ULC 29 Entry Thread: Temporal Intrigue

aten66 · November 2016

Welcome to the twenty-ninth edition of the Unofficial Literary Challenge: "Temporal Intrigue"! It seems like everyone's disappeared, so I decided to pop out the ULC this month.

As some of these are older submissions, please feel free to update to more current in-game lore as you see fit.

"Muunitnoc Q"
By Me

Perhaps it was just boredom, perhaps he was just lazy, but Q is knocking on your door again. At least you assume so, when you find yourself in the Sol System, just in orbit around Luna. You're quite surprised however, when a Q unlike any you've ever seen before appears before you, wearing the same robes all Q have seemed to wear, though with one difference: This one bears the insignia of the Terran Empire's predecessor.

He's also come to you with a game. Solve the oldest question in the Terran History books, or in 24 hours risk exposing yourself to the Vulcan ship that will pass through this system, discover your ship adrift, and pollute both the Vulcan's and Terran Empire's respective future.

"Mouse Problems"
By ladyravenstein

A pest has snuck aboard your ship somehow. Maybe some mice or saurian rats or Rigelian lice. Either way they are annoying and you need to get rid of them. How would you go about doing this?

"The Next Generation"
By moonshadowdark

While exploring in the Azure Nebula, you come across a temporal anomaly. As you are scanning it, the anomaly ruptures and you discover a ship coming through it. The captain opens a hail to you and reveals that they are from the 26th century and that their ship is your ship's successor! Write a log about the experience. What was the future crew like? What has changed aboard the new vessel? What is the same? Are you still aboard it?

"There is no Spoon"
By sander233

"What if I told you, that everything you've seen, everything you've done since taking command of your first ship, has been a simulation?" Whether you are plugged in to a Dominion mind scanner or lost in a Section 31 holodeck or someplace even more sinister is not known. But your mysterious guide shows you how you can do things you know to be impossible in the real world. Is he telling you the truth? Are you living someone else's fantasy? Or is your guide misleading you for some terrible purpose? "Have you ever had a dream, that you were so sure was real? What if you were unable to wake from that dream? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?"

As usual, no NSFW content.

The discussion thread is here.

The LC Submission thread is here

Index of previous ULCs:

aten66 · November 2016

There Are Four Ships

U.S.S. Highwayman

Walking down the halls of the Ouroboros with Nilota, his Borg first officer, Drake nods to a lone Ensign who is leaning against a wall, looking out through the windows at the stars beyond them. HE resumes his conversation as they begin to pass him by.

"What if I told you that everything you've seen, everything you've done since taking command of your first ship, has been a simulation?" the Ensign in gray asks aloud to Drake, casuing him to pause.

"Adams, isn't it?" Drake says in response, looking up from his in-depth conversation with Nilota about the heat death of the universe, focusing on the young adult now at his side while the Romulan moves on, "Adams, what do you mean?" Ensign Adams smiles for a moment, before looking around cautiously. Turning to Drake, he leans in and gets in close to whisper in his ear.

"Don't you remember Darix?" Adams whispers quietly, "Who forgets their brother's super villain name?" Drake stands there for a second, before chuckling.

"Honestly, who told you that?" Drake asks, standing back and smiling at the joke, "I know Nilota knows, but she wouldn't have told anyone... what did you do, break into the ships black box crewmember files?" Shaking his head Drake goes to pat the man on the shoulder. "My brother was a hero, he went by the name Dark Storm, your info is way out of date," Drake says, "Seriously, how did you know that though?"

Ensign Adams looks disinterested at Drake's response, and sighs. "Honestly, I was going to see how Gregs was going to deal with his Odellian Cricket infestation, or see how Berg was dealing with his future, but you're... something else," Adams says, "You laugh everything off, dismiss everyone who thinks they know a lot of your 'mysterious' past; did you ever stop to ask if your story was wrong?"

"Wrong; what, I fell through a portal into a parallel universe I cracked open in my mistake, I died only to be returned to this universe to complete whatever mission I was sent here to finish," Drake replies puzzled, "I stopped the Iconians with help from the future, I kept Klingons from destroying the Federation, we made an alliance with said former enemies and Romulan allies after exposing a decades long conspiracy, fought over the deadliest molecule in this universe, and even now forge a brighter future with our actions!"

"Wow, every letter to the script I see," Adams says, holding a bound paper volume, where once there was none earlier, "Yep 'Iconians, blah blah blah, decades long conspiracy, etc, etc, etc', just like I thought, you have script dependency." Humming to himself, Adams pauses and smiles. "I know just how to clear that," he says, "Let's have a change of scenery!" Snapping his fingers, the world spins around Drake.

\\

U.S.S. Praetorian

Drake walks down the halls of the echoing Chronos with Leeta, his holographic First Officer. The Terran program had been salvaged from his previous ship, the I.S.S. Clockwork, and she helped him a lot with operating and running the ships massive systems. He had just begun to get into conversation about White Holes and the theory of why there seemed to be very few in the Milky Way galaxy, when he began to get a sense of familiarity as he walked the hallway. Junction 35-A, section 47-9, Deck 6... Why wasn't there a window in this hallway?

"Becasue you have about three rooms and another hallway before you can see out into space, Drake," a new voice says from further up the hallway, "The schematics are different then your last ship, for sure." Drake now notices an Ensign in gray, leaning against a wall and looking towards him. "The name is Adams, by the way, if you've forgotten it," Ensign Adams says, "Ensign Austin Adams, but can call me 'Tex'; I let all my friends call me by that nickname."

"Ensign, I don't know who you think you are," Leeta says, now marching up to him, "But we are your superior officers, speak to us with a little more respect!" Adams looks up at her, clearly showing disinterest, before turning back to Drake.

"You have a bad taste in women, man, this one's more pushy than your last girlfriend," he says chuckling, as Leeta fumes, "Oh, don't worry Leeta, it's not you, I know you're just following your 'programming', I expect he is too." Leeta was about to say another word, before Adams snaps his fingers, and the women is gone, Drake takes this as an alarm. "Don't worry Drake, she's just a few levels down now, it'll take her some time to make it back up to this level," 'Tex' says, "Just let me ask you this, since you noticed similarities already, what else is different?"

Drake pauses at his questioning, before going off a list in his head. Something about his comment about Leeta as First Officer, his last one had been Nilona, but after the child and the Kelvin Klingon's, Drake didn't want her to worry too much, that's why she stepped down from... Drake stops, feeling his hand shake and tremble, as he turns to look in the reflective surface of the wall. While muddled in reflective possibility, the mirror of the scar over his right eye stares back, when the Klingon had brought the Bat'leth down and Drake and temporarily lost his vision until a cybernetic eye had been made for him as a replacement.

"What did you do?" Drake asks, as he begins to see red seep into his vision, fighting nausea and the urge to lose his lunch. 'Tex' feigns his innocence, looking away from the shocked, yet enraged, expression that Drake was giving him.

"Me, I didn't do anything, it was you after all, who went ahead while the others had been planting that bomb," 'Tex' continues, "You fought with gusto, but that Klingon played dirty and knocked your leg out from under you; you're the one who went off script by going on ahead, you paid the price... but you want to know what I find funny?" Tex leans down and moves to whisper in his ear. Drake strains to hear what the man is saying, but the red is blinding him, while the ringing in his ears is drowning his hearing. His world swims in front of him once more... had this...

\\

U.S.S. Light

Pausing, gasping for breath as he tries to control the panic attack he had just been hit with, his Kobali engineer tries to steady him in the Eternal-classes halls. Once she sets him down in the hallway, she tells him she is going to get the doctor, especially since the class-nine ion storm made it to hazardous to keep everything but minimal functions online. This Time Drake has a feeling of Deja Vu, and fights to look at where he is at. The placard above him read: Junction 35-A, Section 47-9, Deck 6. Looking down the hallway, even in the minimal light Drake can see the figure of a man wearing a gray Section uniform. At least this time he could see the man's face, since the raging storm around the ship lit up in intervals, as bolts of energy clashed in the storm like a roaring thunderhead, spouting hundreds of bolts of lighting at once.

He remembered some of the storms back home, Rhode Island didn't seem to get many, but when they did they were awe inspiring. "True; I'm an northwesterner myself, California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, I've seen all the weather at its worst over that side," Ensign Adams says, "Always wanted to see the Texas weather myself, see how the thunder rolls off Route 66, and how the lightning strikes...humph." The Ensign is now standing over Drake, offering him a hand, which he warily takes. "Honestly, you seem to be taking this all in better than I had hoped, but I can't say I'm too surprised with your track record with alternate dimensions," he now says to Drake, "Portals, portals everywhere, and not a home to see."

Looking out at the storm outside, Austin Adams and Drake Stormbaucher, watch as the energy rolls on by. "Why are you doing this?" Drake asks the man, "I can feel myself slipping away, or trying to at least, and I can tell you're doing this to me." Drake looks to the man, whose smiling face in the dim lights, ever so often lit up by the flash from outside, is truly scary.

