He Didn’t Choose – The Station Took Instinct – Star Trek Fanfiction (Red Directive #27)

Silence spread across Ops once again. The station could also manipulate time.

I even had a hard time wrapping my head around it.

I scanned the room, and by everyone’s expressions, I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

Aside from my run-in with Q that only I seem to remember, I haven’t had any experience with time travel. The thought that the station could control time made me question everything that had happened since we arrived.

I noticed that Drim was still intently viewing his console. I leaned in to get a closer look, and he noticed. “Captain, based on these transmissions, the station can perceive the same moment across multiple timelines at once. They’re simultaneous from different points in time.”

This sounded too familiar. “The station isn’t reacting fast… It’s already seen the outcome.”

We shared a look. Everything was tied together. If Drim was thinking what I was, the station was gaining immense power being able to do all these things combined together. Drim’s eyes widened as he pointed to something on his console’s screen. “Some transmissions are from moments that haven’t happened yet.”

Definitely El-Aurian traits. “Drim, do you know what those future transmissions say?”

“They’re extremely fragmented, spread across multiple frequencies…”

“Can you decode it and stabilize it?”

“I can try, Captain.”

“Make it so.”

If Drim can find out what’s in these future transmissions, maybe we can at least learn what the station’s plan is with the colony.

Maybe once we find the rest of the cognitive anchors, that’ll give us some answers as to what happened to the Elionvorel.

There must be some way we could use its temporal awareness against it.

I looked up from Drim’s console and noticed everyone was looking in our direction, pondering the new information—everyone except Commander Pelia.

She was overly fixated, even for herself, on whatever she was working on.

It piqued my interest, so I left Drim to continue isolating the signal and walked up to the engineering console. Commander Pelia didn’t notice. “Commander…”

Before I could continue, I had startled her. “Captain. You’re like a damn cat. Coming out of nowhere… all quiet…”

I didn’t let her finish. I was too interested. “Commander, it looked like you were really intrigued by something. I wanted a report.”

“Yes, Captain. I think I may have found something in this ancient and unstoppable technology.”

Her tone immediately shifted, and I almost knew exactly what she had found. “I’ve been going over archived system logs, refit data, structural memory layers, and these supposed ‘new’ systems refitted by the Federation have actually been built over technology that predates this time by centuries.”

“Yes, we know the technology is extremely advanced and ancient.”

I must have looked confused. She grabbed both of my arms and shook me a little aggressively. “Don’t you see, Captain?!”

I thought she would stop, but she didn’t. “The station is sentient! If there are records that it has acknowledged the fact it’s centuries old, that’s deep-time memory! How many species can retain data like that across centuries without loss?”

I was right, she discovered what was taken from her own species.

The Lanthanite.

She noticed the recognition in my face and finally stopped shaking me. “Sorry, Captain. Learning you’re up to the chopping block can leave you a bit frazzled.”

“Are you sure that’s what you found?”

She stomped her tiny foot a little bit. “Of course I’m sure!”

She gestured to her console monitor. “This isn’t archived data… it’s intact. All of it. Nothing’s degraded… not even a little.”

I looked intently at her console as she continued speaking. “It can preserve memory perfectly over deep time, and it’s recalling that it’s been alive far longer than it should be.”

That didn’t sound right. I looked back at her. “That’s not possible.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But trust me, it is.”

At this point, why would anything surprise me in the least bit?

Commander Pelia still had a worried look on her face. An eerie coldness drifted through the air. “Captain, this is all giving me the heebie-jeebies. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to keep my cognitive anchor and return safely to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Wouldn’t we all?”

I left her in the coldness to return to the main display to recollect on the missing cognitive anchors.

There were still three we hadn’t found yet.

I noticed Commander T’Varen and Lieutenant Darak had been listening in on my conversation with Commander Pelia. Honestly, how could anyone miss it with her loud demeanor.

One less thing I would have to explain.

I stood and held my hand to my chin, deep in thought. Maybe also to help keep my eyes open. We were running on fumes again. I had a feeling Aura would be coming in at any moment.

The thought occurred, and all of a sudden I noticed Kurn out of the corner of my eye draw his phaser and aim it at the turbolift doors. It looked like he was about to stun something, and I turned to see what it was, but nothing was there.

He noticed too, because I didn’t hear the phaser discharge, and when I turned back around to look at him, he was lowering his weapon.

I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Just about everyone in the room was scanning Ops for some kind of threat. It’s not like Kurn to raise a false alarm.

