Post by Fiona McFly on Feb 27, 2020 0:02:21 GMT
Chapter IX
“OUT OF THE BAG, PART III”
5 December 2019 + 1800 GMT
At sunset…
Kirel’s PADD, along with her other gadget, was placed in a line on a white-painted woden table.
Fiona McFly sat on her back porch, nestled in her creaky old rocking chair as she sipped from a small mug of hot Earl Grey with sweet cream. Her body was all tensed up from head to toe after her friend JJ gave her a pretty good working on the sparring octagon. His last words before driving to Corpus Christi, however, were even more chilling:
”I hope you ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back ‘cuz you’re lovestruck…!”
The warning signs were there -- emotional attachment was one of them. Kirel was, in her mind, a joy to have around as company, but perhaps...love was just a pipe dream, that it couldn’t really happen again to Fiona. The Northern Irishwoman closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that she might spend the rest of her life as a widow.
Yet then, as she listened to Kirel’s last audio log entry -- one that, just maybe, would have shed some light on the whole scenario...
”Personal log, supplementary -- Kirel recording.
This is a direct message for Fiona.
Please do not be offended, but it is time that I revealed the truth to you...”
...Fiona heard a very distinctive sound, witnessing as a figure faded in whilst surrounded by a shimmering blue light. She took her glasses off and shook her head as Debbie strolled up to the back porch.
FIONA MCFLY:
Tell me I didn’t just see that…
Debbie, to Fiona’s shock, wasn’t wearing any “normal” business suit. Instead, she was wearing black trousers with a double-breasted red jacket that was worn over a white turtle-necked undershirt. The undershirt, along with the stripes on her pants, shoulders, and left sleeve had a very distinctive cream-coloured hue. The jacket had a clasp on the right-hand shoulder and a sealing mechanism along its black stripe that allowed it to be closed.
On her left breast was a shiny, silvery badge.
On her right shoulder, there was a shimmering gold insignia that indicated a captain’s rank.
Debbie sat down on the other rocking chair, noting the devices that were on the table.
DEBBIE:
Snooping through another’s personal diary, I see…?!
Fiona eked out a sheepish expression at Debbie’s curt tone before handing the two devices to her.
FIONA:
Oh, these gadgets? They belong to Kirel…
DEBBIE:
Remind me to have a little chat with her about leaving Starfleet technology in my ancestor’s guestroom…
Fiona raised an eyebrow.
FIONA:
Hold up a moment! Do you mean to tell me that we’re...you know, related...?!
Debbie sighed, then nodded her head.
DEBBIE:
Deborah Deanna McFly, Captain of the USS Fredericksburg...I’m your descendant, by at least five generations. Kirel and I come from what on your calendar would be the early 25th century. An accident while on a routine science mission sent us here...
Fiona threw her hands up in the air, nearly spilling her drink by mistake.
FIONA:
Why the hell didn’t you tell me these things sooner?! That you were from the future, that you and Kirel were from another fucking planet...?!
DEBBIE:
Technically, I was born in Aransas Pass -- raised in Seguin. Kirel comes from a Romulan Republic colony on Jouret IV, on the other side of the Beta Quadrant.
Fiona facepalmed.
FIONA:
This is all too much for me to take in...
DEBBIE:
I understand, but we didn’t want to risk violating a core principle of non-interference, non-disclosure known as the Temporal Prime Directive by giving away too much information about the future.
Debbie took a deep breath as she tried to relax and take in the crisp, cool December air. Fiona closed her eyes for a moment, reflecting upon recent events as she sipped the last of her tea.
FIONA:
Do you hear that, Debbie?!
DEBBIE:
I don’t hear anything…
FIONA:
Exactly! No helicopters, no police sirens -- just the gentle breeze, the creaking this rocking chair makes on the back porch, and my own FUCKING thoughts!
Debbie shook her head, listening as her ancestor’s voice became more terse by the second.
