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Meticulously chosen for their talent and abilities, the crew of the starship Jade became a family on their mission. Crewmembers falling in love, starting families together, cultivating lives on the ship beyond their duty. Time and time again in the darkest hours his command Captain Richard Tozier has always been able to rely on the support and guidance of his crew. Most valuable of all in return his crew knows they can trust their captain’s instincts. The wisest man is the one who knows to ask for help. Richard Tozier has spent a lifetime trying to be wise.
“I don’t know how it happened, Patty I just don’t. One second I was tearing open a control panel, the next I’m flat on my back being escorted to medical.”
“Well Lieutenant Marsh, Ensign Ripsom said she saw you stand up too fast and hit your head on an overhanging support rod.”
“Ja självklart, that would explain some things.”
Head nurse Patricia Blum helps Lieutenant Marsh onto an exam table. Using a tricorder Patty scans her blond friend’s head, and visually checks her for the physical signs of a concussion. This is when the chief medical officer, Stanly Uris notices a new patient in his medical bay.
“Ben!”
“Oh no. Don’t let him bother me about this, Patty. It wasn’t even an electrical shock this time.”
“It looks like it’s too late to stop him.”
Stanley storms over to the dizzy engineer, pulling up her file to study for damages. Impatient with his datapad the doctor taps his foot as it loads page after page of injury reports. A plasma burn, a broken collar bone, shrapnel damage, falls from high places, he becomes more frustrated as he refreshes his mind. As the Chief Engineer Ben’s work is dangerous, and she happens to be one of the most accident prone crewmembers on the entire ship. Patty offers Ben a comforting look, then rolls her eyes at Stan’s loud sign.
“I’ve told you many times now, Lieutenant-”
“Oh don’t call me that, Stan,” they talk over each other.
“I said if you end up back in here for electrocuting yourself I’d be putting you on mandatory medical leave for a week at least! A month if I can convince the Captain, who won’t be happy to hear you’re in my medbay again!”
“Richie won't let you bench me! This ship would fall apart without me holding it together! Besides I didn’t electrocute myself this time, wise guy,” Ben says this straightening with pride, “I have a concussion.”
She’s smug, and Patty looks to her husband. A small smile graces her Vulcan lips and he blushes for a moment at the sight.
“Oh yes, Ben. Brag about your concussion,” Stan hardly gives Ben a glance, instead he stares into Patty’s eyes.
Red light flashes on the screen of the head nurse’s tricorder signaling the completion of her scan. Patty breaks eye contact to study the results for a moment before adding them directly to Ben’s patient file.
“You’ll need a hypospray to speed up the healing, I’ll add your hormones so you won’t have to come back next week for them.,” Patty pats Ben’s hand, “If you remember the last time you’ll feel a little warm during the night, maybe some back pain, but that’s all.”
Ben looks more relaxed, and from their contact, Patty can feel her emotions change from apprehension to determination.
“You have a very minor concussion, Ben,” Stan claims Ben's attention once again, to give Patty a chance to prepare the hypospray, “Get plenty of rest for the remainder of the day. If you do that, I’ll clear you for your shift in the morning.”
“We’ll program the shot with something for your headache and any nausea you may be feeling later,” before Ben can object, Patty quickly administers the hypospray to her neck.
“Din jävla-! Ow Patricia!”
“Sorry, Ben,” Patty pats her on the back, “It really shouldn’t have hurt.”
“It didn’t, I was just surprised,” Ben is rubbing her sore neck, glaring from one friend to the other, “You both say it should not hurt and yet it does every time!”
Unsteady, Ben stands, feeling nausea she was warned about.
“Thank you both. I suppose I’ll head to my quarters, call Beverly and tell her what happened.”
“That sounds like a good idea, dear. Turn your lights to half power, and do very little tonight.” Patty studies her friend and sees she’ll need a little help getting to her quarters.
Patty walks Ben out to the lift, but when her patient insists she can make it the rest of the way on her own, the nurse returns to her station. As she enters she overhears the end of a conversation Stan is having with the Bridge.
“Yes, I understand. I’ll be right there.”
“What do we have?”
“Not sure yet, but it sounds... significant.”
