After The Fall Part II
Posted on Sat Mar 7th, 2026 @ 1:05pm by Captain Thorrin & Commander Marisa Sandoval & Lieutenant Addison Talbert & Major Hastios Eilfaren
Edited on on Sat Mar 7th, 2026 @ 1:08pm
1,930 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
In The Nick Of Time
Location: Eight Lightyears From The Carlson Rift
Timeline: MD008 1100 hrs
“So, either this is the most elaborate Dominion interrogation I’ve ever seen…” she said slowly, “…or you’re telling the truth.”
She paused, studying their faces one more time.
“And if you are telling the truth,” she added quietly, “then my dad isn’t here.”
You didn't live for five centuries without increasing your sense of deduction. "Your father, no he is not here. In the interest of total honesty, I do not know why he isn't here. However, I suspect a version of your father exists here. We know that a version of you does not exist here. Temporally speaking that means the events that led to your birth did not happen here. Tell me by any chance is your father Tyler Malbrooke?" For Thorrin that was the only answer. She had the name, she had the look, but she did not exist, not here at least. That means that Tyler Malbrooke had not met her mother. The pieces certainly fit.
Marisa watched the interplay quietly as Maren put the pieces together. She did not know this Tyler Malbrooke, but she heard his name at some point. She could only imagine what the other woman was thinking and hoped that, wherever she ended up. she'd have the help of a good counselor. The half-Vulcan could not imagine her wanting to go back to her own dimension--if that was even possible under the circumstances.
She noticed an uptick in Maren's pulse, Addison placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder, having compassion for the young woman. Maren was finding herself in a rather difficult situation that Addison wouldn't wish on anyone.
Work continued on with the physical healing, the other healing will take time.
"Tyler Malbrooke. I've not heard of him before. Hopefully he will be able to give you the direction you need, Maren. I wish you the best."
Maren listened to Thorrin in silence, her dark eyes fixed on him with a sharper kind of attention now. The doctor’s work had taken the edge off the pain in her ribs, but the tension in her chest had only tightened as the implications of what he was saying began to settle in.
When he spoke her father’s name, the reaction was immediate.
Her pulse jumped on the monitor.
For a moment she didn’t answer. Her gaze drifted away from him and toward the deck as if the words themselves had weight. The idea that another version of her father might exist here—alive in a universe where the war had gone differently—sat somewhere between impossible and painfully plausible.
“…yeah,” she said finally, her voice quieter than anything she had spoken since waking. “Tyler Malbrooke.”
She swallowed once, the admission feeling strangely vulnerable.
“He’s my dad.”
Addison’s hand came to rest gently on her shoulder.
Maren flinched hard.
The reaction was immediate and instinctive, her body recoiling from the unexpected contact as years of conditioned caution took over. At the same time the fragile control she had been holding over her empathic field snapped outward like a struck wire.
The psychic backlash rolled through Sickbay in a sudden wave.
It wasn’t directed. It wasn’t controlled. It was the emotional equivalent of a pressure release, raw sensation spilling outward into the room—fear, anger, confusion, stubborn defiance, and the sharp ache of uncertainty all pushed out at once. The lights above flickered again as the surge passed through the space.
Across the room, one of the nurses stiffened abruptly, her expression shifting from calm professionalism to visible unease as the emotional spill over hit her without warning. Another technician at a nearby console blinked rapidly, momentarily distracted by a sudden rush of anxiety that wasn’t their own. The room’s quiet balance faltered for a few seconds as the uncontrolled empathic ripple washed through the smaller presences nearby.
Marisa sucked in a quick breath as she felt the emotional onslaught.
Maren sucked in a breath as if she had surfaced from deep water, her hand coming up automatically to push Addison’s away before she even realized she’d done it.
“Don’t—” she snapped, the word sharp but not cruel.
Her breathing was uneven again, eyes flicking between the people around her as she forced the surge back down, dragging her control back into place piece by piece.
“I don’t like being touched,” she added after a moment, the edge still in her voice but tempered now by the faint embarrassment of what had just happened.
A gasp from Addison, the doctor wincing from the onslaught of the emotions from Maren.
The dermal regenerator dropped from Addison's fingers, onto Maren’s chest. She had to clutch onto the bio bed itself to steady herself.
"I-I am sorry, that wasn't meant to cause you any trouble" Addison's voice a bit shaken she drew in a breath to steady herself.
"The contact will be minimal and there had been contact earlier, when you were brought into sickbay" Addison's voice going steadier. "Now if you would please, could you hand me the dermal regenerator so that i can finish my work."
