I Have Seen the Future

This is a seaQuest DSV/Star Trek: The Next Generation crossover fan fic written in 1996.

The 21st Century, mankind has colonized the last unexplored region on Earth, the ocean.  As Captain of the seaQuest and its crew, we are its guardians.  For beneath the surface, lies the future. -- Captain Nathan Bridger

When I was growing up I always felt like a traitor as a kid in church, because I secretly hoped that we weren't alone. -- Lt. Tim O'Neill, "Such Great Patience"

According to this theory the past can't exist without the future. -- Lucas Wolenczak, "Playtime"

Because if we try to change history – like the hand of providence reaching down from the heavens – it could lead anywhere. -- Captain Oliver Hudson, "Second Chance"

Historian's Note: I Have Seen the Future takes place during the first season of seaQuest DSV, beginning immediately after the episode, "The Last Lap at Luxury."


Somewhere in the eerie darkness of the sub-conscious, Lucas Wolenczak slept, dreaming the dreams of an average seventeen year old.  Far beyond the cramped silence of his quarters in mammal engineering, or the mass of technology that was the seaQuest, he drifted slowly in the vast expanse.

It wasn't much, mammal engineering, but Lucas was proud to call it home.  A reflection of his own personal taste – avant-garde a la Wolenczak, as we was fond of calling it.  There was a little bit of this, and little bit of that.  Most of the items bordered on the realm of good taste, but were meaningful just the same.

The floor was covered with a mixture of clean and dirty clothes, Lucas couldn't tell the difference anymore.  Computers took up most of the space but it was the personal items that made a bold statement.

A baseball signed by the 2010 World Series Champions Florida Marlins lay on a shelf of knick-knacks.  The Marlins hat was next.  Lucas called it his thinking cap since he wore it, usually backwards, when contemplating a tough problem.  Both the ball and hat had been gifts from the "invisible Dad" and were treasured with some strange form of reverence despite the empty sentiment behind them.  They represented his absentee father who hadn't been seen since his mother's funeral a few months ago.

Computer disks were piled high on a desk along with what appeared to be, although unrecognizable, a half-eaten bologna sandwich.  The drawers beneath his bunk were so full that they might spring open at any moment.

A mess?  Most definitely.  But Lucas knew every inch of his mess.  And it was all part of being a teenager.  At least that's what Captain Nathan Bridger said whenever ship's business brought him down this far.

The dolphin tube was set just a few inches above Lucas's bunk and it suddenly illuminated as the ship's automated lighting system welcomed a new day.  Darwin, perhaps doing his equivalent of morning aerobics, slowly swam into view.  That was another reason Lucas loved his quarters; Darwin was always close by.

Seeking a little attention, the playful dolphin gently tapped on the glass.  Lucas was sleeping a little too soundly.  Darwin gave up on his wake-up call and quietly swam away.

A loud crash permeated the silence.  Lucas sat straight up, greatly startled, his heart beating fast.  "Darn you, T-Bone," he said.  "Can't you cook a little quieter?"

Thomas Bono – whose nickname "T-Bone" came about when UEO Appropriations goofed up the name on his uniform – was seaQuest's master chef.  He could do wonders with processed military food.  Lucas lived next door to the ship's mess and was awakened quite frequently by the banging of pots and pans.

Lucas ran his hands through the blond mop on top of his head.  He slowly stood while rubbing his eyes.  The Marlins boxer shorts and extra-large UEO t-shirt hung loose on his bony frame.  He searched for a clean pair of jeans but had to settle for a "mostly-wrinkled-state-of-cleanliness-unknown" pair instead.  He pulled then on and glanced at his watch.

"Great," he said.  "Just what I need."

He'd overslept an hour, missing the Captain's senior staff meeting.  Although he wasn't an official member of the crew, Bridger often let him sit in on a staff meeting or two for the sake of experience.  Lucas usually had some interesting things to say, the Captain realized, and his computer knowledge was unsurpassed.  Attending the staff meeting, however, was the only catch to being invited to one.  And this wouldn't be the first time Lucas hadn't shown.

"I hope he's in a good mood," he said, jerking on his tennis shoes.

With that, he left mammal engineering en route to the bridge, stopping by the ship's mess for a bagel, and forgetting the most important aspect of this particular day.

Lt. Commander Data had never been late.  But after the recent incident at Triis IV, nobody could fault him for running a little behind schedule.  A routine shuttle flight to the surface had nearly seen the end of Starfleet's one and only.

He had been piloting the shuttlecraft Nautilus when a sudden warp core breach had forced him to beam out.  Geordi had barely been able to get a lock on Data before the shuttlecraft was destroyed.

A near-death experience such as this would find most in a deep state of emotional confusion.  Of course to Data everything was status quo – having no emotions meant no excess baggage.  Life could go on as normal.  And that was exactly the way things were aboard the Enterprise this morning – at least for the moment.  They were proceeding to the Logares V sector where the USS Intrepid was in need of repairs.

Data stepped out of the turbolift and onto the bridge as he had done over a thousand times before – 1,436 to be exact!  The familiar shush of the turbolift door broke the silence as it closed behind the starships third in command.

The android noted the hum of the warp engines as he walked down the ramp to the command module.  Lt. Mickle, currently in command, stood and gave Data a friendly nod.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Data spoke softly.  "I trust all is well."

"Yes, sir.  Nothing out of the ordinary to report.  We're ahead of schedule and will rendezvous with the Intrepid in three hours."

"Thank you."  Data turned toward the view screen.  He noted that Ensign McKnight sat in his position at Ops, and Ensign Laredo was at Conn.

"Begging your pardon, Commander," Lt. Mickle began, "but I thought the Captain ordered you off bridge duty.  I figured you'd be in your quarters resting, or on the holodeck solving another one of your mysteries."

Data nodded at Mickle.  "You are correct.  I am currently under orders to remain off-duty for the next seventy-two hours.  But Captain Picard asked if I would join him this morning for a special staff meeting.  I am, in fact, late for that meeting."

"Please forgive me, sir.  I didn't know they were expecting you."

"Do not apologize.  I appreciate your concern.  Please excuse me."

"And I'll tell ya 'nother thing."

Dylan McShayne was drunk.  And the patrons of the Fourth Street Tavern had long since passed the point of being annoyed.

"Filthy, stinkin' Underground.  Buncha stupid humanoids runnin' 'round like they own the place.  Who died an left them in charge?"

The Underground was a group of humanoid soldiers created to wage war on society.  The planet Earth of the twenty-second century was not a pleasant place.  Organized government was a thing of the past.  The Underground patrolled the cities and handed out punishment whenever and however it deemed necessary.  In keeping with that philosophy of justice, they mistakenly took Jade, Dylan's fiancée, for a common thief when she was caught in the middle of a food bank during an attempted robbery.  She was taken away and destroyed.  No trial, no time in prison, just immediate execution.

"Killed my girl, they did.  Killed her for buyin' a loaf of bread."

It was the way of life in the twenty-second century.  No one complained because there was no one to complain to.  Learning at an alarming rate, the androids had taken over, leaving the government behind.  Human rights no longer existed.  The fate of the living relied on the technology that was slowly snuffing them out.

A young couple, seated at the front of the tavern, got up from their seats and quietly walked out the door.  Others traded concerned glances, knowing that this kind of talk would lead to trouble.  It wasn't hard for Nick, the bartender, to realize that he had to get rid of this guy…and fast.

"Okay, buddy," Nick said.  "I think you've had enough."

If Dylan heard the warning, he didn't acknowledge it.  "What's wrong with…?"

Nick had rounded the bar, grabbing Dylan by the neck.  "I said it's time to go home.  You've had enough.'

"Let him go," a voice said.  "I'll take him home."

Nick looked up to see a tall, dark-haired stranger approaching.  He couldn't be sure, but Nick didn't remember seeing this guy walk in.  But with all the commotion, a herd of elephants could have trampled through and Nick would have been clueless.  And what did it matter?  The guy wanted to help.  Why not let him?  "Thanks, pal.  I owe you one."

The stranger helped Dylan off the barstool, guided him toward the door, and opened it for him.  Eighteen pairs of eyes followed them as they made their exit, almost daring them to come back in.  Then, as the door closed behind them, eighteen consecutive sighs were breathed in relief.

Out on the street, Dylan was making a spectacle of himself.  He didn't want to go anywhere.  "Just who do you think you are, fella?"

"I'll never understand you humans – so weak and frail.  You come apart when the slightest thing doesn't go your way."  Dylan tried to pull away.  "I, Mr. McShayne, am Q.  Just think of me as an observer."

Dylan finally managed to stand up on his own.  "How'd you…know my name?"

Q smiled.  "I know much more than that, human.  I know everything about you, when you were born, when you will die, and all the boring details in between.  The fact of the matter is, Dylan, I'm here to help you.  That is, if you wish to be helped."

Dylan struggled to think straight.  Maybe he had had too much to drink.  "Help me with what?"

"Oh, come now, you foolish mortal, don't insult me.  I know of the untimely death of your fiancée.  I'm talking about your silly little plan of revenge.  How arrogant you are to think you could accomplish so difficult by your own power."

"Just who are you, Mr. Q?" Dylan asked, a little spooked.

"Who I am, Mr. McShayne, is not as important as what I can do for you.  Without me you'll never find young Wolenczak."

After spending five years and every penny had to seek revenge against the Underground, Dylan finally gave up.  The roots of the Underground could be directly traced back to a young boy named Lucas Wolenczak.

His credentials were certainly there, graduating magna cum laude from Stanford University, Applied Science of Artificial Intelligence, at age sixteen.  At the same age, he'd busted the link between interspecies communication by creating a program that allowed dolphins and humans to understand each other.

By thirty-five, he'd designed a totally self-operating attack sub for the United Earth/Oceans Organization, based on a computer that "thought" for itself.  At age forty, a chip that could teach itself became his claim to fame, the true beginning of artificial intelligence as the world knew it.  Wolenczak strived to reach further for the rest of his life.  He never made it, dying of old age at seventy-five.  But his work carried on by others, leading to the creation of the Underground some thirty years later.

Dylan seemed to be sobering up awful fast.  "Look, pal.  I don't know who you are, but I don't find this funny at all.  How dare you rub Jade's death in my face like this!"

Q laughed.  "Don't be so sensitive, you simple-minded human.  As I said before, I'm here to help.  But that offer will soon be taken off the table if you don't change your attitude."

"Do you honestly expect me to swallow this?" Dylan asked.  "Wolenczak died of old age thirty-five years ago.  What do you plan to do, go back in time?"

"Precisely," Q replied.

"Ha!" Dylan laughed.  "Lots of luck, pal!"  He turned and began walking down the street.  As he was about to turn the corner, Q suddenly appeared in front of him.  Speechless, he turned around and began walking the other way.  Again, Q appeared in front of him.

"Your lack of faith has grown quite boring, Mr. McShayne.  Don't you see that I can do much more than appear and disappear at will?  Haven't you noticed that you are now completely sober?  Perhaps a more violent demonstration of my power is in order."

Dylan was frozen in place, not able to say anything.

"Now," Q began, "do I have your attention, Mr. McShayne?"

Dylan nodded.

"Good.  Now if I'm not mistaken, and I'm not, Lucas Wolenczak served on board a submarine know as seaQuest in his late teens.  This seems to be a good time for us to pay him a visit.  I'm sure you'd like to see to it that he never reaches his eighteenth birthday.  Shall we go?"

With that, Q snapped his fingers.  A bright light flashed and the street corner instantly faded into a large corridor of gunmetal gray.  The air felt damp.  In front of them was a staircase with a sign above it indication a place called "B-Deck."  Rubber lined the floor underneath their feet.  Pipes of various sizes and colors ran the length of the ceiling.

Amazed, Dylan looked all around him.  If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was on a submarine.  "Where are we?"

"The vessel known as seaQuest.  Your young friend lives here."

"And where is Wolenczak?"

Patience, my dear Mr. McShayne, we have another place to visit.  It's all part of my plan.  You must trust me."

Q snapped his fingers again.  Dylan found himself in a large, rectangular room with a yellow grid lining the walls, floors, and ceiling.  A flesh-colored door introduced itself as the only entrance or exit.

"Where are we now?"

"Aboard a twenty-fourth century starship, the Enterprise.  It belongs to some friends of mine."

"Why are we here?  What does this have to do with Wolenczak?"

"You'll see, Dylan," Q replied.  "All will be explained in due time.  But first I have some work to do.  I need to give both crews something to keep them busy for awhile."

It's been one of those days, Lucas thought as he stepped out of the Mag-Lev at Seadeck 4.

Of course, the day was only a few hours old.  But to Lucas, it seemed like an eternity.  He'd woken up late, which had been bad enough.  Most people, Lucas included, could handle one catastrophe in the morning.  You almost expected something to go wrong.

Two "something's" was a little harder to deal with.  That meant you were going to have a bad day.  But most people could handle that, too.  A third "something" hitting within your first waking fifteen minutes – as was the case this morning – signified that it was your day to hide from the world because four, five, and six couldn't be far behind.  Lucas was already wishing he hadn't gotten out of bed.

There had been no bagel this morning.  To Lucas, who had a bagel every morning, this was not good.  He had to settle for an English muffin instead.  And he hated English muffins.

