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Background artwork by Tenement01. Cover composition by Christina Moore. |
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U.S.S. Journey
Shuttlebay
September 26, 2378
When Alan Carter walked into the shuttle hangar, he found a
blonde female in a Federation uniform walking around it with one of those
tricorder scanners. The pointed tops of her ears told him she was not Human,
and he paused for a moment to sift through the names of all the different
species they had met in the last couple of weeks.
Vulcan! Yes, that’s it,
he thought, and continued toward her.
“Hullo there,” he called out, raising a hand to wave when
she turned her head. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”
“I am attempting to understand this vehicle,” the woman
replied.
“I thought your captain had decided not to have anyone take
a look at her because our technology was unfamiliar,” Alan said.
“Captain Hale did give that order, yes. But that does not
mean that I am forbidden to take a scan.”
She paused and turned to face him. “Who are you? By what
authority do you enter our shuttle bay?”
Alan raised an eyebrow, found himself slightly irritated by
her manner, but said only, “I’m Alan Carter of Moonbase Alpha. And I am here by
the authority of your captain to inspect our
spacecraft. Who are you?”
“I am Lt. Commander T’Rae, Chief Engineer of Journey. You’re an Alphan?”
“I believe I just said that,” Alan quipped as he stepped
closer to the Eagle. He could tell it had seen better days—that turbulence Paul
and the others had encountered appeared to have done a number on her. He ran
his hand along the hull as he looked over the conical cockpit.
It’s good to see you
again, old girl. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home soon.
Stepping around T’Rae, who watched him with a raised
eyebrow, he moved toward the hatch, pulling his commlock off his belt as he did
so. Given how long it had been since the Eagle’s systems had been accessed, he
wasn’t entirely sure that he could open it, but it was worth a try.
“What is that?” T’Rae asked.
“It’s called a commlock,” he replied as he pointed it at the
hatch. “We use them to communicate as well as open and shut doors.”
Pressing the ‘Open’ key, he felt relief as the hatch started
to open and the steps started to slide out from beneath it. Both moved slowly,
though, and he had to wait a little longer than he normally would.
As soon as the steps were set firmly down, Alan jogged up
them and into the passenger pod; the lights came on automatically but slowly.
There was more evidence of his friends’ rough ride in here, but overall,
everything seemed to be in order. He was reaching into the equipment locker as
T’Rae was coming up the steps.
“Interesting design concept,” she said as she stopped just
inside the hatch. “Are these shuttles modular?”
Surprised, Alan turned to her. “As a matter of fact, they
are. You’ve a good eye, Commander.”
She had moved further into the compartment and her gaze
began to roam. “What is it you hope to accomplish here, Mr. Carter?”
He had pulled a diagnostic tool kit from the locker and was
about to enter the cockpit, but turned back to say, “I should think it obvious,
Commander. First task is to see if I can determine just what the devil happened
to my mates, and then to see if the old girl is capable of flying so I can take
her home.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I fail to understand the propensity
for referring to any vessel with feminine pronouns. A starship has no gender;
it is a thing.”
Alan frowned and shook his head. “And I will never
understand why other people do not understand,” he said, and turned into the
cockpit.
He dropped into the pilot’s seat and for a moment simply ran
his hands over the controls, flipping this one and that to turn on the
equipment. There was one panel to his left that was burned out, but at a glance
it looked as though it could be replaced easily. Drawing a breath, he blew it
out and hooked the connector wires from the scanner in the tool kit to the fuse
panel below the yoke. It took even longer to interface with the computer than
to open the hatch, but at last numerical code began to scroll across the small
screen.
“What will that tell you?”
Alan looked over his shoulder at the Vulcan. “I would say it
acts much like your tricorder, Commander. This will tell me the status of the
Eagle’s systems: what needs repaired, what degree of damage there is, what
tools and parts will be needed to affect repairs, and so on.”
When the unit beeped that it had completed its scan of the
ship’s systems, he set the scanner aside and pulled a screwdriver out of the
tool kit to open the panel in the dividing console, where the data recorder was
located. The recorder was a light gray rectangular metal box with each end
colored black and a chrome handle. One end had a port where it was connected to
the onboard computer, and he reached to disconnect it; thankfully, it appeared
to have suffered no damage, so he set it into the tool kit and closed the
panel, screwing it back into place.