The bridge crew waits for the last of the senior staff to assemble before putting down their urgent work. As the essential members trickle onto the flight deck each does their best to insert themselves into the translations and calculations being done all around. Ben will be briefed individually later, making the final member to arrive the Captain himself. For the past ten minutes since waking up, before stepping onto the turbo lift Richie Tozier has been reading the night crew’s urgent update. His first officer had called to brief him on the situation and he used that time to quickly find a clean yellow shirt to pull over his black turtleneck. His boots erratically tossed off after his long shift the day before were more difficult to find.
Now with a practiced air of confidence, all eyes are on Captain Tozier as he makes his way directly to the briefing room. The staff who know to join him do so quickly, most of them bringing their work along. The moment the doors close Richie puts the datapad down onto the table and looks around the room.
“Alright people, let’s get on the same page. Commander Kaspbrak, break it down for us,” Tozier motions to his first officer.
“I took command of the bridge at 0100 ship-time. At 0427 hours, Communications Officer Marsh picked up a deep space transmission of unknown origin. Computers were unable to translate the language, but Lieutenant Marsh was able to recognize certain language elements in one section of the message reminiscent of ancient Klingon. Using that as a basis her team was able to determine the message is one of urgent distress. Following Federation protocol, we must rfespond to all calls for aid. We have charted a course to the source in an attempt to gain more information."
“A distress signal this far into uncharted space,” the Captain smiles, looking around the room, “even if they’ve contacted ancient Klingons this could be the first contact for the Federation. Can I hear the distress signal?”
Beverly has the message playing on a loop in her headphones, so she answers the captain. As she does so she accesses the controls to the room speakers.
“I can play the message, Captain. I’ll only play a clip, and I warn those who haven’t heard it, even with the volume low it’s somewhat difficult to listen to for an extended period. I suspect it is due to the quality of the audio and not the language itself, though it does reach high registers that are more uncomfortable for other species.”
Before playing the message Beverly motions to Eddie who, having heard it many times, covers his ears. A distorted message comes in through the intercom, many of the senior staff flinch at the high-pitched squeals that make up the language. If there’s a message of distress hidden inside no one, but Beverly Marsh can tell.
“Alright, I think we’ve all heard enough. Thank you, Red.”
“Betazoids have more limited abilities to sense emotions through recorded messages, but there are some strong emotions here. The strongest feelings are sadness, desperation, and hope.”
“What sort of species even makes sounds like that,” Stanly asks.
“We believe the original message contained a visual element incompatible with our technology,” Eddie explains, showing off his datapad of complex code, “I have the computer running a program to process the data. Perhaps with time, I’ll be able to show you exactly who makes those sounds.”
Beverly smiles as he looks around the room, there is a clear sense of excitement coming off of the crew. This will mark the Jade’s first contact with an unknown alien species since their mission began four years ago. Now on their return journey, no one was anticipating something like this.
“I gave a portion of the message we suspect represents coordinates to the Hanlons to focus on. Bill, why don’t you take it away,” Beverly concludes her debriefing.
“We’re still too far away for clear telemetry of the region, but Mike helped me translate a portion of the message we believe are coordinates to their home planet.”
“There’s a chance the closer we get to the message source the more we’ll be able to receive as well,” Mike continues for him.
“Well done, Navigations. Red, keep me updated if the message quality shifts. In the meantime apply whatever crew you need to continue your translation.”
“Aye Captain, I believe with Eddie’s past research into Klingon history he may be invaluable to investigating that angle of the translation."
Beverly looks to the Vulcan first officer who nods in understanding and agrees to join her.
“That will conclude the debrief for the senior staff, you all know what to do. I’ll have a word with my first officer in private.”
The captain looks to his crew who excitedly shuffle out to continue their work. His eyes finally fall on his first officer who shows nothing on his face.
“What do you think, Eds? First contact.”
“Eddie or First Officer will be more than sufficient, Captain." Richie snorts, they've known each other since Eddie's father immigrated to an Earth colony in their shared youth. A childhood nickname Eddie has fought to keep out of his professional life.
"As for first contact, it’s almost a certainty at this point. It is telling that they are so desperate for aid they would broadcast the location of their home planet. Especially if they had contact with ancient Klingons as we suspect. If a species like the Borg for instance had discovered this signal before us, they could be obliterated in their desperate hour. It’s possible even that once we arrive at the coordinates we will find nothing, but ash.”\
“A dark line of thinking.”