"What if I told you that everything you've seen, everything you've done since taking command of your first ship, has been a simulation?" Austin, no-Tex responds, "Would it change your world view, could you try to change your past, would you make a different choice?" At Drake's silence, the man continues. "What about Captain Brott, could you have saved her crew from radiation poisoning if you were a Science officer, or save her ship if you were an Engineer, like you always wanted to be?" Tex asks, "Choices, choices always matter: whether you let a Ferengi live or die as a show of faith, or whether you chance it facing the Voth alone, or using Iconian defenses against them, or even whether or not in interrogating a Na'kuhl agent you insult her or manage to impress her with your observational skills..."

"If I could do it all over again, what would it matter if the choices were the same?" Drake responds, "I would still be me, and however much it hurt me, I would still try and make the same decisions, as best I could, no matter the cost." Tex looks toward Drake and smiles softly.

"Perhaps you say that now, but what if you didn't have a choice, if subtle manipulations were what mattered?" Tex responds, "The Sphere Builders, for instance, can manipulate a timeline so subtly, the only difference could be a uniform, a scar, a crewmember; but it could be all they need to win their war." Drake begins to shake again, this time slipping from his upright position, as his breathing becomes shallow and fast, and the pounding in his head returns. He's trying to hear but he just can't...

Has this all happened before?

\\

U.S.S. Cole

Drake rushed through the Paladin hallways, as the ship was under fire from the Sphere Builder Arehbes, the Quorum piloted by the traitorous turncoat Captain Drake once called a brother. Drake was stuck on Deck Six, and was running through Junction 35-A, when he stumbled upon the worst sight he ever could have imagined. Chroniton warhead fragments were impaled around the form of a bloodied Ensign, who was bleeding out to shrapnel from initial impact. "Stay with me Ensign," Drake says, throwing caution to the wind and approaching the (hopefully) inactive warheads.

"Captain, the~haser platform is ready for laun-" the choppy voice of his First Officer, the 0718 Model he had named 'Mr. Zero', who had been recovered from a Sphere Builder vessel, says, "Our ship is damaged, the heavy phaser platform is our last ditch hope of escape from-" Drake panics for a moment, as more explosions wrack the already damaged ship. It wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't already been attacked by a Eudolg and a Terran Mobius, they were just unlucky to have been attacked again by a weaker ship, which had the ability to potentially destroy them with the damage they had received.

"Not now Doug, we have a bigger problem if these inactive warheads blow out into space," Drake responds, "Launch the platform and hold our ground, destroy that ship, or else we get killed one way or another by it." The ship slows, and Drake turns to the dying ensign, deciding to comfort him in his final moments. "Tell me about yourself?" Drake asks, but the man can't really say much, not with where a piece of shrapnel had hit his neck, "My name is Nathaniel Stormbaucher, commonly known as Drake; I am a transplant from another universe, got myself stuck here, leaving behind my brother Darix Storm; he was a villain last I had checked, and we lived in Rhode Island..."

The injured man chuckles, a wet and gasping sound, but Drake smiled all the same. "What if I told you that everything you've seen, everything you've done since coming onboard of your first ship, has been a simulation?" Drake says, trying to distract the man, "I mean, it's entirely possible with all those Dominion mind scanners out there, and don't get me started about Section 31..." The man looks up, and Drake recognizes him underneath the grime and blood, as ship debris had hit him hard at closer look. "Adams right... a lot of people call you Route 66, because you're from Austin... I'd say Tex fits you better," Drake says, noticing the pale color on the man's face, "Listen Tex, you better make it through this with me, who am I going to play poker with next Tuesday?"

The ship shudders one last time, before it all goes silent. Drake can only assume it means they were successful in taking out the ship, and good riddance for it. "Hey look, we can get the ships systems online, an get you help," Drake says, as he goes to connect to his First officer, "Mr. Zero, I need molecular reconstruction online, we have potentially live ammo on Deck Six, section 47-9, Junction 35-A, and it needs to be hard vacuumed." It's just static for a few seconds, and as it goes by, Drake's dread heightens just as much.

"Roger, sir, but I can't get a very good reading on you, internal bio-sensors are down from the attack, but we can track your combadge," Mr. Zero says, "Just activate the distress beacon and we'll get you out of there in no time~" The system cuts to static, losing internal communication once more.

"S-sir, that may be a problem," Ensign Adams says weakly from his position, "My badge- my stuff, it was destroyed in the first explosion- I- I think you need to go on without me..." Suddenly the doors seal shut around the section, as the whir of mechanics sound the activation of the molecular reconstruction. Drake frowns for a moment, before reaching for his commbadge, removing it and activating the distress beacon. "But sir-" Adams begins to say, "Will it be able to recognize both of us?"

"Don't worry about that, it's a special pin, I just had it upgraded last week when we were stopped off at Utopia Planitia," Drake says, pinning it to the injured ensigns frame, "It'll take both of us, it has a prototype pattern enhancer in it, just enough to make a weak field that will encompass both of us..." Drake halts as he hears the whir of nanotech condensing transparent aluminum for reuse, opening the atmosphere to hard vacuum. "Now Lieutenant, whatever happens in the next five seconds, I want you to know, it was fun knowing you, for however brief it was," Drake says, as the now Lieutenant eyes widen, "Keep the fight going, and remember, no matter how bad it gets, just ask yourself: What if I told you that everything was..." The atmosphere escapes, stealing the last words on his lips, as the Lieutenant pinned down by shrapnel, is the only one left as the warhead fragments and Drake are blown out of the ship.

Lieutenant Adams sees one last Chroniton warhead fragment catch in the ship, and he smiles at the irony, as the ship begins to close itself back up, and he feels the pull of the transporter. The signal never even reached the transporter really, as the warhead blew up as transportation took hold, destabilizing the pattern and losing the last few seconds of reality, all destroyed by Sphere Builder weaponry.

The floating body of Drake is blown away in the quantum blast, as the remaining fragments either freeze or blow up, propelling the body further and further away. Frozen eyelashes open, as the spinning form of the ship is lost to the stars spinning around his head, arms of the galaxy shining brightly in the void of space. By sheer will the frozen body slows to a stop, watching the stars from afar, and the retreating speck where once was a ship. "Was this my death?" he asks, voice frozen and hollow, "Tell me, did it mean much after I went back?" The stars seem to ripple and coalesce, as a void of darkness opens and closes, showing the form of Lieutenant Adams, this time wearing the elegant jacket of a Federation dignitary.

"This was one possible death, yes, but like you said," Adams replies, a hint of bitterness in his voice, "You got better." Adams notices the frozen eyelashes had melted into free forming water in zero gravity, poking a bubble, it breaks apart and moves further apart. "It's why you drew me to you," Adams says, "You broke time and space, you imprisoned the botfly that is Trelane, you gave me enough power to break free in my final moments, break free of reality itself." He crosses his arms and turns around to face Drake.

"And you became something else," Drake says, "A fourth dimensional being, perhaps, or something Q-like..." Drake smiles, and crosses his legs, sitting across from the staring man on an invisible plane. "I'm glad to know I made a difference for you," Drake says, "I tried to save you, but why come back now?"

"A crisis of conscience, if you will, Captain," Adams says, "Specifically, yours; about your future, about your past, about your sideways views." Stepping down, a hallway begins to form, an the feeling of gravity forces Drake to shift to a standing position, as the familiar gray hallway surrounds them. "So tell me Captain, what is your answer?" Lieutenant Adams says, "What do you say?"

\\

U.S.S. Highwayman

Drake is walking down the empty hallway, alone, and he pauses at Junction 35-A, Section 47-9. "I'd do it all the same again, buddy," he says, "And I'd still never regret it." Moving on, with some closure, Drake returns to his normal life.

aten66 · November 2016

U.S.S. Titanite, Chronos-Class

Hydroponics

"So you're telling me that somehow, Odellian crickets came in on a shipment from a Vulcan florist based on Risa?" Gregs says, voice raised among the cacophony of noise assaulting his ears, "How did they reproduce so fast?" Covering his sensitive ears from the assaulting noise, Gregs looks to the head botanist, a Lieutenant named Ortensia.

"Well, the florist had gotten a mixed up shipment from some Ferengi that was too cheap to pay for separate containers, a shipment that was supposed to go to an ornithologist got partially mixed up with the florists own supply of Denobulan Lilies," the botanist replies, "It appears some crickets that had mated got loose within the establishment and planted various eggs at the base of flowers; the Florist hadn't noticed this, and apparently caught on to it only after they had already sent the sample of flowers they were cultivating for the classroom onboard, when it had been reclaimed at our last stop a week ago."

