Can We Save Everyone? – They Were Never Ours to Save – Star Trek Fanfiction (Red Directive #34)
But it didn’t need to.
It lingered—like something leaning just out of sight, waiting to see what we would do next.
No one acknowledged it.
Was I the only one who could hear it?
The projection in the center of Pelia’s quarters shifted again, the lattice tightening as Darak refined the isolation field. Threads of light separated—cleaner now, more defined.
More understandable.
I stepped closer.
“If we isolate that…”
Chief Ren was already staring at the same data I was.
“We create a blind spot.”
Kurn crossed his arms.
“For the station.”
Commander T’Varen inclined her head slightly.
“A localized disruption of its cognitive awareness. Not a full shutdown.”
Commander Pelia exhaled, a half-laugh under her breath.
“And this ‘blind spot’ won’t destabilize the rest of its systems?”
Darak’s fingers continued moving across his PADD.
“That is the intent,” he said. “We are… stepping outside of its perception.”
That landed differently.
An exit.
One that actually felt possible.
I looked at the lattice again.
“If it can’t see us…”
Chief Ren finished it.
“It can’t stop us from leaving.”
Silence.
But this time—
it wasn’t fear.
It was realization.
Kurn cut through it.
“And the colonists?”
There it was.
The question we were all waiting for.
Pelia threw her hands in the air, looking at Darak.
“And what about protecting them from being integrated into the station? How do we even know we won’t suffer systemic failure when we leave? We were exposed the moment we arrived, right?”
Darak exhaled slowly.
“I can get us out of here, but that is all I have with certainty. If we decouple our neural patterns from the station’s processing lattice prior to departure… we should be able to prevent systemic failure.”
“Should?” Commander Pelia leaned back into the couch, shaking her head. “That’s not very reassuring, Lieutenant.”
Lieutenant Darak gave a slight bow, gesturing back to the data.
“In theory, Commander. I believe we do not have many other options.”
Pelia coughed lightly.
“I suppose I’ve made it this long. Not as long as I had planned—but more than most of you will ever experience.”
I stopped studying the projection and turned to her.
“I think this is a solid plan, Commander.”
Kurn’s voice rose again.
“And the colonists?!”
I felt his frustration.
I just didn’t have an answer.
Ensign Jaxa was scanning the data intensely, thinking faster than the rest of us. Then she turned to me.
“What if we just took the colonists with us?”
Failed mission—but everyone alive.
“If that’s possible, it would be better than leaving them here with EOS Prospera.”
Commander Pelia turned back to Darak.
“Can we extend the field? Encompass the colony sectors? Decouple their neural patterns from the processing lattice as well?”
Darak began working rapidly on his PADD. The projection shifted—expanded.
“It is possible in theory. It would not be easy. Commander… this is what we would need to do with adjustments on the USS Cairo and the station to attempt it.”
She studied the data for a moment. Then nodded.
“We can do this. We’ll need a full day—and everyone working against the clock.”
And just like that—
everything seemed like it might work.
We could save ourselves.
And the colony.
Aura’s voice came softly.
“The station will become aware of the disruption.”
I looked at her.
“Then we move faster.”
Before anyone could respond—
The doors to Pelia’s quarters chimed, and the Emergency Medical Hologram rushed in.
Pelia’s eyes narrowed.
“Back so soon?”
The EMH appeared… breathless, or at least convincingly so. Likely intentional.
“I’ve completed the neural pattern analysis on all of the colonists—”
He stopped.
Took in the room.
The projection.
The silence.
“…I see you’ve reached a preliminary conclusion.”
Ren leaned back slightly.
“We believe so. Unless you have a better idea.”
He gestured toward the projection.
The EMH didn’t smile.
“For once, I am fresh out of ideas.”
That was a first and shifted everything.
I stepped forward.
“The isolation field. It will allow us to move without the station tracking us.”
He nodded once.
“That is… accurate.”
“We’ve determined we may be able to do the same for the colonists.”
The EMH studied the projection.
The gaps.
The fragments.
Then looked back at me.
“You are correct in your assessment.”
Relief almost hit—
almost.
“It would have worked.”
Past tense.
The room went still.
Darak’s hands froze.
“…Doctor.”
The EMH didn’t hesitate.
“They are already fully integrated.”
That hit harder than it should have.
Because it contradicted everything we were seeing.
Ren frowned.
“No one has reported colonists disappearing—and they’re clearly here.”
He pointed at the lattice.
“Those are independent signatures.”
The EMH shook his head.
“No. Those are residual echoes—degrading neural impressions left behind by the integration process.”