Addison realizing the girl who was seventeen years old, from what the computer had brought up. She hadn't meant to do that and was embarrassed.
Maren blinked, still catching her breath as the emotional aftershock faded from the room. The dermal regenerator rested awkwardly against her chest where it had landed, its soft hum still active.
For a moment she just looked at it, then carefully picked it up.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she muttered, her voice quieter now, the earlier edge dulled by a mix of embarrassment and lingering exhaustion. “It just… happens sometimes.”
She held the device out toward Addison without sitting up too far, her ribs protesting the movement.
“And I was unconscious earlier,” she added after a beat, a faint defensive note creeping back in despite herself. “So, I don’t really remember that part.”
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the floor before returning to the doctor.
“Sorry,” she said, the word clearly not one she used often.
Marisa stepped forward. "We know you did not mean it," she said calmly. "And if it helps, I do not like being touched by many people, either." She flicked to Hastios and back. "Not everyone does--or should. And now that we know, we will be more cautious in future."
Maren listened, but the fight had mostly drained out of her.
The surge of adrenaline that had carried her through the shuttle, the bay, the arguments—it was fading now that the pain was dulling and the room had settled again. Her shoulders sank back slightly against the biobed as the exhaustion finally began to catch up with her.
“…good,” she murmured, the word quiet and lacking the sharp edge she’d carried earlier.
She didn’t argue. Didn’t snap back.
Her gaze drifted briefly toward Marisa, then away again, settling somewhere near the ceiling lights. The empathic noise in the room had calmed, and without the constant pressure of alarms and pursuit clawing at the back of her mind, the silence felt strangely heavy.
“I’m just… tired,” she admitted after a moment, her voice softer now, the stubborn defiance replaced by simple fatigue.
Her eyes closed briefly as she let her head rest back against the support of the biobed, the tension in her posture loosening for the first time since they had dragged her out of the shuttle.
Thorrin understood being tired especially after the ordeal she had been through. However, he also knew that the longer she was in this timeline, the higher the risk of contamination to the prime timeline and her own timeline. So, rather than allow her to sleep, Thorrin thought it best to get as much information as possible. "If you would be so kind Ms Malbrooke. We do need to know as much as we can about your father. The kind of man he is, where he was going. The more we know the sooner we can get you back to where you belong."
Maren’s eyes had only just closed when Thorrin began speaking again. They opened slowly, the exhaustion still heavy behind them as she stared up at the ceiling lights for a moment, the steady hum of Sickbay pressing in around her. The dull ache in her ribs had settled into something tolerable, but it was still there, reminding her with every breath that the doctor wasn’t finished yet.
Her head turned toward him gradually, the look she gave him equal parts disbelief and irritation.
“So let me get this straight,” she said, her voice tired but edged with dry sarcasm. “You won’t let me die, you won’t let me sleep, and now you want a full interrogation while I’m lying here getting patched up?”
She shifted slightly on the biobed, wincing as the movement tugged at her ribs and shoulder. The annoyance in her expression sharpened, though the fatigue behind it was impossible to hide.
“No,” she said flatly after a moment, shaking her head once. “If you want answers about my dad, we’re not doing it like this.”
Her eyes flicked briefly toward Addison and the medical equipment surrounding her before returning to Thorrin.
“I’m not giving you my life story while I’m lying on a table being poked and scanned,” she continued, her tone stubborn despite the circumstances. “You want to ask questions, fine. But we do it somewhere else when I can actually sit up without feeling like my ribs are trying to stab me.”
She let the silence sit for a second, then added with weary resignation.
“I’m not going anywhere anyway, am I?”
"No," Marisa said quietly. "It should not be here. You need food and you need rest. There will be time to talk later."
Addison turned a baleful eye towards Thorrin, her voice rather firm.
"Captain, Maren is not in any condition to be questioned at this time. Right now she needs rest, quiet and she will be fed. It is time for you to leave and let me tend to her."
Thorrin's eyes could have bore phaser holes through the Doctor, although no one would know that. Thorrin was an expert at keeping his emotion off his face. However, there was a rather long beat of silence that followed the Doctor's request. He smiled genially in due course. "Very well Doctor. As you wish. See to it that Ms Malbrooke gets some rest. Kindly summon Commander Sandoval and I when she is rested. We will go from there. For now, sweet dreams." The tone of his voice and his accent one did not know if he joked or was serious. Regardless, Thorrin left Sick Bay with more questions than he was comfortable with.
A Joint Post By
Captain Thorrin
Commanding Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Commander Marisa Sandoval
Executive Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Lieutenant Addison Talbert
Chief Medical Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
Maren Malbrooke
Civilian, USS Pioneer
RSS Feed