The noise picks up in pace and volume, cricket chirping loud enough to make someone go deaf after such a long amount of time within the room, hastening the retreat of Gregs and the senior botanist into the outer corridor. "How is it that the crickets didn't hatch as they were transporting; that order was supposed to have been finished a month ago by the report you gave me," Gregs replies, "Why hadn't Miss Orwitz or T'Pela tell me the order got delayed, we could have requested shore leave and picked up the flowers personally, since everything has quieted down for now." The botanist bites her thumb in nervousness.

"Well, you see sir, the same Ferengi has been under watch by the trade market for illegal dealings, and as the order of flowers was resent through his ship as compensation for the trouble to the florist, his cargo had been seized for a week for inspection and processing," she replies, "Besides the fact Odellian crickets actually take three weeks to hatch and a week to mature, so by the time we got them they still would have hatched had we gotten the shipment personally and not done proper scanning." Gregs rubs the bridge of his nose, before sighing and turning to the hydroponics bay door controls.

"Until further notice, the bay is locked down until we can get rid of our pest problem, no one in or out until we have a solution," Gregs says, "And please have T'Pela and Orwitz be ready to meet me in half an hour so we can discuss how to solve this problem, as this was a mistake; it still would be proper if they consult with you on ways to salvage this before the crickets either consume everything or co-populate, causing more troubles down the road." The senior botanist nodded and left to do as asked, leaving Gregs alone, the chirps of the crickets still audible behind the door. "Why do these things happen to me?" he mutters, "I'd rather be facing down my future legacy or making friends with an omnipotent imp, rather than having my ship infested by crickets... why would a Ferengi ship an ornithologist's order together with a bunch of flowers?"

\\ 30 Minutes Later

Sitting in a side area of the classroom where a two way mirror was, his arms crossed, Gregs waits for T'Pela to take over for Henrietta Orwitz, as she was the classroom teacher's aid. Miss Orwitz promptly leaves the care of her class within the Vulcan's capable hands, and quickly joins the Captain. She takes a seat opposite of Gregs, who had turned to watch the kids as they began to work on mathematics. "Captain, I hope you know it was never the classes intention for the ship to become infested, but the plants we got were supposed to be shipped separately in stasis because of their fragile nature," she says to the alien man, "The kids were already disappointed to hear they wouldn't get to care for the Denobulan Lilies, but they were devastated to learn that the hydroponics bay could be ruined because of a simple mistake; some of the children's botanical science projects were being grown with Lieutenant Ortensia's supervision."

She looks worried for a moment, before Gregs returns his gaze toward Henrietta. "Did you think I was punishing you for this?" he asks, "We can easily replace anything lost, nothing was of vital importance we can't pick up from some other planet; no, I just came here today to give you a bit of, uh, an 'extra credit' assignment for your class..." Henrietta perks up at this, eyes wide with confusion at not getting scolded. "Yes, I was wondering if your class would mind spending a day figuring out information about the little pest we've picked up," Gregs says, picking up a half-hidden container with a covering on it, which he removes to reveal a pair of Odellian crickets, "These two just so happened to get caught, and I figured they'd make a great pair of pets for your class, and a bit of an, uh, incentive for your pupils help in finding a solution to our pest problem."

"Why, I think I could do that!" she replies joyfully, taking a peek at the two crickets in the soundproofing habitat, "But is there anything else you could tell us about them?" Gregs ponders for a second, before snapping his finger.

"Yes, why would an ornithologist need these kind of crickets?" Gregs says, "He was based of Risa, so I believe he would be a trainer of some kind." Taking the case in ehr hands, she thanks Gregs and takes her leave, as Gregs watches from the mirror, as excited kids gather around their new pets.

\\

"An ornithologist would most likely be wanting the crickets as snacks for his birds," a Rigellian girl reports, Gregs standing as he watches the short reports having been given, "They are high in protein and if kept alive, would satisfy a bird's predatory instinct if they haven't been fully domesticated yet." The girl bows at the clapping, before sitting down, this time an Andorian boy getting up. So far Gregs had learned about Orella's climate, the natural predators of the cricket, its closest relative in the Earth terrestrial cricket, its culinary use in Orella colonist's cuisine, and now why a Risan Ornithologist would have needed the crickets.

"Thank you, everyone," Gregs says getting up, "I think you've all helped me figure out just the solution I needed for my pest problem!" Trying not to interrupt the Ansoridan boy, he looks to Henrietta and smiles. "And, on to p of helping me solve my problem, I do believe I think you all get an extra special field trip today in say, oh," Gregs says checking the time, "Three quarters of an hour?" Nodding at Gregs, he quickly takes his leave to a hallway that's barely seen him since its installation.

\\ Hydroponics

Standing in front of the room with various covered cages of some sort, a Risan and Benzite officer accompany Gregs, who holds his own cage in his hand, the mystery occupant rustling inside. As the group approaches, Lieutenant Ortensia at the lead with Miss Orwitz, and T'Pela bringing up the rear of the gaggle of children, they stop in awe at the mysterious welcome.

"Thank you all for coming, and I hope you had fun with this unusual assignment, but I thought it would be fun to show you some of your work in action," Gregs says, "I managed to place a few holographic camera's inside, which will manage to capture information in real-time." Placing his cage down, he nods to the two men, who then enter the room and seal it behind them. "Now, if you'll all follow me, I believe Holodeck Three has been specially reserved for this little event," Gregs says, "Won't this be a fun surprise?"

\\ Holodeck Three

Once in Holodeck Three, the children naturally walk around the holographic cgaes and the two men, though naturally they are unaware. Tapping his combadge, Gregs opens a channel. "Wave at them, you're on!" he says, as the two men reflexively wave, "Release the birds!" At that five cages are uncovered and open, and five multicolored blurs of feathers burst out into the room, flying around, before swooping in and around the room. Five different Risian birds, all specimens Gregs had collected for the taxonomical project on deck fifteen, aka the miniature zoo, settled for a moment as the children got a look at their brilliant plumage.

Various blues, blacks, reds, and many other colors of feathers settled and moved as birds hopped and flitted about. The cries of delight brought a warm smile to his face from the children's awe, as the birds took to the feast before them, targeting the crickets off one by one. He may not have had a start to the best week ever, but he had to say this was the highlight of his day,

aten66 · November 2016

The Long Road

"The Divine Image"
by William Blake, Songs of Innocence

For Mercy has a human heart
Pity a human face:
And Love the human form divine.
And Peace the human dress.
...

Sol System, 2063
Dark side of Luna
U.S.S. Pleiades

Tekhav sits in his chair, as this divine being, claiming to be a Q, continues to spout on and on. While the Vulcan could handle one Q, not to mention the Female one that occasionally comes instead, this one was completely new and quite worrisome. He wore the robes commonly associated with a period of Earth's dark ages- post WWIII, though it was the symbolic chain necklace that had him worried. The golden eagle medallion was unfamiliar to this era as Tekhav knew, but he recognized the dagger and the earth behind it as a common Terran Empire insignia. Tekhav had enough sense to realize this was probably the Q that normally bothered the Mirror Universe, and knowing this, he has figured this new Q had taken them to the 'Mirror' Universe, home to the Terran Empire.

"And I have a game for you," the Q says, interrupting Tekhavs musings, "It's an archeological game, something you explorers and peace keepers no doubt would appreciate, and the topic of intrigue is: How and when did the first Terran Rebellion begin?" The Q looks smug, as the bridge crew is silent, with Tekhav staring the crazed deity down.

"A game?" Tekhav states, voice quite neutral, "You pulled me from a survey of the Draconis 20 system, quite abruptly I might add, just to do historical research you already know?" Tekhav puts his hand to his forehead, massaging the forming headache away.

"Not only that, but you have a timed deadline to finish it, as well, as tomorrow is the eve of the day of Terra's First Contact and seizure of their first Vulcan ship," Mirror Q says, "and you have twenty four hours to find an answer, unless you wish to contaminate this timeline, and probably earn the wrath of the Terran Empire in the process, as temporal units will no doubt be sent to destroy your ship long before it can pollute their timeline!" He says it cheerily, a smirk on his face all the while, and Tekhav does everything to keep himself from trying to murder this Q in front of him.

"Very well then, Q, since I doubt you'll do anything to send us back if we refuse, we'll play your little game," Tekhav says, "But I doubt you'll have chosen this task if there wasn't some hidden agenda, so I tell you now, if we win your game and you do not send us back, if we were just some cog in your cosmic chess game for you to sacrifice, I will do everything in my power to obliterate you or the planet below, whichever I manage to do first." Q has a vicious and gleeful smile on his face, as he giggles in madness.

"Feisty; I see you're not as Vulcan as I expected Mr. Tekhav, that V'Shar past of yours has really influenced your morals..." the Q says, "Then again, killing all those enemies of yours, it's no doubt hard for your Federation to stay so black and white anymore." With a snap of his fingers, Q is gone and Tekhav sinks back into his seat, sighing.

// 21 Hours Remaining

"What have you found?" Tekhav asks his Senior Officers around the ships conference table, looking to each one in turn. T'Met, the chief science officer speaks up.