Finally, he'd made it all the way to the bridge, only to be stopped by Lieutenant Johnson, who'd relayed the message from Captain Bridger.  "Tell Lucas to meet me on the Seadeck immediately.

So much for him being in a good mood!

"This day can't get much worse," Lucas said as he approached the Seadeck door.  He was trying to make the best of it.  A lecture from Captain Bridger might actually prove interesting.  Could he really yell louder than the last time?

Lucas stood outside the closed door for a moment, almost too frightened to open it.  The ship isn't that big, he thought.  I'll have to face him some time.

He turned the knob and slowly pushed forward.  A gentle shush sounded that signified the airtight seal had been broken.  Lucas couldn't have been any less prepared for what awaited him on the other side.

On Seadeck 4, Captain Bridger, Commander Ford, Lt. Commander Hitchcock, and twenty or thirty other stood by the moonpool with big smiles on their faces.  Behind them, hanging above the pool, was a large sign that loudly proclaimed, "Happy Birthday, Lucas!"

Before Lucas could say a word – or step on the Seadeck for that matter – everyone screamed, "Surprise!  Happy Birthday!"

Lt. O'Neill then lead everyone in singing the birthday song while Chief Crocker and Ensign Matthew Davis wheeled out a cake illuminated by seventeen lighted candles.

Lucas stepped into the room with a look of shock on his face.  After a few moments, he said, "This is great.  I didn't think anyone know about this.  I'd almost forgotten myself."  A thought struck him.  He'd told his best friend, Ensign Davis, about his birthday several weeks ago.  He approached the young ensign smiled.  "Something tells me you're behind this, Matt."

Matt shook his head.  "Not this time, Wolenczak," he said, advertising his southern heritage with his accent.  "Besides, I know when to keep my mouth shut."

Lt. Ben Krieg put his hand on Matt's shoulder.  "Yeah, Lucas.  You know what they say about loose lips!"

"Right," Lucas said.  "But how did you know?"

"Your father told me," Bridger responded.  "He called last week."

The mention of his father caused Lucas to cringe.  Whoever said that "times heals all wounds" had obviously never met George Wolenczak.

"Did he have anything else to say?" Lucas asked.

"Only that he couldn't be here, something about important research.  But he wanted to give you this."  Bridger held out a small box wrapped in fancy paper.

Lucas accepted the package with an uncomfortable smile.  "Thanks," he finally said.  "I'll open it later."

Being ignored by his father, especially on his birthday, had become normal for Lucas.  But it didn't take away the pain he felt.  All those in the room understood the situation, and an unsaid flow of compassion poured out over the room.

Lt. Krieg broke the silence.  "This is a party, everyone.  Come on, Lucas.  Make a wish and blow out the candles."

Lucas didn't hesitate, relieving the candles of their duty while everyone cheered.  They all knew what Lucas had wished for.

"Here, Lucas," Bridger said, handing him another gift.  "This one is from me."  Dr. Kristin Westphalen stood next to him with a motherly grin on her face.

Like a kid at Christmas, Lucas tore the paper off the present.  It was a beautiful, leather-bound Bible.  Lucas smiled.

"I gave that to my son, Robert," Bridger explained, "the day he shipped out to sea.  My father gave it to me."

Touched beyond words, Lucas held the book out to the Captain.  "I can't accept this."

Bridger shook his head.  "I want you to have it, Lucas.  Robert has been dead for a while now.  I wondered during that time what I was going to do with it.  And, now, I can't think of anyone I'd rather give it to.  Happy Birthday."

They embraced awkwardly as a few of the female officers wiped tears from their eyes.

"Y'all are breakin' my heart," said Matt.

Lucas and Bridger looked slightly embarrassed at getting caught in their "father-son" moment.

"Just don't think I didn't notice you weren't at our meeting this morning, Mr. Wolenczak," Bridger said to lighten the mood.  "Miss another one and you'll not only need that Bible, but a priest as well."

Laughter filled the room as Lucas smiled.  He pulled his hand up in mock salute and offered a hearty "yes, sir!"

Krieg held out a package.  "Here, Lucas.  The rest of us chipped in together."

Lucas suspiciously took the box and held it up to his ear, shaking it lightly.  "It's not going to explode, is it?"

"No, it's perfectly harmless," Krieg replied.

"Like the mud wrestler's you gave me for Christmas?"

"No," Krieg replied.  "These mud wrestlers are fully clothed."

Gentle laughter erupted from the crowd as Lucas slowly and cautiously unwrapped the present.  His face lit up as he discovered what was inside.  "Where on earth did you find this, Ben?"

Lucas held it up for everyone to see.  It was an original Marlins baseball jersey from 1993, a very rare and expensive gift.  Considering Ben's shady connections, he wasn't sure he wanted to know where Krieg had found it.

"Let's just say Murray Goldwater owed me a huge favor.  There's not many of these left, you know?"

"Yeah, I know.  Thanks, everyone."  Lucas reached out to shake Krieg's hand.  "I've got to hand it to you, Ben.  You really surprised me this time."

Krieg smiled.  "No, no, no, Lucas.  The surprise comes later, in your cabin."  He walked away.

"Wait, Ben!"  Lucas started after him but was stopped by Dr. Westphalen and Hitchcock.  They each embraced him warmly.  He felt his blood pressure rise slightly as the chief engineer hugged him.

Get a grip, Lucas!

"Happy Birthday, Lucas," Hitchcock said with a big, beautiful smile.

"Thank you," he managed to respond, while thinking about how he might have to jump into the moonpool to cool himself off.

The fun continued for another half-hour as everyone devoured the delicious birthday cake and offered congratulations to the guest of honor.

Captain Bridger was glad to see his crew having so much fun.   They all deserved such a distraction after their last mission.

A misunderstanding between two confederations had nearly caused a full-scale war.  Border disputes and senseless confrontations were the norm nowadays as radical groups tried to put an end to the UEO and the "new peace."  It seemed that people had found more to fight about now than they ever had before.  The UEO had not managed to do away with war, only create new reasons to fight.

Before the confederations were formed, only mining outposts and work facilities were found on the ocean floor.  Now entire cities existed.  People raised their children and lived their lives under the sea.  And they lived with the constant threat of war due to territorial disputes and pirate subs.

And I'm right here in the middle of it all, Bridger thought to himself.  Why didn't I stay on that damned island of mine?

As his mind wandered, so did his eyes – they fixed on a wet Lucas climbing out of the moonpool.  Ford and Chief Shan had managed to catch him off guard and throw him in.  Bridger chuckled to himself.

Lucas reminded him so much of his own son.  They had already been through so much in the short time they'd known each other.  Bridger felt the same pain.  His father had also been too busy to care.  It's a hurt you never can get over, not having a dad.  And having your parents get a divorce didn't help either.

The kid needs a father, Bridger thought.  And if George Wolenczak doesn't want the job, then I'll take it.

The communication signal sounded.  "Senior officers to the bridge, please."

Bridger activated his PAL.  "Is everything okay, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir.  We'll rendezvous with the Intrepid in a few minutes.  You asked me to notify you."

The Intrepid had fallen prey to a vicious attack by a pirate sub, which they'd managed to destroy during the skirmish.  But unfortunately they had also lost all systems as a result.  Propulsion was gone, and the computer had crashed.  Communication had also been effected.  O'Neill had the emergency signal beacon over six hours ago.  SeaQuest was the closest vessel in the vicinity and they had to respond.

Medbay was prepped for injuries, and Engineering had a team standing by to assist with repairs.  They had no idea of the Intrepid's condition since communications were down.  UEO procedure required emergency medical and technical teams to be ready for anything.

"We're on our way," Bridger said.  "The party's over everyone.  Sorry, Lucas."

Like a well-rehearsed play, everyone began to move.  They all knew their places.  Bridger and Ford would be needed on the bridge.  Lt. Commander Hitchcock would be leading the repair team with Ensign Davis.  And even Lucas would go along to put the computer back online.

Lieutenant Jacob Johnson was new to seaQuest and being asked to command her temporarily was indeed an honor.  He knew, of course, that the only reason Captain Bridger allowed it in the first place was that he wanted to give his senior staff a little time to relax.

Otherwise, I wouldn't be here!

He'd never served on a ship this big before, but he was slowly getting used to it.  His promotion had indeed been a surprising one, not three weeks ago he'd been in charge of cleaning the head on the DSV Explorer.  Now he was Captain – well, temporary Captain – of the UEO flagship.  Things have a strange way of working out.

Scared stiff at first about sitting at the helm, Lt. Johnson was slowly growing accustomed to the duty.  As long as nothing eventful happened, he would be okay.  He turned to Lt. Reilly at communications.  "Signal the Intrepid, Mr. Reilly.  Tell them we stand ready to assist."

"Aye, sir," Reilly responded.

Barking orders on the bridge felt better than he thought.  But Johnson knew he shouldn't let it go to his head.  But he wasn't quite ready to rule out his own command yet.

Reilly turned from his station.  "The Intrepid is not responding, Sir."

That's odd, Jason thought.  "Signal them again."

A moment passed.

No need to get nervous.

"Still no response, sir."

"Open me a line, Lieutenant."

"Ready."

Johnson stood, wondering if it would make him sound taller.  "DSV Intrepid, this is Lt. Jacob Johnson in command of the seaQuest.  Please respond."

Nothing.

This was strange.  UEO procedure required their vessels to answer hails from other ships.

What did you guys do, fall asleep over there?

He uneventful trip to the world of command was becoming anything but.  He was beginning to get worried.

Bridger will be here in a few minutes.  I'll let him deal with it.

Lt. Chavez, acting weapons officer, suddenly turned from his station.  "You're not going to believe this, sir," he began, "but we're being targeted."

"By the Intrepid?"

"Yes, sir," replied Chavez.

This can't be happening.  Not on my first shot at bridge command!

Johnson's dreams of sitting in the command chair were slowly turning into a nightmare.

"They've locked on, sir," Chavez reported gravely.  "They're preparing to fire."

"Prepare countermeasures, Mr. Chavez.  I want them launched as soon as those birds are in the water."

"Aye, sir."

"And get me Captain Bridger."

Immediately after the words had come from Johnson's mouth, Chavez had begun to speak.  The news wasn't good.  "The Intrepid has fired, sir – two torpedoes away.  Impact in twenty seconds."

"Sound collision," Johnson said, gripping the side of his command chair.

Seadeck 4 was almost empty now.  The senior officers had remained for a few moments to discuss assignments.  No one was expecting the collision alarm to sound.

"All hand brace for collision!  All hands brace for collision!"

The Seadeck doors shut automatically at the sound of the alarm.  Each stunned crewmember grabbed frantically for a solid object.  Bridger, trying desperately to hold onto Westphalen and Lucas, activated his PAL.  "What the hell's going on up there?"

The torpedo hit its mark and the senior staff found themselves on the floor.  SeaQuest rocked back and forth under the pressure.

Lt. Johnson's frantic voice came over the speaker.  "It's the Intrepid, sir.  She's fired on us!"

Once again, the alarm sounded.  The crew struggled to brace themselves for another impact.

"Open a hailing frequency, Mr. Worf."

Picard stood and straightened his uniform.

"Ready, sir."

"This is Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise.  I demand to know why we've been fired upon."  The red alert klaxon blared wildly.  "Shut off that damned noise!"  He breathed a sigh of relief as the alarm quieted.

"The Intrepid is not responding, sir," Worf said.

"Keep the channel open, Lieutenant," Picard said.  "USS Intrepid, this is Captain Picard of the Enterprise.  You are in violation of Federation law.  Cease fire immediately and answer for your actions."

"Still no response, sir."

Picard returned to his seat and tried to assess the situation.  They'd all been relaxing in Ten Forward when the call came that the Intrepid was approaching.  Shortly after to the bridge, the Intrepid had fired, catching them totally off guard.  Damage reports were coming in from all over the ship.  The warp engines were offline with shields holding at sixty-five percent.  Things weren't looking good.  And they were getting progressively worse.

"Scan the Intrepid, Mr. Data," Picard said.  "Check for life forms."

"Aye, sir."  The android's fingers flew swiftly across the console.

"Laforge to bridge," a voice said suddenly.

Riker responded.  "Go ahead, Commander."

"I'm picking some type of quantum energy flux in the vicinity of the Intrepid.  It's strange.  If I didn't know any better, I'd say that ship wasn't there at all."

"See if you can't figure out something, Commander," Picard said.  "Bridge out."

"Intriguing," Data said suddenly.

"Report, Mr. Data."

Data turned to face the Captain.  "There are no life forms aboard the Intrepid."

Picard stood.  "Are you sure?"  Data nodded and was about to speak, but Picard interrupted him.  "Yes, of course, you are.  Are you picking up anything, Counselor?"

Troi shook her head.  "Nothing, Captain."

"What the hell is going on?" Picard asked no one in particular.

"Captain," Worf barked from the tactical station.  "The Intrepid is preparing to fire again."

Picard sat down.  "Transfer all unnecessary power to shields, Lieutenant.  And prepare to return fire."

Picard sighed heavily.  "Fire phasers, Mr. Worf."

The bridge crew watched as the phaser fire headed straight for the Intrepid…and passed right through it!

