“Did you have a specific program in mind?” Saru asks.
“Perhaps, you might show me Kaminar?” T’Rina replies.
“It would bring me great joy to show you my home,” Saru replies, excited. “Uh, Zora. Please run program Saru 1.” 1/5
Simulated grains of sand vibrated into form beneath Saru and T’Rina’s feet. The hush of the tide streaking the beach conspires with the whisper of the trees to pull their anxious minds.
“In here, it is almost possible to forget about the danger the DMA poses,” T’Rina says. 2/5
“I am sorry that your home is in danger,” Saru says. “I know too well the pain of—of not being able to return to one’s home.”
T’Rina nods. “The scent is—intoxicating.”
“Ah yes,” Saru says. “The kelp is almost ready for harvest.” 3/5
“Deceiving one’s senses with simulation is—necessary at times of great distress, especially when one has little recourse to—act in any meaningful way,” T’Rina says.
“It is true. I find this simulation restful,” Saru says. “The feeling of the breeze. The scent of the kelp.” 4/5
“—all simulations promoting real—feelings,” Saru says.
T’Rina presses her palm into his. Their fingers slide gently together.
“Simulation can—heighten our experience of what is real,” T’Rina says.
“Zora, alter time setting to sunset,” says Saru.
They walk on in purple light.
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
“So—I uh—know I should hardly be surprised by people appearing in my quarters,” Pike begins. “Especially when your older self from an alternate future pays you a visit, but—why are you here again?”
Sisko grins.
1/14
Sisko swallows the ice cold water and sets the glass on Pike’s counter. “Well, I’m—not quite sure.”
“You’re not sure,” Pike repeats.
“I—exist outside—uh,” Sisko says, the hilarity of his statement preceding the words. “Time.”
“I’m—sorry,” Pike says.
2/14
Pike grabs the handle of the pan, flicking his wrist and tossing the steak strips, sliced onions and peppers. The harsh buzz of steam fills the kitchen.
“I—got a glimpse of my future once,” Pike says. “It’s not what I ever imagined for myself.”
“That’s an interesting question,” Michael replies.
Janeway notices her stiffening face and the dryness of her voice. “I can tell you that the question itself is an answer, isn’t it?”
A thin grin pulls apart Michael’s lips. “It is—actually.”
1/14
“I suppose I should attempt an answer first,” Janeway says.
Michael nods.
“So, my father—well, first you must imagine this—figure—the figure of immense gravitas and—authority,” Janeway says. “He was nothing less than—the incarnation of Starfleet service.”
2/14
“Ahhh, I know exactly what you mean,” Michael says. “Sarek was always—the immaculate Vulcan—at least that was his goal.”
“Oh, yes, you had the pleasure of being raised by two fathers,” Janeway says. “I’m interested in how they both shaped your command.”
3/14