Can You Say 'Nexus'?

As Neria addressed the group on the bridge, a young man rushed in from the turbolift, adjusting his uniform – blue-eyed, human apparently; blond hair brought out the yellow of his uniform collar, sporting a single silver pip.  "Sorry I'm late," he said with a mix of sheepish smile and conscientious wince.

Turning in a half-circle, Neria awaited a response to her question.  No one said anything – perhaps stunned to silence, just like the pronouncement back at the dinner that they were even going on such a mission.  She said, "Meet Jackson West, the new assistant security chief assigned at starbase.  According to Doc Brisk, Lieutenant Tueri's unexpectedly come down with – something."  She wondered if those two squirrelly chefs had anything to do with it, imagining an allergic reaction to getting dunked in cake.  Tueri had told her all about it.  "Tueri will be on ice for a while.  West will act as chief of security in his place, so everyone work with him."  She looked at West.  "Can you handle that, Ensign?"

Jackson seemed to have caught her last line as he entered, so Neria went to continue.  Then Lieutenant Diaz spoke up: "I have a question, Captain."

Neria hesitated as an uncomfortable ripple went through her.  It was still taking getting used to, being called 'captain'.  "Yes, Mr. Diaz."

"Ma'am, how will we get there?  Altair is an A-type star; nothing special.  It lacks the necessary mass for a slingshot maneuver."

Neria nodded.  "I know.  It's not Altair we're interested in.  What we are interested in is called 'the Nexus' – a moving gateway across time and space.  Starfleet's mapped its route for the last century; it'll pass near Altair in about thirty hours.  We have until then to figure out a way in.  Few ships have ever survived an encounter with the Nexus.  It's surrounded by an energy ribbon generating massive gravimetric shockwaves.  And then if we do find a way in, we have to have a plan for getting back out, ship and all.  Twice, in fact – going there and coming back.  It won't be easy, and not just for the gravimetric shear.  According to reports, being within the Nexus is, and I quote, 'like being inside joy – as if joy was something tangible and you could wrap yourself up in it, like a blanket.'  It conjures your deepest dreams and desires... your fondest fantasies... whatever makes you most happy and content – and it all seems entirely real.  At least so I've read, in a report filed by Captain Picard.  We may feel a pull to remain in whatever little fantasies our minds cook up for us, a la the Nexus.  But it isn't real.  Everyone, remember that.  You may have to will yourself out.  If you want it to end, it will – and, from what I gather, you'll find yourself where you're supposed to be.  But, in case that isn't enough..."  Neria tapped her communicator.  "Send him in."

The group turned as a tall, slender alien with thick, two-fingered hands strode in, from the forward junction access corridor.  He was bald, with upraised ridges around his eyes and forehead.  "Everyone, meet Frank," Neria said.  "Don't ask why he's called Frank... frankly, I don't know."  She winced at her words, and diverted attention with a questioning glance at the humanoid.  He offered a small, amused smile.

"Our names are unpronounceable by humanoid tongues," he said.  He had a soft, unassuming voice and gentle nature.  "Frank is the name given to me by the Starfleet liaison.  I believe it has something to do with a book written by a human author, called 'Frankenstein', though I am not entirely certain.  I hail from the system known on your charts as Tau Alpha C."

Neria nodded – good enough.  "Frank will be helping us along.  His people have special insights into the relationship between time, space and thought.  If anyone gets 'stuck' in the Nexus, he can guide you out.  He'll also play a part in the actual trip through time.  Avi, work with him."