"Thank you for coming to me with this, Rosalyn. It must not have been easy for you," the counselor said gently. Rosalyn nodded, wiping an unshed tear from her eye. Deanna placed a hand on hers, recapturing her eyes with hers. "I know you feel guilty for being here without her knowledge, but I can assure you, after what you've told me… You were right to do so." She removed her hand and her brows furrowed. "I just can't understand how this could've gone unnoticed for so long."

"I don't know. Honestly, I didn't want to be the one to come here," she began, and then seemed to change her mind. Deanna raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. "I spoke to her parents first, obviously, but…" she trailed off again. "They seemed… afraid, almost."

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"I'm not sure. All I know is, when I mentioned going to someone about this, I sensed their fear."
"Do you think they might have been afraid for her safety?"
"No," Rosalyn shook her head. "It was more like… they might have been afraid of her."

Deanna pursed her lips. The parents, afraid of their own child? Especially one as sweet and unassuming as Maria? It simply didn't make sense. Then she felt something— a dark feeling, blooming inside her chest. It wasn't her Betazoid senses. It was cold, hard, inescapable intuition. The same intuition that has probably been keeping up Rosalyn as well as the poor girl's parents up for weeks. There was something deeply wrong, and the fact that it had gone unnoticed for so long just proved that the problem might be bigger than she had originally thought. Still, she didn't want to alarm the child.

"People's emotions can be interpreted in many different ways. Whatever's wrong, we'll all work through it, together. Okay?" she smiled again, reassuring. Rosalyn smiled back, but just there, underneath the surface, Deanna felt a glimmer of doubt.

Maria's hand clamped over the railing, cold and white with strain. She was panting, and sheen of sweat running down her back. Had there been another soul around, they would've insisted on taking her to sick bay immediately. She was nearly as pale as the walls of the chamber that connected all the internal Jeffries tubes, her eyes shining with an unnatural, sickly glow.

She kept climbing. She was nearly there. Just a few more rungs, and—

Her foot slipped, and for a brief moment she clung on to the metal with just her dangerously slippery hands. The moment of terror snapped her back to reality for just a split second. Just enough time for her to think, What am I doing here? But just as fast as the moment of clarity came, it was gone. Her features settled back into their previous state, void of any emotion save the physical strain that was evident on her body. They hadn't let her sleep for days now. When she was conscious, somewhere deep in her mind, she could sense them— and they were running out of time. Time for what, she could never figure out, but it felt critical. Time was of the essence.

The never-ending jumble of unintelligible words and commands was enough to drive a person mad. That's why for most of it, despite her best efforts to remain conscious, she would let the darkness take over. Just for a moment of rest. A moment of silence. But even then, the sheer exhaustion she felt aching through every muscle and every joint every damn day— she knew she couldn't hold out for much longer.

The buzzes and whispers ceased, and then exploded once more with unbelievable fervour. She had arrived.

They lifted her arm and had her pull out the phaser. A phaser? Where— The instrument turned on and started cutting through the panel on her right. Then it fell away, fell down and down until it landed with a resounding crash a few a few dozen meters below her.

She had access to the main computer array. But how? How could they have known to come here, of all places? There was a reason why there wasn't an access panel here in the first place. It would make no sense to get to the computer systems through here. What did they want? Why—

She seized, her back arching in pain. They had her hand in there now, fingers splayed across the wiring of the interface, a sharp light connecting her tissue to the panel. The phaser— where was the phaser? The buzz in her mind grew impossibly loud. She had to find a way to stop them before—

It was there. It had dropped from her hand and into the small compartment underneath the tech. If she could just peel her hand away… Somewhere, faraway, an alarm sounded. Using the distraction as well as every ounce of remaining power she had left, she removed her hand from the wall and wrapped her fingers around the weapon.
"Oh no, you don't," she rasped, lifting it, trembling, to her temple. She was going to win. For weeks, they've tortured her, abused her body, took away her autonomy. Maria had been conscious enough to see the effect its had on her loved ones. But no more. She let out a bark of laughter, watching as the chamber around her flashed in red.

And then—

Darkness.

"Captain, shields are holding at eighty-seven percent," Wesley informed the bridge. Red alert rang throughout the ship, and the crew assembled at their battle stations.

The turbolift doors hissed open, revealing Lieutenant Commander Data and Commander Riker.

"Thank you, Ensign. Lieutenant Worf, report," Captain Picard ordered, not turning around, eyes locked on the viewscreen. His unwavering professionalism is what so often kept the bridge from slipping into chaos, the determination in his eyes inspiring the rest.

Data relieved the Ensign from his post, taking control of the helm.

"No injuries or casualties have been reported as of yet, sir," he said, hands tapping the monitor. "Correction. Reports from the engineering section are coming in now." He looked up. "Something is wrong with the warp core."

"Could you be any more specific about the situation, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir."
Captain Picard huffed, leaning back into his seat. Having nearly no information about the status of the warp core was not ideal, but he must deal with issues that he could actually do something about in the time being. "We are two point eight parsecs away from the origin point of the anomaly. Is there any reason why it would reappear here, now?"

"It certainly is an unusual occurrence, Captain," said Data.

"Can you speculate?"

Data pushed the helm away from him, turning in his chair to face the captain. "As it was established by Counselor Troi during our last encounter with the anomaly that it was most likely an alternate-universe version of the Enterprise and its crew, it is possible that our relation to the anomaly caused it to… follow us, sir."

"Is that the best you can do?" demanded Commander Riker.

