Chapter Text
STARDATE 2260.193
Beta Quadrant
Andorian Space Station
Space exploration waits for no man. Or rather, waits only as long as it is required to.
Once it was entirely clear of the virus, the USS Enterprise returned to the Space Station. Their sudden evacuation and departure had, of course, been the focus of gossip among the crew, but there were only the select few who truly knew what had occurred over the past two weeks. Some reports were marked confidential. Other were marked classified. And some reports were never filed. A large blank space existed in the logs of the Enterprise. Amelia, however, recorded her version of events on her data-padd. For future study one day.
Eli and T'Janis reconnected with the representatives of the Federation soon after the Enterprise re-docked. They carried with them the future of humanity. A future that Amelia would never see. She supposed if something went wrong then maybe they would get another chance to make things right.
Isn't that one of the benefits of time travel anyway?
She said goodbye to Th'eon, thankful that she had been granted that request. It turns out that a person gets a favor or two when an ELE comes into play.
They stood in front of the docking area of a Federation ship, his temporary home until reassignment. At Th'eon's feet were just two bags. Amelia looked him over, noted that his antenna had been treated on the station. Both were in full form now, twitching and rotating. He was wearing a Federation uniform, a jarring difference compared to his chef's clothes. A more disciplined Th'eon than the version she had grown to love.
"So… all this time you were a spy." A good one too as no one on board had even suspected. Well, except maybe McCoy, who had made implications once or twice that the Andorian was as shifty as could be. Amelia didn't think that really counted against the spy's talents.
Th'eon winked at her, "And you, Amelia-Dear, were a time traveler."
"Touche," she said as she smiled at him. "You think we'll see each other again?"
"Our paths are destined to cross. The Captain is always on the Federation radar after all. And I'm guessing you'll keep growing those tomatoes on Earth. I suppose, when I get back, I'll suffer through seeing McCoy to get a batch." She cried. She couldn't help it. And even though the Andorian wasn't really prone to acts of affection, he hugged her anyway.
Th'eon left her with an Andorian Ushaan-tor to remember him by. And in case that doctor doesn't treat her right.
And then she said goodbye to Richard, whose body would soon be escorted home. There would be a memorial, of course, but she wouldn't be present. It would stars away. Amelia was sure that his brothers would be there. It reminded her of how she hadn't even attended her own parents' funeral. But unlike the time she'd lost them, she was no longer alone. McCoy took leave so that he could be by her side.
Having him with her made it easier to sit in front of her terminal and enter in the request to place a video call. Some beeps sounded and Amelia held her breath until the screen shifted to display the face of Captain Svenquist O'Shea.
His eyes revealed a tiredness that she also felt, but his mouth was turned upwards into a small smile. "Hello, Amelia. How are you doing?" He was a captain, through and through, so it made sense that his first concern was her well-being. She had once been his ward, after all.
She tried to return his small smile, but all that came was a wobble of her mouth and a few new tears. "I think you were right about space not being ready for me."
Of all the reactions she'd expected, she hadn't figured it would be a chuckle. Svenquist laughed, his smile growing. "You know, I'm starting to believe that you were born before your time. I think you were made for space, Amelia Wright."
She thought about that, recognized that, at the end of the day, she was still standing. "I guess it might be growing on me."
Still wearing that small smile, Svenquist nodded, "Richard would like that. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to create a new life here."
"I know."
"You and I are no strangers to loss and we both know the best way to get through it is together." It hadn't been what she'd thought when she first met the O'Shea's, but it was a lesson she learned the moment she started to let people back in. With that thought in mind, she cast a quick look at McCoy over her shoulder. A reminder of how much her heart had opened.
Svenquist continued, "So I expect to see you for Christmas when you get back. I know it's a few years down the road, but Richard made me keep my calendar open when you first left. I don't intend to miss that date now."
"I'll be there. And if you ever need to talk…" About Richard. About anything. Amelia didn't expect he'd ever take her up on the offer, but it was extended none-the-less.
"I know." Then Svenquist straightened up in his chair, his next words firmer, more like an order, "You take care of yourself Amelia Wright."
With as much discipline in her voice as she could muster, she answered back, "Will do, Captain."
The connection ended with a few beeps and the terminal view slid back into her desk. A hand landed on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. McCoy wasn't always the best at knowing what to say, but he knew when to be there.
Wordlessly, he guided her out of the chair and towards the door. Together, they made their way to the dining hall. Lunch was just being served, but with the ship still being connected to the Space Station, many crew members were dining off-site.
Luckily, this allowed the Enterprise's newest crew member a chance to be eased into her role. She was blue, not unlike her predecessor. Down the center of her face ran a protruding ridge. McCoy had told her that Hiana was Bolian and was already processed as a Starfleet contractor on board the Andorian Space Station. A convenient and necessary transition.