Data ran a scan.  "No report of damage, sir."

"That's impossible," Riker said.

Worf growled.  "The Intrepid is firing…two photon torpedoes."

"Change course, immediately!" Picard yelled.

"Helm is not responding," Ensign Rosen reported from the Conn.

"Lord, help us," Picard said as the photon torpedoes approached their target.

Nathan Bridger had no trouble relinquishing command from Lt. Johnson.  The lieutenant seemed extremely grateful when Bridger, Ford, and Hitchcock returned.  Standard bridge rotation was just fine with him.  He could wait for his own ship.

Meanwhile, the Intrepid's attack continued.  Bridger was quickly running out of options.  "Mr. Ford, how's she holding up?"

"Not good, sir.  We're taking in water on E-Deck.  Propulsion, weapons, communications, it's all gone.  We're going to have to cut power to non-essential decks to maintain life support."

"Damn," Bridger fumed.  "What else could go wrong?"

"Captain," Ortiz began, "I have something here you might be interested in."

Bridger turned.  "What is it, Miguel?"

"WSKRS have a visual on the Intrepid, but sonar's not picking up a thing.  The signal's not bouncing back to us."

"Are you saying the Intrepid isn't there, Miguel?" O'Neill asked.

"I can't explain it, Tim," Ortiz responded.

"Jonathan?" Hitchcock had been using the hyper-reality probe to get a closer look at their opponent.  "I concur with Ortiz.  HR-Probe's got a visual, but nothing shows up on infrared.  It's not there, sir."

Bridger wasn't so easily convinced.  "So the flagship of the UEO has been crippled by a mirage.  I'm sorry.  I may have seen everything but I find that hard to believe."  He turned to his old friend, Chief Manilow Crocker.  "What do you think, Chief?"

Crocker stroked his beard thoughtfully.  "Hard to say, Cap.  We've seen stranger things."

Bridger thought for a moment.  "Okay, until we know what's going on, everyone in the emergency shelters.  Hitchcock, set up a repair detail.  Cut power to all non-essential decks and shut down E-Deck.  Crocker, find Lucas for me.  Everyone else try to find me some answers."

Lucas threw his wet jeans onto the floor and fished another pair out of his overstuffed bunk drawer.  His body was still wet from his dip in the moonpool and he felt slimy as he pulled the dry jeans on and buttoned them.  Matt Davis, who had accompanied Lucas to his quarters, tossed a dry shirt to his friend.

"Thanks, Matt," Lucas said.  He pulled the shirt over his head and sat down to put on a new pair of socks.  "What's going on here, anyway?"

"I don't know, Lucas.  It's strange.  Crippled vessels don't usually attack the rescue party."

"It doesn't make any sense, Matt," Lucas said, pulling on a tennis shoe.   "Why would they fire on us?"

"Beats me, kid.  But I do know I'd better get to the bridge."  Matt smiled as he got up from the chair.  "Hitchcock probably is looking for me."

"Yeah, you wish," Lucas said with a laugh.  One of the many things they shared as friends was a crush on the chief engineer.  "Go ahead.  I'll catch up with you."

Matt turned and climbed through the doorway.  As he was shutting the airtight door, he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye.  He opened the door and stepped back through the portal.

"Lucas?" Mat said, looking around the room.  "Come on, Lucas.  This isn't funny.  Where are you?"

Lucas was gone.  A single tennis shoe lay in front of the bunk where he had been sitting.  Matt quickly activated his PAL as he stumbled through the portal.  He needed to get to the bridge.

Geordi LaForge had joined the rest of his crewmates on the bridge.  There was nothing more he could do for them in engineering.  However, his work there had not been unfruitful.  He'd discovered something very interesting about the Intrepid.  And Commander Riker was having a hard time swallowing it.

"The Intrepid is a hologram?" Riker asked.

"I ran a check on that energy flux I found.  It matches the pattern buffer in our transporters and holodecks exactly.  That would at least explain why our phasers didn't do any damage."

"But what about the damage to our ship?" Worf asked.  "Your theory does not explain that."

Picard interjected.  "Anything capable of creating a hologram that accurate and detailed would certainly be able to fool our sensors into believing that our ship was damaged.  The only question that remains is what we can do about it."

"Can you trace the source of the energy flux?" Riker inquired.

"I can trace a pattern as far out as the Intrepid.  That's as far as it goes."

"Another mystery," observed Counselor Troi.

"What about a wormhole?" suggested Riker.  "Or could we be caught in that energy flux?"

Data turned.  "That is a distinct possibility, Commander.  However, our records show no wormholes charted in this sector.  An alternate reality theory would in some ways explain the so-called 'non-existence' of the Intrepid."

Riker was still a little uncomfortable.  "But our sensors show massive damage.  The helm won't respond, and our weapons won't fire.  How are we supposed to test this theory of yours?"

LaForge turned to Riker.  "If we could fool the systems into believing everything's back to normal, we might be able to regain control of the ship.  But we'd have to shut down and reboot the computer.  It's a pretty routine procedure.  They're would be no harm done."

Picard considered the suggestion for a moment, stroking his chin.  "Make it so, Mr. LaForge."

LaForge moved to the main engineering station at the rear of the bridge.  Before initiating the computer shutdown, he ran a diagnostic scan that revealed something very strange on deck eleven.  "Data, are you reading what I'm reading?"

The android had noticed it, too.  "Yes, Geordi, indications of an energy fluctuation on deck eleven."

"Where on deck eleven?" Picard asked.

The Ops panel lit up and Data delivered the news.  "The energy fluctuation is originating from holodeck three."

Geordi confirmed it from the engineering station.  "Data's right, sir."

Picard stood and walked to Data at Ops.  "We cut power to deck eleven.  How could there be an energy fluctuation with no power?"

Again, the panel flashed with color as Data tried to find an answer to Picard's question.  "Power shutdown to deck eleven confirmed, sir.  But the origin of the energy fluctuation is in holodeck three."

Riker joined Picard.  "If Geordi's theory about false readings is correct, this could just be another wild goose chase.  Perhaps we should continue with the computer shutdown to make sure."

"Agreed," Picard said.  "Mr. LaForge and Mr. Data, please continue."

"Aye, sir," said Geordi.  "Computer, initiate emergency computer shutdown and reboot.  Authorization, LaForge Delta Five."

"Authorization confirmed.  Initiating emergency computer shutdown and reboot."

The lights went dark, replaced with the eerie, red glow of the backup illumination.  Each bridge station went down in sequence.  A short moment later the lights were up again and the stations were resetting themselves.

"Emergency shutdown and reboot successful," the computer said.  "All stations functioning normally."

Picard had returned to his command chair.  "Status reports, everyone."

"Helm control restored, sir," Ensign Rosen said.  "Awaiting your word."

"Communications, tactical, and life-support have also been restored," Worf reported.  "And there is no sign of the Intrepid."

"Confirmed, sir," Data said.  "But I'm still reading the energy flux from holodeck three."

"Find out more, Data.  Keep investigating."

"Aye, sir."

Picard sighed heavily.  At least his ship was safe, at least for now.

"Captain," Worf said from the tactical station.  "I'm picking up an emergency distress call."

"From you, Mr. Worf," Picard barked.  "We seem to be alone out here."

"Origin is unknown, sir.  But it's a primitive signal – transmitted by microwave."

Riker raised an eyebrow.  "Microwave?  That hasn't been used since the twenty-first century."

Picard stood.  "Put it on speaker, Mr. Worf."

Sounds of static filled the air – the quality of the transmission was poor.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday…this is UEO vessel seaQuest requesting immediate…

"…assistance…location unknown…mayday, mayday, mayday…this is UEO vessel seaQuest requesting immediate assistance…location unknown."

Lt. Tim O'Neill had been reciting the message over and over until his throat began to hurt.  With the help of Ortiz he had uses one of the WSKRS to try and link up with a communications satellite.  It was a crude way of reaching out to touch someone but if it worked it just might save their lives.  He continued on without hesitation, occasionally switching to one of the other twelve languages he spoke fluently.

Lt. Commander Hitchcock had been running a diagnostic on the hyper-reality probe and so far found no reason not to believe its findings.  Mother, Loner, and Junior, the three WSKRS, had also been given a clean bill of health.  The only explanation was that the Intrepid was somehow not there.  Unfortunately, no one on the bridge, least of all Captain Bridger, believed it for a second.

Bridger approached Hitchcock's station.  "Have you found anything, Commander?"

She pulled the HR Probe headset off and rubbed her eyes.  "She's in great shape, sir – WSKRS, too.  "That's as far as I've gotten."

"That's okay," Bridger said.  "Keep at it.  There's an answer somewhere."

Ford approached them, clipboard in hand.  He had been overseeing the repair detail and seemed thoroughly frustrated.  "Katie, I was thinking, what would happen if we shut down the ship's computer?"

Hitchcock thought for a moment.  "We've never done a hard shutdown at sea before.  Worse case scenario is the computer won't reboot itself.  We could lose what few systems we have left.  Why?"

"Yes, Jonathan," Bridger said.  "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"If the ship isn't really there, then our equipment has obviously been duped into believing that it is.  A hard shutdown might just give us the opportunity to see things as they really are, or aren't, sir."

Bridger considered the hypothesis.  "That's good thinking, Commander, but if you can't guarantee we won't lost the computer, then I don't know if we should risk it."

Ford leaned in closer.  "Begging the Captain's pardon, but we don't have that much left to risk.  Emergency oxygen regenerators will operate freely with or without the computer.  In forty-eight hours, backup power will fail if we don't at least try."

He glanced at Hitchcock, requesting backup.  Come on, Katie.  Go for the rebound.  She took her cue.  "Commander Ford has a point, sir.  It's worth a shot."

"Okay, Commander, you talked me into it," Bridger said.  "Just try not to break anything."

Ford and Hitchcock exchanged a smile.  Sure, sometimes double-teaming was unfair, but these were desperate times.  "Thank you, Captain," Ford replied, "but I can't do this on my own.  I'll need Lucas."

Before Bridger could answer, Ensign Davis and Chief Crocker walked onto the bridge, their faces echoing frustration and concern.  "What took you so long, Chief?" Bridger asked.  "And where's…"

Crocker interrupted.  "He's gone, Cap.  Lucas is missing."

The darkness surrounded Lucas Wolenczak, only this time he wasn't asleep.  He felt a sharp pain on the right side of his face; the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.  As near as he would tell, he was lying on stomach in the dirt, which placed him anywhere but seaQuest.

His memory was no help at all.  He'd been talking to Matt in mammal engineering while putting his shoes on.  There was a bright flash the instant Matt left the room, but after that everything was fuzzy – a free trip to nowhere.

Still disoriented, he rolled over on his back with little argument from his body.  Brimming with too much confidence, he attempted to sit up.  This time his body complained aggressively.  Head spinning, stomach wheeling, he slowly returned to his horizontal haven.

"Whoa," he said to himself.  "Bad idea.  The floor's your friend, Lucas.  Don't screw up a good thing."
The pain and darkness ruled out exploring his surroundings, so Lucas lay still and let the comfort of sleep overtake him.  Rest would come in handy later.

"Do you have a fix on that signal, Mr. Worf?" Picard asked.  The distress message had continued to play over and over with no clue to its origin.

"No, sir.  I'm not able to trace it."

"Do you have any reason to believe it's not authentic?"

"It's difficult to know for sure.  I can only assume that is a genuine call for help."

"Mr. Data," Picard began, "what can you tell us about who might be sending this distress call?"

The android cocked his head slightly, searching his memory for the requested information.  "In the twenty-first century, unregulated exploration of the world's oceans was in a state of chaos.  Eight world confederations emerged in 2006, dissolving the United Nations, each with the sole purpose of controlling the seas.  A massive rearmament took place as each confederation prepared for nuclear conquest.

"In 2007, the North Pacific Confederation commissioned Captain Nathan Hale Bridger to design and build the most advanced seagoing war vessel ever created, the seaQuest DSV-4600 – DSV meaning 'deep submergence vehicle.'  Captain Bridger resigned from the Nave in 2010 after the death of his son, leaving Captain Marilyn Stark to command the seaQuest when she set sail in 2013.

"In 2017, the Livingston Trench Incident occurred.  Vessels from five of the world's confederations assembled in the North Atlantic to claim the trench as their own.  Captain Stark was relieved of command by Commander Jonathan Ford after disobeying an order not to engage the other vessels.

"The lead to the creation of the UEO, rather the United Earth/Oceans Organization, in 2018.  Its purpose was to protect and preserve the world's oceans with seaQuest as its flagship.  Captain Bridger rejoined the military to assume command of the vessel, were he served until…"

"Thank you, Data," Picard said.  "That's quite enough."

"You are welcome, sir."

"Captain?" Counselor Troi had been quiet up to now; concentrating her energies on any though or feeling that might mean something.  "I'm picking up a number of different emotions – fear, anger, concern.  They're quite overwhelming."

"Are you all right, Deanna?" Riker asked.

"I'm fine.  Thank you, Will."

"Can you tell where they're coming from, Counselor?" Picard asked.  "Aboard the Enterprise perhaps?"

"Aboard the ship, yes," Troi stated, "but not from the crew."