“What is that?”
Alan stifled a groan—she was like a curious child with all
her questions. Children he could tolerate, as he rather liked children and
hoped one day to have a family of his own, but to be pestered by a grown woman
in the manner of a child was kind of annoying.
“It is the onboard data recorder, Commander,” he said
tersely. “Everything the sensors recorded will be on it.”
The recorder was especially important, he mused, to their
learning what the three men on the Eagle had endured during those eleven days
on their own. He was particularly eager to see if there was anything at all
about the turbulence that had kept them from returning to Alpha, and also how
in the hell they had crossed from their home universe to this one.
“Do you believe this shuttle will be able to fly?”
Alan picked up the diagnostic scanner again and rapidly tapped
a few of the keys. “According to this, the engines are functional. No fuel in
the tanks, but that’s easily remedied—get her out into space, and another Eagle
can come up with a refueling tank and top her off.”
“It would be far less complicated a matter for us to simply
beam the shuttle down into one of your hangar bays. You need only provide the
coordinates,” T’Rae told him.
“Really? That would be capital of you,” he replied, and
thought perhaps he had judged her a little harshly. Naturally, anyone would be
curious about a strange craft and unfamiliar tools, so it was a matter of
course that a person more knowledgeable would be required to exercise patience
and answer all their questions.
With a sigh, Alan acknowledged he was being unfair, and
looked up at the engineer with a smile. The smile faltered when he noted her
flat, unemotional expression, and he turned to switch off the instrument panels
with a frown. He next tucked the scanner back into the tool kit with the data
recorder, then climbed up out of the seat.
“Well, I suppose we should get to setting her down on Alpha,
Commander,” he said. “There’s a fair bit to do to get her in working order
again.”
T’Rae nodded. “This way,” she said, and turned to lead the
way out. Out in the shuttle bay, Alan followed her over to a console where she
keyed up a blueprint of Alpha in moments—making it his turn to ask questions.
“How did you do that? We were told you hadn’t any
information on us, and you all just got here this afternoon. When have you had
time to download our schematics?”
She looked over briefly, her eyebrow raised. “Mr. Carter, Journey is but four months out of dock
and has one of the most sophisticated sensor systems in the fleet—it took me
only seconds to scan your facility in order to call up this graphic depiction.
The primitive nature of your own scanners could not have carried out the action
anywhere near as fast had you made an attempt to scan our vessel.”
It took everything in him not to scowl or snap back. Alan
merely looked at the small screen on the console and pointed out which of the
hangar bays would be best for the Eagle behind them. As he climbed back aboard
to be transported down with it, he fumed over the fact that the people of this
universe kept referring to the Alphans as “primitive”. The superior attitude was starting to grate
on his nerves.
<>
Moonbase Alpha
He had purposefully chosen Eagle Bay 1, where all the parts
not yet repurposed were stored. There Alan knew he could get to work repairing
the Eagle without anyone making his mood worse.
Unfortunately, it didn’t work. Somehow, four of the
Reconnaissance team had learned of the long-absent Eagle’s location and came in
to chatter with him about the return of Victor, Paul, and Kano. Given he was
still more than a little irritated, he put them off talking to him by ordering
them to work repairing the Eagle. There was a lot that needed to be done to get
her back in shape and he saw no reason to delay.
While the others got started on repairs, he took the data
recorder to have it analyzed. Habit and preference made him want to go to
Sandra, who was their senior and best analyst, but he knew she was not likely
to leave Paul’s side unless one of Alpha’s doctors kicked her out of Medical.
He couldn’t blame her for sticking by him as long as she could—the poor little
thing had been terribly depressed much of the last four and a half years, Paul
having been the third man she’d fallen in love with and lost. Alan couldn’t
remember a single moment in all the time he’d had been gone that Sandra had
smiled as brightly as she had today when Paul woke up. There could be little
doubt in any mind that had witnessed their reunion that she was still very much
in love with him, and had only suppressed her feelings out of a need to survive
without him.
