Chapter Text
“Commander,” said Lt. Cmdr. Data from his position at ops, “sensors indicate a sudden energy reading in space. Bearing 062-mark-287.”
Commander Riker squinted from the captain’s chair. “Can you be more specific, Data?”
“I cannot, sir. It does not correspond to any known energy patterns.”
Riker glanced at Counselor Troi. “It’s always the unknown energies,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. She met his glance and smiled briefly, but her smile faded as she looked back at the viewscreen.
“What can you tell me about it?” asked Riker.
“It appears to be emanating from a fixed point in space, but there does not appear to be a physical source,” said Data. He paused and furrowed his brow. “It is coming from an area that is… perfectly rectangular in shape.”
Riker frowned and stood up. “Perfectly rectangular?” he asked, approaching the ops station.
“The dimensions of the area are in a ratio of 1 to 4 to 9,” Data said. “It appears to be aligned vertically.”
“Put a visual of the area onscreen.”
The viewscreen switched to show what appeared to be an empty patch of space.
Riker narrowed his eyes. “Looks like nothing’s there,” he said. “Is it a--?”
Before he could ask if it was a sensor malfunction, a star in his field of vision seemed to vanish. His eyes widened.
“From our position, the stars are moving behind the source of the energy,” Data explained. “The source itself is not moving or changing. It appears totally inert.”
“Knowing our luck, it probably won’t be inert for very long,” Riker said. He tapped his communicator badge. “Riker to Picard.”
“--Go ahead, Number One.”
“We’re detecting an unknown energy in the surrounding area. It’s perfectly rectangular, but without a physical source,” Riker said, and waited.
“--Acknowledged. I’m on my way.”
***
By the time Captain Picard arrived on the bridge, Data had configured the viewscreen to show a digital outline around the energy pattern. A thin blue line separated a rectangular patch of void from the normal space around it.
“Did this energy reading simply… appear in space?” Picard asked, looking at the unusual patch.
“Yes, sir,” said Data. “One moment the sensors picked up nothing unusual, and then--”
Before he could finish, a white object shot out from the void directly towards the Enterprise, triggering automatic yellow alert.
“Keep the viewscreen trained on that object,” Picard ordered, sitting in the captain’s chair.
The viewscreen switched to track it. The object was roughly spherical, and mostly white with symmetrical black areas on either side. It had two multi-jointed arms on either side of what appeared to be the front face, with a small window in between.
“This design is of no known make or origin, Captain,” Data said. “It appears to have originated from the energy source.”
“Mr. Worf?” Picard asked.
Lieutenant Worf entered commands at his station. “The object has no weapons and…” He looked up. “No shields.”
“Sensors indicate the vessel does not have the capacity for shields, sir,” Data said. He looked at the viewscreen and tilted his head slightly. “Curious.”
Picard frowned and tugged downwards on his uniform shirt. “Open a hailing frequency,” he said.
Worf did so. “Vessel is not responding to our hail,” he said. He looked more closely at his panel. “Correction. It did not receive the signal.”
Picard and Riker looked at each other.
“That’s odd,” Picard murmured.
“No weapons, no shields, can’t receive our hail?” Riker said. “Is anyone aboard?”
“One life sign, Commander,” Data responded.
Picard looked over at Troi. “Counselor?”
She looked out at the viewscreen, which showed the spherical vessel still barreling through space. Her brow furrowed. “It’s difficult to get a reading, Captain. Whoever it is, they’re close to unconsciousness, but… I’m getting the sense of being totally overwhelmed.”
Picard stood up. “Have Chief O’Brien prepare to transport the occupant to Transporter Room 5, and bring the vessel into Shuttle Bay 4 after it has been vacated.”
Data prepared a tractor beam. “Tractor beam locked on successfully,” he said.
"Ensign Crusher, full stop. Hold this position."
"Aye, sir," said Wesley, bringing the Enterprise to a stop in front of the energy field.
The captain nodded to Riker and Worf, who both moved to accompany him to the transporter room. “Mr. Data, you have the bridge,” Picard said.
“Riker to sickbay,” the commander said, stepping into the turbolift. “Doctor Crusher, meet us at Transporter Room 5.”
“--On my way, Commander.”
“Let’s see what this is all about,” said the captain as the doors closed.
***
“Strange,” said O’Brien. “It’s human, but… everything is just a little bit outside the normal parameters energy-wise.” He watched his display panel. “It’s stabilizing now. I’ll account for fluctuations when transporting.”
Worf shifted his stance. “Recommend caution, Captain.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Picard said. “An energy fluctuation is not necessarily indicative of hostility.”
Doctor Crusher stepped into the transporter room with a medical kit. She nodded to the captain before turning her attention to the transporter pad.
“Energize,” Picard said.
A humanoid figure slowly materialized in front of them. As it came into focus, the crewmen saw that the figure was wearing a bright red space suit with a tapered helmet. It resembled 20th century space suits more than anything else. Buttons and hoses covered the front of the suit in a configuration that none of them had ever seen before.
The figure’s eyes could be seen through the helmet’s window. They were terrified.
After just a moment, the figure in the space suit fell, limp, to the floor.
***
Color. Such color outside. Inside, electronic hum. A world inside the pod of quiet sounds and flashes, buttons winking frantically. Hum and turbulence. The pod in freefall, a leaf on a cosmic wind. Outside-- a world that was not a world. A world of inverted gravity and impossible geometry, shapes turning and tumbling, colliding and reforming. All the colors! More than he’d ever thought possible in one place! So many that he could see, and so many more that he felt passing through him.
Light was streaming viciously into the porthole. All of the flashing screens and buttons were doused with flickering kaleidoscope light. The light tore along dotted lines and reformed to flash and merge into entirely new colors. He’d closed his eyes more than once, but it was hopeless. The light filled his vision as if he had no eyelids at all.
