"They should have manuals for this"

[Jamie Kroells 0]

“They should have manuals for this”

 

Jamie tilted his head. She looked rather well for a woman that was three hundred forty years old. He was sitting on the bio bed next to hers, just simply watching. There was no need for scans, seeing as how medical had everything covered. He supposed there was no purpose for him here; then again there wasn’t much purpose for him down in the cargo bay. There were enough people down there as is. Scores of marines and security incase the pod suddenly did something…bad…as unlikely as that was. Besides he always had Shadow the tricorder and Odile, who to the chagrin of him even thinking it was a competent scientist. So he decided to take a more simple approach to this. Besides, he wanted to be here when she woke up. Not only for the scientific possibilities, but for her to have a familiar face.

 

2057…what a pitiful year. Large portions of Earth were still nuclear wastelands in the aftermath of World War III. He had to wonder if that’s why she left, her and her ship. Escaping a war torn Earth for greener pastures. Well that sure turned out great. He regarded the plethora of padds next to him on the bed. In short terms it was the 21st century in a nut shell. It was a rather dull century, with the only shining light being Cochrane’s warp flight, first contact with the Vulcans, human enlightenment…all that jazz. At least there was a song by a band called Limp Bizkit that had the “F” word in it forty-some times. He listened to that…a couple times.

 

His mind began to drift over everything he’d learned over his past hour of reading. Donald Trump wanting to date his daughter, inconvenient truths, and some man named K-Fed. He sighed and hoped most of those Six Hundred Million dead were mouth breathers. Inevitably he was brought back to the mystery woman and the mystery…around her…uh mystery.

 

The truth and whole truth behind her space bound exploration was still out. People were frantically digging through archives as Jamie thought. It was another job he could have helped out at. In fact, they seemed somewhat peeved when he walked in, grabbed a bunch of random information and left. It wasn’t their fault; he needed to learn about this horrid century of tyrant presidents, mad cows, and Anna Nicole Smith. He wondered if that’s why she’d left. No, not because of Anna. The whole nuclear holocaust thing. Good of a reason as any to leave Earth, to strike for greener pastures where people weren’t stupid enough to actually nuke each other.

 

He let out a small sigh. Whatever reason, she’d be awake soon. And probably raving loony about aliens and such. He was here for the science of it all, never to tell anyone that he felt a sad sort of connection. Out of place, out of time. She didn’t know anyone or anything. This place was completely foreign to her, not much unlike how he felt when he woke up. At least he had kept the good knowledge that aliens were real and you could get a nice hot coca by simply asking a hole in the wall. She had it much harder, and he for one was determined to do what he could for her.

 

That should have made a damn manual for this kind of thing. This wasn’t the age of early Starfleet where Vulcan’s knew what was what and time travel was impossible. Hell, he was looking at time travel right now. People had been through forwards, backwards and all around time. Yet no one had the smarts to do something about it. So he picked up a padd and started writing.

 

“Chapter 1: So you’ve been unlucky enough to have the space time continuum play a prank on you...”