"Technologically, the era is exactly as it would be in our time, though it seems WWIII wasn't as deadly here, not with what the Greene Party made up with it's global genocide program," T'Met says, "Small pockets of civilizations like the Khanate seem to still hold power, as does whatever passes as Government in the North American continent, otherwise the areas of Korea, a small area of Russia, and the Australian continent, have all but been wiped out by nuclear weaponry in this world." T'Met stops and turns to Penn'i, the Medical officer.

"Oddly enough, these people have some advanced medical technology, at least compared to our era," Penn'i states, "The Khanate made Augmentation freely available to everyone who was genetically 'pure', and in turn it helped kick start fields of science and the art of war in turn." The man turns to the screen and brings up images of different articles pulled from the planets technological infrastructure. "The Greene Party was openly welcomed when it offered promises to 'help' the victims of cellular radiation damage, though it ended up with global 'cleansing' efforts being promoted by the Khanate, approved by the European Coalition, and funded by the current Tsar of the Russia Republic, which led to the first 'Cleansing' at the start of WWIII and a 'Period of Strengthening', in which all wars are to cease for twenty years; it seems all parties knew more war would only end up killing Earth, as they all began to rebuild their own power bases." Now the head of the Tactical department speaks up.

"It's quite interesting, at least from what I'm reading of this interpretation of history so far, the new Russian Republic which results from this strengthening becomes the new center of commerce, while the Khanate jointly forms the basis of Terran government and science," Kiera Reese says, "While the Greene party is overthrown sometime in between, with the resulting government that replaces Greene's regime becoming the basis for the Terran Empire's engineering and military might, while it suffered heavily under Greene's rule they do come into possession of the Vulcan ship under Cochrane's rule and hold power over the others, until the Terran Empire's version of the United Earth Government comes into rule four months from now."

"So basically, it's almost exactly what we already know about their history from captured intelligence files and our own investigations," Tekhav replies, sighing slightly, "What are we missing... what is different then our history, something lost, and is something we had that they would've had too?" This time the Tellarite who was chief of engineering speaks up, Per Dagon.

"What about Carbon Creek, or even the Roswell Incident?" he offers, "Both events were formative to how Earth culture accepted Aliens; the Roswell incident sparked a cultural following in the namesake city, while Carbon Creek showed the Vulcans how Earth people had developed at the turn of the century." Tekhav ponders back to the tales of Carbon Creek, Elder T'Pol's second foremother had survived that incident in the records, and humanity in the prime timeline hadn't been very accepting at that time.... The potential that the Mirror version of these events had been less fortunate was something disturbing to think about, and yet current reports state T'Pol existed in the Mirror universe, or at least a version of her.

"The Roswell incident still appears to have occurred, but there seems to be discrepancies about it; perhaps the lack of Rom, Quark, and Nog at the incident had a ripple effect in the Mirror Universe," the Donnie Hume, the chief of security, offers, "Roswell was basically the start of Section 31, change one detail, perhaps the Terran equivalent never rose to power; then again with all the upheaval it was remarkable the Terran's survived their WWIII..." Tekhav pauses at that and comes to a realization, thinking back over old history reports he had read up on the Enterprise, and their encounters with a civilization of ancient aliens called the Aegis, and the fact they had a less scrupulous faction within their ranks.

"Time travelers, of course," Tekhav concludes, "They must have some kind of temporal benefactor keeping them alive; logically Gary Seven's Terran analogue or perhaps someone sent by Leeta to ensure she could rise to power in the Empire..." Tekhav faces the chief of operations, Pleiades. "Could you reconfigure our sensors to passively scan the planet for energy systems that shouldn't exist, or places our scanners can't pick up that aren't due to natural interference," Tekhav orders, "No doubt whoever is hiding wants their presence kept secret, and would still try to obscure their presence with dampening fields."

"I'll get right on it sir," the female Android replies, as Tekhav dismisses the rest. Standing up, the group departs, leaving Tekhav alone with his thoughts. Turning to the computer, he hesitates to follow through with his stray thought.

"Computer, access Vulcan archives, subject tagging: 'Mestral', 'Cochrane', and 'Carbon Creek'," Tekhav orders, the computer pinging in return, "Bring up files regarding Mestral's return to Vulcan." The computer complies and searches for relevant files, bringing them up to the Vulcan's fingertips.

//

"Well, I believe I now know why this world's interactions differ with our history, their Roswell incident involved something more akin to Earth fictions involving invasions," the Operations officer states, "They publicly denounce the event ever happened, but the stories of 'Grey's' and similar reports to Earths early conspiracies seem to line up as best they could at this point in time in culture." Offering a PADD to Tekhav, he takes it and scans over its contents. "But, that's not all," the female android continues, "Look up what happened around the time the Carbon Creek incident occurred here..." Tekhav scans the passage and arches an eyebrow in surprise.

"It appears a massive meteor shower appeared over Carbon Creek, and the military took interest when the area took damage and destroyed a small mining operation," Tekhav says, "Perhaps the ship's systems failed more catastrophically than in our version of events." He notices that the area surrounding the former Carbon Creek mining operation was heavily shielded, though the small town seemed to still exist even through a third world war. "Perhaps we know where to start at least," Tekhav says, "Carbon Creek mining seems to have something hidden within it, something worth obscuring its outgoing energy signatures."

\\\

aten66 · November 2016

Former Mining Town of Carbon Creek
2063

Beaming outside the realm of view from town, yet near a roadway full of holes and in disrepair, Tekhav, Orion, and Penn'i beam into view in plainclothes. Tekhav had a wool beanie covering his pointed ears from view as best he could, and Orion hid his own unique features with a bit of creativeness, using a bald cap and fedora to mask his head and eyes as best he could from view, while Penn'i merely hid her eyes with a simple pair of sunglasses meant to enforce the intended perception of being blind.

Walking onto the main road, the three walk into the town. Penn'i had her arms around one of Orion's, while Tekhav walked ahead of them, tapping into his tactical scope to scan the empty streets. It wasn't all empty, since it seemed trash receptacles were in use, and a newspaper on the street had a recent date to when they had estimated their arrival. "It seems our scans were incomplete," Tekhav says, "Interference must have kept us from picking up human life signs in the town, I hadn't thought this town capable of supporting people with the war having gone on." Penn'i speaks up as they were walking to a nearby diner.

"I feel a sense of dread, this town seems to ooze with depression or maybe even fear..." she states, "It feels like the street itself is thick with a miasma of fear of something... something involving the darkness..." Suddenly the Betazed women grimaced in pain, before steadying herself. "The people are afraid, afraid of something in the woods," she says, "I can feel it, a presence trying to conceal itself, its- its almost like it can sense my reach..." Clutching her head in pain, Tekhav and Orion usher her into the diner, sitting her down to compose herself.

"I'm sorry we're closed," a waitress calls from the back, while Orion looks over Penn'i, "Come back in the morning and we'll have hot rations available at eight." Tekhav looks to the back, where the waitresses voice comes from, and he makes a quick decision in his head. "Did you hear me?" the young woman asks, coming out from the back of the diner kitchen, "I said we were closed and for you to come back tomorrow!" With a quick nerve pinch, the women falls into his arms, and he drags her to an empty booth. With that he goes and grabs a glass and some water for Penn'i, before checking the status of the waitress.

"It appears the town is still going through rationing, maybe something is keeping supplies from reaching this town," Orion says, looking up from Penn'i, "Perhaps they fear that whatever is keeping their food and supplies, maybe they believe when the food runs out, they may be next."

"Something I the forest?" Tekhav states, until he thinks back to an obscure line in the information he had read earlier. Quickly getting up from his spot, Tekhav begins to search around the diner, until his eyes fall upon a cork board tucked away into the back. Walking towards it, he studies so e of the ads and papers selling items, until he finds the papers he was looking for. Grabbing a hand full of them, some new and white, others old and yellowed with age, torn and marked, he takes them to Penn'i. "Are you feeling people's emotions?" He asks, pointing to the faces littering the pages, "Do any of them seem familiar to you?" The Betazoid looks at the various faces on the papers, and feels voices and minds clash around her, overwhelming her sense.

Swimming through the suffocating miasma of fear and gloom, she feels a familiarity with a young women who had been taken, Candyce Johnson, and feels the desperate cries of fear and confusion shine out like a beacon. Holding onto this sense of direction, Penn'i attempts to center herself and isolate this trail of emotion, using it to anchor her in the now, while blocking everything else out. Feeling blood drip from her nose, she opens her eyes and nod at Tekhav and Orion, who are relieved to see her awake, and offer her a napkin.

"I felt the girl, somewhere in the vicinity of the mine," she reports, "I had to cut through a fog of emotion, but I could feel her confusion, I'm using it to anchor myself and dually comfort her; I will keep her as calm as she could be, for now, but we need to resolve whatever force is tying all this negative emotion to this town." Checking on the passed out waitress one last time, the three move on and out into the darkness of the fading day, as their deadline draws ever closer.