"Sir?"  Geordi was still working at the engineering station.  "I might have found a partial explanation for that energy flux on deck eleven."

Picard stood and turned toward his chief engineer.  "Go ahead, Mr. LaForge."

"There's a program running in holodeck three.  It's taking massive amounts of energy from somewhere just to keep it together."

"Can you shut it down?" Picard asked.

"No, sir.  We can't control it from here."

For a moment, Picard thought about his own holodeck simulation, the detective, Dixon Hill.  What would he do with a mystery like this?

"Captain," Worf began, "I've been able to trace that distress call.  It's coming from Earth."

"That's impossible, Mr. Worf," said Riker.  "We're light years away from Earth."

Worf sounded insulted.  "Nevertheless, Commander, the signal originates from Earth."

All eyes immediately focused on the viewscreen.  The view of the Intrepid had been replaced with the planet Earth.  It majestically stared back at them.

"Mr. Data," Picard said, "are the sensors back online?"

"Aye, sir."

"Then tell us where we are."

The Ops panel lit up.  "Sensors confirm, sir, that we are in standard Earth orbit."

"Conn?" Riker asked.

"Yes, sir," Rosen reported.  "Standard Earth orbit."

"Wait a second," LaForge said suddenly.

"What is it, Geordi?"

"This is going to sound might strange, Commander, but this isn't our Earth.  It's the twenty-first century."

Picard did a double take.  "Light years in an instant.  Three hundred years in the past."

"Three hundred and forty-six, sir," Data corrected.

"You can confirm this, Mr. Data?"

"Yes, sir.  Greenwich mean time is oh-nine-thirty hours, March 30, 2019."

Picard stroked his chin again.  "The ship seems to out of immediate danger, Number One.  I'd like to see everyone in the Observation Lounge."

Lucas awoke in unbelievable pain.  A sharp kick to the stomach had been his wake-up call.  Another blow was delivered before he could even move, this time to the chest.  He struggled to regain his breath, spitting out dirt and blood from his mouth.

"Get up," a voice said.

For all he was worth, Lucas tried.  The energy wasn't there – the pain was too great.  If this was death, he wondered what was taking so long.  He really felt lousy.  Rolling on his back, he tried to open his eyes.  The right one was swollen shut.  He winced at the pain of touching it with his hand.  His left eye focused on a blurry figure standing over him.  He tried to speak but couldn't.  Raising his head brought on a heinous dizzy spell.  Getting up was not an option.  But nobody had bothered to tell his goal-kicking friend.

"I said get up!"

Again, Lucas tried to speak.  A few words made their way out.  "Please…no…no more."

Thud!

Another kick.  Lucas hugged his belly, gasped for air, and drew his legs up close to his body.  His stomach lurched and he vomited.  Then, he blacked out.

Anger had gotten the best of Dylan McShayne.  For so many years he'd fought the rage inside him.  It all came out now, with young Wolenczak at his mercy.  In some ways it felt good.  He was hurting the man who hurt Jade.  But it seemed so inessential.  What purpose did it server?  Dylan stopped and thought for a moment.  Something didn't feel right.

You're hurting the kid who grew into the man who hurt Jade.

It didn't seem right to hurt the kid.  When it came down to it, he was nothing more than a bully, picking on someone smaller than he.

Bullies are cowards.

His mom used to tell him that when he came home from school with a bloody nose. 

They just want attention.

But Dylan didn't want attention - he wanted revenge.  And now with young Wolenczak at his feet, he was ready.  If he let this kid grow up, then Jade would die again.  He couldn't let that happen.  Not again.

A wicked smile crossed his face.  He reached down and grabbed a handful of the young boy's hair, and pulled him up.

This might not be so bad after all.

"Come on, kid.  You have places to go and people to see."  Dylan dragged Lucas behind him.  He scrambled to remember what Q told him about activating this holodeck thing.  "Computer, begin program."

The emptiness that surrounded them was instantly changed into the interior of Dylan's home in San Francisco.  Every detail was exact, even down to the items on his mantle.  For a moment Dylan was taken aback as he took everything in.  This was truly a remarkable place Q had brought him to.  And Q certainly was a remarkable being.  Never had he been able to imagine having the opportunity to prevent the death of…

Dylan stopped.  Of course, Jade.  She'd be here, too.  She was the whole reason he was here.  He was going to see her again.  "Jade, are you here?"  His own voice startled him.

The silence was broken as a creaky door opened in front of him.  A beautiful, young woman stood before him.  Her long, red hair draped around her shoulders.  She was smiling at him, holding out her hand.

Leaving Wolenczak behind, Dylan slowly approached her.  His heart jumped as he took her hand and they embraced.  He held on tight in fear that it was all a dream.  Dylan breathed deep and took in her fragrance.  It was her perfume.  She was here with him now.

"I've missed you, Dylan."

He was surprised that she spoke, but not at all disappointed.  Her sweet voice had said his name once again.  Dylan squeezed here tighter.  "I've missed you, too."

Ensign Davis had not yet been able to explain what had happened to his friend, Lucas.  Bridger, Ford, and the rest of the bridge crew had waited for several minutes for Matt to pull himself together.  Patience was running thin.

"Tell me again, Matt," Bridger began.  "You were talking with Lucas in his quarters…"

Matt took a deep breath.  "I stopped off to talk to Lucas on my way to the bridge.  He was changing his clothes.  I left the room and noticed a flash of light out of the corner of my eye.  When I went back in, Lucas was gone.  He just wasn't there anymore, Captain."

Commander Ford was a little annoyed.  "People don't just disappear, Ensign."

"At ease, Commander," said Bridger.  "Now, Matt, are you sure you've told us everything?"

Sighing heavily, Matt nodded his head.  "Yes, sir.  That's everything."  He turned to Ford.  "With all due respect, Commander, I saw what I saw.  I know it doesn't make much sense – I can't explain it – but it's what I saw.  You know that Lucas is my friend.  If I knew any more about this, I'd tell you.  That's my report, sir."

Hitchcock stepped forward and placed a hand on Matt's shoulder.  "Captain, Ensign Davis has served on my engineering team for several months now.  He's a lot of things, sir, but he's not a liar."

Matt blushed.  "Thanks, Commander."

"Yes, Commander," Bridger said, "thank you.  Okay, listen up everyone.  Commander Ford, you and Hitchcock are going to have to restart the computer on your own.  Crocker, I want security teams all over this ship.  If Lucas is here, I want him found.

"If he's here, we'll find him, Cap," said Crocker as he and Lt. Krieg left the bridge.  Matt turned to follow them.

"Ensign Davis," Bridger said.

Matt stopped.  "Sir?"

"Commander Ford and Lt. Commander Hitchcock will be busy here on the bridge.  Do you think you could head up the repair detail on E-Deck?"

Matt seemed surprised and a little disappointed.  "Yes, sir, but…"

"But what, Ensign?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Always."

"I'd rather find Lucas."

"I know you would, son, but I need you on E-Deck.  Hitchcock tells me you've become pretty dangerous with a set of tools.  Besides, it'll keep your mind off things.  What do you say?"

Matt considered it for a moment.  With a nod and a grin, he said, "You're right, sir," and turned to walk off the bridge.  He stopped.  "Captain?"

"What is it, Ensign?"

"Do you pray, sir?"

Yes, Ensign, I do."

"Would you pray for Lucas, Captain?"

"You bet I will, Matt."

Satisfied, Ensign Davis left the bridge.

Hearing a splash, Bridger turned toward Darwin's tank.  He walked over and activated the vo-corder.  "Lucas gone?" the dolphin asked.

"It sure looks that way."

"Find Lucas!"

"I hope so, pal.  I certainly hope so."  Bridger switched off the vo-corder.  "Mr. O'Neill, are you having any luck?"

O'Neill had been rattling off the distress call in a number of languages and thought before he answered.  He wanted to be sure he spoke to the Captain in English.  "I'm afraid not, sir.  If they're out there, they're not responding."

"Keep trying, Lieutenant.  Mr. Ortiz?"

"WSKRS are getting a direct feed from the Nor-Pac defense satellite.  According to the data, Captain, there's an unidentified vessel orbiting the Earth."

"A vessel?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, sir.  Bigger than anything we've ever put into space."

"Keep your eye on it, Miguel," Bridger said.  "This day just keeps getting better and better."

The pain isn't so bad now, Lucas thought as he awoke once more.

His stomach still felt a little queasy and the right eye hadn't opened any, but in comparison he was feeling okay.  Soft cushions had replaced the dirt floor and the blurry vision in his left eye could almost make out a ray of sunshine coming through an unseen window.

The dizziness seemed to be gone, too, leading him to believe that he might be able to get up without any problem.  Lucas slowly raised himself into a sitting position and took a deep breath.  It hurt a little, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.  His main objective now was to figure out where he was.

Looking revealed only that he was in someone's living room.  His resting place had been a couch with billowy pillows.  The ray of sunshine he'd seen was coming through a large bay window behind him.  To his right was a table with a large, brass lamp and vid-phone resting on it.  A huge bookshelf unit took up most of the wall space in front of him containing a large television, movie disc player, various audio equipment and, of course, books.  The kitchen was on his left with a hallway leading somewhere beyond that.

Lucas slowly stood and waited for a moment to see if his body was going to disagree.  Satisfied that he could stand on his own, he began making his way to the kitchen, taking lop-sided steps because of his missing shoe.  Concentrating deeply on walking straight, Lucas failed to hear the footsteps coming down the hall.  He was startled when he came face to face with a man not much older than himself.

"You're not going anywhere, hot shot," the man said.  Lucas knew the moment the stranger spoke that this was his enemy.  He was a few inches taller, had jet-black hair and eyes that burned with rage.  "You and me are gonna have ourselves a little chat."

Instinctively, Lucas backed himself up, but there was nowhere to go.  Afraid for his life, his mouth opened and started babbling.  "Wolenczak, Lucas Aaron…UEO…C77-30501."

"Shut up, kid!" the stranger yelled.  "I know more about you than you do.  Now sit down before I knock you on your ass!"

Lucas did as he was told.  The stranger remained standing and seemed to be wondering what to say next.  It didn't take him long.

"I suppose you're wondering who I am and what you're doing here."

Quick as lightning, Lucas fired off a sarcastic comeback.  "No, actually, I was wondering what the Braves-Marlins score was last night."

The stranger ignored that comment.  "My name is Dylan McShayne, Lucas, and this is my home."

"I love what you've done with the place."

Lucas was caught by surprise as a fist connected with his right eye.  The pain was incredible but he refused to show it.

"Real funny, Wolenczak.  You're in my world now and there's no one here to wipe your nose.  I suggest you cut out the sarcasm.  Killing you now or later makes no difference to me."

"Look, I'm sorry," Lucas began, "but there's obviously more to this than you just mistaking my head for a football.  I don't even know you, man.  What could I have possibly done to you?"

You killed her, Lucas.  You killed my fiancée."

"What are you talking about?  I've never…"

"You haven't done it yet.  That's why I'm here – to stop you."

Lucas thought for a moment.  "So, you're here from the future?"

"A piece of it, anyway – the year 2113."

"And I killed her your fiancée at 110 years old?"

"No, you passed away before she died."

"So, I didn't kill her?"

"You did kill her."

"But you just said I was dead."  Lucas was getting frustrated.  "Look, you're not making much sense here."

Dylan was also frustrated, pacing about the room.  His mind was spinning in a hundred different directions.  "In 2043, you made an incredible breakthrough that changed the way the scientific community looked at artificial intelligence.  But that lead to some pretty nasty things after your death.  You see, Lucas, in my time the world is controlled by computers.  Justice no longer exists; an army of robotic soldiers that have no respect for human life patrols the streets.  During an attempted robbery at a food bank, my fiancée, Jade, was mistake for a criminal.  The executed her on the spot, three months before our wedding."

Dylan stopped and turned his head away.  There was no point in going on.  He didn't have to justify his actions to anyone, least of all Lucas Wolenczak.  "Well, now you know why you're here and why I have to kill you."

Lucas stood up.  "No, I don't.  I'm really sorry that your fiancée is dead, but you can't blame me for that.  You said yourself that I died thirty-five years before this ever happened.  And maybe I did make some incredible breakthrough in artificial intelligence, but I didn't point the gun and pull the trigger."

"But it all started with you, Lucas.  Your life's work ended a life.  You're right; you alone may not have killed Jade.  But you, along with everyone else who followed your work, did.  And if killing you can stop that chain of events from occurring again, then that's what I have to do."

"It won't bring her back," Lucas said.  "I know how you feel.  You're hurting like crazy on the inside and you need to take that pain out on someone."

"You're just a kid, for crying out loud," Dylan said.  "You don't know about pain."

"The hell I don't!  I grew up with a father that didn't care and a mother that meant the world to me.  I lost her not to long ago and it ripped my heart out.  I wanted my dad dead because of what he put my mother and me through, but you know what, Dylan?  All that hatred and bitterness, as powerful as it was, didn't bring back my mother.

"Now if you want to kill me, then go ahead and do it.  I guarantee you that Jade will still be dead and you'll still hurt for it.  You're going to feel that pain until you make peace with yourself."

Lucas hadn't realized it until now that he was up in Dylan's face.  He backed up and sat down on the couch, waiting for a reaction.  He didn't have to wait long.

