Kathryn yawns, sets her book down, stretches, and looks out into space.
“What are you reading?” a voice asks from behind.
Kathryn turns abruptly. “Who are you, and what are you doing on my ship?”
The man lifts the book, examining its cover.
1/25
“The Odyssey,” the man says, a smile tugging at his lips.
Kathryn eyes him intensely.
“You think you are Odysseus?” the man asks. “Separated from home—wandering alone, but—clever—surviving by your wits.”
Kathryn taps her combadge. It is silent.
“I am Jesus of Nazareth.”
2/25
“There is nothing to fear, Kathryn,” Jesus says.
Kathryn’s brow arcs. “An unusual form to take, I believe.”
“Unusual—form?” Jesus asks. Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Ah, you believe me to be a being of some power merely taking on this form from an ancient religion.”
3/25
Kathryn nods. “The Q. Species 8472. Telepathic Pitcher Plants. Hungry aliens posing as my father. There’s a number of rational explanations for—you. No offense.”
“That is what I truly love about you, Kathryn,” Jesus says. “You have a rigorous mind: always hypothesizing.”
4/25
“Okay,” Kathryn says, sitting on her couch. “I’ll entertain your—identity—for a moment.”
Jesus nods, sitting in her chair, the book now on his lap.
“My question remains: why are you on my ship?” Kathryn asks.
“Because for a moment, you called for me,” Jesus says.
5/25
“I—don’t think so,” Kathryn says. “Don’t get me wrong; far back in my family line, there are many proud Catholics, but I—am not a believer.”
“Faith in that which cannot be measured, scanned, and reasoned—challenges you,” Jesus says.
6/25
“But as you stood there, peering out into the universe, a part of you wondered if there was enough good out there to allow your crew to get home—within their lives,” Jesus says.
Kathryn looks out the window.
7/25
“It was a mere fraction of a second—an electro-chemical burst across synapse—but it was enough for me to come—to you—this evening,” Jesus says.
Kathryn looks back at him. “Okay. You’re here. What—can I do for you?”
“Tell me about—your odyssey,” Jesus says.
8/25
“If you’re an incarnation of the supreme being, don’t you know?” Kathryn asks, teasingly.
“Indeed,” Jesus says. “But you must—form the facts of your reality with words—to another—for clarity to transform facts into—wisdom.”
Kathryn’s brow arcs again.
9/25
“Alright,” Kathryn says, pulling her legs beneath her on the couch. She stretched an arm along the back of the couch. She seems to fixate on a point in the air for a moment. “For my first mission in command, I was sent to retrieve my tactical officer from the Maquis.”
10/25
“Your dearest friend,” Jesus adds.
Kathryn nods. “Instead, myself and my crew were ripped away from—our lives, really—and dropped out here in the Delta Quadrant. Alone. Without support. Sometimes—without—hope.”
“A wilderness,” Jesus says.
11/25
“Is that your way of hinting that it’ll take us 40 years to get back home?” Kathryn jokes.
Jesus laughs. “Would you play the part of Moses in this scenario?”
“Oh, god, no!” Kathryn exclaims before regaining her composure. “My apologies.”
“You are forgiven,” Jesus says.
12/25
Kathryn eyes Jesus with suspicion again.
“I AM here, Kathryn,” Jesus says.
Janeway rolls her eyes.
“Please,” Jesus says. “Do not allow your doubt to cut your story short. Continue.”
“Well, I—had a decision to make,” Kathryn says.
13/25
“Safeguard the future of the Ocampa or get my crew home,” Kathryn says.
“And you chose self-sacrifice,” Jesus says. “I have always been proud of you for such an act, Kathryn.”
Kathryn’s brows raise then quickly flatten. “Yes, well, I don’t—carry pride for that decision.”
14/25
“Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have been able to make a different choice,” Kathryn says. “But I often wish—that I had more—information at the time.”
“What do you mean?” Jesus asks.
15/25
“If I knew for certain that we could use the array to get home AND destroy it with some delayed torpedoes,” Kathryn says. “Or if I knew the Ocampa would’ve been just fine—that the Kazon wouldn’t have been able to make use of the array—”
16/25
“That is a lot of speculation,” Jesus says.
“That’s all I have, sir,” Kathryn retorts.
“I sense—resentment, frustration,” Jesus says.
“Yes, I suppose you do,” Kathryn says. “How lovely it would’ve been to have access to the kind of—information you have access to.”
17/25
Jesus smiles and nods. “The presence of Yahweh is entered into with fear and trembling. Such knowledge is not widely shared directly—out of love.”
“Fear—and trembling?” Kathryn asks. “You see this is the reason I don’t—dabble in the O’Donnell family faith.”
18/25
“I see,” Jesus says. “You see fear as a negative experience, but one must fear the great, muscular strength of an ocean wave or the gaping mouth of the Earth’s Grand Canyon.”
Jesus lifts the book. “One looks upon this great work with awe—trembling before it’s craft.”
19/25
“Or at a powerful gravity well,” Jesus says.
“A black hole,” Kathryn adds.
“Yes,” Jesus says. “The accretion disc is a sight to behold, is it not?”
Kathryn nods.
“Beauty and overwhelming power existing equally in a single object,” Jesus says.
20/25
“And what could inspire more beauty and immense power—which must be at once adored and feared—than the Creator of all things?” Jesus asks.
“So, it’s not that this god is demanding to be feared by us mere mortals,” Kathryn says.
21/25
“It’s that fear is the natural, healthy response to this—being,” Kathryn says.
“Precisely,” Jesus says. “And it rightly positions us in humility as we learn to rely on the one who made us and knows us and all things in reality—better than we could ever know.”
22/25
“But why frame that with—fear?” Kathryn asks.
“Whom shall we fear in this life if the Creator calls us son—” Jesus says. “Or daughter. The fear of the Lord is freedom from all other fear. To know him—is to know peace—to be always at home.”
23/25
“Faith—in the all-knowing One,” Kathryn whispers. “Is to know all that is needed.”
Jesus grins. “I believe this is not a new understanding, but a memory.”
“Kes,” Kathryn says, nodding. “I had—an experience many years ago to save a member of my crew.”
24/25
“Playing the part of the savior again,” Jesus says.
Kathryn smiles, embarrassed.
“For my crew, I’ll play any part.”
“For my children, I became one of them,” Jesus says. “I suffered. I existed apart from—my very self.”
He rests his hands on her arms. “I understand, Kathryn.”
• • •
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“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