// The Old, Abandoned Carbon Creek Mine

Stopping just outside of view of the mine, Tekhav takes a survey directed at the mouth of the cave entrance. Seeing no one going in and out, Tekhav almost breaks cover, before he sees the drone. Swarming above head, the drone was almost invisible until it began its decent toward the entrance. He hadn't thought he would have seen such a device on Earth at this time, but then again the Roswell incident was different here, perhaps the Iggoloth drone wasn't as u usual as it could be. He was more worried that the indication of abductions over the past century, meant that more than likely the Elachi had been terrorizing and transforming bystanders in the cover of darkness in an almost all but abandoned mining town, right under the government' nose.

Perhaps not, since it appeared that a green-cameo truck had just pulled up in the darkness, lights out and almost with no sound besides the screech of brakes. Out hopped a general with an emblem closely related to the one he had seen the Q using, meaning perhaps he had gotten closer to ending this game of his. Said man seemed to follow the drone inside the mine complex, which supposedly was still under government control and watch, and said to be closed up due to instabilities. It seems government coverups were a thing no matter the universe, and this was a most concerning one, with Servitors of Iconian's in the mix.

That was the messy thing about time travel and alternate dimensions, the enemy of your past can still be your current enemy, and the fact the your enemy in your world, could very well be an ally here. The complexities of this 'Mirror Universe', would drive even the most logical Vulcan insane while trying to untangle the differences and similarities, not to mention the shades of grey this universe seemed to favor over the stereotypical 'good vs. evil', putting Tekhav in a corner as to who to trust.

The Iconian event was far enough back that there was very little difference, a focal point in time being Iconia's destruction, that the ripples of change only variate after that point. The same could be said of First Contact, where the crucial point deciding mankind's future rested on the shoulders of Zephram Cochrane, whether he succeeded, failed, or even if he was assimilated. But this was the 'Mirror', and he had quite a complex situation on his hand: if the Terran Empire had not yet had their first contact with Vulcan, why are the Elachi working with their governmental rulers?

Penn'i stood alert with an assembled EMP in her hands, a sabotage device she could use to disable the Elachi drones they would no doubt face storming the mine. Orion had his own cold flash grenade ready, and even two respirators in hand, handing one to Penn'i and Tekhav each, as the atmosphere was no doubt altered. Thankfully the 0718 model had no need for the same defensive measurements, meaning Orion was their own secret weapon in a way. That was when Tekhav had another strange thought, this time deciding to go for it. "I believe I have a plan," he states, "But I need you to trust in me."

aten66 · November 2016

// Inside the Mysterious Complex

Backed by the arms of two drones, Tekhav walks slowly into the hidden laboratory, admiring the creative patchwork of technology that made up the underground complex. Suddenly two Elachi step out of the shadows, hidden by a blind corner, and replace the drones. One, obviously a scientist, scans Tekhav with advanced technology, while the other handles their weapon at level with Tekhav, ready to activate it with a hairpin trigger. The scientist motions for him to follow, Tekhav complies and follows the scientist deeper into the complex, heavily shadowed by the soldier.

"What?" a new voice interjects, "My work is unfinished, I haven't finished prepping the next host for germination... what is another one doing here for?" A goggled figure removes herself from her project, standing over the body of a female Tekhav no doubt believes was the most recent victim of their abductions. "Hmm, male, he won't do for much besides another one of you soldier types..." the female scans over him, before removing his hat, "Quite unusual that you seem so well fed, these pitiful humans are so... Thaesha?"

The woman sneers and removes the goggles, revealing her own set of pointed ears and the distinct brow of a Romulan, though the brunette hair was unusual. "My biological donor always believed this day would come... leave us," she says to the two Elachi, the soldier one straying for a moment longer before complying, "When the Aegis operative used in my binary creation was found to be missing, I too had no doubts that they would send another lackey after me... but a half a century of waiting?" She looks him over, before taking out a device from her pocket, a thin, metal cylinder, and uses it to scan him. "Hmmm, not in their database, either you are new, stupid, or you just made the biggest mistake in your life coming down to this backwater mud-ball, Vulcan," she says, "This planet is on the brink of total annihilation and self destruction, and I am here to ensure it."

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage, I just entered this system as a scout ahead of a survey expedition by the T'Plana-Hath," Tekhav responds innocently, "Captain Solkar will be arriving within thirteen hours to rendezvous with my shuttlecraft within orbit." At that the Romulan smiles wickedly.

"My, you do know your history, Vulcan, but you just slipped up, Vulcan's did not implement transporter systems until the late 22nd century; and what's this?" she draws close and finds the Starfleet delta pinned beneath the clothes he wore, "Oooh, out of time and place, aren't we Terran slave, or are you equals in that so-called 'Prime' timeline?" Still grinning, she rips the pin away and stomps it into the ground with her heel. "You must be the anomaly that my Beta Six picked up, no doubt sent here by someone to muddle with my plans," she replies, "Let me introduce myself, I am Taris Two, binary clone of former Regent Taris and Supervisor 194, and in a way, I work for the Aegis, watching over this Earth from here within Carbon Creek Mine."

"You, working for a clandestine temporal agency that hallmarks protection of species?" Tekhav retorts, "You've abducted innocent civilians, turned however many you need into Elachi no doubt, and have kept the people in fear of this place for so long, you've resorted to stealing their supply shipments just to keep them wary!" The Romulan hybrid snorts a little at that, that moves into a full blown laugh.

"Have you so little knowledge about this planet, Vulcan?" she responds, "No doubt you've searched their files and found nothing but talk of 'peace and prosperity' under a twenty year armistice, no doubt?" She moves to a computer terminal, and activates a screen, "Beta Six, tell me the current state of the American Empire, sufficient food source in acreage, and current number of people within its borders."

"Scanning using exceiver... extrapolation complete: viable food source equivalent 0.2 acres per person, population 435,000,000, current state of government has Greene regime puppet ruler established, while Greene party remains hidden as backers of current Emperor, Donald the Second," the Beta Six computer responds, "Is that all Supervisor 194.5?" Sighing, the woman rubs the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, yes Beta Six, and stop calling me that annoying number, just Supervisor is fine," Taris responds, "Alert Zephyr of our intruder, and tell the Syndicate that Project: Red Queen will be complete in six hours time; the Vulcan ship will be theirs, and perhaps some extra tidbits of knowledge I can get from our new prisoner." With a beep the computer returns to its previous sate, shutting down. "Now, let me ask how many of your people are no doubt lying in ambush to attack my facility?" she asks, "Ten, thirty, a hundred?" She turns away towards what she had been working on, and removes a piece of equipment. "I'm sure you're wondering why I wouldn't know all of this already, but I happen to know that you've only brought two others with you, no doubt just a scouting party, like you've said," she continues, "Of course, I also know that you're curious as to what this is, yes?"

Tekhav nods, crossing his arms. "It's the key to my plans coming to fruition," she says, "I've sold it to many governments as a weapon of last resort, the key to accessing and activating a derelict weapons platform left in orbit from Greene's time in office, but in reality its a power generator." She cackles a bit, then wipes a tear from her eye. "In thirteen hours, when the Vulcan's arrive and the whole world inevitably panics when Zephram Cochrane holds the world hostage with a stolen ship, the various world governments will no doubt attempt to activate their final weapon, activating all five generators I need across the world."

"And that would accomplish what, exactly?" Tekhav asks, "Why would it matter if that happened?" She smiles and replaces the device where it lay.

"Have you ever wondered how long the Iconians had been watching the Milky Way galaxy?" she asks, leaving Tekhav wondering where this was going, "No, of course you haven't, but once I use the power generated to open a Gateway, I can escape to help the Iconians where my mother couldn't." She sighs and looks longingly at the lab around her. "It will be so sad to watch it all burn, the Ring of Fire will be a blast to watch for sure, but it will be worth it when I join my gods," she says with maniacal glee, "The Terran Empire squashed the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance, decimated the Iconian's after properly harnessing the use of Omega Molecules, and then in an act of idiocy, blew up an active Dyson Sphere and rendering all of the Milky Way uninhabitable by warp capable species." She looks to Tekhav and smiles.

"Andromeda was the best during that time, but then the radiation poisoning caused by the neighboring galaxy going unstable increased threefold, and it all went to heck," she says, "My progenitor, my Mother, Taris, she was an operative used by the Iconians to blow up Hobus, it really made the Star Empire unstable and T'Ket got her vengeance at the cost of making the Empire stronger, and so my Mother, in her misguided belief that the Iconians could save Romulus with time travel, used their Andromedean resources to build a quote on quote, 'time gate', that would have been able to travel into the past, allowing her to restore Romulus and thereby prevent the Empire from ever gaining the upper hand against the Iconians."

"It didn't really work out, if you ended up here," Tekhav dryly retorts, "Obviously something went wrong." She looks at him curiously for a moment, before smiling.