Alan paused in mid-stride, thinking he wished he could find a girl to love him like
that. He’d been through a number of relationships since Breakaway, at least one
girl a year—a couple years, more than one. Even he sometimes wondered if he’d
ever settle down, though goodness knew he wanted to. He longed for that same
deep dedication he saw in the couples that were truly in love—like John and
Helena, or Tony and Maya. But damn it, while he’d had a lot of fun in the last
seven years, none of the girls had seemed…right…in the end.
Shaking himself, both mentally and physically, Alan worked
to get his head back on straight. He had work to do, and there was sure to be
someone in the Data Analysis Lab at this time of day. He looked toward the
ceiling as an announcement came over the base speakers—John telling everyone
that Victor, Paul, and Kano appreciated the warm welcome, but that they needed
to be left alone until Medical had cleared them. It was a wise move, he
thought, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to stop by once he’d
delivered the data recorder.
When he finally made it to Medical, they were just shooing
everyone out. The Starfleet officers decided then was a good time to go back to
their ships, and the three disappeared in columns of sparkling light. Watching
this, he reflected that they weren’t all
bad—Murphy’s crew, except for that Ja-Nareth guy, had been more than welcoming
to the Alphans.
He didn’t see Sandra, so she was still inside with Paul.
John headed toward Command Center after instructing the two guards to make sure
the patients got their rest. Sure that
they wouldn’t bar him from going in, Alan headed for the double doors after the
commander had rounded a corner.
“We’re not supposed to let anyone in, Mr. Carter,” said the
man on his left. “Commander says the guys need their rest.”
“Wayland, I know—I was there when they woke up,” Alan said
lightly. “They’re going need the rest, for sure. But I need to ask just a
couple of questions about Eagle 12 and what they went through as part of my
investigation. I won’t stay five minutes.”
Wayland looked to his partner, who shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt;
after all, Sandra’s still in there with Morrow.”
Wayland gave a silent nod and Alan thanked him, then used
his commlock to open the door. With a wave at Dr. Nuñez and the nurse who were
doing some paperwork up front, he headed for the recovery ward, where he found
Kano fast asleep and Sandra quietly entertaining a drowsy Paul and wide-awake
Professor Bergman with the story of the moon being pushed away from a populated
planet before being set into orbit of another.
“A permanent orbit, do you say?” queried Victor, who looked
up and smiled on his entrance. “Hello again, Alan. How fares Eagle 12?”
“She needs a lot of work, but the damage is not near as bad
as I feared. I’ve got four of the Recon team working on her now, and the data
recorder is in Walker’s hands,” he replied. “I will say, from what I saw of the
Eagle, you all had a rough ride.”
“Two rough rides,” said Paul, who tried and failed to stifle
a yawn. “Bloody spatial turbulence.”
Sandra patted the back of his hand. “I should go now and let
you get some sleep,” she said.
“But I don’t want you to go,” Paul replied. “I know it’s
been hardly two weeks for us, which is nothing compared to how long it has been
for you, but I don’t want to wake up again without you next to me. I can’t tell
you how much it hurt believing I’d never see you again.”
She smiled at him with watery eyes. “Probably about as much
as it hurt me to wake up every day knowing you were gone. Believe me, Paul, I
don’t want to go either, but neither do I want to impede your recovery from
whatever you went through to get here. So please, go to sleep. Get your
strength back. One of the doctors or a nurse can call me the moment you’re
awake, and I will come right down to see you no matter what time it is.”
When he yawned again, Paul had to concede defeat and admit
he was tired. Sandra stood and leaned over to give him a kiss, which he heartily
returned before letting her get away from him. As she passed Alan, she paused
and said, “I will go to the data lab and see how far Walker’s got on the
Eagle’s recorder.”
Alan nodded, then looked to their friends. Drawing a breath,
he said. “Damn, but it’s good to see you all again. It really did a number on
all of us to have to leave you behind.”
“A search was initiated, I presume?” Victor asked.
“Of course, Professor,” he replied. “And it about killed
John to have to give the order to call it off. But with as fast as the moon was
traveling…”
Victor waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Do not trouble
yourself, Alan. I’ll tell John the same when next we speak. I know he
did what he had to do, as do Paul and David. We none of us blame anyone here
for the circumstances we found ourselves in.”
“Well, you sure are a lucky bunch of dingos,” Alan said
then. “Especially you.”
