The atmosphere in sickbay was thick with tension, laden with the relentless hum of medical instruments striving to analyse a condition they could scarcely comprehend. Bennet lay on the biobed, his form barely tethered to reality. He appeared almost ethereal, flickering in and out of existence like a faulty hologram. His skin shimmered with an unnatural, iridescent glow, casting strange reflections on the sterile surfaces around him. Each distortion of his body suggested a struggle against the very fabric of reality as if he were caught in a cosmic tug-of-war. His breaths were shallow and ragged, each inhalation a desperate plea to remain anchored to this world—a fragile tether threatening to snap at any moment. The medical staff moved with urgency, glancing at their instruments, their faces etched with concern as they attempted to comprehend the enigma that was Bennet.

Patterson sat beside him, gripping his hand tightly. She could feel the faintest warmth beneath her fingers, yet he felt insubstantial, as though he might slip away at any moment. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

The sickbay doors hissed open swiftly, parting with a pneumatic sigh that echoed in the sterile confines of the medical bay. Johren, Alesyo, and Chaoi rushed inside, their uniforms—once crisp and neatly pressed—now marred by a fine layer of dust and debris from the crumbling Nacene ruins they had explored. Shadows danced across their faces, illuminated only by the flickering overhead lights, revealing tense expressions that betrayed the weight of their recent ordeal. Yet amidst the exhaustion and apprehension, a flicker of hope sparkled in their eyes, suggesting that their mission might not have been in vain after all.

“We’ve found something,” Johren declared, panting yet determined. He held up a data module, its surface scratched from the rugged terrain. “A containment field modified from Nacene technology. It’s based on the technology they used on the planet’s civilisation to turn them into possible compatible mates. We think we can reverse engineer it, and it could stabilise the captain.”

Rarta snapped to attention, his bronze Risan skin glistening under the medical bay’s sterile light. “How soon can we adapt it?”

“We’re already working on it,” Alesyo said, moving swiftly to the main medical console. “It’s not perfect, but it’s our best shot.”

Chaoi pulled out a tricorder, her hands moving quickly across its interface. “We need to integrate this into the Destiny’s deflector harmonics. It’s the only way to generate the necessary quantum stabilisation.”

Rarta nodded sharply. “Then let’s get to work.”

As they hurried to configure the containment field, Patterson returned to Bennet. His breathing was growing more erratic, his eyes distant, but for a fleeting moment, they locked onto hers. A tiny flicker of awareness remained. She squeezed his hand, leaning closer.

“Stay with me, Zack,” she urged through a whisper. “Hold on to what makes you you.”

His form flickered, his edges blurring like a ghost caught in the light. He didn’t respond, but she pressed forward, desperate to keep him tethered.

“Remember when we came back to the Destiny? You and I had met for coffee, and I had shared with you the news about the Destiny. I barely convinced you to take that trip to Avalon.”

USS Destiny (NCC-92600) Avalon Fleet Yards, Avalon System

Stardate: 78329.93 (May 1st, 2401)

The USS Destiny sat in dry dock, her once-proud hull gleaming under the artificial lighting of Avalon Fleet Yards. Patterson and Bennet stood at the airlock, staring at the ship that had once been their home.

Two years. 

Two years since the ship had been their home for seven years.

Since then, it lost its crew during the Borg attack on Frontier Day and had become nothing more than a graveyard among the stars. Its younger crewmembers were transformed into Borg drones and turned against their senior officers. To prevent them from taking complete control of the ship, the senior crew destroyed the vessel’s life support and engaged one another in close-quarter battles, attempting to gain the upper hand. It ended with them killing one another. It became one of the many sorrowful tales that emerged from Frontier Day. 

Destiny lay empty, and no one wanted to take its reigns. The weight of its tragic history hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the crew’s sacrifice and the betrayal they endured. 

Bennet hesitated at the threshold, his fingers grazing the bulkhead. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight.

“I never thought I’d see her again,” he admitted quietly, his voice rough with unspoken grief.

Patterson smiled softly though her own emotions churned beneath the surface. “Then let’s make sure this isn’t goodbye.”

They stepped inside, the corridors eerily empty. It was the same ship, but it wasn’t. The usual hum of life—footsteps, voices, the occasional burst of laughter—was missing.

As they reached the bridge, the doors parted with a familiar hiss. Patterson exhaled sharply as they stepped onto the command deck. The sight took Bennet’s breath away. The command chairs, consoles, and massive viewscreen felt frozen in time as though waiting for them to return. The ghost of past missions seemed to linger in the air.

Patterson moved to her old station and ran her fingers across the console. A fine layer of dust coated the surface, yet the ship was still alive beneath it. 

Waiting.

“Feels like home, doesn’t it?” she murmured, looking over at Bennet.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow, measured step toward the captain’s chair. He ran his fingers along the armrest, the familiar grooves worn smooth from years of use. His fingers tightened slightly as he exhaled.

The weight of his past captivity, the betrayal by the changeling imposter who had taken his place, momentarily lifted. For the first time in months, he felt something solid beneath his feet.

He turned to Patterson, determination settling in his eyes. “I’m putting in a request to Starfleet. If they’ll have us. I want us back here.”

Patterson grinned, her expression triumphant. “Good. Because I was never going to let you say no.”

USS Destiny (NCC-92600), Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant

Present Day

Bennet’s flickering slowed momentarily, his gaze focusing on her as though drawn back by the memory. His lips parted, his voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Tears stung Patterson’s eyes. She tightened her grip on his hand. “Then don’t.”

“Containment field ready!” Rarta called out, his voice urgent.

Alesyo keyed in the final command, her hands flying over the console. “Activating now!”

A pulse of energy surged through the ship. The containment field flickered to life, surrounding Bennet with a web of crackling energy.

He screamed. 

His body stretched and distorted…