FIONA:
But I can’t have the third thing ‘cos you’ve been pumping your thoughts into my mind -- that I was this so-called “Chosen One” -- for months, and quite frankly...I don’t give a shit about breaking some self-righteous principle that doesn’t have any effect on my own life WHAT-SO-FUCKING-EVER!
Fiona paused, her visage a ruby red.
FIONA:
I want to know why and how -- and I want to know now.
Debbie frowned, for she knew that the cat was truly out of the bag. Reaching behind her right ear, she pulled out a small clip and handed it to Fiona.
DEBBIE:
Synaptic neural stimulator. It allows the user to establish a connection between the brain and a computer system. When it’s activated, it stimulates the mind to create an image of anything you can describe -- at least, that’s the idea. However, since I’m only half-Human -- I’m half-Betazoid -- it has augmented my ability to sense emotions in a person beyond the normal flow of time itself. As for why I’ve been pumping thoughts into your head…?!
Debbie paused, took a deep breath, and whispered something into Fiona’s ear.
DEBBIE:
That’s something you’re gonna have to figure out for yourself.
The latter simply folded her arms, unamused by Debbie’s explanation and the fact that she dodged the most important question of “why the captain was invading her mind.
DEBBIE:
Didn’t you play “make-believe” when you were younger…?
FIONA:
Aye, when I was younger I used to make-believe that the IRA would stop killing innocent civilians on the streets of Belfast. Today, I make-believe that the cunts in Congress would get up off their lazy asses and do something that will benefit the entire United States instead of thinking of themselves as brave, underdog resistance fighters…
Fiona stood up and trudged into her back door, taking her empty mug with her. She stopped and turned slightly.
FIONA:
Point is, you wouldn’t want to show me around your starship?! Would you…?!
DEBBIE:
That wouldn’t be my first choice--
Fiona opened up the screen door and started to go inside...
FIONA:
Well, there you have it. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do and--
...but Debbie cut her off by raising a right hand.
DEBBIE:
Under normal circumstances, that is -- but I don’t think these are exactly “normal” circumstances.
Fiona stood in the middle of the partially-opened doorway, watching as Debbie stood up from her seat and placed a gentle hand on her ancestor’s left shoulder.
DEBBIE:
I know you didn’t ask for anything in return, but you hosted Kirel and did the best you could do for her. She's a very dear friend of mine, a valuable asset to our community, and...she loves you. Don't you love her, too?
Fiona could only nod her head.
DEBBIE:
I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to get her out of jail, but in light of the fact that you’ve been nothing else except for a gracious hostess, I’m offering you the chance to come aboard my ship, spend some time with my crew...my family.
Fiona raised her brow again as Debbie continued on.
DEBBIE:
Some of my officers have expressed a desire to learn about the 21st century, and...perhaps, this could be their chance to gain firsthand knowledge from someone who knows more about the time than I ever will. GIves you some good teaching practice after your retirement from your work...
Fiona’s expression changed slightly, from stoicism to an inner chuckle...
FIONA:
Are you drunk or something?!
DEBBIE:
I can assure you, Fiona...I’m as sober as a priest on Sunday.
...that soon turned into outright laughter as she let the screen door close shut behind her.
FIONA:
I’m a wrestler, Debbie -- I have a show coming up on the 9th, this Monday!
DEBBIE:
You won’t be going to the 25th century; you’ll be getting...a sample of it in the here and now. Besides, our chronometers are synchronised with the United States Central Time Zone, so we’ll have you back with plenty of time to spare.
FIONA:
Well if what you’ve been saying is true, and I’m still a bit skeptical about it, I hope you guys have a damn good gym!
Debbie looked puzzled for a moment, watching as Fiona gazed up at the setting sun.
DEBBIE:
My ship isn’t that big, so we don’t exactly have a gym per se...but you can always create one on the holodeck. We’ve got two of them.
FIONA:
And what exactly is a “holodeck”...?!
DEBBIE:
And just who, again, says she doesn’t give a shit about breaking some self-righteous set of principles…?!