The professor glanced for a moment at Paul and Kano, both of
whom were sleeping now. “Yes, well, I have them to thank for it. I was a goner
when they reached me, having lost all my air. I’d passed out and was near to
freezing, from what they told me—though the suit certainly did that part of its job, keeping the cold
at bay so well as it did.”
“Paul said you had two rough rides—I remember spatial
turbulence disrupted communication once… Did he mean it happened again?”
Victor nodded. “Apparently both communications and
navigation were knocked out the first time, and Paul had to spot for the moon
manually. But as he flew toward Alpha, we hit turbulence again. Knocked him and
David out for some hours, and by the time they woke, the moon had moved out of
range. I learned of our fate the next day when I finally woke up.”
“Any idea how you got here?” Alan asked. “Even I’m aware that the chances of there
being two space warps, starting at different points in time but leading to the
same alternate reality at near the same time, is beyond astronomical.”
“Indeed. I believe I am as hopeful as you are that the data
recorder will hold some answers.”
“Which will have to wait, Professor Bergman. You’re supposed
to be resting.”
Alan turned at the female voice that came from behind him.
It was that Vulcan doctor he’d met up on Journey.
“I thought you were Starfleet? What are you still doing here?”
She raised a slanted eyebrow. “Just because you met me on a
Starfleet vessel doesn’t mean I work for Starfleet. Am I wearing a uniform?”
He studied her clothing, a pale blue blouse and tan trousers
topped with a white lab coat. “No. I suppose not.”
“Perhaps you confused me with Dr. Anil, Journey’s CMO. I suppose we are very similar in appearance, but she
is Romulan and I am Vulcan. Our peoples do share ancestry, however, and the
mistake is commonly made.”
Alan shook his head. “No, you have a little mole on your
face, she doesn’t. But, uh, the eyebrows and ears are very similar. And yeah, I
figured since you were up there, you were one of them.”
“The other doctor had a more sallow skin tone as well,” said
Victor. “Hers is a much deeper yellow than your own, with just a hint of green.”
A bemused expression came to the woman’s face. “That is a
product of evolution, Professor. The atmosphere of the Romulan homeworld allows
in certain forms of radiation that colors their skin anything from pale yellow
to olive green, but is otherwise perfectly harmless. Light-skinned Vulcans,
such as myself, tend more toward a pale yellow that makes us look jaundiced.”
She stepped closer. “As to why I am still here, it’s because
I work here now—at least for the next few months. I’m Dr. Sanai Grayson. On the
advice of Dr. Nir’ahn, Dr. Russell requested a specialist in hybrid genetics to
advise her regarding the pregnancy of one of your crew, as the medical staff is
inexperienced with blended biologies.”
“Oh, right. I remember now,” Alan mumbled, recalling the
discussion that took place during a staff meeting before he went off with Maya
and Annika Hansen on a field trip.
“Is there a problem?” Grayson asked.
He shook his head. “No, not at all. I just didn’t realize
anyone would be working here longer than the next couple of weeks for the
terraforming stuff.”
A fuller smile graced her lips. “I am sure I will be gone
and out of your hair in but a few months. But until then, I must ask you to
leave. We still don’t know precisely what they went through on their journey
here, and a calm environment will serve them much better than being pestered
with questions.”
Alan lifted his hands to his hips and scowled. “Hey, I
wasn’t pestering anyone. And these
men are my friends.”
The eyebrow lifted again, and he wondered if the annoying
gesture was commonly employed by Vulcans. “I understand that they are your
friends, and that you’ve thought them dead for more than four years. But right
now they are my patients and they need their rest.”
“Alan, it’s all right,” said Victor as he drew breath to
argue. “Paul and David are already asleep, and I am growing rather fatigued. We
can talk later.”
Only the acknowledgement that he really should go made him
incline his head in agreement. Alan sighed, stifling the urge to scowl again at
the doctor—she was the second damn Vulcan to irritate him in less than an hour.
“Sleep well, Professor,” he said, then turned on his heel
and marched out.
Victor watched as Grayson followed him with her eyes. “I beg
you would forgive Mr. Carter, Dr. Grayson. He’s a good man, though perhaps a
little too quick to let his feathers get ruffled.”
