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"Lost in Universal Translation" Rating: PG-13 Author's Notes: Spoilers for ENT “Vox Sola”. Please leave a review! Thanks! Three After lunch, Porthos dragged Hoshi from the Mess Hall and through the corridors, with Jon ambling behind them. Hoshi reconsidered her initial impression of the little dog; Porthos had more strength than anyone gave him credit for. She'd be lucky if she didn't need her shoulder repaired after this. The beagle stopped in front of a door on B Deck, Junior Officers' Quarters. She looked at the nameplate over the door bell: Hoshi Sato, Ens. This must be her room. She gazed at the touchpad and wondered how to open the door, but her hand again came up and tapped in a code. The door slid open and Porthos shot inside like a cannon. Hoshi hurried in after him just before the doors shut. Soft lighting gave the cabin a warm, homey look. A set of curtains hung over the window (curtains, in space?) and pictures adorned the walls. She reached out and touched a scroll with bold characters written in black ink. Chinese: Ai. Love. Her fingers traced the lines again as she thought, How did I know that? Then she traced another character. Japanese. Ki. The spirit of all living things, known in Chinese as Chi, translated in English as Spirit. The bed was littered with datapads and old-fashioned books. Porthos sniffed the strange objects, but then he obediently sat on the pillow and laid his head down on it. Out of curiosity, she picked up one of the pads. Unfamiliar graphics popped up on the screen. Hoshi used the buttons to scroll and advance through the article, but nothing seemed familiar. Most of the other pads held similar information, cross-indexed and referenced with each other. Obviously, she'd been doing research before the incident...before... She frowned and put the pad down. Another memory stirred deep within. Translations. She had been doing translations from one language to another. That was her function here, to find meaning so others could understand. Hoshi narrowed her eyes at the neatly arranged columns on the screen. On one side was one kind of script, on the other was a completely different alphabet. What if these are equivalents to each other? What if there is a way to speak to them and have it converted into something they could understand? Her hands shook with excitement. Was it possible? Could she do it? Or, more precisely, could she remember how to do it? Carefully, she put the pad down on the bed and went to investigate the rest of the room. Her clothing hung neatly in the closet; she saw blue jumpsuits similar to what Jon, Trip, and the others wore. The ones that weren't jumpsuits varied in color and length. Apparently, she appreciated a wide range of color. To her surprise, she found a box of---chocolate---hidden in the top drawer of the bureau. Obviously, she enjoyed the food highly for her to hide it away from prying eyes. She methodically went through the drawers, the photos, the books. It was odd; this was her life, but to her, it was as if she was looking at the life of a stranger. None of the items jolted her memory. She tried to recall when was the last time she wore this garment, or where she had acquired this souvenir. Yet it was all a blank. It brought her a pang of sadness. Would she ever regain her memories? Then she made the mistake of looking up into the mirror on the bureau. A strangled shriek caught within her throat. Is that me? But...but...do I look like that? That's not possible! I can't look like that! She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, but the image stared back at her. Her almond shaped eyes registered shock and horror as she touched her face. In the main room, Porthos started howling at the top of his lungs. “Hoshi?” She snapped her head around as Jon stepped into her doorway. At the look on her face, he immediately grasped her arm. “What is it? What's wrong?” She looked again and shook her head wildly. “I don't look like that! I don't know who it is! Please tell me this is a nightmare and I'm going to wake up!” “Hoshi, that's your reflection.” Jon sounded confused. Of course; her features were similar to the others on this ship. This was her body, her hair, her eyes, her lips. She should have expected it. With an effort, she calmed her breathing and her heartbeat. Jon still looked concerned, so she managed a weak smile. It certainly didn't reassure him at all. “Sir, I called Phlox; he's on his way.” Malcolm stuck his head in, his blue-gray eyes mirroring his concern. “Is Hoshi all right? What happened?” “She saw something in the mirror,” Jon replied. “All I could see was her own reflection, but something frightened her.” Malcolm raised his eyebrows, then put a hand on her shoulder and asked, “Hoshi, what did you see?” “Me,” she replied as she opened her eyes. His touch steadied and calmed her; why did this man have such an effect on her? Automatically, she put his hand atop his and pointed at herself with the fingers of her free hand, “I saw me, but it isn't me.” It sounded schizophrenic; perhaps she was going mad. Malcolm glanced questioningly at Jon, but the captain seemed equally at a loss. Hoshi felt the frustration rising again, but then she remembered the pads on her bed, the translations. If there was any way to make herself understood..She ran back into the main room, grabbed one of the active datapads from the bed and fiddled with the controls. A green light indicated that it was ready to record audio input. Then she spoke directly into it. “I don't know what's happened to me, Malcolm. All I