Touche, Fiona muttered as she and Debbie stepped down onto the grass, a gentle breeze blowing in from the northwest.
DEBBIE:
Have you ever heard the story about the girl who held back the wildest parts of her imagination?!
FIONA:
No...what happened to her?
DEBBIE:
She spent the rest of her life in misery...
Fiona paused for a moment, the rhetorical question had made her think about what she had experienced in her life.
FIONA:
I want to be straight up with you, I’m...I’m torn. I’m torn between the urge to not leave my house and to see something that I can only describe as…unique. I’ve felt this way once before, four years ago when I decided to enter wrestling. Given what’s happened in my life over time, I tend to think of JJ, Rob, Sarah, and Sam as my family...as well as Kirel. And she was right…
As Debbie observed, Fiona harkened back to Kirel’s log entry from the night before.
FIONA:
Maybe it’s not about that empty house you return to after the day’s done. Maybe it’s about that plane ride from town to town, that empty arena calling your name out from afar, waiting for you to have a go at it. I’ve often found myself searching for peace and purpose in other areas of my life except my own work...
At that moment, it hit her. Everything Debbie had been trying to convey to Fiona was meant to send a message -- a message that the gracious captain was more than happy to reinforce.
DEBBIE:
I understand that JJ and Rob saved your life, that you owe them everything including your loyalty...but even the Chosen One has to learn how to stand on her own two feet...
Fiona nodded warmly.
FIONA:
You’re a captain, huh?!
DEBBIE:
That’s right. I’ve only had my post for seven months.
FIONA:
How big is your ship?
DEBBIE:
Nova-class, eight decks, 171 metres in length, crew complement of 78, but we only have 47 on board.
Fiona sighed. She knew that she wasn’t going to win on this night.
FIONA:
Who the hell am I to debate with the captain of a starship?! What’s her name again, the Fredericksburg?
DEBBIE:
Uh-huh...registry number NCC-1991.
FIONA:
You know, JJ would be going gaga right now if he heard I was going on this little adventure without him...but that sounds like a fun idea to me.
The two women strolled deeper into the grasslands, with Fiona looking her descendant directly into her hazel eyes.
FIONA:
I’ll go with you -- but I’ve got to be back before Monday. I”ve got nothing left to lose.
DEBBIE:
You’ll be back before then, I promise -- but you’ll have a helluva lot to gain between now and then.
Debbie, with a smile on her face, flipped open Kirel’s communicator. A husky-sounding male voice came up on the other end of the line.
”Chief Sorenson.”
DEBBIE:
Two to beam up -- and have Dr. Rhodes and Ensign Malkin meet us in the transporter room.
”Yes, ma’am!”
Fiona’s eyes widened. Debbie giggled slightly as she said...
DEBBIE:
Hang on to your boobs!
The Northern Irishwoman didn’t have to time to scream like a kid on a rollercoaster.
She closed her eyes as her body began to tingle with a very distinctive, fuzzy sensation. Without warning, she was surrounded by the same shimmering blue light she had seen earlier. Fiona felt as if she was being lifted up off the ground by some unknown force, watching as images of her own life flashed through her mind.
One moment, she was on her ranch.
The next moment, she found herself in a small room. She gazed up and down at the lights on the ceiling and on the deck. An African-American male, Chief Sorenson, stood behind a console with an expressionless look on his face, His heels were touching, his feet were at a forty-five degree angle, his knees were slightly bent and chest puffed. This was the position of “attention,” a position that Marine Corps recruits were expected to maintain whilst greeting a sailor, Marine, or in this case, a civilian.
He wore the same type of uniform as Debbie did -- save for an orange turtleneck and a gold-plated insignia that indicated the rank of a Chief Petty Officer.
Fiona heard a distinctive hum that seemed to come from theFredericksburg herself. The ship had a heartbeat, a life of its own as it were. She stepped off the transporter pad as normally as she could, pondering to herself…how. How was it that they were in orbit above the Earth, yet she wasn’t floating around in the middle of the room.