“Indeed. Though loyalty and friendship are to be admired,
Professor, so I will credit him that.”
The professor smiled as he settled a little deeper into the
bed. “Welcome to Moonbase Alpha, Dr. Grayson.”
<>
It was unusual that a meeting of the senior staff would be
called in the evening, but right before 8 p.m. Sandra signaled from the data
lab to report that she and Walker had found something significant about the
data recorder from Eagle 12.
That she had specifically asked to either hold the meeting
in Medical or to have Victor, Paul, and Kano brought to a conference room was
both baffling and intriguing. John Koenig could not ignore the almost desperate
eagerness of her tone, and arranged with Helena to have the men brought up to
his old office in the Main Mission tower where everyone would be more
comfortable. Besides the senior staff, attending the conference was Dr.
Grayson, who would help monitor the patients’ vitals, and Lt. Commander
Catherine Ross of Starfleet, the officer in charge of the terraforming project.
The latter had been with him discussing the plan to disperse her soil
cultivator nanites across the Plato Crater when he got the call and asked if
she might sit in.
On seeing Alan frown when he walked into the office, Koenig
quickly took him aside and asked what was wrong. His chief pilot expressed his
belief that he did not think either of the non-Alphans had a right to be there,
Ross most of all. The commander sighed and explained that although her
specialty was evolutionary ecology, he had agreed to her presence as the base’s
senior Starfleet representative.
“After all, we are depending on their generosity a great
deal, Alan,” he said. “It makes sense to repay them in any way we can, including
letting them in on this little mystery of ours.”
“Forgive me, Commander,” Alan said, and John could see the
younger man was making a conscious effort contain his irritation. His voice was
lower when he spoke next. “It’s just… Well, I don’t particularly care for the
superior attitude some of them have thrown our way. I mean, I get that we’re
from a past their Earth never experienced, and that our technology is
different, but that does not make us
inferior!”
Koenig thought of the altercation Alan had gotten into a
little over a week ago, in which one of Captain Murphy’s crew had referred to
the Alphans as “primitive apes.” An apology had been issued, but that didn’t
mean the pilot’s feelings were assuaged.
“You are correct, Mr. Carter,” said Dr. Grayson, who came up
to them then. Alan’s frown became a scowl. “I beg your pardon, I did not mean
to eavesdrop. I’m afraid that my people have a heightened sense of hearing, and
being so close I could not miss your words.”
Grayson glanced around, then stepped a little closer. “Starfleet
officers have an unfortunate tendency to think themselves superior to everyone,
whether there is truth in that or not. They become so caught up in their
careers, some of them, that they forget how to be decent, considerate people.”
She then offered a smile. “Do try to take the attitude with
a grain of salt, Mr. Carter. There are some of them that are kind and
personable—you just have to sift through the bad ones to find the good ones.”
Alan appeared to not know how to reply to that, so Koenig
said, “Thank you, Dr. Grayson. We’ll certainly keep it in mind. But it looks as
though everyone is here now, so we’d better get started.”
Sandra stood nervously next to the viewscreen on the far
wall of the office. “Thank you for being here,” she began when everyone had
settled. “I know it is short notice and late in the evening, but Walker and I
found something very unusual on the
data recorder that I thought the senior staff should be made aware of right
away.”
“It’s quite all right, Sandra,” said Koenig. “Why don’t you
tell us what you found?”
“Well, besides the usual things that are found on a data
recorder—which of course we logged into Computer—there were thirteen other files,
twelve of which are encrypted,” she began. “We did everything we could to open
them, and Walker is still working on it, but so far we have got nothing from
them.”
“Perhaps one of our people can take a look, if Commander
Koenig doesn’t mind,” suggested Catherine Ross. “Not one of my team, I mean,
but a specialist in computer technology.”
“I’m sure Kano can handle it, soon as Dr. Russell clears
him,” said Alan gruffly. “No one knows computers better than he does.”
“I’m certain your crew is better suited to understanding
your technology—” Ross started to say.
Alan interrupted her with “Because it’s so bloody primitive
compared to yours, is that what you mean?”
“Alan,” Koenig said, his tone one of warning.
“On the contrary,” replied Ross. “I meant only because you
are more familiar with it.”
