Ensign Theodore Marick’s eyelids were heavier than a neutron star, but despite that, he fought to raise them with every fiber of his being. His heart was beating clearer than ever before. A soft, rhythmic thumping defined by the alternating sound of systolic and diastolic action.

“Lieutenant Kincaid, this is most curious. What say you, Captain?”
Was that the voice of Lieutenant Commander Valerius?

“Curious indeed. He had come to my quarters to speak with me. He sounded deeply troubled. I was reading, facing the viewport. I swiveled the chair around, and there he stood. He paused for a moment and then bolted out of the door. I had presumed he would return here.”
That was definitely the Captain…

Theo’s eyelids receded slowly. His vision was blurred, but the image of his girlfriend, Tiffany Kincaid appeared before him. She was kneeling above him. Each breath felt so labored, but its difficulty lessened with each subsequent iteration. Her silhouette was backlit by the ceiling lights above, but it was unmistakably hers. However, as his eyes had begun to regain their focus, the memories returned as tide gently lapped at the shore.

“Theo?”
Tiffany’s soft inflection was an anchor, tethering him back. The tide grew larger, the waves amassing in size – teasing with the notion of crashing. The young ensign’s chest heaved upward as a great breath drew in through his nose, the crisp feel of the cool air stinging his sinuses as it billowed in.
Theo shot upright. Get up!

He felt Tiffany’s firm grasp on his bicep, steadying him…calming him. Captain O’va was a pace or two back, standing to his side, with her left elbow resting upon her right palm, and her left hand upon her chin. Lieutenant Commander Valerius, Solvang’s Security Chief, flanked her, with arms akimbo. His hand was not far from the phaser fastened to his belt.

“Tiff, you…you’re all…”

“Different. Yes, we know. As are you, Ensign Theodore Marick. It seems you are one of the Displaced that we were briefed about. Were you similarly briefed in your reality?” Even in this universe, Captain O’va was the embodiment of calm, sensible logic – unless the situation dictated otherwise. Thankfully, this situation did not merit the exception to that demeanor.

“Yes sir…I was briefed. And yes, I was Displaced. I am Displaced. Twice now, apparently.” Theo ran his fingers through his hair and let out a soft nervous chuckle. The gravity of his current situation had only begun to dawn upon him.

“Ensign Marick, I will be blunt about this – you look like one of our drawings that has come to life.” The Romulan’s words lingered, as if they were daggers suspended from the ceiling, hanging on by a thread. He handed Theo a picture frame that the ensign had apparently missed upon his first time in the room. Lo and behold, there upon the frame was, to Theo, a normal photograph. Huh…Tiffany and I have the same photograph in our quarters, but ours was taken with a filter. That was right after we discussed living together when we boarded. It was at The Sulais. She was reading me Romulan poetry that Sulais himself had taught her. I couldn’t remember a single line of it if anyone asked, but I could describe everything about how her eyes glistened like stars, how her face lit up the room when she smiled…

Theo righted himself up off the floor of his multiversal counterpart’s quarters.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“Tiff and I, well we took this same photo aboard Starbase 93, right before we boarded the Solvang together. Except we used a filter to make ourselves look like…well…you.”

The captain raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating. You were Displaced twice?”

Tiffany silently gestured for them all to have a seat at the dining table in their quarters. Even amidst everything going on, her well-mannered attitude still glistened.

“Oh yes, please have a seat. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir. The first time, Doc Miller and I ended up aboard a Solvang where the Tholians were attacking. I’m not sure if I should continue…it involves another version of you.” Theo hesitated.

“Please continue, Ensign.”

He studied her features. It was more difficult to read the Captain, since the finer features of her face were smoothed out by its felted composition. She was already difficult enough to read at times, in his own reality. Solvang’s crew had not been together for long, but her half-Vulcan nature meant that it would take a keen eye.

“Well…there was thick carpet everywhere. Boots in alcoves in the hallway. And there you were. Well, a version of you. Different uniform – a long coat. You…she handed me a pistol and told me to grab the Doc and head for the Lilypad’s shuttlebay. Doc was unconscious. This pistol.”

Theo slowly retrieved the 21^st-century pistol from his waistband and laid it on the table. “She said to show this to my captain, she’ll know what it means. Remember us. That was what she said. She held off the Tholians long enough for us to make it to the shuttle.”

O’va picked up the pistol. “My father gave this to me when I was promoted to Captain. It has been passed down for generations. He told me it was customized by our ancestors. It was a marvel for its time. He said it was a Wilcox Nightstalker. Evidently, it was a Sig Sauer P229 that was modified to have an early version of an integrated laser aiming device, with activation buttons on the side of the grip, wiring throughout the slide, and an emitter within an attachment at the muzzle. This one was chambered in a higher caliber, intended for higher kinetic energy.”

She pressed one of the buttons, and a small pulsating red dot appeared on the far side of the room.

“I had modified mine with a modern power source and loaded custom neutronium-core ammunition for it. It seems she did too. I would not have given this up unless I knew I…” the half-Vulcan trailed off. In the corner of her eye, Theo swore he saw something glistening.

“I don’t know what happened to her, but she was armed to the teeth if it means anything. That pistol saved our lives. But it also took the lives of three Tholians…”

“No, Theo. It did not. You used it to save your lives, also to take the lives of those Tholians.” The drop in formality caught him off guard, but she continued. The tone of her voice was grave, and she let each word linger in the air with careful poise and precision.

“It is just a tool. An instrument that carries neither malice nor benevolence. It carries with it only power, and with that should follow responsibility. In the past, these were often misused, and the tools were blamed for the misdeeds of the villain. We have since moved on from that, as a society. My ancestors passed this (and many others) down, generation to generation – over four hundred years – as a heavy reminder of that.”

“Does that make me the villain?”

“I do not know. There has never been a clear answer to that question. There may never be a clear answer. Only what ifs. But, you are here, and that Solvang is no more. It has ceased to be. We must be cautious in our proceedings going forth from here. Fleet Admiral Ramar’s communique was very clear; we need to avoid confrontation with an even more dangerous threat – the Loom. The Tholians may seek to destroy us because of your presence here, but the Loom…they may seek to erase us entirely.”

“Erase? What do you mean by erase?” A look of terror washed over the young ensign’s face. I’ve already seen how one Solvang held up against the Tholians, and it was horrific. But she mentioned the Loom second. How can anything be worse than destruction?

The Captain cast a glance over at Valerius, followed by a nod of acknowledgment. “Erasure, as in completely removed from existence.” He gestured to the bowl of fruit that was at the center of the table. “This bowl contains two oranges, apples, and bananas, does it not?” He raised his hand, with an empty palm. “These cherries are us, if we do not return you to your reality.”

“There were no cherries in that bowl…” the young Lieutenant trailed off, her soft voice faded.