"You've got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, Wolenczak.  Nothing you could say would make my change my mind about this.  Just to show you what a nice guy I am, I'll give you a couple more hours.  I'll be back, though."

Dylan turned and disappeared down the long, dark hallway.  Emotionally spent, Lucas leaned back against the couch and took a deep breath.  "Way to go, Lucas," he said.  "Even when you're died you still manage to screw things up."  He laughed and then began singing to himself, "Happy birthday to me…Happy Birthday to me…"

If the walls of the Enterprise observation lounge could talk, they would have fascinating stories to tell.  None more unusual, however, than the one unfolding now.  For fifteen minutes the senior officers had been trying to make sense out of their present situation.  No one had any answers.  And although time didn't seem to be a factor, they felt like they were running out of it.

"And all attempts to communicate with Starfleet Command have proved unsuccessful?" Picard asked.

"Yes, sir," responded Worf.  "The only people we seem to have contact with are the ones on the vessel asking for help."

"SeaQuest," Picard whispered to himself.  "The question remains, ladies and gentlemen, can we help this vessel without violating the Prime Directive?"

"If I may, sir?" Data volunteered.  "In studying the service record of the twenty-first century ship, I discovered a vital link between their time and ours.  Computer, display file on seaQuest."  A submarine, looking remarkably like a squid, appeared on the viewscreen.  The schematic rotated, revealing many different views of the awesome vessel.  "As you all know, Captain Nathan Bridger is an extremely prominent figure in our own military history.  Not so well-known, but equally as important to our time, is a young boy by the name of Lucas Wolenczak."

The smiling face of a blond-headed teenager appeared on the viewscreen.  LaForge whistled.  "Lucas Wolenczak?  Data, are you sure?"

"Yes, Geordi.  He served on seaQuest for many years."

"Forgive my ignorance," Riker began, "but who is Lucas Wolenczak?"

Data smiled.  "He is considered by many to be the grandfather of positronics."

"Yeah, among other things," Geordi said.  "Every computer innovation of the past three hundred years can be traced back to him.  He was a genius."

"Had it not been for Lucas Wolenczak," Data said, "my father, Dr. Soong, may never have created me."

Geordi nodded.  "And technology as we know it would be radically different.  Every ship's system is tied into a computer network based on Wolenczak's theories.  We owe a lot to that kid, Commander."

Riker was convinced.  "Okay, so we have to help them.  But how?"

"I suggest we proceed carefully, Number One," Picard said.  "They're probably not ready to meet a starship from the twenty-fourth century."

"Which brings up another question, Captain," LaForge noted.  "How did we get here?"

Data answered.  "Commander Riker's theory of a wormhole would provide the most logical explanation."

"But Data," LaForge began, "you said yourself that there were no wormholes charted in the Logares V sector."

"You are correct, Geordi, but I said it was the most logical explanation, not the most probable."

LaForge was puzzled.  "So, how did we get here, Data?"

"I do not know, Geordi."

A flash of light startled the bridge crew.

"How disappointing to find the ever-resourceful Mr. Data at a loss for an explanation."

Picard knew whom the voice belonged to before he even turned around.  "Q," he said as he rotated his chair.

"My dear Jean-Luc," Q said.  "How are you, old friend?"

"You are not welcome here, Q.  And you most certainly not my friend."

"You know, Picard, this eternal bad mood of yours is really getting old."

Riker could see that the Captain needed a few minutes to calm himself.  He stood and approached their unwanted visitor.  "What do you want, Q?  Why have you brought us here?"

Q smiled.  "Ahh, the equally-as-stuffy Commander Riker.  Fear not, 'Number One,' you're only along for the ride this time."

"Explain yourself, Q!" Picard demanded.  "Why do you deem it necessary to interrupt another mission for more of your foolishness?"

"I find it hard to believe that a species so famous for repeating history isn't excited about living it."  Q took a seat at the table next to Data.

Picard felt like a ringmaster at a circus.  "Enough with the insults, Q.  Tell us why you're here."

"I've come to change history, Jean-Luc," Q said gleefully.  "And I've brought a friend."

"Could you be a little more specific?" asked Riker.

"Of course, please forgive me.  In my study of your kind I've encountered some fascinating specimens.  Of the many behaviors I've observed, I find revenge to be the most interesting.  And that brings me to the friend I spoke of, a man from your past.  His name is Dylan McShayne, and he wants revenge against the man who murdered, albeit indirectly, his fiancée.  His only problem: how to kill a man who died thirty-five years after the murder took place.  I took pity on the poor soul and decided to help him."

"How, Q?" Picard asked.  "How are you going to help him?"

"I brought him and the other fellow here."

"And what does that have to do with us?" Riker asked.

"You see, Number One, I needed a fair playing field, a place where his world could be recreated in every detail.  What better place than your holodeck?"

"Well, that explains the energy flux," Geordi said.

"So, Dylan McShayne and this other fellow are here, now, on the holodeck?"

"Very good, Riker," Q said.

"I don't buy it, Q," Picard said.  "You didn't need our holodecks to recreate anything.  You could have done that yourself."  He rose and spoke to the crew.  "Q is here because he wants us to get involved.  You all know as well as I do that he can't be allowed to change history.  Am I right?"

"Bravo, Picard," Q said, applauding.  "My job was to bring the two young men here.  That was the easy part.  Now they're your responsibility.  I'm only an observer from now on.  I'll check in with you later."

Q snapped his fingers and disappeared in a flash of light.

Picard sighed heavily and looked around the room.  "Suggestions?"

"Our first order of business should be contacting the seaQuest," said Data.  "Our presence in their time must be associated with Q's plan."

"Your right, Data," Geordi began, "they're tied into this thing somehow."

Riker nodded.  "I agree, Captain."

Picard looked to Counselor Troi.  "What do you think?"

She took a deep breath.  "As you said before, we should proceed carefully.  I don't sense any hostility from them but they are confused and very frightened.  They want answers just as much as we do."

"And our visitors on the holodeck?" Picard asked.

"I sense fear from both of them, Captain, but also rage.  One of them is very angry."

Picard seemed unsure of himself.  The Academy never prepared you for situations like this.  All you had to go on sometimes was your crew's advice and a little bit of luck.  This was one of those times.  "Mr. Worf, lead a security team to deck eleven.  I want them outside of holodeck three."

"Aye, sir."

"Dr. Crusher, put sickbay on alert."  He motioned for them all to rise.  "As for the rest of you, please join me on the bridge."

Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher was on his final check of deck eleven.  He'd been put in charge of evacuation and couldn't help but feel proud of himself as he made his walk-through.  Of course, evacuating a mostly unoccupied deck wasn't exactly a dream assignment, but it was an assignment from the Captain.  Wesley looked forward to serving in any capacity, even if it was a "no-brainer."

As he turned the corner toward his final destination, he immediately noticed something odd.  The programming panel of holodeck three was illuminated, an indication that a program was running.

As he approached the panel, he said, "Computer, end program in holodeck three."

"Unable to comply," the computer responded.  "No programs have been initiated."

He tried keying in the manual shutdown code, which also didn't work.

"Computer, identify occupant of holodeck three."

"Unable to comply.  Holodeck three is currently unoccupied."

Wesley was growing impatient.  "Computer," this time he said it slower, as if the computer might have misunderstood him the first time, "identify occupant of holodeck three."

"Unable to comply.  Holodeck three is currently unoccupied."

Frustrated, he entered a priority override code into the panel.  Normally, he would never interrupt anyone during a holodeck simulation, but these were not normal circumstances.  The door opened slowly and Wesley found himself staring down the hallway of what appeared to be someone's home.

Curious, he stepped inside and jumped as the holodeck door closes behind him.  Darkness enveloped Wesley as he made his way down the hall, past several closed doors, toward what looked like the main living area.  The air smelled clean, someone took care of the place.  With the wonder of a child, he pressed on, making the most of this new adventure.  Then a small fear struck him.  He wasn't armed, but then again, this was the holodeck.  He was safe on board the Enterprise.

"Hello," Wesley said, "is anyone here?"

There was no answer, but he heard movement up ahead.

"This deck was ordered off limits by Captain Picard.  I'm afraid you'll have to leave now."

Wesley passed the kitchen and entered a large, well-furnished room.  Sunlight poured through a large bay window on the left.  As his eyes adjusted to the light, he was able to make out a figure sleeping on the couch below the window.  It was a boy, about his age, with blond hair.  His face was badly beaten and bloody, his clothes torn and dirty.  His left foot, covered with a filthy tennis show, was hanging over the front of the couch, dangling above the floor.  The right foot, shoe missing, was propped on the armrest.

Not sure what he should do, Wesley approached the couch and bent down on one knee to get a closer look.  No, he didn't recognize the face, but it was in pretty bad shape.  He gently nudged the boy's shoulder.  "Hello?  Are you okay?"

The stranger was startled awake.  His left eye opened and widened as it focused on Wesley.  He tried to right himself and coil back, but was unsuccessful.  "Who are you?"

Wesley held his hands up.  "I'm Wesley Crusher.  I won't hurt you.  Do you know where you are?"

The boy relaxed somewhat.  "You've got to get me out of here.  He's trying to kill me."

You're safe here.  You're on board the Enterprise.  No one's going to hurt you."  Wesley had managed to help him sit up on the couch.  "Can you tell me your name?"

A little disoriented, the stranger was quiet for a moment.  "Lucas…Lucas Wolenczak."

That name sounds familiar, Wesley thought as he sat down on the couch.

Lucas made a quick look down the hallway, as if expecting someone, then tuned back to Wesley.  "Where did you say I was again?"

Wesley smiled.  "The Federation Starship Enterprise."

"Starship?" Lucas said, looking around him.  "I really must have been hit pretty hard because it looks almost like my next door neighbor's living room."

"Oh," Wesley said with a laugh.  "You're on the holodeck."

"The holodeck?  Oh, yes, of course, the holodeck.  How silly…"

"Wesley!" a voice said suddenly.  It was Lt. Worf.  He and a security team, all wielding phasers, had entered unnoticed.  "Come over here and get behind me."

Lucas took one look at Worf and the fear came back.  "Uhh, Wesley…who's that?"

Wesley stood and approached the security team.  "It's okay, Worf.  This is Lucas and he needs medical attention."

Worf seemed surprised.  "Lucas Wolenczak?"

"Yeah, Lucas Wolenczak," Lucas said with attitude.  "Wesley, who is he?"

"Sorry, Lucas," Wesley began.  "This is Lt. Worf, chief of security.  He's a Klingon."

"Oh, boy," Lucas said, sitting down again.

Worf tapped his comm badge.  "Worf to Captain Picard."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"We're here on holodeck three, sir…with Lucas Wolenczak."

There was a long pause before the Captain answered.  "Mr. Worf, are you sure?"

"Very sure, sir.  And he's hurt badly."

"What about Dylan McShayne, Mr. Worf," Picard asked.  "Is he there, too?"

"No, sir."

"Get Mr. Wolenczak to sickbay immediately.  You stay with the security team and find McShayne."

"Aye, sir," Worf said.

Wesley tapped his comm badge and sat down next to Lucas.  "Transporter room, this Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher.  Two to beam directly to sickbay – lock onto my signal."

"Wait, Wesley," Lucas began, "I'm not going…"

Before Lucas could finish, the particle beam had illuminated, and he and Wesley vanished, on their way to sickbay.

Commander Ford stood in the darkness saying a silent prayer to himself.  He and Hitchcock had successfully managed to shut down the main computer, leaving them with only the oxygen generators.  And now it was time to bring the computer back online, or at least try to.  It was a risky effort indeed, not ever having been tried before.  That was the subject of his prayer.

"Okay, Katie," Ford said.  "Let's give it a try."

Somewhere off to the right, Hitchcock said, "Hold on, everyone."

The red glow of the auxiliary lights faced as the primary illumination kicked in.  Each station monitor flickered, rolled and came online.  A gentle klunk-shush could be heard as power was restored to the ballast tanks.  The familiar hum of the engines and hiss of the ventilation systems seemed to signal that everything was okay.

Bridger smiled.  "Let's run a diagnostic, everyone."

Ortiz was the first to report.  "WSKRS online and operational, sir.  The Intrepid seems to have vanished.  I'm still picking up that vessel in orbit, though."

"Engines and life support back online," Hitchcock said.  "Ensign Davis even managed to patch up E-Deck.  Looks okay, Captain."

"Helm control restored, Captain," Ford reported.  "I think we did it, sir."

"Good job, Commander," Bridger said.  "Mr. O'Neill, what have you got for me?"

Had it been up to him, Lt. O'Neill might have given up with their distress call over an hour ago, but the Captain had insisted he continue.  O'Neill had looped the call and set it to repeat automatically at intervals of every three minutes.  The Captain's persistence had paid off.  They were finally receiving a response.  "Captain," he began, "we're being hailed."

"Open a channel, Mr. O'Neill."

"Aye, sir."

Bridger stepped forward.  "This is Captain Nathan Bridger of the UEO vessel seaQuest.  Please respond."

"Captain Bridger, I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation ship Enterprise.  We've been monitoring your distress call.  How may we be of assistance?"

"There are no other vessels for miles around, Captain," Ortiz said softly.