“It’s logical.”
“If somewhat hopeless.”
“That is not true, though there is a time for hope, when planning the first contact with a species of unknown origin and power we must be cautious.”
"I agree, however now is when we need hope more than ever."
They stop talking for a moment. There is a nearly imperceptible sadness on the face of the Vulcan first officer, and Richie is surprised to see it.
“I do not want to find ash, but someone must consider the risks.”
Richie understands and pats his friend’s shoulder. Eddie clenches his jaw but says nothing. Instead, the first officer nods his goodbye to rejoin Beverly at the communications terminal.
On the bridge viewscreen, a video message repeats once more on a loop. In it, a creature resembling a large Earth rodent tries to explain to unknown forces in an unknown language what they are searching for. An animated swirl of color appears on the screen and Eddie pauses the video.
“They’re describing a chemical compound?”
“Yes, I believe so, Captain. If you look here,” Mike isolates an area of the video, “Eddie pointed out this looks remarkably like how early Klingons depicted chemical elements. With that in mind, this looks like nitrogen, this is oxygen, and so on. What these chemicals mean will take time to decipher and what they create well… That’s why we’ve got recruited a whole unit of chemists.”
“We believe the crew dropping the distress beacons have been traveling through space seeking the chemicals described in their message. They reference a home planet and a massive number of their population.”
“It’s possible we could replicate what they need, but the composition and quantities would be vitally important,” Patty says, one of the chemists working on a rapidly growing team, “Have we made direct contact with them yet?”
“Not yet, Commander. We should arrive at our destination tomorrow morning, hopefully ," he emphasizes catching the Captain's eye, "to clear channels of communication.”
Eddie plays the video once more - muted for his sake - until a detailed star chart appears, then he pauses the screen.
“We expect these coordinates will lead to instantaneous communications in time, but we have no concept of how old this message is. I believe we should attempt to send a subspace response,” Mike says.
“Agreed. Marsh, Uris, Kaspbrak focus on these translations and try to compose a response. I’d love it if we could send them a picture of an Earth mouse. So figure that out. I think they’d really get a kick out of it.”
“Do not do that, lieutenant commander,” Eddie corrects immediately.
Richie can't help his bark of laughter.
Rested and ready for action, Ben makes her way to the bridge. Yesterday, Beverly was able to give a more thorough debriefing on the new aliens after she returned to their quarters. Beverly, half Betazoid developed a sympathetic headache from Ben the second she walked into the cabin. Ben felt guilty, but Beverly assured her the best thing for it would be for the both of them to rest. Which is how they ended up sleeping on the couch instead of their more comfortable mattress.
The communications officer had wanted to continue working on the translations throughout the night, but curled up with her wife on the couch she couldn’t resist the joy of a small nap. When she awoke Beverly had to pry the datapad out of Ben’s hands more than once, both of their headaches made worse by the light of the screen. They compromised when Bev agreed to explain the methodology of her translations.
Now on the bridge of the Jade, recently cleared for duty Ben’s jaw drops as she steps off of the turbolift. She wasn’t expecting to see live footage of an ornately dressed rodent on the view screen. Ben regains her composure quickly and moves to join her wife on the other side of the control room.
“Can they hear us right now," she asks conspiratorially.
“No, we’ve just made contact. We’re still scanning each other.”
“You didn’t mention they look like little mice, älskling.”
“Riche said the same thing! I didn’t grow up on Earth. I don’t know about every little mammal that lives there.”
“Red, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Beverly takes her place beside the Captain.
“Big Bill, open comms,” the captain says.
The conversation is stunted at first, but Beverly is one of the best translators in the federation. Her team was able to design a subroutine that would allow the universal translator to instantaneously assess the Ronagare language. It’s a slow struggle, but they are communicating. The language was distorted badly by the poor quality of the original signal, but they used that for their testing.
“Can you… understand me?”
There is a joyous energy among the bridge crew as the small alien’s voice comes through the speakers clearly!
“We can!”
“Amazing!”
There are still many words and phrases the translators simply cannot handle. They move quickly to the urgent matter that led to the creation of the distress signal in the first place. The Ronagare are looking for a chemical compound, something needed to save the life of what they refer to as their, “Core Machine.”