Data continued his analysis on the monitor. "It appears we have been leaving some kind of subspace signature behind us ever since our first encounter with the anomaly."

"What kind of signature? Why have we not detected this before?" asked the Captain.

Data raised an eyebrow, hands never leaving the console. "I do not understand these readings, Captain. It would appear that the signature is… biological in nature."

"Biological?" asked Picard. He glanced at Riker, whose face did not betray a shadow of understanding. There was no time for this. "Do we know the source of the attacks?"

"Based on the nature of the damage and the trajectory of the beam, the only possible explanation would be that it is coming from within the anomaly, sir."

"Do you mean this other Enterprise is firing on us?"

Data nodded.

"Sir," came a voice from behind them. "We are being hailed," said Lieutenant Worf.

"What the hell is going on here?" Riker asked, and Picard rose from his chair.

"Open a channel. On screen."

Crackles and snippets of voices filled the bridge. The viewscreen remained empty for a moment, and then it too displayed flashing cacophony of distorted images. The bridge was silent as every person present leaned in, squinting, trying to make sense of the picture.

"Mr. Worf, polarize the viewscreen," ordered Picard.

As the image became sharper, there it was, clear as day— the sound of Picard's own voice coming from the audio system.

"— fire— attention—"

"— I repeat—"

"— the organisms—"

"—- do not engage—"

And then it was over. The voice, the image, the anomaly… everything. The crew remained silent. The only movement was the steady crimson pulsing of the ship's alert.

"Cancel red alert," Picard said finally. "Analysis, Mr. Data."

"The anomaly is gone, sir. The sensors show no trace of it ever having been present."

"Shields?"

"Returning to maximum."

The captain nodded, though his concern was still evident. "Call all members of the senior staff to conference room B."

"You found her where?" asked Doctor Crusher, running the tricorder above Maria's unconscious form.

"Like I told you, Doc. She was just hanging there, by the fabric of her tunic, in the chamber connecting the Jeffries tubes through sections thirty-seven to forty-six. It's a miracle she didn't fall all the way down," said Geordi, arms folded across his chest. "What's weirder is this," he continued, and pulled out a phaser. "It was set to level sixteen."

Beverly pursed her lips as she saw the readings on her scanner. "In the state she's in, that would've been more than enough to kill her, had it accidentally gone off. It's lucky she didn't shoot herself in the leg."

"You got that right."

"Do you have any idea what she might have been doing in there?"

Geordi shook his head.

Beverly's breath caught in her throat. "Geordi, you've got to take a look at this," she said.

In the same moment, their comm badges chirped. "Doctor Crusher, Lieutenant Commander La Forge, please come to conference room B. The matter is urgent."

Geordi and the doctor shared a look before Beverly handed over the tricorder to one of her attending physicians. They had both had the same thought. The timing of it all— the attack, Geordi finding this girl hanging by a literal thread in the oddest of locations, and now what Crusher had just found coursing through her veins… It all happened too close together to have been a coincidence.

"Doctor, Lieutenant, please sit down," said Captain Picard. The pair nodded and settled into their seats. Data stood in the front of the room, behind him the wall lit up with a rendering of the apparently biological subspace trail the Enterprise had been emitting since their first encounter with the anomaly.

"The trail seems to be made up of a strain of microbes previously unknown to us," he began, gesturing at the screen. "I believe it is what allowed the parallel-universe Enterprise to track us to our current location. The reason for its appearance, however, remains a mystery."

"I believe I have some additional information on that, Captain," said Doctor Crusher, rising from her seat. "Although I'm afraid it raises more questions than it answers. Geordi brought Miss Maria Henriksson— Lieutenants Henriksson's daughter— into sickbay just moments after we were hit. She was dangling from the ladder leading through intersection chamber C37-46. A control panel was missing— cut away with a phaser, presumably by her— giving her direct access to the main computer array." She paused, looking hesitant.
The captain leaned forward in his chair in disbelief. "Go on, Doctor."

"I have reason to believe she was not in control of her actions. I'll have to run a full-body scan before I know for sure, but… It seems as though Miss Henriksson is infected with some sort of unknown virus that has taken control over most of her cognitive functions."

"And how do you suspect this is connected to this… microbe trail that seems to be following us?"

"The nature and timing of both these incidents. I would like your permission to collect a sample of the microbe-trail and cross-reference it with what I found on Miss Henriksson's scans."
"It appears to be our best shot at understanding the events of today. Thank you, Doctor. Proceed."

Meanwhile, several decks below and slightly to the right, Kayla had come to a decision.

Hello everyone! It's been a while. A lot has changed since I started writing this story, and it will definitely not go in the direction that it was initially going to when I was sixteen (four years ago now jesus), but don't worry- Lightning Strikes will be completed. Throughout my prolonged absences I've received messages that I should continue, and if I'm honest, those are 100% the reason why I'm back. It serious touches me so much how much you guys seem to be enjoying this. I know my writing style has probably changed over the last four years, and hopefully that's a good thing! I hope you guys enjoy. See you soon.

Note: I keep going back and editing this chapter because I'd forgotten how much the website changes my formatting after I click submit. Sorry for any missing story breaks- it reads really weird without them. Also, when I have some spare time, I will be going back and editing the previous chapters as well. And about what I said above... don't worry. It sounded as though the fic won't be what I intended it to be in the first place- a funny lil love story to warm our cold, cold hearts- but it will be. At least that's what I'm intending. So happy reading!