"Can you trace that signal, Mr. O'Neill?" Bridger whispered.

O'Neill nodded but didn’t say a word.

"Yes, Captain Picard," Bridger began, "thank you for your offer, but we have overcome our mechanical difficulties and repaired the damage to our ship.  By the way, would you mind telling us where you are?  You're not showing up on any of our scans."

"That's a little hard to explain, seaQuest.  You see, we're not exactly what or where you think we are."

"Got it, sir," O'Neill said.  "The signal is coming from that large vessel orbiting the Earth."

Bridger turned toward Ortiz.  "Can you confirm that?"

"Yes, sir."

Bridger and Ford exchanged a concerned look.  The Captain took a deep breath before he continued.  "This may sound like a strange question, Enterprise, but we're picking a large object in orbit around the earth.  Would that by any chance be you?"

"It is, Captain."

"Then you have some explaining to do," Bridger said.  "I'm waiting."

"Yes, seaQuest, I agree, but this is quite a long and difficult story to explain.  Would you allow myself and a few of my crew aboard your ship?"

Commander Ford made a quick cutting motion with his hand, which signaled O'Neill to mute the channel.  "Captain, I don't know if that's such a good idea.  For all we know this vessel is the cause of all our trouble."

Bridger thought for a moment.  He looked to Lt. Commander Hitchcock.  "What do you think?"

Hitchcock joined the two of them and whispered, "Commander Ford does have a valid point, sir.  We know nothing about them, but I also understand it's a necessary risk."

Again, Bridger seemed lost in thought.  "Okay, get a hold of Crocker.  I want him and a small security team here on the bridge.  The rest of them need to be put on alert.  Commander Ford, I'm sorry, but they're all we have right now.  Mr. O'Neill?"

"Ready."

"Captain Picard," Bridger said, "we will allow a small boarding party, but I must ask how you plan to get here.  We are under a thousand feet of water."

"Once again, that's rather difficult to explain.  Just be assured that we do have our methods.  Will fifteen minutes be acceptable?"

"Yes, Captain.  We'll see you then.  SeaQuest out."

Ford still wasn't convinced.  "I hope you know what you're doing, sir."

"Yes, Commander," Bridger said.  "So do I."

"What's your opinion, Counselor?" Picard asked as the turbolift carried them both, along with Riker, to deck six.

"I sense an understandable anxiety from their crew.  They're not quite sure what to think about us, but they don't mean us any harm.  And they're worried about Lucas."

"Any ideas about what we're going to say to them, sir?" Riker asked.

"The truth had crossed my mind, Number One.  However hard it may be for them to believe, I think it's our only option.  If they've encountered half of what we have today, then convincing them shouldn't be a problem."

"Something you need to understand, sir," Troi began, "is that Captain Bridger thinks of Lucas like a son.  The bond between them is incredibly strong.  They've both lost people who were important to them.  Captain Bridger will do anything to get him back."

Picard thought about that for a moment, not knowing how to respond.  That was something he could not relate to.  He thought of his own relationship with Wesley.  Sure, he would move heaven and earth to see the boy's safety, but as far as an emotional attachment was concerned, he just didn't know.  "Thank you, Counselor."

Riker seemed the uneasiest of the three.  "Do you ever get the feeling that we're dancing all around the Prime Directive?"

"Everyday, Will," Picard responded, "but in this case, Mr. Data was right.  Young Wolenczak's safety is vital to the future of the human race.  We must do all that we can to save him."

The turbolift's doors opened and its occupants stepped out onto deck 6.  Hesitating for a moment, Picard looked at his away team.  He waited for some words of wisdom and encouragement.  When none cane, he turned and headed for transporter room 2.

Chief Crocker and Ensign Davis stood ready for the visitors from the Enterprise.  Commander Ford had fully briefed them with all the latest details, but they still had no idea what was in store.  The same uneasy feeling permeated the bridge crew.  They had been taught to expect the unexpected.  That still didn't make the unexpected and easier to understand.

Bridger squirmed in his command chair.  Unable to get comfortable, he stood and paced back and forth in front of Darwin's tank.  "Commander, how long has it been?"

Ford chuckled.  "Sir, with all due respect, you're making everyone nervous."

Bridger stopped pacing and approached his first officer.  "Sorry, Jonathan," he said, "but how long has it been?"

Ford smiles.  "About fifteen…"

"Captain," Ortiz shouted, "I'm picking up…something."

"What do you mean?"

Hitchcock gasped.  "Captain…I think he means…that."

She pointed to the rear of the bridge where an eerie glow of yellow light formed in three places.  Thousands of glittering particles shout out of the lights in all directions and danced around in an electrical panic.

Bridger, Ford, and Hitchcock gathered together while the rest of the bridge crew stood in stunned silence.  "Okay, everyone," the captain said, "stay alert."

As the particles began to form a cohesive shape, Crocker and Davis took their positions at either side of the commanding officers.  "Be careful, Cap," Crocker said.

Three humans appeared suddenly within the dancing particles and glow diminished considerably.  Finally, it darkened, leaving two men and a woman standing at the rear of the bridge.  They looked around and evaluated the curious stares that shot back at them.

On the left stood a striking, young man in his thirties.  He wore his beard well and his look was solemn.  He wore a red and black jumpsuit, with three gold pins on the collar.  A beautiful woman with long, dark hair was on the right.  Her jumpsuit was blue and black, with gold pins on the collar.  In the center, a regal, balding man pushing sixty stood, and without saying a word, let people know he was the leader.  His uniform was the same as the other gentleman, only his collar had four gold pins.

Bridger stepped forward and extended his hand.  "I'm assuming one of you is Captain Picard?"

The bald man in the center stepped out and accepted Bridger's hand into his own.  "And you must be Captain Bridger."

"Yes," Bridger said with a smile.  He then introduced his crew.  "Please meet my first officer, Commander Jonathan Ford; and my chief engineer, Lt. Commander Katherine Hitchcock."

Picard shook each of their hands.  "This is my first officer, Commander William Riker; and ship's counselor, Deanna Troi

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Bridger said.  "Welcome to seaQuest."

"Thank you, Captain," Picard said.  "Forgive me for being so forward, but is there a place we can talk?"

Bridger smiled.  "First of all, call me Nathan.  We can speak in the Ward Room.  This is Chief Crocker, head of security.  He'll escort you there.  Commander Ford and I will be along in a few minutes."

Crocker led the visitors off the bridge and down the corridor.

"They seem harmless enough," Bridger said.

"Harmless?" Ford replied.  "You saw how they got here.  Who's to say they didn't take Lucas?"

"Look, Jonathan, they're here on our turf.  We have the advantage.  Besides the fact that they're the only lead we have."  Bridger could see that Ford still wasn't convinced.  "There's no harm in talking to them."

"If you say so, sir, but I still don't like it."

Bridger smiled.  "Have a little faith, Commander."  He motioned for Ford to follow him.  "Hitchcock, you have the bridge."

"Whoa!" Lucas said.  "What was that?"

He and Wesley had just rematerialized in sickbay.  It was obvious that Lucas had never beamed anywhere before.

"It's our transporter," Wesley replied.  "It breaks down molecules and redistributes them in a different place.  Come sit over here."

Lucas did as he was told and sat down on a long table.  A beautiful, redheaded woman in a blue and black uniform approached them with a small device in her hand.  When activated, the little gray box hummed and flashed.  She waved it in front of his body.

"Hi, Mom," Wesley said.

She smiled.  "That's Doctor Crusher, Ensign.  I believe you're still on duty."

Wesley seemed a bit embarrassed being called down in front of Lucas, but he quickly recovered.  "I'd like for you to meet Lucas Wolenczak, Doctor.  I found him on the holodeck."

"We've heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Wolenczak," the doctor said.

"Yeah, so I've noticed.  What is that thing?"

"It's a tricorder," Wesley said.  "It helps gather information – kind of like a pocket computer."

"This will help me determine what's wrong inside your body.  Here, lie down."  Dr. Crusher continued scanning.  "One broken rib, a lot of bruises, but other than that you're going to be fine."

She grabbed another device and waved it over his right eye.  The sharp pain changed to a dull ache instantly and ended the swelling.  He could see again.  She then moved the device down to his side and, again, the pain changed.  "You're going to be sore for a few days, Lucas, but it will go away."

"That was amazing," Lucas said.  "How did you do that?"

The doctor grinned.  "A good magician never reveals her secrets.  Wesley, see about a change of clothes for our guest."

Lucas shrugged.  "Can either one of you tell me what I'm doing here?"

"That would best be left to Lt. Commander Data," Dr. Crusher said.  "He asked to see you as soon as you're condition was confirmed."

"Lt. Commander Data?"

"He's the Second Officer," Wesley said, handing him a gray jumpsuit.  "Come on, you can wash up over here while you're waiting for him."

Dr. Kristin Westphalen was obviously taken with Jean-Luc Picard.  Captain Bridger had asked her to join them in the Ward Room and immediately regretted the decision.  The doctor couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of him.

Neither captain really knew what to say, although a thousand questions roamed through each of their minds.  It was probably more of not knowing where to begin that not knowing what to say.  Bridger had spent most of his time trying not to seem too uneasy, but realized that he was probably making things a whole lot worse than they really were.

I'm letting Commander Ford's cynicism get the best of me, he thought.  Still, a little cynicism was healthy every now and then.  "So, Captain Picard," Bridger began, "I think you promised us an explanation."

"Yes, of course, I did," Picard replied.  "You see, Nathan, we are from your future – the twenty-fourth century.  In our day, space exploration is a common occurrence.  There are literally thousands of vessels such as ours roaming the heavens.  A body of different races and cultures, known as the United Federation of Planets, governs us.  Starfleet, of which we are a part of, is the organization in place to maintain peace and order throughout the galaxy.  During the first mission of the Enterprise, we encountered a being known as Q.  The Q is a race of god-like beings with extraordinary powers.  Which is how we came to your time.  Number One?"

"Q has always liked to cause trouble for us," Riker began.  "He claims to be fascinated with humans and keeps coming up with new ways to test our reactions in different situations.  He's used to put the whole human race on trial, and even once gave me his powers just to see how I would use them."

"But what does that have to do with us?" Bridger asked.

"Q brought with him an individual from our past and your future obsessed with revenge toward the young man who killed his fiancée.  It just so happens this young man is from your present.  Q is using us as referees in an old fashioned game of cat and mouse.  The two individuals are on board our ship right now."

"But, again," Westphalen asked, "what could that possibly have to do with us?"

"It's Lucas, isn't it?" Bridger said.

"Yes, Nathan," Picard replied.  "I'm afraid it is.  Don't worry; he's alright for the moment.  One of our ensigns found him to in pretty bad shape – beaten rather severely.  He's under the care of my chief medical officer as we speak."

"And the other fellow?"

"We've yet to apprehend him, "Riker said, "but our security team is working on it."

"Forgive me, Captain Picard," Ford began, "but how do we know that you're telling us the truth.  I mean, for all we know, you kidnapped Lucas."

"Jonathan!" Bridger barked.

"No, it's alright, Nathan," Picard said.  "I understand your first officer's skepticism."

"I don't think you do, Captain," Ford replied.  "Do you really expect us to believe this story of yours?"

"I know this is difficult for you," Picard began, "but you must understand that we mean you no harm.  Our purpose in coming here was not to frighten or intimidate you.  We wanted to explain what to you seemed like an unexplainable situation.  We're putting ourselves at risk just by being here, actually."

"How so?" Commander Ford asked.

"The United Federation of Planets has a law known as the Prime Directive.  In basic terms this law forbids us from interfering with the natural order of a society'sprogression.  Our founders believed that by doing so we would change that society's history according our own value system.  I'll have a lot of explaining to do with Starfleet Command."  Picard stopped, hoping to learn something from the faces that stared back at him.

"Then why come?" Westphalen asked.  "If you're sworn to uphold this law of yours, that is."

"There are, of course, Doctor, exceptions to every rule," Riker said.  "In this case, if we don't interfere, then we will be changing the future – our present.  Any changes made now, in your time, could have terrible implications in ours."

"You all play an important role in our history," Troi explained.  "The contributions you made were vital to the survival of the Earth."

"What contributions?" Ford asked.

Troi smiled.  "It's dangerous for anyone to know too much about their own future.  We can't go into specifics."

"Counselor Troi is right, I'm afraid," Picard said, "but I can tell you that one particular individual's contributions were paramount.  If this person's life were to end before being allowed to make his mark, then the future might change dramatically."

"We're still talking about Lucas, aren't we?" Bridger asked, knowing the answer.

Picard sighed.  "Yes."

"I always knew that boy was going places."  Bridger looked to Ford and Westphalen, waiting for their approval.  They both nodded simultaneously.  "All right, Captain," he began, "I don't know how we can help you, but we will."

"I'm glad to hear that, Nathan," Picard said, "and forgive me for not mentioning it earlier, but you can call me Jean-Luc."

Westphalen screamed suddenly as Q appeared in a flash of light.

"How nice, Picard," he said.  "You have some new friends to play with."  He looked at Westphalen.  "Even if they are a bit jumpy."

Picard was extremely irritated, but he held his tongue.