Richie with Beverly’s help explains the ship’s replicator technology, assuring the Ronagare that with the right formula they should be able to produce the chemical then transport it down to their home planet.
“Ah, that will be the difficult part. The electric storms on the surface of our home world make the atmosphere extremely dangerous. There are small windows where ship travel is possible, though the storms make electric systems somewhat unpredictable at times.”
“Light transporters would be out of the question through this, Rich,” Ben quietly supplies for the crew.
“You offer so much to us, but we must ask, do you have a small ship to transport the chemicals? Large ships like ours must wait for the storms to clear considerably more than a small cargo ship, though our nearest one is still days away from us now.”
“We do, I speak for my entire crew when I say it would be our tremendous honor to take the cargo to the surface of your world.”
“Not the surface, but below it. My people cannot live a life in these storms so my species has dug our cities into the crust of our planet. Where the roots of the core machine make up the structures of our home. To save the core machine would be to preserve our way of life.”
The away team is selected from the volunteers, the captain’s strong desire to command the away team is stopped when Eddie pointedly volunteers to lead the mission. It is against star fleet protocol for the captain to accompany any away mission, but especially one with such high risk. Richie knows this quite well from the dozens of times he’s had an argument with his first mate on the topic.
Ben is selected to pilot the ship, Stan to ensure the safe transport of the fairly large tanker of chemicals requested by the Ronagare, and finally Eddie to lead the mission. The ship is prepared and given a thorough flight check before take off. The Ronagare advise on the best opportunities to pass through the storm, and the crew bides their time for an opening.
When the ship is struck by enough electricity to fry the systems no one expects it. There are no words exchanged, the moment is defined by shocked silence. The crew of the Jade watch the screens as their friends and family crashland on an alien planet. Completely out of reach.
The Ronagare are the first to respond. Accustomed to the dangers of traversing the skies of their world and prepared to rush the crash site with a rescue team. Meanwhile Richie takes control of the atmosphere of the bridge before anyone can panic.
“We’re going down after them as soon as the next window to do so opens. Mike, when will that be?”
“Two hours Captain,” Mike knows he will not be on the next crew going down, but he looks to Beverly, certain no force will keep her off the mission.
“Then let’s prepare a shuttle and replicate the compound again. There’s a chance they lost it in the crash. Bill, hail the Ronagare, Beverly stand by for the translation.”
Bill follows the command, happy to have an order to follow.
“Captain Tozier I’m so sorry for the terrible crash. We have been sent a message from the core machine, your crew has been taken into the Machine to heal.”
“The machine is a medical device. You speak of it as shelter, and a food supply, what exactly is it?”
“The core machine is that and much more than that. To the Ronagare it is a way of life. It is,” the alien captain says a word the translator cannot pick up.
“Beverly?”
“My best guess would be a word like, afterlife.”
“Is the core machine going to harm my crew?”
“No, Captain, it will heal them. However it occurs to me that in order to do so we may need another of your crew members to volunteer to enter the core machine. It will use the data of your crew to heal the others, but your first officer is not the same species as they are is he? The machine may not be able to heal his body without the reference of another of his kind.”
“He’s not fully human, no,” Richie doesn’t get a chance to look at Patty before she has stepped forward to volunteer for the rescue mission.
Richie will lead the mission protocol be damned, the only person who could talk him out of it is on an alien world, plugged into a mysterious machine. The trip down goes much smoother, and as Richie pilots the ship into the underground hangar he is tremendously thankful to no one in particular.
The walls of the underground world glow with a bioluminescent fungus, cultivated as a simple light source. The crew is greeted by a small trio of Ronagare ambassadors, who stand at their full height well below knee level.
“It is our joy to have you here, our first contact with a species from the outside world. We wish it was under better circumstances. Your crew was able to successfully deliver the compound for us, with our sincere gratitude. Please follow us and we will take you to them.”
“Are they alright?”
“They are recovering, the light haired woman is out of the core machine already. Though her legs were badly broken.”
“You must mean, Ben,” Richie looks to Beverly who stretches her telepathic powers to search for her wife.