"Quite the opposite of course, ending up here, in this time, was intentional on behalf of the peerless masters of science," Taris Two says, "They proposed a counter strike on the Empire, weaken it, destroy its formation even, and then Romulus would never have to die." She sighs, and removes the Servo form a pocket. "Of course Father had to intervene, and then Mother's ship came crashing down into this pitiful town, killing all the mature Elachi and Heralds, leaving her alone and alive, but unable to complete her task."

"Yet somehow you exist, somehow there are more Elachi, and you've been completing her work in secret all this time," Tekhav responds, "I know Aegis technology can hack and obscure information, even erase memories, but it couldn't do this on such a large and long scale." She laughs and nods.

aten66 · November 2016

"Of course not, not even my mother could hide a ship in these mountains without help," Taris responds, "The American government almost had my mother's ship and technology, they descended like flies on a honey trap, eager to take what they couldn't understand, but then another party intervened and made it all go away." She moves to the table and begins her work anew. "Did you ever hear of the old Earth conspiracies, of immortal men and shape shifting lizards controlling the government?" she asks, Tekhav arching his brow in confusion, "Right, different histories; well the shape-shifting lizards were Aegis members and their agents placed in the right time and place to manipulate governments, while stories of an immortal conqueror abound; tales of Vandar the Stone, Alexander the Great, Hermann Goering, and many more faces of death, it was said he sowed the seeds for the group that controls the world, even now in its death throws."

"A secret society that controls the world?" Tekhav questions, "Fascinating, it reminds me of stories of the Ten." Taris Two smiles at that.

"Yes, well the Syndicate, while shrouded in mystery, are a group of forty seven individuals dispersed throughout the world, all profiting off the chaos I've sowed for them these pasty eighty years, while I've been planning to backstab them all this time," she responds, "Zephyr was quite pleased to become one of their members when Greene fell out of favor and had to be- removed, and we've been working together ever since; he's quite happy to let this world burn if it means leaving this planet, and I must say I had fun corrupting his morals." Suddenly a black Epohh walks into the room, and jumps onto the table where Taris was working, cocking its head at the intruding Vulcan.

"Ah, yes, Zephyr, this is- I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?" Taris asks, but receives no answer, "Don't be rude, I'm happy that you listened to my megalomaniacal rant, but not introducing yourself to your host, is quite un-sportsmen like." Turning to the Epohh, Tekhav shudders at the sight of the soulless, black eyes, which loomed like an entrance to an endless abyss where darkness chilled to the bone. Shaking himself from his stupor, he shudders at the feeling of Goosebumps on his skin.

"My name is Tekhav," the Vulcan says, "I am captain of the U.S.S. Pleiades, and you are all currently violating established Temporal Law, with intent to alter the timeline; it's a good thing I made a call to someone before I came in alone." Taris raises her own brow for a moment, before the sound of transporters alert them to new arrivals. "It seems my men took out your interference device," Tekhav says, "Now, I wouldn't do anything rash." Behind him Orion, Penn'i, Donnie, and a radically dressed Vulcan, who could pass for Tekhav's double, all wielding various weapons at the woman. "And don't think I forgot about you," Tekhav says, activating a support drone and a seeker, and sending it after the Epohh, which had tried to bounce away unnoticed, "My little Epohh friend, Zephyr, correct? Why, logically I think your people will be very interested in knowing about your dealings in this timeline."

The Epohh changes form in the blink of an eye, turning into a black haired man with a dismissive expression and disdain aimed at Taris Two, before the soft and cuddly Epohh returns. "Oh yeah, you runt," Taris states in return, "If you hadn't left me alone with the Vulcan, you would realized his plan sooner!" At that the Epohh sticks out his tongue in a mock gesture, until the two are transported away in beams of red light.

"I'm going to ignore this whole situation," the other Vulcan says, now that the situation was under control, "And my people have already begun to plant charges in this... whatever it is, but as far as my people are concerned, this event never happened; I believe the same should be said of your people Captain tr'Raal."

"Agreed Captain tr'Raal, and Havok, be careful, she's a wily one," Tekhav replies, "You don't want to leave her to the mercy of the Aegis, after all." Winking, the Vulcan man walks over to his officers, ready to return to his ship.

"Well damn, how did he find out?" Havok replies, "A century of planning and the man finds out like that...." Snapping his finger the transporter engages, leaving just as the explosives went off, burying all evidence beneath a mountain of rubble.

// U.S.S. Pleiades, Luna Orbit

"Did anyone ever tell you how much you look like James Roday?" Donnie asks from his station on the bridge. Q responds by turning him into a cardboard cut out. The impatient entity smiled as time ticked down for Tekhav to find an answer, or risk getting found out and targeted for the wrong kind of attention. Q watched as the Terran Paradox-Class warped in, he had foreseen it as one possibility, and he knew he would get his answer soon. Tekhav walks in from the turbo lift, greeted by Q with a flourish.

"So, did you find an answer?" Q aks impatiently, "Tell me, tell me!" Q licks his lips in anticipation.

"Quite," Tekhav responds, "In a way, I started the rebellion, along with my wife." Q smiles and snaps, returning the ship from whence it came, just as the Vulcan survey ship began its approach.

// I.S.S. Crimson, 2410

"He knew?" Taris states, "He was in the room with me for less than an hour, and he managed to guess who I was?" The Vulcan Captain, Havok, nods while petting the black Epohh in his lap. "He let me gloat for ten minutes, and the guy figured out my identity in that space of time..." She continues, "Did I undergo physical reconstruction for no reason, or something?" Putting a hand to her neck, she manages to rip open a small break of skin, exposing an implant lodged in-between the base of her neck and shoulder blade. Ripping the skin tight holographic emitter out, with minimum blood loss, and the former Vulcan resumed her original identity as Nali, wife of Havok.

"It was your Katra, you must have touched him in some way, sparked some memory or did something only he would recognize in his e'lev," Havok replies, "But, our role in this is done for now." Snuggling closer to his immortal lover, the mortal Vulcan sighs. "Let's hope he appreciates all we did for him," Havok says, "We left enough clues behind, that he should understand the best course of action for him to follow."

"As long as I stop pretending to have to be a clone of that vile woman," Nali says, "It was bad enough I had to stay in character, but doing all those awful things to people just to sell my persona's credibility..." She shudders a bit. "It's too bad all the work we did won't come into fruition for a few hundred years," Nali says, "This place needs more hope than ever, with everything that's about to happen."

\\ Unknown Place, 2063

Six Hours before First Contact

A group of forty seven shadowy men are shown around a conference room, some physically present, while others were shown on screens connected around the world. Seven men were sat around the edge of a table, while an eighth stood at the head.

"Project: Red Queen, has succeeded, the rogue Aegis has been removed from play, and his lackey has been taken into custody by her own authorities," the eighth man says, his black beard neatly trimmed and tight, "Meanwhile, we have successfully sabotaged the generators, so that when activated they will merely appear to have been faulty, safely averting the potential crisis of being buried under a foot of lava and the death of Terra!" The cheers around the room were loud, even through speakers, as the men all around whoop and holler. "A toast, Novus ordo seclorum, to a world free of guidance, a world led by our own hands!" the man says, "A toast to myself, Dr. Wilson Evergreen, for having perpetuated the plan that allowed us this freedom!"

With a round of hearty cheers, the various men onscreen drink their glasses, along with the seven men at the table with Dr. Evergreen. After a few seconds, six die around the table, while thirty five die on screen, all dying from the poisoned wine they had just ingested. Sipping at his own wine, while the other man in the room had yet to drink his, Dr. Wilson Evergreen watches the man push the glass away from him. "Smart man," Wilson says, while turning to the four remaining men, and one woman, on screen, "Now, I'm sure you're all wondering why I just poisoned and destroyed the very institution I've built up over the past few centuries, but as you're all aware, you five are all each key rulers or consultants to the men and women who have the power of the world in their grasp."

The others begin to protest, a cacophony of sound and chaos silenced by a wave of a hand. "Now is not the time for arguing, you are all the true rulers of this world," he says, "Salli Khan of the Khanate, Tsarina Anastasia the Third of the Russian Republic, Benjamin Colton of the European Coalition, Joe Smith, Vice President of the American Empire, and Jing Xuan of the Eastern Dominion," Dr. Evergreen says, "Aad I, as you can tell, am no normal man, I am the one you called Vandar, Alexander, Machiavelli, and now Wilson Evergreen." This time the Eastern Dominion representative stood up.

"The immortal ruler, the Dragon of Tibet, the White Ghost, Jack the Ripper himself?" the man says outraged, "Do you think us fools, you merely drink non poisoned wine, and you think we well let you live for this disgrace?" Suddenly shooting is heard from behind the delegates perspective, and video cuts out as he turns to see his door knocked down, guns lowered toward him.