"Your manners, Jean-Luc," Q said.  "Aren't you going to introduce me?"  With a wave of his hand, he turned to Bridger.  "Oh, never mind, I'll do it myself.  You'll have to forgive him Captain Bridger; this anger is a chronic thing with him.  How do you do?  My name is…"

"Q," said Bridger.  "I've heard all about you."

"Ahh, my reputation precedes me.  How nice!"

Crocker burst in with Ensign Davis, their weapons in hand.  "I heard the scream, Cap.  Is everything…" 

The security chief stopped as his eyes fell on Q.

"Here comes the cavalry!" Q screamed delightfully.

"What the…" Crocker began.

"It's okay, Chief," Bridger said.  "You and Matt can wait outside."

Crocker didn't seem at all happy to oblige, but he did anyway.  "Whatever you say, Cap."

"How exciting!" Q said.

"You've taken a member of my crew, Q."  Bridger stood and faced the cosmic visitor.  "I want him back."

"Well, of course, I could bring him back to you, but where would the fun be in that?  You'll have to get him back yourself."

"The game is over, Q," Riker said.  "We've found Lucas Wolenczak."

"You really think it's over, Commander?" Q asked.

Before Riker could answer, Worf's voice came over the comm badge.  "Worf to Captain Picard."

"My, my, my," Q said.  "I wonder what this could be about."  Then, he vanished.

"Go ahead, Mr. Worf."

"Dylan McShayne has escaped from holodeck three.  He overpowered on my security team and took a phaser.  He's headed for sickbay."

"Alert, Dr. Crusher, but try and make sure she won't have anything to worry about.  Find McShayne, Worf.  Picard out."  He turned to Captain Bridger.  "I apologize, Nathan, but I must return to my ship.  I want to make sure that Lucas isn't harmed."

Bridger stood.  "We'd like to come, too, Jean-Luc.  Lucas is our responsibility."

Picard thought for a moment.  He then exchanged glances with Troi and Riker.  "Of course.  You and your team are welcome aboard the Enterprise."

"Thank you," Bridger said.  "Crocker?"

The Chief opened the door in a flash.  "What's the matter, Cap?"

"Nothing, Chief.  Ford, the Doctor, and I will be going aboard the Enterprise."

Crocker shook his head.  "I don't think that's such a good idea, sir."

"We'll be fine.  I have to see to it that Lucas is okay.  You understand that, right?"

"Okay, Cap, but be careful."

"Always," Bridger said.  "Okay, we're ready when you are Jean-Luc."

Picard tapped his comm badge.  "Picard to transporter room three.  Six to beam up."

Data was used to all kinds of reactions when people first met him.  However, Lucas Wolenczak had been different.  The android had "sensed" no fear from the young man, which is the normal reaction, but only a true sense of wonderment.  It was as if Data had finally met someone, besides Geordi, of course, who was truly amazed with him.  That child-like amazement was a fresh turn-around.

They'd been talking for several minutes about how the Enterprise had come to Lucas's time.  Data was intrigued with how well the young man seemed to be taking all of this in.  No panic, no fear; just pure scientific curiosity.  It was a quality Data didn't find in too many young people.

"So, you're saying that I'm responsible for your creation?" Lucas asked.  He'd long since changed clothes and cleaned himself up.  His hair was still wet from the shower he'd taken and he dabbed it with the damp towel hanging around his neck.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Data replied.  "The innovations you brought to the realm of artificial intelligence, which in your time was virtually non-existent, directly led to my creation.  My creator – or father, if you will – was a student of your philosophies.  In fact, we found evidence of your influence in his personal journals."

"Then I'm like your great-grandfather?"

Data cocked his head.  "Actually, that would be more like your great-great-great-great…"

"I get the point, Data," Lucas interrupted.  He stood from the biobed and began to explore sickbay.  "Why me, though?  I mean, I guess I understand how this guy could have traced this back to me, but surely there others in those thirty-five years after my death that mad advances on my work.  And what about the people who might have been competing with me while I was still alive?"

"Actually, there were many others who would have taken your place had you not been there.  Whether or not it would have produced a different outcome will never be known."  Data stopped, trying to assess Lucas's reaction.  The young boy simply stared back at him, engrossed in all he had to say.  "It is not easy for me to understand the need for revenge.  I am incapable of feeling anything, as I was not programmed with emotions."

"That makes you a better man than any of us."

"Why do you say that, Lucas?"

"Emotions just get in the way, Data.  They cloud our judgment, make us do things, like getting back at someone, that we wouldn't ordinarily do.  I'd love to be in your shoes."

"Many people have said those same words to me," Data began, "but I must ask if you truly understand what you would be missing.  There is a good and bad side to everything.  Imagine if you never felt happy or sad.  What would a surprise be without that moment of excitement?  What if you had never felt a mother's love?"

Lucas stopped circling and stared at the android.  Data noticed that his expression had immediately changed.  He no longer looked like a child on the verge of a new discovery.  He was sad.  "Yean," Lucas replied with a whisper, "I guess you're right."

"Are you alright, Lucas?  Did I say something wrong?"

Lucas wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his borrowed jumpsuit.  "No," he finally managed to say, "not really."  He was desperately trying to hide the pain he felt.  "It's just that my Mom died a few months ago.  I guess I'm not over it yet."

"I am sorry, Lucas," Data said.  "I did not know."

"That's okay," he replied with a sniffle.  "You see what I mean?  Emotions just get in the way."

Data opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Dr. Crusher rushing in with Wesley.  "Data," the Doctor began, "I just spoke with Lt. Worf.  We need to get Lucas out of here.  Dylan McShayne has escaped from the holodeck."

Standing inside a turbolift on his way to deck twelve, Dylan was surprise at how easy it had been to escape from the Enterprise's security team.  He'd simply waited for the right moment.  The guard at the door had proven an easy target.  Now, Dylan was armed with one of their weapons.

He'd heard talk from the team about Lucas being in a place called sickbay.  Dylan had managed to get the directions, albeit at gunpoint, from the frightened ensign who was unfortunate enough to run into him as he made his way down the corridor.

Things were proceeding smoothly.  If it hadn't been for the all-important matter of getting him here, Dylan realized that he wouldn't have needed Q's help at all.  He was making it okay on his own.  Q had promised no interference, and so far had kept his end of the bargain.  Of course, he had to hurry.  It wouldn't be long before the security team discovered their fallen comrade.

The gentle hum of the turbolift ceased and its door opened.  Dylan cautiously stepped into the corridor and looked both ways.

Good, nobody to get in my way.  This is too easy!

Turning to the right, he made his way down the corridor.  According to his so far perfect directions, sickbay should be just a few doors down on his left.  It was.  Dylan took a deep breath.  He realized for the first time during his stay here that he was scared.  He didn't know why the fear had waited until now.  He'd had plenty of opportunities before this particular moment to be frightened.

Fear can be your ally.  Use it to your advantage.

Dylan readied his phaser, took another deep breath, and turned toward the sickbay door.

A loud siren shattered the silence.  It was followed by an automated voice.  "Intruder alert on deck twelve!  Intruder alert on deck twelve!"

Dylan jumped as his heart skipped a beat.  They had obviously found their missing man.  He had to act now.  A group of security men were rounding the corner.  The door to sickbay opened revealing five frantic people trying to leave, one of which was Lucas Wolenczak.  Quicker than lightning, Dylan grabbed Lucas and held the phaser to the boy's head.

"Nobody move!" Dylan screamed, pushing his way into sickbay.  "Alright, everyone, inside!  Now!"

Dr. Crusher, Wesley, and Data did as they were told.

"You…golden boy," Dylan barked at Data, "lock that door."

Data activated the lock command for the sickbay entrance and then turned toward his captor.  "It is only fair to warn you that what you are doing is punishable by Federation law.  Please put down the weapon and submit to our authority."

Dylan laughed.  "And just who do you think you are?  You're not even real!"

"Real in the sense that I am not human?"

"Yeah, whatever.  Now just shut up so I can take care of my business."

"Dr. Crusher activated her comm badge.  "Dr. Crusher to security.  We have a hostage situation in sickbay."

Throwing Lucas to the floor, Dylan McShayne stepped up to the Doctor and ripped the badge off her uniform.  He followed that with a slap.  "Keep quiet, Doc."  Turning to Data, he said, "Yours, too, golden boy."

Data obediently removed the badge and placed it in Dylan's hand.

"What are you anyway, boy?"

"I am an android, built to imitate humans almost perfectly."

"Heh," Dylan responded.  "In my day, robots like you are killers."  He pointed to Lucas.  "Killers created by this monster."

"Take a look at you," Lucas began, "and take a look at me.  And then tell me who the monster is."

"I should've killed you when I had the chance."  Dylan grabbed a handful of Lucas's hair and jerked him up.  "All robots kill…thanks to this little genius, but I'm going to make sure he never gets the opportunity."

Six sparkling figures appeared on the pad of transporter room three.  Chief O'Brien boosted the power to the molecular regeneration controls and watched as the golden particles dissipated.  He'd done it over a thousand times before, and it still amazed him.

"Welcome back, Captain," he said.

"Thank you, Chief," Picard said, stepping off the platform.  He motioned for his guests, who seemed to be in minor shock, to do the same.

"Wow," was all that Commander Ford could say, "we've got to get us one of those!"

"What's our status, Chief?" Riker asked.

"Lt. Worf in on his way to brief…"

The Klingon security officer rushed through the entrance before O'Brien could finish.  Dr. Westphalen let out a loud gasp as she moved behind Bridger, who along with Ford, simply stared.

"You'll have to forgive them, Mr. Worf," Picard began.  It's a safe bet they've never seen a Klingon."  He turned.  "Worf, this is Captain Bridger, Commander Ford, and Dr. Westphalen from the seaQuest."

Worf simply nodded, business as usual.  "Captain, Dylan McShayne has taken four hostages and is holding up inside sickbay."

"Who’s with him?" Riker asked.

"Dr. Crusher, Wesley, Data, and Lucas Wolenczak."

"Security?" Picard asked.

"Deck twelve is entirely sealed off," Worf said, leading them into the corridor.

"Do you have a plan, Mr. Worf?" inquired Riker.

"No, sir, not yet.  We were waiting for your arrival before discussing our options."

They stepped into the turbolift.  "Sickbay," Picard said.  "And just what are our options?"

"We could override the lock code on the sickbay door and take him by surprise."

Picard shook his head.  "No, he'll hurt someone if he feels threatened.  What else?"

"What about negotiations?" Bridger asked.

Troi interjected.  "I sense that Dylan doesn't want to hurt anyone.  He's angry and he's frightened.  Talking with him would be the best solution."

The turbolift slowed to a halt and its doors opened onto deck twelve.  Its occupants stepped out into a sea of security people.

"I agree," Picard said.  "Let's just hope he'll listen."

Data knew his best chance of saving Lucas was trying to talk to McShayne.  Dylan, however, did not seem the least bit interested in listening to him.  Something had to be done, Data realized.  It couldn't hurt to at least try.

"Mr. McShayne, what do you hope to accomplish by killing Lucas?"

"Well, you see, golden boy…"

"My name is Data."

Dylan stopped and stared at the android for a moment, trying to decide if he should be angry.  It wouldn't hurt to humor him a little.  "Sorry.  You see, Data, Lucas here started a chain of events that led to the death of someone I loved, and I can't let him get away with that."

Data stood and approached McShayne slowly.  "What if I told you that killing him would only open the door for others to do the same thing?"

Dylan thought for a moment.  "You're lying."

"My programming prohibits me from telling a lie."

"He's right," Wesley said.  "Lucas wasn't the only one doing experiments in artificial intelligence."

"Marcus Fetzek," Data said.  "Tim Ceraolo.  Anthony Pruitt."

"Who are they?" Dylan asked.  "I've never heard of them."

"I am not surprised," Data replied.  "They all abandoned their research into artificial intelligence after Lucas made his breakthrough.  Therefore, if you kill Lucas then you will have to kill them, too."

No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity.  Dylan considered the android's words.  Perhaps he did have a point.  It was true that Dylan couldn't go gallivanting across time finding and killing all these people.  He'd been lucky enough to find one of them.  He wasn't even sure Q would continue to help him.  Lucas was here, however, directly in front of him.  That had to be worth something."

"That's just a chance I'll have to take," he said.

"But what about you, Dylan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Even if you do kill Lucas, there is a slim chance you will survive."

"I thought you weren't programmed to kill."

"You are correct," Data answered, "but there are over one thousand people aboard the Enterprise, and over two hundred aboard the seaQuest.  They are all fighting for Lucas's safety.  Out of all of them, I am the only android – the only one not programmed to kill."

"He's talking about your future, Dylan," Lucas said.

"What about it"

"I did some research," Data said.  "According to our records, the grief over the death of your fiancée was so great that you set out to make changes in the way artificial intelligence would be controlled and implemented."

"You bombarded what was left of the government for radical reform," Wesley added.  "Legislation ordering the deactivation of the Underground system was enacted solely because of your efforts."

"You became a hero," Data said, "and you met another woman, with whom you married and started a family.  Good things come out of life's most tragic events, Dylan.  Surely you do not want to throw that all away."

"But how do I know you're telling the truth"

"As I said before, I am incapable of telling a lie, but it is also a matter of historical record."