know is that this is Hoshi Sato's body, but my mind isn't quite sure it's really hers. Ever since I woke up, bits and pieces are coming back to me, but I still feel wrong. Like I don't belong here, but I know I should. I can't remember, I can't tell you anything, and it's frustrating to me.” Her fingers worked the pad's controls as if they'd done it since the beginning of time. She definitely had no conscious knowledge of its more complicated workings. The pad beeped in time with her entries and characters scrolled across the screen. Malcolm's face brightened as he realized what she was doing. “Hoshi's trying to translate her own speech,” he said. “If it matches something within the UT's database or Enterprise's records---” “Then we can identify what it is and possibly understand what she's trying to tell us,” Jon finished. He gazed at her as she concentrated on the pad; she saw his expression of awe and approval. He raised his eyebrows as if another idea had occurred to him. “You know who'd be a big help to her? T'Pol. Remember when we were swallowed up by that lifeform in the cargo bay our first year---” Malcolm winced; the captain Rostov, Trip and two others had nearly perished, but Hoshi had managed to talk to it in its own language and convince it to let them go, if Enterprise returned it to its homeworld. He and Hoshi had been at odds on how to settle the situation. In the end, Hoshi's solution had freed the prisoners without any lasting bodily harm. She'd been right, and Malcolm was both humbled and impressed by her steadfastness. “You're right, sir. Let's see if Hoshi's willing to let her help.” Hoshi listened to their conversation with only part of her attention, for she watched as the computer ran the unfamiliar words through some linguistic algorithms---algorithms, she recalled now, that she had written herself. Working on this translation galvanized her; she no longer felt helpless, for the first time since she'd woken up in Sickbay and spoken a language no one else knew. If she could crack this code... She was so involved in the process that she jumped when she saw Phlox next to her with a scanner in hand. She saw the corner of Malcolm's mouth twitch in humor and his eyes lit up with the smile that wasn't visible on his lips. “Her blood pressure and heart rate have gone up significantly, Captain, and I'm reading some strange activity from her cerebral cortex. I suggest we bring her back to Sickbay.” “Have T'Pol meet us there. Hoshi's trying to translate her own speech and match it with what we have in the database. If she's successful, we might be able to find out what's happened to her.” Hoshi heard T'Pol's name and recognized it, but the rest of the conversation wasn't significant to her. She found herself gazing at Malcolm's expression and thought, He's glad that I'm doing something useful, something that matters to me. I guess I've been morose since this all started. He encouraged her without words, and she only nodded at him. “Hoshi, if you'd follow me, please,” said Phlox. She sighed and looked at the other pads on the bed. Malcolm seemed to anticipate her thoughts and said, “I'll bring them, Hoshi.” He gathered them up with a minimum amount of fuss. Hoshi noticed that he wasted no movement at all, like a dancer or an athlete. For some reason, she felt her face grow hot and she gripped the edge of the pad she was holding. Hoshi followed Phlox, thinking, What is going on? Why am I feeling this way? “The language she is speaking is not in the database,” T'Pol said, as she surveyed the results of Hoshi's search. “The syntax is also not similar to any language that we currently know.” “Then how are we going to figure it out?” Malcolm asked, with a shade of impatience. “If nothing matches it in the database---” “Then we need to acquire enough of a sample for analysis. If Ensign Sato has regained her skill set, then she could use them to find familiar patterns within the speech..” T'Pol turned to Hoshi and gave her a nod. “I have confidence in the ensign's abilities.” The Vulcan's tone was as dry as ever, but Hoshi heard a note of respect within it. T'Pol inclined her head towards the nearby computer; Hoshi nodded assent. T'Pol went to it and set up the programs. A voice interrupted, “Tucker to the Cap'n.” Jon crossed over to the speaker in the wall. “Archer.” “Cap'n, we've completed the analysis of the shuttlepod that Hoshi was in. I think you and Malcolm should get down here.” He and Malcolm exchanged looks, then Jon replied, “On our way, Trip. Archer out.” Jon glanced at T'Pol and told her, “Keep me informed on your progress.” “Yes, Captain.” Hoshi looked up as the three men headed for the Sickbay doors. Malcolm gave her a look that said, I'll be back as soon as I can. Then he was gone. She felt an odd pang of loss, but dismissed it as she regarded her pad again. Porthos leaped onto the biobed next to her and settled in as if he expected to be there for some time. She smiled at him; he was affectionate and loyal. Little wonder that Jon had brought him. Phlox kept a close eye on her vital signs. Although they weren't at dangerous levels, her blood pressure and heart rate were both higher than he'd liked. A hypospray of medicine had evened out the readings, but his worry was plain to see. Hoshi felt another bout of lightheadedness, and there was a tingling feeling in her fingers, but she chalked it up to excitement at finally doing something to help her situation. But she couldn't stop the nagging worry that she needed to solve this mystery before it was too late. |
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