"Now that you've seen a demonstration of my reach and power," Wilson continues, "I suggest we move on to our next project; with the information leaked to us by our Red Queen, I've managed to gather a progressive, if not quite flexible itinerary of the next one hundred years, up until the shift of power when an 'Empress Sato' comes into rule." The man tosses a manila envelope to the American delegate. "I suggest we make a game of it, because we only have three weeks until Zephram Cochrane profits from his conquest in... six hours," Wilson says, "Now, how much will it take to buy our new puppet ruler out, while simultaneously taking advantage of his greed to take time to plant the seeds of resistance outside of this new 'Terran Empire' that we will bring to birth?"

At the silence of the others in his group, the immortal man sighs. "Don't worry people it's not like we're all going to die tomorrow, at least I won't," he continues, "We have all the time in the world to start a resistance; it'll be a long time getting from here to there... and I haven't incited a rebellion in a long time..."

...

"A Divine Image"
by William Blake, Songs of Experience

Cruelty has a human heart,
And Jealousy a human face;
Terror the human form divine,
And secrecy the human dress.

The human dress is forged iron,
The human form a fiery forge,
The human face a furnace seal'd,
The human heart its hungry gorge.

aten66 · December 2016

Strange Encounters

Azure Nebula, 2410

I.K.S. Alexander

The Ouroboros-Class starship stalked the space lanes of the Azure Nebula, searching for rogue Syndicate trafficking black market goods through the unstable region. On top of that it seemed the Tholians, ever since their attack on the Na'khul sun, had turned their sights on patrolling the fringe of their space, including parts of the Nebula they had considered their domain. Berg was merely happy to be doing something, things had gotten quite on the Temporal Front for now, meaning he had no way of testing out his more unique weapons on an unending swarm of enemies. He had just picked up a Nausicaan Energy Lance from a brawl a while back, and he wanted to try it out.

Sighing, Berg knew that he'll have a chance if they found the Orions, they normally wouldn't stop if he asked politely, besides the fact they were probably under the command of the rogue matron he heard had been making power plays outside of the Klingon affiliated faction. He knew he had to watch out for Tholian's, since they would no doubt be up to mischief of some sort, plus he didn't want to get sucked into yet another temporal anomaly and end up in some mining colony... again.

Biting his thumb, Berg sighs and stands, cracking his back from the length of time spent sitting down. Turning to the shift lead, he gets a nod in response from the Klingon women. "Thank you B'Ellera, I'm off to Holodeck One for some shooting practice," the alien Captain says, "Alert me to any change, no matter how insignificant it seems; for all we know, we could run into a temporal mine out here..." Nodding, the Klingon woman takes Berg's place, while a Bekk replaces B'Ellera.

\\

Holodeck One

Loading a shooting range program, a specialized program he had tweaked over the past year and a half to contain various obstacles and weapons he has retrieved fro his personal collection over the years. The training dummy, for instance, could remain a simple sandbag, or be overlaid with the skin of an Orion MAurauder, or a Felk'lhr hordeling, or an Undine, or even the visage of his own brother. Meanwhile he had programmed holographic weapons he's collected over the years, some he hadn't even obtained yet, but had been able to replicate with information he had bought. A Harbinger staff lay on one wall, next to the replica of the Shard of Kahless hanging above his bed, while a Kelvin universe Boolean cannon sat below them, hanging amongst various disrupters, plasma weaponry, and even phaser based weaponry.

While he was a scientist first, and a warrior second, at least in his mind, Berg was happy to learn to be adaptable to any situation. He always wished to be a healer, a medic, before a weapons wielder, but joining the Klingons had made that hard. In a society of warriors, scientists and engineers were second rate, just above non-Klingons, but all the while harder when you hold that position while being non-Klingon. Pulling up the Boolean cannon, he sets the target as a Fek'lhr Captain. The past ten years had begun to change that of course, though the last year alone showed the value of a warrior's spirit as well. A warrior could raze an enemy encampment, but could they help discover the cure to a Vaadwaur pathogen that was killing Kobali soldiers? Could a warrior cold start an engine after being knocked out by a Herald EMP?

These were the reasons engineers and medics and scientists had grown beyond just needing to make new weapons and quickly patch up warriors, they had begun to have a voice, an opinion, and began to show that the Federation wasn't the only adaptable species, even with the lag behind. Setting down the Cannon, he chooses a pair of Dual Pistols he had gotten from a Vaadwaur refugee as a gift. Perhaps it was the Klingon spirit after all, the need to be stronger, to be smarter, driving Klingon's in ways others species hadn't; like the Gorn too set in their old ways, or the Orions too focused on manipulation and seduction, or the Nausicaans too set on proving their Guramba. Perhaps that drive forward, to match the Federation, is what drove the Klingons to conquer these races, to make them stronger and bind them together and focus these separate aspects to the benefit of all.

That was why Berg appreciated his job, he may have only been a scientist, but he appreciated the future, that his hard work helped build a stronger future for the benefit of all. "Captain," Una calls over the communication line, "B'Ellera has notified me that a group of Meshweavers have begun to collect near a faint temporal-spatial signal nearby." Berg sets down the dual pistols he had been using and grabs a towel from the replicator. Wiping off any sweat, Berg begins his return to the bridge, alerting Una to set course for the area and to exit just out of sensor range and cloak their approach.

\\

On Approach

Six Meshweaver-class ships had been appearing to stray around a small area where a temporal portal appeared to be shimmering, leaving the afterimage of whatever poor ship had gotten sucked into it. Upon closer inspection, it had appeared that the Tholians had stabilized the anomaly and were merely waiting for something to happen, as the clear image of a Syndicate Warbarge Dreadnaught seemed to ripple. Out of it came the broken remains of the Dreadnaught, not quite destroyed, but obviously damaged beyond functional use. "Load a salvo spread," Berg orders immediately, "Be prepared to fire at will when we decloak, I believe that the Trojan ship was just sent through." True to form, the Tholians got to dragging the broken derelict of a ship away, to salvage what they could, while the remaining three Tholian ships waited a bit longer.

After a bright rupture of light from the anomaly, the Tholians are ready as they await the arrival of whatever ship is breaching the anomaly. This time a ship of unusual design, a ship clearly federation, yet obviously from the future, clears the anomaly and begins to fire on the Tholian ships. "Now," Berg orders, as the ship decloaks and enters the fray, targeting the three ships trying to web the newcomer. The ship then releases a cloud in front of it, which then seems to go towards a Tholian ship, and seems to spread out toward the two others. As soon as the battle had started, Berg watched as the Tholian ships were quickly cut down with both ships at work, until only his ship and the Federation newcomer were left.

Berg now questioned whether this new ship was friend or foe, whether this ship came from his, or an alternate, future. Waiting with baited breath, Berg finds that the Federation ship is holding fire and not attacking, and he takes it as a good sign. "Request for a communication channel from the unknown ship," Una says from communications, "Should I request ID and bring up a channel?" Berg nods, and the request is relayed. In a moment the ship opens a channel and reveals an unusual Orion at the helm.

"Did you steal that ship, Orion?" Berg asks seriously, having just moments ago seen the warbarge enter this timeline before the Federation ship had, meaning it may have been sent as a decoy. The gray Orion on screen laughs for a moment, before the screen moves back to show the woman in a variant Federation uniform.

"Close enough tahedrin, but don't worry, I didn't steal this ship koledru venari!" She says smiling, "Is elt Una, onboard, is she tabadi of Bergkar yet?" The unfamiliar words tumbled out of the Orion's lips, and Berg understood enough to have questions about the words 'patriarch' and 'House of Berg', but knew better and turned to Una, whose mouth was wide open in shock and confusion. "Ah, what year is it your time?" the Orion asks, "I had figured it to be 2417, but it seems our calculations on the exit date was a bit- off." Covering her embarrassed smile with a hand, like she was trying to stifle a laugh, she composes herself.

"Quite off," Berg says dryly, "Tell me, Captain, what is your ships name?" The Orion perks up at that.

"Why Captain, can't you guess?" she asks in reply, "The U.S.S. Alexander, of course; call it familial respect for a man who changed the KDF." At this she moves to the side, as if distracted by an unheard voice off screen. "Ah, yes, that does present a problem," she says, before turning back towards Berg, "Captain Eria'nos, may I come aboard to converse privately? It would be most appreciated." Berg mumbles under his breath then motions to Una. Getting the message the Orion woman nods, while Berg turns his attention to the Orion on screen.

"I will have a security team escort you from the transporter to my ready room," Berg says, ending the channel, "Hrhm... Una, alert me to our guests presence when she arrives." Moving to his ready room, he begins to tidy it up out of compulsion. After a few minutes of waiting, a chime was heard signaling the arrival of his new visitor. "Come in," Berg states, as the pale Orion is accompanied by Una, "Welcome, thank you Una, please return to your duties while I converse with our visitor."