Artificial gravity…, Fiona muttered to herself.
At that point in time...she realised that Debbie was right.
You were right…, Fiona whispered as a sliding door opened and two other women stepped into the room -- one wearing a white labcoat and the other wearing the same uniform as Debbie and Chief Sorenson. The doctor smiled, nodding with a hint of warmth as she introduced herself with a thick Liverpool dialect.
DR. DAISY RHODES:
I’m Dr. Daisy Rhodes, this is Ensign Pamela Malkin. I’m here to escort you to sickbay for a complete bio-scan and decon.
Pamela Malkin, a fresh-faced, peppy young gal from Toronto, Canada, smiled from ear to ear.
ENSIGN PAMELA MALKIN:
Fabulous to meet you, eh Miss Fiona?! I know this sounds silly, but..may I shake your hand?
Fiona sheepishly extended her hand, unsure of what to think about the whole experience. Pamela took a firm grip and shook her hand, Fiona’s arm simply limping along at the gesture and the ensign’s overly-exuberant behaviour.
PAMELA:
Oh, isn’t this glorious!?! I never thought I’d get to meet THE living legend, THE Chosen One from the 21st century history books…
This is seriously creeping me out, Fiona thought as the awkwardness of the handshake became apparently clear.
PAMELA:
...Mama Bear, the one who traveled to the Old West and saved a town from a gang of outlaws, the namesake of my fucking high school--!!
DEBBIE:
(cuts Pamela off sharply)
Ensign, pipe down!!
Pamela cleared her throat, the pleasantries were over for now.
PAMELA:
Right, ma’am! Sickbay first, then I’ll show Miss Fiona to her quarters.
Fiona took a deep breath and slowly shuffled her way out of the transporter room and towards sickbay, but as she turned her head slightly, Debbie gave her ancestor a slight wink.
DEBBIE:
Welcome aboard...
~FIONA MCFLY WILL RETURN IN “INFINITY AND BEYOND"~
“OUT OF THE BAG, PART III”
5 December 2019 + 1800 GMT
At sunset…
Kirel’s PADD, along with her other gadget, was placed in a line on a white-painted woden table.
Fiona McFly sat on her back porch, nestled in her creaky old rocking chair as she sipped from a small mug of hot Earl Grey with sweet cream. Her body was all tensed up from head to toe after her friend JJ gave her a pretty good working on the sparring octagon. His last words before driving to Corpus Christi, however, were even more chilling:
”I hope you ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back ‘cuz you’re lovestruck…!”
The warning signs were there -- emotional attachment was one of them. Kirel was, in her mind, a joy to have around as company, but perhaps...love was just a pipe dream, that it couldn’t really happen again to Fiona. The Northern Irishwoman closed her eyes, resigned to the fact that she might spend the rest of her life as a widow.
Yet then, as she listened to Kirel’s last audio log entry -- one that, just maybe, would have shed some light on the whole scenario...
”Personal log, supplementary -- Kirel recording.
This is a direct message for Fiona.
Please do not be offended, but it is time that I revealed the truth to you...”
...Fiona heard a very distinctive sound, witnessing as a figure faded in whilst surrounded by a shimmering blue light. She took her glasses off and shook her head as Debbie strolled up to the back porch.
FIONA MCFLY:
Tell me I didn’t just see that…
Debbie, to Fiona’s shock, wasn’t wearing any “normal” business suit. Instead, she was wearing black trousers with a double-breasted red jacket that was worn over a white turtle-necked undershirt. The undershirt, along with the stripes on her pants, shoulders, and left sleeve had a very distinctive cream-coloured hue. The jacket had a clasp on the right-hand shoulder and a sealing mechanism along its black stripe that allowed it to be closed.
On her left breast was a shiny, silvery badge.
On her right shoulder, there was a shimmering gold insignia that indicated a captain’s rank.
Debbie sat down on the other rocking chair, noting the devices that were on the table.