“I appreciate the offer, Commander Ross,” Koenig told her,
hoping to stave off any further hostility. “Perhaps if my people continue to
have no luck decrypting the files, I’ll speak to one of the captains above us.”
He looked back to Sandra. “What about the thirteenth file?”
Sandra’s gaze traveled to Victor in a manner that belied
confusion. “It was a video file, Commander, recorded by Professor Bergman.”
All other eyes moved to look at Victor, who frowned and
lifted his shoulders. “I’ve no idea what she’s talking about. I don’t recall
any of us making any sort of log or recording in those eleven days.”
Paul and Kano both shrugged and shook their heads. “I don’t
either, Commander,” Paul agreed. “We just fixed what damage we could, ate the
MREs when hungry…”
Sandra activated her commlock. “Benes to Walker.”
“Walker here. You
ready for the video?”
“Yes. Please link to the viewscreen in Commander Koenig’s
office.”
“Coming right up, Boss.”
A moment after she keyed the viewscreen on, an image of
Victor appeared. He was sitting at the desk in the passenger pod of the Eagle,
still wearing his spacesuit.
“If you are viewing this recording, then this vessel and its
occupants have been returned to where they are meant to be. Do not ask how—our
methods and abilities are beyond your understanding, and our discretion in
exercising them is for your protection. As to why… All are guaranteed a place
and a purpose even before the formation of their being. What is not guaranteed is the knowledge of what
that purpose is. Know only that the actions taken, the decisions made, will have
a profound effect on the universe for uncounted lifetimes to come. You must
have faith that events will unfold as they are meant to.
“Accompanying this message are twelve data files. Your innate
curiosity will lead to many attempts to access them, but you will fail. They
are locked, and will open only when their contents will be most useful to you.
Be well.”
The video faded to a blank screen. Once again, all eyes
turned to Victor, who looked the most surprised of all of them. “I don’t
remember one moment of that,” he said. “Not a single second!”
“Apparently, whatever entity or entities orchestrated your
return also took over your body in order to be sure their message of
benevolence was delivered,” said Dr. Grayson.
“You really think they were being benevolent?” Tony asked.
She turned to him. “You don’t? After all, Mr. Verdeschi,
three of the twenty-eight people who were lost to you over the last seven years
have been returned, alive and well.”
“That’s true, but why them?” said Alan. “Forgive me, but why
these three over any of the others? Why not everyone?”
“And if these beings can send three men across time and
space,” spoke up Tanya, “why couldn’t they have just sent us home before we
lost them?”
Victor crossed his arms, then raised a hand to scratch his
chin, and Koenig knew he was doing what he called “deep thinking.” He stood
slowly, and walked toward the windows. “I wonder if the reason they did not is
the same reason we arrived here four and a half years after you left us
behind.”
“What do you mean, Victor?” Helena prompted.
He turned to back to face the room. “Think of it like this:
You are a time traveler, and you have made a trip into Earth’s past—say, Nazi
Germany, but before it became known by that term. You know that if you
assassinate Adolph Hitler before he can become the FĂĽhrer, you may just prevent
World War II and save the lives of nearly eighty-five million people around the
world. But you also know you can’t
kill him, because his actions and those millions of deaths are a part of
history. They are fixed points in the timeline and cannot be prevented, because
to do so would alter the flow of time. It would affect every action from the point of his death all the way into the
future you come from. Therefore, I propose that the reason these beings did not
return the moon to Earth or even prevent Breakaway altogether; the reason they
did not return Paul, David, and myself to you before they did is because they could
not. The moon leaving Earth’s orbit in our universe, our own apparent deaths
according to your history, are all fixed points that cannot—that must not—be
altered.”
“When you put it like that, makes it sound like they have
their own Temporal Prime Directive,” observed Ross.
“What the devil is that?” asked Tony.
She looked to him. “It’s a Starfleet regulation that
basically says if you ever find yourself in the past, do not allow yourself to become involved in historical events, because
any action—even a minor one—can have a potentially adverse effect on the
future.” The ecologist chuckled. “Believe me, no one wants to have to deal with Temporal Investigations.”
“As to why us over anyone else…” Victor continued, “I can
only assume that we have some significant part to play in the years to come. We
are needed here, on Alpha.”
