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[Innogen Belo 0]

The following LT Belo & CPT Calestorm joint log takes place prior to the 01.23.12 Sim...

 

Innogen rapped her fingers against the console as she studied the equation before her. She knew it was a nervous tick, one that probably annoyed other members of the crew, but it was not something she could help. The puzzle that lay before her was particularly fascinating and complex and coming to the incorrect conclusion could mean the end for the entire crew. The answer was starring her in the face, she just needed to acknowledge it.

 

The safety of the crew was her first and foremost concern, yet this did not stop her from contemplating the magnitude of where she was, or how she had gotten there. An argument had formed in that back of her mind, one that was slowly building momentum, attempting to push itself to the forefront and be given prompt attention. Her fingers abruptly stopped, as she focused on this idea, considered it, considered the ramifications.

 

She did not mind being alone, isolated from everyone she knew, for she had lived most of her life that way. Her family was a non-issue; she had yet to establish anything more than casual friendships with the crew of the Comanche Creek. No, the fact remained that those she truly considered her family, her friends were dead, and they had died, like so many others, at Vulcan. Her own life had been spared by a lucky coincidence, being in the decon lab one of the few, self-contained areas aboard the ship, when the Tesla encountered the Narada.

 

It was truly ironic that she was now facing another deadly situation that was very much related. No, she could bear the solitude and the things she would receive in exchange would more than compensate for leaving behind all that she had ever known. It was time, she decided; time to follow the road not taken. The time to act was now. Her window of opportunity was small and if she meant to use it, it must be at once.

 

Sighing, Innogen pushed away from her station on the bridge and stood. She needed to speak with Captain Calestorm immediately.

 

= = =

Calestorm had retired to her Ready Room, nose buried in a data slate. The reading material consisted of theories and cold hard facts. Would they get back? Would the engines and computer systems be up to the task? Would the time Rift tear them apart, scattering their atoms?

 

She took a grateful sip of hot tea from a mug - she was trying to cut back on the coffee - that some godsend of a yeoman had brought.

 

The door chimed, signaling the presence of someone outside, waiting to come in.

 

“Come on in.”

 

= = =

The conversation had definitely not gone down the way Cale had imagined. She’d been expecting more head ‘sploding theories, numbers, and time travel techno-babble that would make her head spin. She had not expected this sort of request from her Chief of Science.

 

“Wait, what? You want to....stay here Lieutenant? I don’t understand. Your home is back in our time. This,” the Captain waved a hand towards the observation window, taking in space, “is not your home.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Belo began to explain herself, sounding confident of her decision. “Captain, to be perfectly honest, I don’t truly have a home, or a place I wish to call home. Opportunities like this are so rare and I would be a fool to not take this one.”

 

Crash slowly unfolded her lanky frame from the chair and walked over to stand at the little observation port. Their ‘watchdog’ vessel, the USS Missouri, remained in a holding pattern, shadowing them. The design of the future ship vaguely reminded Cale of the old NX-class starships...and Captain d’Ka was there to make sure the ‘2259ers’ didn’t stay. Can’t be having an antique Kelvin-class Destroyer floating around now can we? That’d be embarrassing...

 

Embarrassing for whom? The crew of the Comanche Creek or this modern-era Starfleet Command? She dismissed these darker thoughts, turning her focus back to her CSCI.

 

“Belo, it ever occur to you that we’re not supposed to be here? We left 2259 and wound up smack dab in 2387. And I’m not talking about the usual concerns: one hundred twenty six years of catch up learning, to name one.”

 

The science officer sighed, not ready to concede the battle. “I have no illusions regarding how much of a fish out of water I would be at first, but there is so much that I could learn from the scientists of this time. I would be doing the very thing I joined Starfleet to do. Despite what quantum physicists would have us believe, the effect on our timeline, would be little, if any. I have considered all the ramifications and wish to remain here.”

 

She turned to face Innogen, trying the reasonable tact. “I don’t have science training, but...we’re not supposed to be here Lieutenant. We might be able to work through this mentally, but physically it’s another matter. Hell of a case of jet lag; your body doesn’t adjust as well as your mind. We just don’t belong this far in the future.”

 

“How is anyone to make the determination of where they truly belong? If we were not meant to be here, how is it that we are here now? Everyone speaks of paradoxes and distorting timelines, yet we know time travel is possible and have yet to cause any lasting damage,” Innogen exhaled roughly, shifting in place. “I don’t belong here Captain, I never have. I don’t fit it and Starfleet has now made my position somewhat untenable. I need to move on and this is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

 

Crash’s face creased into a gentle frown, her few age lines showing.

 

“I do not wish to discuss personal matters; they should have no bearing on my duties as an officer or my request to stay. However, my status as a Federation citizen will soon be called into question due to diplomatic negotiations between the Federation and the Kriosians. Should the Kriosian government request it, the Federation may wish to offer me up to them on a silver platter, to cement diplomatic ties. Given the circumstances, staying here is my best option at this time.”

 

Calestorm moved to lean against the desk, bracing herself as she faced Belo. She leaned forward and really talked to the science officer. “I don’t claim to be an expert on family situations, and it sure sounds like you have some issues floatin’ in yours. I can understand how...staying here and losing yourself in a completely different era holds appeal...”

 

Innogen opened her mouth, wishing to interject, but shut it again, waiting to hear what the Captain had to say.

 

“But, I can’t leave you here. I’m sorry, that’s all there is to it. And we’ll deal with the question of citizenship after we get back, ‘kay?” Crash squinted one eye. “And I hope you aren’t thinking of taking off in one of my shuttles. If you get the bright idea to jump ship, I’m gonna have to go chasin’ you and I’m sure that would tick off our future comrades...don’t make me confine you to quarters Innogen.”

 

Frowning, the science officer paused for a moment before dropping her iComanche onto the Captain’s desk, letting it clatter against the surface.

 

“That is the information you will need to insure our return to 2259. If you have no further need of me, I will be in my quarters,” her tone was clipped and measured, her words precise. Turning on her heel, she strode out of the ready room.

 

Calestorm called after her. “Lieutenant, you are not dismissed.” The words were spoken plainly, but with an undertone of warning.

 

She waited until Belo was back in her line of sight before speaking again, and tossed the iComanche in a gentle arc towards the SCI officer. “You forgot that. You will be on the bridge when we re-enter the Rift. I need your expertise, and quite frankly, we’ll need all the luck we can get so I want my top people on deck. I trust you Innogen.”

 

Frowning, Innogen looked down at the iComanche she had caught as a reflex. “I will do my best to live up to that trust, but I don’t agree with your decision. Hopefully, you do not come to regret it.”

 

“So say we all, Innogen. Dismissed...”