"Miss Wright." Hiana gave a slight nod of the head towards Amelia, setting a bowl of red 'soup' on her tray. If Amelia was being honest, it looked weird, even if she was sure it would taste delicious. As she went to move forward, Hiana called out to her, "Thank you for the produce!"
"Anytime!" Amelia called back.
McCoy led them towards the center of the dining hall, where the others waited.
"I think the new diet is going to take some getting used to," Kirk muttered as he tried a spoonful of the soup. Amelia looked down at her own bowl for a longer look. It was thick and gloopy. McCoy grumbled something about vitamins and the captain scowled as he had some more.
"Aye. Tis no 'aggis for sure." Amelia's face scrunched up at Scotty's words, a look reflected on McCoy's face. Haggis would probably never be on the menu. Hopefully.
"I don't know. I think we are due for a change." Across the table a soft female voice sounded. Amelia wasn't sure if Uhura was being philosophical or not, but either way she didn't disagree. A change would be welcome.
They ate together, shared some laughs about memories of pirates and plants. Of colonies and anomalies. A few times Amelia just sat back and listened as they told stories of times before her, of which there were many.
Then the Captain announced that launch was coming up and it was time for station preparations. The crew slowly made their way back on board as Amelia and McCoy headed towards the hydroponics bay.
Mark Dualla had done a fine job in keeping it fully operation during her absence, but she could see he was ready to return to doing a single job instead of two.
McCoy paced by the table at the front of the bay as Amelia started to go over inventory. When he didn't broach the topic on his mind, she did it for him.
"I'll come by later for an exam." He visibly relaxed. Since her exposure to the virus she'd undergone more testing in the past week than in her entire life. Two days before, she blew up on him about how she was sick and tired of all the medical nonsense and she just wanted to get back to work. Other things were said about how if she wasn't a goddamn prisoner of the med-bay then he needed to stop tracking her every move on the ship. Enough expletives left her that even he was left shocked.
"Thank you." The fact that he managed to muster that one up had her smiling. Encouraged, he added, "Last one. I swear."
"Good." She set down her data-padd and walked back over to where he stood. Indicating to her body, Amelia assured him, "I feel fine. I feel great."
Sighing, McCoy placed a hand on her upper arm, "I won't lose you. Not to some residual illness."
"I'm starting to think you have a soft spot for me, McCoy."
"You terrify me, woman." He touched his palms to her face, a move she was quite familiar with. So when he leaned in to kiss her she met him halfway. There was no desperation, no hard pressure and no fear. It was soft and slow and held promise. Like relearning one another. But it was ended far too soon as he pulled back with an annoyed sigh, "Bad timing. Gotta prep the bay for departure."
"So, if I get an all clear on this exam, does that mean…" Amelia waved a hand between them, not particularly subtle. His hands, which had fallen to her shoulders, briefly tightened.
"You couldn't wait until after work to start this?" She kissed him again, laughed against his mouth. McCoy disregarded the chirping on his communicator. Though when hers went off it could no longer be ignored.
She snapped the device off her belt and held it to her ear. "Wright and McCoy," she said into it.
There was an exaggerated sigh on the other end, "And here I was hoping that you wouldn't be a bad influence on Bones."
"I don't know what you mean, Captain."
"Tell him that comms are not optional." The call ended with a beep.
"Guess that's your cue."
"If there isn't adventure that man goes stir-crazy, and he can't launch until the Med-Bay is ready." One more gentle touch of his lips to hers and then he headed out of the hydroponics bay.
She stared at the sliding doors for a while, contemplating their relationship. They didn't define it exactly, just sort of let it be whatever it was. Some days that was McCoy being grouchy and her being understanding. Others it was him being heroic and her being in awe. There were moments when she wondered what exactly it was about McCoy that she found endearing, and then he'd remind her by doing something equally reckless and brilliant.
Her chest felt tight when she thought about those days that he'd spent unconscious with the virus and how she wondered what the ship would be like without him. How integrated he was into her life and the lives of those around him. There wouldn't be grumbling in the cafeteria. Or someone to keep the Captain grounded. There wouldn't be a steady hand on her back.
As much as he'd tried to keep people at a distance, he hadn't succeeded. Not even with her.
Amelia smiled as she turned around to look at the hydroponics bay. It needed repair and love and some stability. A very unique reflection of herself…
STARDATE 2260.193
Beta Quadrant
USS Enterprise
As soon as the last crew member was back on board, they launched. McCoy ran through the standard checks of the Med-bay, did another inventory. While he'd been on leave his medical assistant had restocked the supplies used during the quarantine.
