USS MILLENNIUM: some time before

 “Well Mister Baoule?”

The two men watching the engineer sweat over his holographic controls seemed to be pressed by time; and they had no compulsion sharing this pressure with the tall, lean black-skinned bald man with the one and a half pips on the golden collar of his grey and black uniform. They themselves wore non-descript dark green suits with no insigna or decoration whatsoever.

The smallest of the two, a sandy-haired middle aged man, had a dour expression as if he had never smiled in his entire life. He was the one who had voiced the question with a toneless voice.

“The chronitons emissions are within expected parameters and the quantum matrix is nominal. The link between them is stable and control systems are online. After we have completed all levels of diagnostics, everything registers as per expectations.”

“Then, what went wrong?”

That question came from the taller one, dark haired, heavy set, somewhat younger yet with the same dull expression as if even the answer to his own question was unimportant to him. But his intense black eyes said otherwise.

“As I feared, gentlemen; the computation.”

The shorter man sighed.

“Mister Baoule; this ship has the single most powerful computer ever conceived by any advanced civilization... “

“As of now,” added the other.

Unphased, his colleague continued on the same clipped tone as before.

“... and the coordinates had already been proof-tested and calculated long ago.”

The engineer shook bis head.

“They had been computed for an entirely different structure with completely different systems, power source, configuration, structural components... even mass and volume if not taken precisely into account will throw off all these calculations. And this is what happened. Moreover, they were crude and imprecise; not at all the kind of efficiency we are expecting from this project.”

“In other words; it doesn't work.”

Baoule shook his head.

“No Sir; the theory is sound, the technology proven and the design ready. When we attempted the first launch right in the middle of a crisis, we just didn't have the computer power to ensure it's reliability.”

“But now we do.”

The three of them turned to an elderly man wearing a tunic as white as his short cropped hair crowning his wrinkled dark brown face. A Starfleet security guard was at his side. Behind him was another dark skinned man, head shaven and bearded, with small creases on the bridge of his nose marking him as half-Bajoran and half-Human. The three pips on his golden collar showed him to be a full fledged Starfleet commander.

The short green clad man seized them up without even the hint of a welcoming smile.

“Commander?”

“Sisko; Joey D. Sisko, from the USS Horizon,” completed the man not smiling either.

“Lotus Fleet... Kheren's ship,” his tall companion added as if to remind the other who nodded, then addressed the elderly man.

“Doctor Daystrom. It seems that your computing wonder is not up to expectations.”

“Not yet,” the old man admitted. “As of now, the entire assembly is functionning perfectly and surpassing all other quantum computers even in experimental labs anywhere because of it's unique architecture. But since you did not allow it to mature...”

“Doctor Daystrom,” interrupted the sandy-haired man, “you're talking to the most knowledgeable people in this galaxy about history; we are well aware of the potential and the risks involved in this... maturation process you so colorfully refer to. Your design was accepted only because it was allegedly powerful enough to meet our requirements and could be implemented without such risks.”

“The twenty-fifth century doesn't need it's own Achilles incident or any such M5 catastrophe,” added the other.

“That's where Commander Sisko comes in,” Daystrom answered just as curtly.

As they all focused on the half-Bajoran, he simply cleared his voice before elaborating.

“Well, yes I suppose... You see, gentlemen, from the twenty-third century up to the present day, the main complain about computer systems was that they could not think and react like sentient beings. The intuitive leaps, the insights, going beyond logic, the feel of things, the instinct, the gut feeling... call it what you will... it was beyond even the most sophisticated machines, even beyond the positronic revolution of Doctor Noonian Soong and his still unparallelled androids. The inorganic nature of their being that gave them so many advantages was also their limitation... until Doctor Daystrom's breakthrough here.”

“And such... feel for things and events is required to fully adjust this grand design of yours,” explained the elderly man with the hint of a triumphant smile.

But the two green-clad men were not smiling.