DEBBIE:
Snooping through another’s personal diary, I see…?!
Fiona eked out a sheepish expression at Debbie’s curt tone before handing the two devices to her.
FIONA:
Oh, these gadgets? They belong to Kirel…
DEBBIE:
Remind me to have a little chat with her about leaving Starfleet technology in my ancestor’s guestroom…
Fiona raised an eyebrow.
FIONA:
Hold up a moment! Do you mean to tell me that we’re...you know, related...?!
Debbie sighed, then nodded her head.
DEBBIE:
Deborah Deanna McFly, Captain of the USS Fredericksburg...I’m your descendant, by at least five generations. Kirel and I come from what on your calendar would be the early 25th century. An accident while on a routine science mission sent us here...
Fiona threw her hands up in the air, nearly spilling her drink by mistake.
FIONA:
Why the hell didn’t you tell me these things sooner?! That you were from the future, that you and Kirel were from another fucking planet...?!
DEBBIE:
Technically, I was born in Aransas Pass -- raised in Seguin. Kirel comes from a Romulan Republic colony on Jouret IV, on the other side of the Beta Quadrant.
Fiona facepalmed.
FIONA:
This is all too much for me to take in...
DEBBIE:
I understand, but we didn’t want to risk violating a core principle of non-interference, non-disclosure known as the Temporal Prime Directive by giving away too much information about the future.
Debbie took a deep breath as she tried to relax and take in the crisp, cool December air. Fiona closed her eyes for a moment, reflecting upon recent events as she sipped the last of her tea.
FIONA:
Do you hear that, Debbie?!
DEBBIE:
I don’t hear anything…
FIONA:
Exactly! No helicopters, no police sirens -- just the gentle breeze, the creaking this rocking chair makes on the back porch, and my own FUCKING thoughts!
Debbie shook her head, listening as her ancestor’s voice became more terse by the second.
FIONA:
But I can’t have the third thing ‘cos you’ve been pumping your thoughts into my mind -- that I was this so-called “Chosen One” -- for months, and quite frankly...I don’t give a shit about breaking some self-righteous principle that doesn’t have any effect on my own life WHAT-SO-FUCKING-EVER!
Fiona paused, her visage a ruby red.
FIONA:
I want to know why and how -- and I want to know now.
Debbie frowned, for she knew that the cat was truly out of the bag. Reaching behind her right ear, she pulled out a small clip and handed it to Fiona.
DEBBIE:
Synaptic neural stimulator. It allows the user to establish a connection between the brain and a computer system. When it’s activated, it stimulates the mind to create an image of anything you can describe -- at least, that’s the idea. However, since I’m only half-Human -- I’m half-Betazoid -- it has augmented my ability to sense emotions in a person beyond the normal flow of time itself. As for why I’ve been pumping thoughts into your head…?!
Debbie paused, took a deep breath, and whispered something into Fiona’s ear.
DEBBIE:
That’s something you’re gonna have to figure out for yourself.
The latter simply folded her arms, unamused by Debbie’s explanation and the fact that she dodged the most important question of “why the captain was invading her mind.
DEBBIE:
Didn’t you play “make-believe” when you were younger…?
FIONA:
Aye, when I was younger I used to make-believe that the IRA would stop killing innocent civilians on the streets of Belfast. Today, I make-believe that the cunts in Congress would get up off their lazy asses and do something that will benefit the entire United States instead of thinking of themselves as brave, underdog resistance fighters…
Fiona stood up and trudged into her back door, taking her empty mug with her. She stopped and turned slightly.
FIONA:
Point is, you wouldn’t want to show me around your starship?! Would you…?!
DEBBIE:
That wouldn’t be my first choice--
Fiona opened up the screen door and started to go inside...
FIONA:
Well, there you have it. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do and--
...but Debbie cut her off by raising a right hand.
DEBBIE:
Under normal circumstances, that is -- but I don’t think these are exactly “normal” circumstances.
