chapter two. And the Last Chapter for this segment of the story. Trying for split stories and going too long was a ... bit.. of a mistake. Mainly because I’ve not written for willow or buffy nearly enough. Therefore, it mostly comes out as OOC to me, so I would gladly accept some help fleshing out the emotional reaction on Willow’s part without angsting too much.and yes, Willow has pseudo-MPD. But in the way that Xander had it in The Pack, with the added swap of control between the two.
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS, ST, SG, Etcetera