Halsey watched from behind the secure glass. A body that resembled the man known as Ambrose Harris lay on a bed in the quarantine room, strapped gently to the gurney.  He’d ordered Jordan Reid out and into the corridor for now.  He tapped at the console on the glass, the sensors in the room activating.  Leopold set several tasks in motion as equipment slid down from the ceiling.  The standard readings were confusing.  There was a heartbeat, and breathing was occurring.  The scans on brain activity and the other bodily systems were not as encouraging.  It was as if a switch hadn’t been turned on.  He watched as the scans began, turning to the Chief Science Officer, who stood just behind him.  “You okay?”

She was chewing on her bottom lip, her hands at her side restlessly twitching.   The man on the table was Captain Harris to her – it was his face, and his body – bedraggled as it was, was still his.  She had dismissed his suggestion of her remaining outside while he worked.  She was the head of the science department and could not ignore the situation at hand.  Halsey was the former chief medical officer and had used his station to keep Reid out.  “It’s not easy, sir.”  She stepped forward and hesitantly began to manipulate the science systems on the glass, “Initial readings are coming back with a preliminary confirmation on DNA readings – it is Captain Harris.”  As Fowler worked, her courage returned, and her hands moved more confidently.  She paused as a reading appeared on the glass, a red outline beeping in alarm.  “That’s…Captain?”

Halsey was drawn to the new information on the glass, his eyes widening in disbelief. “That’s another set of DNA intertwined with Harris’s.  Or at least trace amounts.  The computer is struggling to differentiate between Harris and this other thing.”  He tapped at the glass, summoning additional devices to aid their investigation.  They went to work, and he turned his attention to the body, “You have any theories? Now is the time to share them.”

Sadie crossed her arms, uncomfortable with what was running through her mind.  “There’s been some incidents where once dead bodies were brought back – various methods that either destroyed the maker or the device.  And he’s not a synthetic body with a human consciousness.”  She pointed to the readings that continued to update, “The old saying, ‘necessity is the mother of invention,’ fits Pandora – her needs to get to us or find a way to get to us would have led her down some paths we’d never consider. Captain Harris had plenty of knowledge of the original crew and how Starfleet works.”

Leo scoffed, “So she went the Locutus route.  Clever girl.”  Another red-outlined message and alarm chirped on his medical section of the glass, and he stepped over to look.  “This might explain part of it – at least…three shunts in his brain.  They’re all connected to the parts that govern speech, consciousness, and movement.  No, five shunts.”  He waited until the computer completed the in-depth scan of the head, and it moved on down the body.  “She wasn’t clean, clinical, or anywhere near the level I would see in a professional medical operator.  This is blunt work – obtuse at best.”

Fowler felt her heart sink at the realization, “She didn’t care how she did it.  She didn’t care what it would do to him.  All she cared about was finding a way to hurt us.”  Sadie was thankful Halsey had kept Reid outside.  This was hard for her.  She couldn’t imagine what Jordan’s reaction would have been. Her mind worked through the events of the last few hours. “How did he get into the hands of the Poly?”

Halsey tapped his glass, bringing up a star system map, “Captain Jamison Wells was not very forthcoming about the how or the why – but we were able to use some sensor buoys in the Alpha and the Gamma to put together some history.”  A line began to trace the partial history of the Poly as the XO narrated, “When Pandora bugged out, it appeared she was caught in the middle of trying to finish this process.  As far as the reports and scattered intel reports can tell, Wells was a part of her crew, and she had to move quickly.  If we had made it aboard his ship, we probably would have found a specialized medical bay keeping her prize safe and stable.”  He added several additional ship signals that traced more halfway-constructed lines, “We didn’t know where she went because she used to the wormhole.  I’m guessing she went ahead to prepare whatever base she’s managed to cobble together out here, leaving the Poly to catch up.  Wells appears not to have confidence in her plan, so he decided to try and sell the alive and dead body to the highest bidder.”  He gestured to the body behind the thick glass, “That bidding process led us here.”  There was a shuddering noise as the ongoing attack played out above them, “That’s two very angry Klingon crews out there…and their prize is lying here.”

Fowler thought long and hard as another round of weapon impacts resounded through the hull.  “Will we remove the shunts and wake him up?”  She shuddered at the idea.  This situation unsettled her at every discovery they made.  The path Pandora Crawford had taken since crashing into their reality back in the Dominion War years had been bloody and brutal, with no signs that she would slow down or stop.  She felt as if they had or would soon all come to terms with the maniac that remained just out of reach, haunting and hunting them.

He didn’t have a direct answer.  His mind was awash in the issues from both a medical and ethical perspective.  “I’d be more worried if this was her plan all along – go get him onboard, we unlock him, and he proceeds to complete her mission…or ensure the way is clear for her.”  He shook his head, “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – she’s a clever girl – sowing doubt and fear every step of the way.”  He turned to the door, “We’re going to have to let Reid in eventually, aren’t we.”  Fowler nodded solemnly.