There were moments when he'd be overwhelmed with an image of her, sick and lying on the floor. Or eyes glassy as she stared up at him. He told himself he'd moved some of the beds around due to efficiency, but a part of him recognized that he couldn't stand in the spot she'd died for any length of time.
He wondered what that meant. How far she'd burrowed into him.
And he was still thinking about it when she showed up in his med-bay, almost twelve hours later. She looked tired and was covered in dirt, but her eyes were bright and lively. In one hand she was carrying a bag.
The implication wasn't missed.
"Bit presumptuous," McCoy said as drew a blood sample. When she tilted her head, he pointed to the bag.
"Oh. Well, Doctor, I had high hopes, but if-"
"Now, now, no need to be rash. I suppose we can work something out." He grinned at her and felt his breath catch when she smiled back at him. Smitten. Lost. Christ.
He loved her.
Somehow, he managed to finish the exam. She passed with flying colors. Perfect health.
He told her when they stepped into his room and she dropped her bag to the floor. "I love you. Disaster and all." Then he showed her exactly how much he loved her.
They lay exhausted an hour later, breathing heavily in the dim light of his quarters. Her arm was thrown across his chest, lazy and familiar. Amelia traced patterns on his arm with her fingers. He knew she was still hurting inside, but for this moment he could almost feel her healing.
"I love you too, McCoy. Grump and all."
It was terrifying and exhilarating. Like skydiving. Nothing he would ever do alone, but something he would do with her.
He drifted off to her quiet rhythmic breathing, felt more relaxed that he had in months.
Until hours later when the alarms began blaring and Jim's voice came across the ship.
"Prepare for contact. All hands to Battle stations."
STARDATE 2501.013
M. J. Archer Base Camp
Antarctica
Captain Jefferson reviewed the mission logs, eye scanning the report for any anomalies. Over a hundred jumps in almost a decade and he still found himself checking for tampering. He tapped on the data padd, pulled up the personal report from the pilot.
"Target reached. Stardate 2317.059. Spotted rogue traveler's chroniton signature…" The report continued on to detail the capture of a time traveler who violated the Temporal Prime Directive. Eli didn't miss the irony of having that assignment.
When he completed his review, he marked the mission as successful and filed the record away.
He was just about to open another report when a woman stepped into his office. "Commander?"
"Captain, there is an incoming call for you. From the Domestic Defense Officer." Eli didn't need to answer the call to know what was happening. Nine years ago, after their return with the vaccination, they went to work on establishing Protocol 862. The first stage was a call from the DDO.
Still, he opened his terminal.
"Captain Jefferson. I have a file in my hands that give me strict instructions to contact you. Now, are you going to tell me why that is?" The man was obviously confused, but Eli couldn't blame him. On paper all they did was run a research center in the Antarctic for time travel.
Eli's first question, by the book, "Where did the virus hit?"
"The transport hub in New York City."
"I'm going to send out a mass transport through the emergency system. I need you to shut down all traffic for a one minute window in-" Eli glanced at the time, "-five minutes. Can you do that?"
The DDO turned away from his terminal, spoke to some officers off screen, then returned with, "We can."
There had been many discussions on what they should do with the vaccination. Should they be pre-emptive and make it a standard inoculation? Should they alert Starfleet? They decided against the inoculation. If they took away this weapon from terrorists there was no knowing what they would use instead.
So they developed Protocol 862.
Eli disconnected the call with the DDO. Stage one was complete.
He walked around the bunker, gathering every crew member he could find and ushered them down the stairs. The lower level was rarely used, which is why it had made the perfect staging ground for the second step.
They had tunneled further into the ground, prepped hundreds of climate controlled crates. Lining the walls were several transporter pods, each one labeled. New York City. London. San Francisco. Dallas. New Dubai. Major hubs across the world.
There were replicator schematics, should the possibility arise that they did not have enough of the live vaccine.
Eli checked the time, then started moving the crates towards the transporter pods. When he was certain that they would make the deadline, he left the team to finish.
Back in his office, he made another call. Across vast distances and solar systems.
To New Vulcan. "Hello, T'Janis."
"Greetings." Unsurprisingly, she wasn't smiling.
"I'm preparing to launch the ships on their maiden voyage. They aren't registered the same so you'll have to work on getting the clearance."
"We will accept their arrival. Thank you."
Short and direct. Ever a Vulcan. Eli placed two more phone calls, to two Starfleet Captains. They were well qualified for the mission, and easily accepted command of the ships. Protocol 862 allowed them to choose their own crew.
Within three days they would take the two ships into the air, transporting with them the future of humanity and the Vulcan race.
Eli pulled up the pictures of the two ships they had commissioned, looked over the pristine lettering on the side.
Federation Transport AMELIA WRIGHT
Federation Transport LEONARD MCCOY