"Ah, I believe my ship has some prisoners for your brig," the Orion Captain says, "My first officer V'Ruk, will no doubt help you initiate a transport of the Slavers we caught trying to peddle antiques in exchange for future technology." Una nodded, taking one last hesitant glance at the Orion Captain, before leaving. The Orion Captain glances around at the spartan room, admiring the Bat'leth hanging on one wall, as well the small shelf holding a few paperbound books. "I remember this one," the Orion says, grabbing a fraying book from the shelves, "Isn't this the book about the Tandarian weasel and the little Suliban girl who helped it find it's way home to Tandar Prime?"

"If you skip over the part where the Certoss pirates come to raid the girls colony," Berg responds, "But you're avoiding the question, mainly, who are you?" Berg looks at the woman, who seemed intimate with his own study, and sees a faint smile on her lips.

"Honestly, due to the Temporal Prime Directive, I am unable to fully disclose my 'real' name and where I got my knowledge of your house," the Orion says, "But for an alias... call me 'Lehia', and as for my relation to your house, I was born a daughter to the House of Berg, my Mother was a warrior born into it, while my Father... is a separate issue, but he is the reason I have dual citizenship with the Federation." Berg nods at Lehia, her openness at all showing she trusted him.

"Why did you wish to speak to me?" Berg asks, "You seemed quite urgent in your request to have a private conversation with me..." Leading off, he sees confusion cross her face. Her brows are knit together for a moment, before she knocks her knuckles to her forehead.

"Duh Lehia; I'm sorry Captain Eria'nos, it wasn't anything serious, despite my earlier tone," she replies, "It's not often we come across a timeline where we can be so open in situations like these, I just wanted to meet one of my inspirations for joining the Federation; it's not like you meet your metaphorical forbearer everyday... or your living ones." She had mumbled that last part under her breath, but Berg caught it all the same.

"Oh, am I to assume that I am some how your grandfather?" Berg asks coyly, "Or by calling Una tabadi, were you really interested in seeing your grandmother?" The pale cheeks were flushed green, as if she had been caught drinking the last of the bloodwine.

"Ahem- yes, it was more of a family matter," she says, before straightening up and getting serious, "But you can't let her know I am her descendent, not without negative repercussions down the line, especially not if she isn't at-" Catching herself, Lehia quickly covers her mouth and bites on her thumb, looking downcast.

"If she isn't where?" Berg asks, curious. Her silence tells a lot, as if the slip up wasn't intentional, despite her seemingly cool manner.

"I can't tell you, because it hasn't happened yet, it won't happen for... for a while," she says softly, "I can't yell you, otherwise my existence could be at risk, because of what you could do... or what you didn't." Berg nods, understanding the implications to drop the subject she was trying desperately to less than subtly hint to him.

"Very well then," Berg says, "If your ship is ready to leave, and our brig is full, then I suggest our business is concluded, lest any other... slips of the tongue ruin either of our days." Nodding the Orion girl bows in a very familiar way, and says something in a language that sounded Orion, but seemed to be an older dialect other than the Trader's Tongue. At that Berg escorted Lehia out of the Ready Room and onto the bridge,

"Wait," she says pausing, before turning to Berg, "May I speak to ta- elt Una, before I go?" Nodding, Berg lets the Orion go speak to his First Officer. Walking over, she garners Una's attention, then whispers something in her ear, which sounds suspiciously like High Orion, before kissing her on the cheek and returning to Berg. "Thanks again Captain," she says going towards the turbolift, "It was nice to see how the family ran its ship in the olden days, I had enough fun listening to your stories growing up, now I got to live in one of them!"

"That was the strangest girl I've ever met," Berg says to no one in particular, after Lewis had transported over, "I vote any future missions in the Azure Sector get passed on, Una make a note." He watches the U.S.S. Alexander depart back into the timestream, and sees the anomaly collapse behind them. "Now then, helm," Berg orders, "Off to the nearest place we can offload these prisoners, the Syndicate would probably be happy to know these 'rogue' pirates got their booty stolen, lets see if they can make a profit by getting their men back." The Ouroboros disappears into a streak of stars.

cmdrscarlet · June 2017

Caught In Time

Omazei stood at the display on the wall and failed to stifle a yawn. Everyone in the room started yawning as she spoke.

“I’m sorry about that, although I’m sure we are all, literally, tired of losing sleep.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and Omazei tapped a key on the screen. A blurry image of a red-colored bipedal creature appeared. The initial image changed with another of the same creature from a different angle, then another image as if on a rotation.

“This is our newest residence, Nunpar Hablas. Discovered on Konar III in 2398 by the crew of the USS Ernst Mach, ironically, while on a routine planetary survey. Logs reveal exactly what we’ve been encountering: loss of sleep from persistent interruption by these –“

As if on queue, a creature like on the screen passed through the wall closest to Kathryn’s chair. The Nunpar ran in a blur and seemed to fly onto the table and ‘stopped’ in front of Kathryn. Standing about 13 centimeters, it looked like a miniature humanoid and although standing still, it seemed to be in constant motion. A high-pitched buzz emanated from the blurry creature as it waved its arms erratically. Then it zoomed to stand in front of the Klingon Security Officer.

Bur’ar rubbed his eyes then pounded fists on the table as if to crush the Nunpar, which dodged the sudden attack. No one else reacted to his actions. The buzz intensified for a second, and then the Nunpar ran off the table and through the door of the room whose sensors registered the movement and opened belatedly.

“Forgive me Captain, I lost control,” sighed Bur’ar.

Kathryn rubbed her temples. “Sadly, I sympathize with you.” She looked to Omazei, who read the look on Kathryn’s face to continue.

“Yes, well, in summary, these creatures are fast and annoying. Universal translators don’t seem to work on the Nunpar. It seems the surveyors made very little effort to communicate with the Nunpar and the logs reflect a rather heightened exasperation that stymied their work. The Ernst Mach laid warning buoys in the system because of their experience. There are no recorded instances of the Nunpar off-planet.”

Anthi growled, “until now.”

Kathryn smiled at her First Officer’s remark. “Okay. A few questions.”

“Only a few?” Anthi’s dark-shaded eyes flashed angrily, her antennae twitching as she interrupted her Captain. Quickly she raised her hands as if to surrender. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Nodding sympathetically, Kathyn spoke as she continued to rub her temples. “How many do we have on board? How did they get here? How do we get them off?”

Chief Engineer Thel calmly responded, “I’ve scoured the transporter logs and these … things, are not in the database. So they were either physically brought on board or transported from another source.”

Omazei stepped away from the display. “Reports about this creature appeared nine days ago. We have not passed another ship or starbase in thirteen days. It’s possible it came aboard somehow during our last stop at Deep Space Eight. Their Chief Constable replied to my query the other day and do not report anything similar. Based on internal reports, I think we only have one.”

Buzzing returned and everyone started looking around until the Nunpar jumped through the center of the table. It ran around in circles, collided with Bur’ar’s hand, and then ricocheted off the edge of the table. Still vibrating it sank through the floor.

Kathryn looked shocked at the others. “So. How do we get rid of it?”

“Um, are we curious how it didn’t pass through Bur’ar?” Omazei asked.

“No,” replied the others in unison.

“Or how it has not run out into outer space?”

“No,” everyone copied.

After light laughter from the group, Anthi cleared her throat. “Seriously, we know it’s vibrating so fast as to be able to pass through solid matter without problems.”

“Except organic matter,” added Omazei after another yawn.

“Right, well I’m not going to make recommendations for a trap of that kind. I could … but I won’t.”

Thel tapped the table loudly. “We have to find a way to stop it long enough to trap it into something inanimate.”

Kathryn’s mental fog lifted at the idea of a box made of thin air. “I have an idea.”

+++

Omazei stood from the trap laid out within the cargo bay. Four posts about three meters high were spread out in a square about fifteen meters apart. Closing a tricorder, she turned Kathryn and nodded.

Kathryn tapped her badge. “Helm, full stop.”

“Acknowledged,” replied a male voice. The ship’s engines lost power and the ambient sound of warp travel faded.

At a nearby console, Kathryn tapped a few keys on a console and the four posts activated, a faint blue spark intermittently appearing between the columns to reveal the ‘walls’. Otherwise the space within the trap was peaceful.

Bur’ar lifted a phaser pistol and adjusted a setting before firing into the trap. The beam penetrated two meters past the invisible barrier before slowing down. After a few seconds, Bur’ar stopped firing. Within the trap, the phaser beam slowly traversed the distance until it came to a stop at the center.

Omazei opened her tricorder and scanned the area. Impressed, she whistled before continuing her scans. “The trap is maintaining temporal integrity, with time effectively stopped in the center.”

Thel looked up from his Engineering console. “Power input from the warp core is stable.”

Kathryn nodded and she yawned. “Good.”

Anthi stepped up to Kathryn and stretched. “What do we do with the Nunpar once we’ve caught it?”

“Unless we race back to Konor III, I have no idea. I’m too tired to come up with something witty.”

ULC 29 Entry Thread: Temporal Intrigue

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