Fiona stood in the middle of the partially-opened doorway, watching as Debbie stood up from her seat and placed a gentle hand on her ancestor’s left shoulder.
DEBBIE:
I know you didn’t ask for anything in return, but you hosted Kirel and did the best you could do for her. She's a very dear friend of mine, a valuable asset to our community, and...she loves you. Don't you love her, too?
Fiona could only nod her head.
DEBBIE:
I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to get her out of jail, but in light of the fact that you’ve been nothing else except for a gracious hostess, I’m offering you the chance to come aboard my ship, spend some time with my crew...my family.
Fiona raised her brow again as Debbie continued on.
DEBBIE:
Some of my officers have expressed a desire to learn about the 21st century, and...perhaps, this could be their chance to gain firsthand knowledge from someone who knows more about the time than I ever will. GIves you some good teaching practice after your retirement from your work...
Fiona’s expression changed slightly, from stoicism to an inner chuckle...
FIONA:
Are you drunk or something?!
DEBBIE:
I can assure you, Fiona...I’m as sober as a priest on Sunday.
...that soon turned into outright laughter as she let the screen door close shut behind her.
FIONA:
I’m a wrestler, Debbie -- I have a show coming up on the 9th, this Monday!
DEBBIE:
You won’t be going to the 25th century; you’ll be getting...a sample of it in the here and now. Besides, our chronometers are synchronised with the United States Central Time Zone, so we’ll have you back with plenty of time to spare.
FIONA:
Well if what you’ve been saying is true, and I’m still a bit skeptical about it, I hope you guys have a damn good gym!
Debbie looked puzzled for a moment, watching as Fiona gazed up at the setting sun.
DEBBIE:
My ship isn’t that big, so we don’t exactly have a gym per se...but you can always create one on the holodeck. We’ve got two of them.
FIONA:
And what exactly is a “holodeck”...?!
DEBBIE:
And just who, again, says she doesn’t give a shit about breaking some self-righteous set of principles…?!
Touche, Fiona muttered as she and Debbie stepped down onto the grass, a gentle breeze blowing in from the northwest.
DEBBIE:
Have you ever heard the story about the girl who held back the wildest parts of her imagination?!
FIONA:
No...what happened to her?
DEBBIE:
She spent the rest of her life in misery...
Fiona paused for a moment, the rhetorical question had made her think about what she had experienced in her life.
FIONA:
I want to be straight up with you, I’m...I’m torn. I’m torn between the urge to not leave my house and to see something that I can only describe as…unique. I’ve felt this way once before, four years ago when I decided to enter wrestling. Given what’s happened in my life over time, I tend to think of JJ, Rob, Sarah, and Sam as my family...as well as Kirel. And she was right…
As Debbie observed, Fiona harkened back to Kirel’s log entry from the night before.
FIONA:
Maybe it’s not about that empty house you return to after the day’s done. Maybe it’s about that plane ride from town to town, that empty arena calling your name out from afar, waiting for you to have a go at it. I’ve often found myself searching for peace and purpose in other areas of my life except my own work...
At that moment, it hit her. Everything Debbie had been trying to convey to Fiona was meant to send a message -- a message that the gracious captain was more than happy to reinforce.
DEBBIE:
I understand that JJ and Rob saved your life, that you owe them everything including your loyalty...but even the Chosen One has to learn how to stand on her own two feet...
Fiona nodded warmly.
FIONA:
You’re a captain, huh?!
DEBBIE:
That’s right. I’ve only had my post for seven months.
FIONA:
How big is your ship?
DEBBIE:
Nova-class, eight decks, 171 metres in length, crew complement of 78, but we only have 47 on board.
Fiona sighed. She knew that she wasn’t going to win on this night.
FIONA:
Who the hell am I to debate with the captain of a starship?! What’s her name again, the Fredericksburg?
DEBBIE:
Uh-huh...registry number NCC-1991.
FIONA:
You know, JJ would be going gaga right now if he heard I was going on this little adventure without him...but that sounds like a fun idea to me.