"What if it is?" Dylan screamed.  "You tell me how I'm supposed to forgive her death?"

An unfamiliar voice suddenly broke in.  "We've all lost someone important to us, son."

Dylan turned to find two older men standing at the sickbay entrance.  "Who are you?"

Lucas peered from behind Dylan and smiled.  "Captain!"

"Hello, Lucas," Bridger said, turning to Dylan.  "My name is Nathan Bridger, Captain of the seaQuest."

"And I am Captain Picard, of the Enterprise."

Dylan was embarrassed that he'd let these two get in without him knowing.  He was beginning to lose control of the situation, which made him angry.

"What do you want?" he shouted.

"Relax, Dylan," Bridger said, "we're not here to hurt you.  We just want to talk."
Q appeared with his customary theatrics.  "Ahh, the plot thickens!"  A bag of popcorn suddenly materialized and he munched on the snack loudly.

"Shut up, Q!" Picard said angrily.  "Why don't you stop this charade right now!"

"But I cannot, Jean-Luc," Q replied.  "The choice is up to Mr. McShayne.  I promised that I would stay out of it."

"Talk about what?" Dylan asked, not fazed by Q's entrance.

"About you, Dylan," Bridger replied.  "About what you're going through."

"How would any of you know what I'm going though?"

Wesley stepped forward, putting his arm around his mother.  "Because we lost a father and a husband."

"I've already told you, Dylan, I lost my mother not too long ago," Lucas added.

"And I," Bridger began, "lost my wife and son."

Picard slowly advanced toward Dylan.  "The pain you're feeling, Dylan, is very normal.  You just have to learn to control it."

Dylan exchanged a glance with each person in the room, saying nothing.

"Lucas is one of the few things I have left, Dylan," Bridger said.  "Please don't take him away from me.  He's helped stop my pain, just as you'll find something to stop yours."

Behind Bridger and Picard, unseen by Dylan McShayne, a few security men had managed to make their way into the room.  They crouched down with their phasers drawn, waiting for an opportunity.

Dylan was crying now.  "She was my whole world.  How am I supposed to forget her?"

"You don't have to forget her, Dylan" Picard said.  "Her memory will be with you always."

"Memory?"

"Yes, Dylan, Jade will live on in the memories you have of her."

"I don't want memories, you fool!  I want her!"

"Nothing can bring her back."  Picard could feel the man's intense pain.  "She's dead now."

Dylan shook his head.  "But I saw her…a little while ago.  I saw her on this ship."

"No, Dylan," Wesley said, "that was just a hologram.  She wasn't real."

"But I saw her!"

Picard stepped closer this time.  "You were on our holodeck.  What you saw was a holographic image of Jade, generated by our computer."

"No!" Dylan screamed.

Bridger wasn't sure what to do next.  "Please, Dylan, don't do this."

Dylan raised his phaser, pointed it toward Lucas, and fired.  Immediately, Data reacted, jumping in front of Lucas, taking the phaser blast in the chest.

"Stop, Data!" Lucas screamed, knowing it was too late.  "No!"

The android landed with a thud in front of Dr. Crusher, who immediately crouched down to help. 

In the next instant, another phaser blast, originating from somewhere behind Picard, struck Dylan McShayne in the back.  He fell hard to the floor.  The security men rushed forward and picked up the body.

Lt. Worf rushed in and ordered his security men to take McShayne to a holding cell.  He then approached both captains, who still weren't exactly sure what had happened.  "Are you alright?"

"We're fine, Mr. Worf," Picard replied.  "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you."  Bridger walked over and knelt down next to Lucas, who was caught up in what was happening to Data.  "Lucas, are you alright?"

Lucas ignored Bridger's inquiry and looked Data in the eye.  The android was still awake, but seemed disoriented.  "Data," Lucas said, why did you do that?  Why did you save me?"

The android was silent for several seconds before he raised his head and met Lucas's gaze.  "I am programmed to preserve human life at any cost."  His head lowered and his eyes closed.

"What happened?" Lucas said frantically.  "Is he dead?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Lucas," Dr. Crusher said.  "Data is designed to withstand a lot more than a phaser blast."

"Come on, Lucas," Bridger said.  "Let the doctor do her job."

He didn't want to leave the newfound friend that had saved his life, but finally Lucas gave in to Bridger's suggestion and left sickbay behind.


Picard watched as Lucas reunited with his crewmates in the corridor.  He motioned for Riker and Troi to join him.

"What happened?" Riker asked.

"Mr. Data made the ultimate sacrifice, Number One," Picard responded.  "He saved Lucas's life."  He turned to Dr. Crusher.  "Is he going to be alright, Beverly?"

"He'll be fine, but I'll need Geordi's help.  He knows more about Data's insides than I'll ever know."

"What are we going to do about him?" Riker asked, pointing at Q, who stood watching the chaos, still munching his popcorn.

"Interesting question, Will."  Picard looked over their nemesis as he thought about what should be done.  "As much as I hate to admit it, we need him.  He still has to straighten out this mess.  Maybe this time he'll cooperate."

Riker watched as the Captain approached Q and escorted him through the sickbay door. 


In the Observation Lounge of the Enterprise, Picard was about to speak to the small audience that had gathered.  Seated to his left were Riker, Troi, LaForge, and Dr. Crusher.  All four visitors from the seaQuest were seated to his right.  Q was seated opposite Picard at the other end of the table.

Picard knew the ordeal wouldn't be over until his guests had all returned home, including, and especially Q.  That is, if he had a home.  The Captain just hoped the proverbial "thorn-in-his-side" would not give him any trouble.

"As much as we've enjoyed this little adventure, Q, now that it's over, we'd like to go home."  He took a deep breath, knowing the next part was going to hurt.  "And we can't do that without you."

Q smiled.  "You know, Jean-Luc, it wasn't so long ago that you would rather have died than speak those words to me.  I'm impressed, Picard.  Not only by you, but how you all handled yourselves today.  Bravo!"  He clapped.  "And to show my appreciation, I'll do as you ask with no argument."

That took Riker by surprise.  "Thank you, Q."

Q nodded graciously.

"What will happen to Dylan McShayne?" Bridger asked.

"I will return him to his own time," Q replied, "where he will live out the rest of his life, just as history records it – the same with all of you.  You'll be allowed to pick up where you left off, as if nothing had ever happened."

"They won't remember a thing?" Riker asked.

"Exactly as it should be, don't you think?"

Riker nodded.

"Well, then," Bridger began, "we should be heading back.  My crew's probably climbing the walls by now."

"Captain Picard," Lucas said quietly.  He'd been silent up to now.  "If it's okay with you, I'd like to say goodbye to Lt. Commander Data."

All eyes fell upon Picard, who smiled.  "I think that can be arranged."  He looked to Q.  "Would you give us an hour?"

"Of course, Picard.  Anything for this remarkable young man."  He stood.  "You have them back on their ship in an hour, Jean-Luc, I'll do the rest."  He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Bridger chuckled.  "My, he certainly knows how to get your attention, doesn't he?"

Everyone laughed.

"Mr. LaForge," Picard said as he stood, "would you be so kind as to escort Mr. Wolenczak to Data's quarters?"

LaForge grinned.  "Certainly, sir.  Come on, Lucas."

Picard turned and put his hand on Bridger's shoulder.  "As for you, Nathan, I'd like nothing more than to give you a tour of my ship.  Will you join me?"

"I'd be honored, Jean-Luc."

Just as Dr. Crusher had promised, Data was doing fine.  With a little help from Geordi, his positronic net had been realigned and he was functioning perfectly.  The Captain had ordered him to get some rest and he was enjoying a good book in his quarters when he heard the door chime sound.

"Come in," he responded.

Data watched as the door opened and Geordi and Lucas stepped inside.  "Lucas just wanted to say goodbye, Data."

"Thank you, Geordi," Data replied.  "Please, Lucas, sit down."

"I'll be back later, Lucas," said LaForge.

Lucas sat down on a big, comfortable couch and clasped his hands together.  He was wearing his own clothes no, which were clean and fresh.  A little nervous, he ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.  "What'cha readin'?" he finally managed to ask.

Data closed the book and held it up for his new friend to see.  "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea."

"Ahh, Jules Verne, huh?" Lucas said.  "I like Jules Verne."

"I have never been on a submarine.  I thought this might help me to understand your world better."

Lucas laughed.  "I doubt my world is as exciting as that book."  He squirmed a little, trying to get comfortable, not knowing what to say.  "I wanted the opportunity to thank you, Data, for saving my life."

"It was the least I could do for you, Lucas.  After all, if it was not for you, I would not be here."

Lucas shook his head.  "I don't about all that stuff, but you didn't have to do it.  Why did you do it, Data?"

"I am programmed to preserve…"

"Come on, Data, tell me why you did it."

"Putting the other factors I have already mentioned aside, I did it because someone once sacrificed a great deal to spare my life.  I felt it was my turn to do the same.  I have lived a long life - you have not.  You deserve the opportunity to explore your world, to learn new things.  You deserve a long life, too, Lucas.  I want you to have that."

"Oh," Lucas responded.  After a few seconds, he added, "They say I won't remember any of this.  Is that true?"

"I am afraid so.  It is dangerous for you to know too much about your future.  We cannot risk any changes that might occur as a result."

"But what if I want to change something?"

"What do you mean?"

Lucas stood and walked over to the window.  "I hate knowing that something I did affected so many lives, Data.  How can I live with that?"

"First of all, Lucas, you said so yourself: you will not remember anything about your future.  Secondly, it was unfair for Dylan McShayne to blame you for the death of his fiancée.  An inventor cannot be blamed for the misuse of his creation.

"You, Lucas Wolenczak, were destined to do the work you have chosen to do.  Do not be afraid of the future.  Captain Picard once told me that if you do what you feel is right, then everything else will take care of itself."

Lucas turned from the window and smiled.  "You really think so, Data?"

"Yes, Lucas, I do."

"Thanks, Data."  Lucas returned to his seat on the couch.  "Now as long as I'm going to forget it anyway, tell me more about my future."

Picard had seen many visitors leave the Enterprise via transporter room three, but he couldn't remember a time when he was more sorry to see them go.  The hour had passed quickly, and now he was responsible for returning his visitors to their vessel.  He knew they were anxious to get home, but the selfish part of him wanted them to stay.

"You have lovely ship, Jean-Luc," Bridger said.  "Thank you for your hospitality, and for taking such good care of Lucas."

"You're quite welcome, Nathan," Picard responded warmly.  "I only with your visit had been under better circumstances."

"Me, too," Bridger smiled and extended his hand.

Picard accepted.  "Godspeed, Nathan."

Commander Ford was next in line.  "Please forgive me for misjudging you, Captain.  I was wrong."

"I understand, Commander," Picard replied.  "You had the best interest of your ship and your Captain in mind.  That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thank you, sir," Ford said, shaking hands with Picard.

"You've got a lot of work to do, young man," Picard said as Lucas stepped up to him.

The young boy offered a crooked grin.  "I sure do…thanks to you, Captain."  He gave Picard a firm handshake and another smile.  "Goodbye, sir."

Lucas turned and looked up to see his new friend.  "Well, Data, I guess this is it," he said quietly.

The android nodded.

"Thanks again for, you know, saving my life."

"You are welcome," Data responded.  "Goodbye, Lucas."

Lucas held out his hand and Data responded.  The young boy looked up once more and smiled.  "Goodbye."

Lucas turned to join his fellow crewmates on the transporter pad.  Standing next to Bridger, he called out, "Hey, Data?"

The android cocked his head.

"No matter what Q does," Lucas began, "I'll find a way to remember you somehow."

Data didn't speak for a few seconds.  He finally responded, "I would like that."

Picard smiled.  "Are you ready, Nathan?"

Bridger nodded and waved.

"Mr. O'Brien," Picard began, "energize."

It's been one of those days, Lucas thought as he stepped out of the Mag-Lev at Seadeck 4.

Of course, the day was only a few hours old, but to Lucas it seemed like an eternity.  He'd woke up late, which had been bad enough.  Most people, Lucas included, could handle one catastrophe in the morning.  You almost expected something to go wrong.  But he was also late for the senior staff meeting.  Besides the fact, that he had a haunting suspicion that he'd gone through all this before.

"This day can't get much worse," Lucas said as he approached the door to the Seadeck.  He turned the knob and slowly pushed forward.  A gentle shush sounded that signified the airtight seal had been broken.

Captain Bridger, Commander Ford, and twenty or thirty others stood by the moonpool with big smiles on their faces.  Behind them, hanging above the pool, was a large sign that loudly proclaimed, "Happy Birthday, Lucas!"

Everyone screamed, "Surprise!  Happy Birthday!"

"This is great," Lucas said, stepping inside, again feeling that this had all happened just a few hours ago.  "I didn't think anyone remembered."

Captain Bridger approached him.  "Happy Birthday, Lucas.  Best wishes for the future."

Lucas stopped and stared at the Captain for a split-second, silent.

"Are you okay, Lucas?"

"Yeah," Lucas said with a smile.  "You know, I have the strangest feeling that I've seen the future, Captain, and it looks pretty good."

Bridger smiled and playfully slapped him on the back as Chief Crocker and Ensign Davis wheeled out a cake while singing the birthday song.

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