Everyone seemed to look as confused as I felt. I checked the primary console—no contacts, no anomalies.

I decided not to say anything, as this was the least craziest thing we’ve seen since we’ve arrived at EOS Prospera. I went back to studying the refit crew’s profiles for the missing cognitive anchors.

It had only been a few moments when all of a sudden the wail of the klaxon sounded and flashing red lights flooded Ops. The computer was already repeating itself over the comms, “Red Alert. Red Alert.”

Commander T’Varen, Kurn, and I all put our hands on our phasers.

“Internal threat detected.”

For good reason, it seemed.

No sooner had the computer finished its Red Alert announcement, we heard the turbolift doors open and immediately raised our phasers toward them.

Without a blink, Kurn was already firing his phaser at something stepping out of the turbolift.

I panicked.

Was it really a Red Alert, or is the station messing with us and Kurn just shot Aura?

I started to run up the stairs to the second command level and the klaxon ceased. Then all lighting returned to normal. I stopped as the computer made another announcement over comms, “Internal threat neutralized.”

What?

I continued up the stairs to see what Kurn had shot down, praying it wasn’t Aura.

Thankfully it wasn’t her, but I was shocked at what I was looking at.

I kneeled down to get a closer look at the burnt-up remains. It appeared to be a similar type of android like Aura, but not her. Possibly a regeneration of one of the synthetics from the refit crew.

Kurn stepped up behind me to get a closer look as well. The synthetic clearly had two phasers in its hands, ready to fire. “Who knows where we would be right now without your fast instinct, Kurn.”

“That wasn’t my instinct…”

I stood up and looked at him with one eyebrow raised in question. “Explain.”

“I did not choose that reaction.”

He looked at his hands and dropped his phaser. “Everything feels amplified beyond normal. I didn’t do that.”

He slowly backed away, staring at his hands. Commander T’Varen and Lieutenant Darak had joined us with their PADDs in hand. I looked at both of them for answers. “Report.”

Commander T’Varen didn’t take her eyes off her PADD. “Captain, it is clear this is the next cognitive anchor we are searching for, as Kurn reports he did not initiate the action of destroying the synthetic.”

She was starting to get on my nerves just a little bit.

“Captain, I believe what Commander T’Varen is saying is that the station didn’t just take Klingon instinct…”

He gestured to Kurn, who was still in shock over losing control of his own hands.

“It’s weaponizing instinct and pushing people to act faster than they should. Kurn, without knowing, took immediate action under pressure.”

The answer was right in front of my face, but the commander still had to point it out. “The Klingon’s cognitive anchor was instinct, combat response, and adrenal drive. As Lieutenant Darak stated, EOS Prospera is clearly using this as a weapon.”

Clearly.

I looked back at the burning synthetic on the ground. Chills ran down my spine at the thought that the station could use us against each other.

Nowhere was safe here.

Before my mind could unravel, the turbolift doors slid open again and Aura stepped out. She nonchalantly looked down at the burning synthetic as she stepped over it to walk down the stairs to the main command floor.

I could feel it in my bones when she was coming. Even though I was glad to see she was in working order, I decided to speak before she had a chance to. “Crew dismissed. Return tomorrow at one nine hundred hours.”

As the words parted my lips, all the consoles went blank and everyone just backed up and decided not to question it, heading for the turbolifts.

Aura and I stared at each other. I wondered if she was going to question me about the synthetic or leave it at poor crew nutrition as she normally did. All my fault, of course.

I waited for her to speak, then she just turned around without changing her expression and headed for the turbolifts with the others.

Note to self. Dismiss crew before Aura can speak. That seemed to satisfy whatever she was looking for.

I started to head for the turbolift myself. As I took my first step onto the stairs to the upper command level, I saw a bright glare turn on from a monitor behind me. I closed my eyes and whispered, “don’t…”

But I did.

I turned and looked to see what had turned on.

The anomaly.

Large as ever on the main display.

I quickly turned to look up at the turbolifts and thankfully all the doors had already slid shut, sending everyone to the habitat ring for refueling.

As I turned back to look at the main display, that familiar sense of calm overcame me again. Just as before, exactly the same as in my quarters.

I closed my eyes again and let the feeling overtake me as the glow of the enormous, shifting anomaly enveloped me from the main display.

Then I heard it.

A voice I hadn’t heard in a while.

“Oh, I think you already know.”

Q.