The two women strolled deeper into the grasslands, with Fiona looking her descendant directly into her hazel eyes.
FIONA:
I’ll go with you -- but I’ve got to be back before Monday. I”ve got nothing left to lose.
DEBBIE:
You’ll be back before then, I promise -- but you’ll have a helluva lot to gain between now and then.
Debbie, with a smile on her face, flipped open Kirel’s communicator. A husky-sounding male voice came up on the other end of the line.
”Chief Sorenson.”
DEBBIE:
Two to beam up -- and have Dr. Rhodes and Ensign Malkin meet us in the transporter room.
”Yes, ma’am!”
Fiona’s eyes widened. Debbie giggled slightly as she said...
DEBBIE:
Hang on to your boobs!
The Northern Irishwoman didn’t have to time to scream like a kid on a rollercoaster.
She closed her eyes as her body began to tingle with a very distinctive, fuzzy sensation. Without warning, she was surrounded by the same shimmering blue light she had seen earlier. Fiona felt as if she was being lifted up off the ground by some unknown force, watching as images of her own life flashed through her mind.
One moment, she was on her ranch.
The next moment, she found herself in a small room. She gazed up and down at the lights on the ceiling and on the deck. An African-American male, Chief Sorenson, stood behind a console with an expressionless look on his face, His heels were touching, his feet were at a forty-five degree angle, his knees were slightly bent and chest puffed. This was the position of “attention,” a position that Marine Corps recruits were expected to maintain whilst greeting a sailor, Marine, or in this case, a civilian.
He wore the same type of uniform as Debbie did -- save for an orange turtleneck and a gold-plated insignia that indicated the rank of a Chief Petty Officer.
Fiona heard a distinctive hum that seemed to come from theFredericksburg herself. The ship had a heartbeat, a life of its own as it were. She stepped off the transporter pad as normally as she could, pondering to herself…how. How was it that they were in orbit above the Earth, yet she wasn’t floating around in the middle of the room.
Artificial gravity…, Fiona muttered to herself.
At that point in time...she realised that Debbie was right.
You were right…, Fiona whispered as a sliding door opened and two other women stepped into the room -- one wearing a white labcoat and the other wearing the same uniform as Debbie and Chief Sorenson. The doctor smiled, nodding with a hint of warmth as she introduced herself with a thick Liverpool dialect.
DR. DAISY RHODES:
I’m Dr. Daisy Rhodes, this is Ensign Pamela Malkin. I’m here to escort you to sickbay for a complete bio-scan and decon.
Pamela Malkin, a fresh-faced, peppy young gal from Toronto, Canada, smiled from ear to ear.
ENSIGN PAMELA MALKIN:
Fabulous to meet you, eh Miss Fiona?! I know this sounds silly, but..may I shake your hand?
Fiona sheepishly extended her hand, unsure of what to think about the whole experience. Pamela took a firm grip and shook her hand, Fiona’s arm simply limping along at the gesture and the ensign’s overly-exuberant behaviour.
PAMELA:
Oh, isn’t this glorious!?! I never thought I’d get to meet THE living legend, THE Chosen One from the 21st century history books…
This is seriously creeping me out, Fiona thought as the awkwardness of the handshake became apparently clear.
PAMELA:
...Mama Bear, the one who traveled to the Old West and saved a town from a gang of outlaws, the namesake of my fucking high school--!!
DEBBIE:
(cuts Pamela off sharply)
Ensign, pipe down!!
Pamela cleared her throat, the pleasantries were over for now.
PAMELA:
Right, ma’am! Sickbay first, then I’ll show Miss Fiona to her quarters.
Fiona took a deep breath and slowly shuffled her way out of the transporter room and towards sickbay, but as she turned her head slightly, Debbie gave her ancestor a slight wink.
DEBBIE:
Welcome aboard...
~FIONA MCFLY WILL RETURN IN “INFINITY AND BEYOND"~
Well howdy there pardner.