Silence.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Pelia’s voice dropped.
“…Echoes?”
“Yes.”
No softening.
“No recoverable consciousness remains. The colonists’ neural patterns have been fully distributed across the station’s cognitive framework.”
Kurn’s jaw tightened.
“You’re saying we’re looking at ghosts.”
The EMH met his gaze.
“I am saying you are observing what remains after the mind has been… processed.”
Kurn raised an eyebrow.
“I thought the station integrated all of the Elionvorel through its system?”
The EMH responded matter-of-factly.
“Oh, it will. It is only a matter of time.”
My stomach dropped—and judging by the room, I wasn’t alone.
We were already too late.
I stepped closer to the projection again.
Eyes locked on the lattice.
“How can we be certain it hasn’t done the same to us?”
That pulled everyone back.
Hard.
Darak looked up immediately.
“If full integration has already occurred across the colony—”
T’Varen continued,
“—then there is no structural limitation preventing the same outcome here.”
Ren frowned.
“We’ve been exposed just as long as they were.”
Pelia looked at Aura.
“…So why aren’t we part of that?”
Aura sat perfectly still.
Listening.
Always listening.
“It has attempted integration,” she said.
Then—
“It did not proceed.”
That wasn’t enough. Pelia’s patience was visibly thinning.
“Why?”
Aura’s gaze shifted.
This time—
she locked onto me.
And held.
“It identified a threat.”
Silence.
Absolute.
Kurn stood, stepping closer to Aura, staring into her glowing eyes.
“The Captain?”
Aura didn’t look away.
“Yes.”
Darak’s voice lowered.
“…On what basis?”
Aura answered without hesitation.
“Pattern instability.”
T’Varen tilted her head slightly.
“Unpredictability as a disruptive variable.”
Aura nodded once.
“The station integrates through pattern recognition. It requires stability to map and absorb neural structure.”
Darak’s eyes narrowed.
“…Cognitive anchoring.”
“Yes.”
I felt it before she said it.
But she said it anyway.
“You do not present a stable pattern.”
Ren blinked.
“…So it couldn’t read you.”
Aura corrected him.
“It could not complete you.”
That was worse.
Because it meant—
“It tried,” I said.
Aura didn’t respond.
She didn’t need to.
Darak looked back at the lattice.
“If it cannot fully integrate the Captain…”
His voice dropped.
“…then it cannot safely complete integration of the rest of us.”
T’Varen gave a small nod.
“A cascading instability risk.”
Pelia exhaled slowly.
“So it stopped.”
Aura’s voice remained soft.
“It chose to observe instead.”
Ren let out a breath.
“…It got scared.”
No one corrected him.
Because for the first time—
that actually fit.
I looked at the projection one more time.
At the echoes.
At what we thought we could save.
Then back at my crew.
“So the field works for us…”
Darak finished quietly.
“…because we are still separate.”
“And it didn’t finish the job,” Ren added.
Kurn’s gaze stayed on me.
“Because it wasn’t sure it could.”
An eerie silence settled over the room.
We weren’t special.
We were…
a problem it hadn’t solved yet.
And what about the colonists?
I looked at the EMH for an answer—and could tell he didn’t have one.
Everyone was looking at me now.
Waiting.
I wasn’t ready for this. Commander Pelia had said it would take at least a day to modify everything for departure.
It seemed logical to take that time.
I turned to Commander T’Varen.
“Commander, continue your research into the temporal anomalies—and be as discreet as possible.”
Then I turned to the rest of the crew.
“I want everyone working with Commander Pelia to begin modifying the USS Cairo for departure. Can we continue adapting the station’s lattice from here?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Good. That is your first priority. We cannot be certain the station has a complete scan of the Cairo. We do as much as possible under concealment before moving to the ship. That phase will need to be executed quickly.”
The atmosphere in the room had shifted.
The question of the colonists still hung there.
Unanswered.
Heavy.
But that was not a decision to be made impulsively.
There had to be another way.
“Doctor, I’ll join you in sickbay. We’ll review what options remain regarding the colonists’ integration.”
He shook his head slightly.
“I do not know if that will be possible, Captain.”
“Nevertheless… we try.”
I clasped my hands together, ready to leave this twentieth-century antique store behind.
“Meet here at fourteen hundred hours tomorrow. We will review progress in private. Crew dismissed.”
I wanted to be alone.
But retreating to my quarters wouldn’t help morale—not now.
Even if I needed the space to think.
Because I was about to make a decision that would carry weight.
What if the EMH was right?
What if we couldn’t save them?
We had to try.
Didn’t we?
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