Faintly, but perceptively she touches the edges of Ben’s mind. She is overcome with relief as she’s met with feelings of tired joy. She also feels for Eddie and Stan, but finds nothing.
“Please follow us closely. You will be the volunteer to enter perhaps?”
One of the ambassadors directs this question to Patty, the only Vulcan member of the away team. Patty nods, and Richie supplies an addition.
“I’ll be going in as well.”
“This is a good idea, we think. We believe one of your crew members may be having a hard time leaving the machine. His hands were badly shattered in the crash, but he is healed enough to leave. It is hard to exit the machine if you are unhappy, or if you are too happy in the world that exists inside. To have a commanding officer escort them out should give them a tremendous advantage.”
“My husband is not unhappy,” Patty says, without thinking better of it.
“Unhappiness is not always so easy to see. We have discovered even the most joyful man when faced with paradise, cannot bear the life he once loved.”
Patty feels angry by that statement. Her Vulcan demeanor does not betray those feelings to the group, but Beverly can feel it.
“Paradise?”
“The world inside the core machine is beautiful, you can be truly free there, and freedom is a powerful alluring force.”
The group makes its way into the medical bay, tightly packed dirt floors and glossy dirt walls. The structures are supported by thick tree stumps that seem to weave in and out of the walls. Few medical machines can be seen by the naked eye, only large chambers surrounding the walls. Two are occupied by their crew members, both visibly injured still. They continue past them for now, to speak with Ben.
She is happy and somewhat disoriented. Sharing her simple bed are four other Ronogene. One is petting her hair while she tells them about her life in Sweedish. The others seem to have fallen asleep, cuddling one another.
“Ben,” Beverly rushes to her wife, and kisses her the second she’s in range.
“Bev, älskling, I’m so happy to see you. I was telling Peaches how I met you.”
“Peaches?”
“They let me give them nicknames,” Ben pets one of their sleeping heads, “They say contact is helpful after leaving the core machine.”
“We’re going in after Eddie and Stan, is there any intel you have about the world inside the machine?”
“Not much. It’s a big beautiful world, it reminds me a lot of Earth actually. They say when you die out here, you are placed in the machine and your mind lives on forever inside. They said that’s why they put us inside, in case we didn’t make it.”
“You did make it though,” Beverly says, and kisses her wife’s sweaty forehead.
“We did, Eddie isn’t healing right. He got hurt pretty badly, well we all did, but they said he’s not healing like he should. He wasn’t acting quite himself either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s just that, I know Eddie’s a fun guy, and you all do as well, but sometimes it’s like he doesn’t know that. In there he was smiling, and happy, he was acting almost human.”
They don’t waste any time entering the machine, Patty and Richie are led to their own pods, next to their respective crewmates. Patty approaches the tank with her husband inside, touches the cool glass with her fingertips. Richie’s strong desire to do the same to Eddie’s tank is his own secret to carry.
The two step into the machine. They hardly have time to consider their next actions when suddenly everything goes black. When they open their eyes again it is in a glowing field of grass the color of a golden sunset. Far in the distance they see the unmistakable blue uniforms of their friends, and they jog over to them.
Eddie is resting his head on Stan’s lap. An unusual sight for two reasons. First, Eddie is a nervous sleeper, and does not sleep well when others are nearby. Though his gentle smile gives him the appearance of a relaxing dream. Second, Eddie tends to avoid physical contact with others. Disliking the way his touch telepathy manifests itself as intrusive thoughts from another mind.
Patty crowds into Stan’s space, stirring Eddie into waking up.
“Rich, hi!”
“Rich?”
Eddie gets up and walks to his Captain, taking his hand for a moment in greeting.
“It’s nice to see you!”
“Are you alright?”
“I think so. I don’t feel quite myself, but I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing. I’ve been reading, you can read a whole book minutes here.”
Eddie is behaving in a way Richie has never seen before, relaxed, smiling even. They keep talking while under the shade of the tree Eddie had been napping beneath and the Uris family is reunited. Patty pushes her husband’s hair back to feel his emotions and look him in the eyes.
“This longer hair looks nice on you, babylove.”
Stan catches her hand and brings it to his mouth for a kiss, making Patty’s cheeks blush a light green color.
“Oh my darling, how tired you have been.”
“I have been tired, I never even realized how tired.”