“Doctor Daystrom; you are still serving a sentence in a Federation penal colony for the results of your... breakthrough,” the shorter one said. “A powerful warship lost, responsible for depredations in the Mutara nebula for thirty years, culminating in the recreation of a long dead dictator's spirit now imbued with the terrible destructive power of that starship and the instantaneous relays of a supercomputer.”

“Which has been neutralized,” Sisko pointed out.

The short green-suted one snorted.

“Yes, we read Captain Kheren's report from the maiden voyage of the Horizon. That the danger might have possibly been averted, at least for the foreseeable future...”

“If there is such a thing,” interjected the other.

“But it does not preclude it from ever happening again.”

“Unless, gentlemen, we have a fully matured system fully commited to the three Asimovian laws, the Articles of the Federation and Starfleet's general orders and regulations,” Daystrom offered with an even wider smile.

“I am afraid you are a couple of centuries too early for that, Doctor,” Robert Baoule sighed.

“Commander?”

Sisko answered the smiling invitation of the older man by showing a PADD in one hand and an unusually large quantum computing storing device he was holding behind his back all this time, unnoticed because of the familiar Starfleet posture. He gave the PADD to the taller man who scanned it and then, with wide eyes, passed it to his colleague. As he too read on with a widening stare, Sisko sumrized the PADD's content outloud.

“This is the official authorization from the Federation Council, the Federation Science Council, Starfleet Security, Starfleet Corps of Engineers and even your own Bureau... and the acceptance form signed by all concerned individuals.”

It took a moment for both men to recheck all of it three times and grip with what it meant before the tall dark haired man finally spoke.

“Are you sure of this?”

Sisko and Daystrom exchanged a glance, like two proud parents before the schoolboard of their child.

“Yes, we are.”

There was another pause before the shorter one spoke also'

“And this... interface?”

“Two years in the making, gentlemen... and that was the easy part since the technology for the frame, which was all that was needed here, had been known and studied for half a century and field tested extensively on the Enterprise D and E... as you are well aware of.”

“But, Mister Sisko, no one, not even you or Doctor Daystrom here, has yet managed to fully recreate Dr Soong's positronic technology.”

“To this date,” chimed in his taller companion.

“Ah but gentlemen, that's the beauty of it,” beamed the old Daystrom. “Thanks to this design of yours and my new approach, we don't need to... at least as far as your needs are concerned.”

The man was obviously happy, proud even; but he was also just as eager, nervous, almost... frantic about it all.

Both suited men exchanged a look, then with engineer Baoule who nodded, obviously fascinated by it all. Then the sandy-haired man sighed.

“Proceed, Commander Sisklo.”

“Doctor Daystrom; the honors should be yours.”

With trembling hands, the old man took the storage device from the Starfleet officer as if it was the most fragile thing in the universe. Slowly he went to the console Baoule had been using and delicately connected the device to it. There were a few chirps and whistles, a display of light and then everything went dark.

“Doctor...”

Before anyone could start worrying as the dark haired suited man did, all lights and sounds came back slowly, as if all systems around them were awakening from sleep.

Daystrom was crying as he went back to almost fall into Sisko's arms.

“Thank you... thank you... thank you...”

Behind them, at the end of the corridor, the doors of the turbolift opened.Out came a Starfleet Ensign, a young platinum haired, golden eyed woman of striking beauty with the same half-Bajoran nasal ridges as the Commander. Her skirted grey and black boots and uniform showed one golden pip on her red collar.

As she came up to Sisko and Daystrom, she had a shy smile for them. She was rather tall,perfectly proportionned and barely looked out of her teens. But she stood before them in a perfunctory Starfleet posture of attention as Sisko presented her.

Gentlemen, may I present to you Ensign Thetis Daystrom Jureth, class of 2370 with highest honors, yeoman of the starship USS Millennium.

“Sirs,” she said in a soft musical voice, “please call me Tess.”