Space was twisting around him. Raw, unfiltered universe. One by one, each system in his pod went silent, leaving him alone with his breathing. Was he really alive? It was impossible to tell. He could control nothing. Total helplessness, at the mercy of the color and the light.
Such was the monolith.
He tried to grasp at anything. It was as though the light was trying to wipe him clean. Discovery-- Jupiter, Saturn-- Hal--
Suddenly all the light seemed to bend away, partially blocked out. He watched as a black rectangle (another monolith?) grew larger in front of the pod. He could see nothing beyond. He would crash--!
His hands flew to cover his helmeted face--
The light vanished--
…
He slowly lowered his hands. The light was gone. In its place were normal stars.
What--?
His heartbeat smashed its way into his awareness, so rapid and strong that it hurt. He leaned forward to see more outside the porthole. His eyes widened, his face went slack.
Looming above the pod, rapidly growing larger in his field of vision, was an absolutely enormous spacecraft. Five times the length of the Discovery, it gleamed silver, glowing red and blue in different places. Windows winked all around the saucer that yawned above him. The cylinders on either side pulsed with visible energy. The power, the sheer scope of it--
He sat back, breathing hard. He had only gotten a glimpse, but that was enough. It felt like spikes were piercing his stomach at odd intervals. Of all the times to unravel--!
The pod slowed, suddenly but gently, as a blue glow engulfed it. Although he was no longer leaning forward, the pod’s trajectory meant that he could see the glow emanating from the bottom of the strange craft. He came to a stop, held in the beam.
For several moments, all was still and silent. Then, all at once, he began to dissolve.
His vision faded entirely, but as the sensation ebbed his sight returned. His feet were on solid ground now, and he was standing-- on a glowing platform in a well-lit room. A few feet away, several figures watched him reform. They were wearing some kind of uniform… black, with primary colors. One of them wore a blue laboratory coat. Another had a forehead that seemed to be…
The colors. The light.
Somehow it was all too much. Something inside him came undone. In the clean, well-lighted room, Dave Bowman was unconscious before he hit the floor.
***
“Crusher to sickbay, medical emergency, I need a stretcher in Transporter Room 5,” the doctor said into her communicator badge, kneeling down beside the unconscious figure and pulling out her tricorder. “The transporter may have caused some kind of shock,” she continued. “I don’t want to risk another one.” She began to examine the helmet, trying to figure out how to remove it--and if she should.
“Some kind of malfunction?” Picard asked, wheeling to face O’Brien.
“No, sir,” O’Brien said quickly, “I was able to compensate for the unusual fluctuations. Should be all there.” The captain nodded briskly.
Riker peered through the helmet’s visor. Whoever it was appeared to be a human male, with a rounded nose and a strong brow. He appeared troubled even while unconscious.
“Is the suit keeping him alive?” Riker asked.
Dr. Crusher shook her head, passing her hand scanner across the figure’s chest. “He’s human… The air inside the suit is the same kind of air that we’re breathing,” she murmured. “Looks like it’s modeled after early Earth spacesuits.”
She stood up as the medical team came through the doorway. They quickly but gently moved the unconscious man onto the stretcher, careful not to jostle any of his equipment.
Picard watched them leave, then turned to the remaining senior officers. “Mr. Worf, establish minimal security in sickbay, have them alert me when he regains consciousness,” he said. “Commander Riker, meet Mr. LaForge and an engineering team in Shuttle Bay 4 to inspect the vessel. We’ll reconvene in the observation lounge after our guest wakes up. Dismissed.”
The officers scattered to their assignments.
***
The first thing Dave became aware of was a pervasive rumble. It surrounded his body, covering him like a blanket. It was comforting, familiar. It conjured up old memories. He was on a ship, laying in his bed in an aft cabin, slowly waking up from a very deep nap, the kind of nap that leaves you fuzzy for hours. He knew that sound anywhere, the sound of a ship’s engine. Curious, though… no rocking.
Wait--
Dave jolted to a sitting position, his heart rate spiking. Someone appeared at his side instantly-- the one in the blue coat from the well-lit room. “Hey, it’s alright. Relax,” she said, placing a hand on his (uncovered?) arm. He relaxed a little as soon as he heard her voice, and slowly lay back down.
The doctor pulled out a small device that emitted a fluttering noise as she passed it over his chest. Dave looked at her for several seconds. She had red, shoulder-length hair that curled gently, and a kind, narrow face. His heart slowly calmed.
“Who are you?” he asked, barely above a whisper. His voice felt shot. Had he been screaming?
The doctor pulled her device away and faced him. “I’m your doctor,” she said with a smile. “My name is Beverly Crusher. You’re aboard the Enterprise.”
Dave closed his eyes. “I came from Discovery,” he murmured.
He felt Doctor Crusher shift beside him. “The Discovery?” she repeated. Dave heard her effort to keep her tone from being too incredulous.
“What did you do to me?” Dave said.
The doctor didn’t respond immediately. He opened his eyes to see her concerned expression. “You… I injected you with something to help your body process the excess cortisol from your stress response--”
“I was in my pod, and then I wasn’t,” he said slowly. Now that the wave of panic had passed, his whole body felt like dead weight. It was getting harder to form sentences. “I’ve never seen… don’t know how…”
Doctor Crusher stood over him, checking her tricorder as he went quiet. She injected him with something to keep him conscious, drew the medical blanket over his chest, and tapped her communicator. “Crusher to bridge,” she said.
“--What is it, Doctor?”
“Captain, you’d better get down here,” she said. “Our patient is awake. He says he’s from the Discovery.”