Patty strokes his hair once more with her free hand, then shifts to lower his head into her lap.
“My taluhk,” she turns his hand in hers to see new white scars where his hands had been badly damaged in the crash.
“Patty,” it is uncommon for Vulcans to cry, but her tears have fallen down onto Stan’s own cheek. He feels like they are his tears.
“Taluhk, beloved. What is it?”
“You Stanley. I am so happy to have found you.”
Richie feels awkward seeing this private moment between lovers. More embarrassingly he feels envious. He looks to Eddie who has wandered over to the water's edge, he follows him.
“Patty,” Stan turns her hand in his, “This connection goes both ways you know. I can feel that you are sad.”
“It is complex, but I did not lie to you. I am happy, this machine, this world has saved you. I am scared that perhaps you will not wish to leave it with me.”
“Pats-” she covers his mouth with a single finger, a gentle kiss of the mind.
“Wait, taluhk. If you do not wish to leave then I will stay here with you. That is the full truth. I am sad because I have never seen you so happy as you are here. For you all to leave you must be able to want to. They said often people who come here find something they were missing from their lives.”
“You can feel how happy I am, but what you don’t realize is that it is because you have arrived. You can ask Eddie, but I’ve simply been passing the time.”
Stan holds up two fingers, ozh’esta a Vulcan embrace. Patty touches her fingers to his.
“You can feel I’m telling the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Some of the locals call this place paradise.”
“If you’d like to we can stay-”
“I mean that is what they call it. When we are together, that is what I call paradise.”
Patty’s tears have not stopped, but when she leans down to kiss her husband she is smiling. Then just as they arrived, they were gone in an instant.
“Stan! Patty!”
“Richie what happened? Where are they?”
Richie is totally speechless. He tries to think of how to explain what he just saw, when he finally opens his mouth what comes out is.
“They’re together.”
Hours pass in the machine, just the two of them now. Eddie’s green blood begins to return slowly, evident by the way his cheeks blush whenever they get close enough to touch. It’s usually a mistake, but Richie gets the impression Eddie is crowding into his space.
Eddie still isn’t quite himself and he convinces Richie to go to a music show the Ronagare would be putting on at sunset. His body needs more time to heal, and despite the strangeness of this world Richie is enjoying himself.
“Remind me to move the next shoreleave sooner on the calendar.”
“I’m sure many of the crew will appreciate it.”
“I didn’t realize how exhausted we’ve all been. Sometimes it takes outside forces to give you some perspective,” he expects Eddie to say something, but he simply sinks further back into his chair.
At one point in the show their arms brush. Richie thinks nothing of it, with how much Eddie had been intentionally touching him since he arrived. This time however Eddie jerks his arm back like it was burned. Then stands and runs out of the theater. Richie is shocked, unable to follow at first, then he bolts after him.
“Eddie!”
“Sorry, go back, I’ve embarrassed myself enough today.”
Richie is confused, and has no intention of going back to the show without Eddie.
"When your ship crashed, I didn’t have time to think about it. I wouldn’t let myself at first because I knew I wouldn’t be able to do my job. The second I was alone I burst into tears. I thought I was going to be fine and then I thought well… You're my best friend, Eddie. Have I ever told you that?"
"No captain. You've never told me that, but I knew. I can feel it.”
Richie steps forward, closer to Eddie. He reaches out a hand and rests it on Eddie’s arm where he had brushed him in the theater. Eddie doesn't pull away this time.
“When you touch my arm or my shoulder, but especially when you touch my hand. I can feel your emotions. All Vulcans have this ability, even me with a human father."
Richie is embarrassed, he should have realized. All this time and he’s been…
"Oh fuck! I'm sorry! That's... unprofessional to say the least,” he’s trying to pull his hand away, but Eddie grabs it.
The Vulcan is much stronger than Richie, who isn’t fighting hard. Eddie's lips twitch into a small smile.
“It’s nice. There’s joy in knowing that every time you are near someone they are feeling the same way as you.”
“The same,” Richie thinks he understands, but he can’t believe it.
Eddie’s eyes close and he leans forward. Richie’s hands are sweating, and he cannot stop smiling as he leans forward to kiss his best friend. The world disappears around them, paradise found at last.