“I think it’s interesting,” put in Koenig, “that the beings
set the data files to only open when they were needed. They did something similar
to the three of you—you didn’t wake up until someone from Alpha touched
you—people who needed you. Dr. Grayson tried to reach you all telepathically,
but she couldn’t. She said it was as though your conscious minds were behind a
locked door she couldn’t open.”
“I see now that I could not open the doors because I wasn’t
meant to,” Grayson said. “I think I would like to meet one of these beings—they
are remarkably philosophical.”
“I am fascinated by them as well, Dr. Grayson,” said Maya.
“These people must have incredible power. And they must believe that we Alphans
are meant to be here—that we have an
important part to play in the future of this
universe instead of our own.”
Maya’s supposition led to many curious expressions, though
Koenig noticed a smirk on the face of Alan Carter. No doubt the idea of being
of some importance would serve to alleviate his rancor at Starfleet, for which
the commander could only be hopeful. Not so much that he believed they were important, but that there would be peace
between Alpha and Starfleet. They really
were heavily dependent on the Federation’s generosity at present, at least
until they were self-sufficient enough to not need them.
That, Koenig decided, would be their ultimate goal. There
was little doubt in his mind that, having managed to survive for as long as
they had with little outside influence, his people would wish to remain
independent.
“Commander, there’s something I wonder, after seeing that
video,” Paul said, drawing Koenig out of his reverie.
“What’s that, Paul?”
“Well, for one thing, do we tell the others that some
unknown alien beings apparently decided that the three of us were more
important than the twenty-five others Alpha lost?” he said. “Do we tell them
that there are twelve mysterious, encrypted files on that data recorder? That
is, I’m assuming that nobody outside of this room, save for Jeremy, knows about
them.”
Curious about that, Koenig looked to Sandra, who said,
“Jeremy Walker and I are the only ones who have examined the data recorder,
Commander. When we saw that video, I told him not to speak of it or anything
else we’d discovered until I’d had a chance to show it to you.”
Koenig glanced around at his people, at the two guests. “That
was a good idea, Sandra. And to be honest, I don’t think the matter of those
data files or the message the beings used Victor to record should be made
public knowledge. Somebody could take exception to one of the others not being
returned, and I don’t want to risk creating a panic over what those data files
might contain.”
He turned to Ross and Grayson, who stood next to one
another. “I know I have no direct authority over either of you, but I must ask
that you keep what you have learned here to yourselves. The information is so
highly sensitive, I fear that spreading it about could have negative
repercussions even for your own people.”
Dr. Grayson looked to Ross. “In my opinion, the information
having been found on a data recorder from an Alpha vehicle makes the contents Alpha
property and therefore an Alpha concern—not a Federation concern. I see no reason
to speak of it.”
Ross looked to Koenig with a resolute expression. “This
moon, for all intents and purposes, belongs to you—the Alphans. My purpose for
being here is to prepare it for colonization, and as the senior officer in
charge of the Alphans, that means I work for you until that task is finished.”
“And what about when you are finished?” Alan challenged,
feet firmly planted and arms crossed.
She looked to him with an arched eyebrow. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Her question made Koenig realize that Alan hadn’t actually
been introduced to Lt. Commander Ross; he remedied that quickly, making sure
that everyone in the room knew who everyone else was.
“Mr. Carter,” said Ross, “I don’t know if you ever served in
the military—”
“Of course I have!” he bit back. “Only military-trained
astronauts are allowed to fly Eagles. I could have been a bloody colonel by now,
had we not been blasted out of Earth’s orbit!”
“Then you ought to know, Colonel
Carter, that an order to classify information does not become nullified when an
officer is reassigned,” Ross snapped. “At present, Commander Koenig is my
de-facto commanding officer, because this moon is under his command. My return
to Starbase Echo, or possible reassignment elsewhere, does not negate any order
he may give me that does not conflict with my oath as a Starfleet officer.”
“So what you’re saying is that if John orders you to keep the information you
learned here to yourself,” broke in Helena with a calming tone, “you would not
only have to keep it secret from everyone on Alpha, but also your own people
once your assignment here is over.”
“That is correct, Dr. Russell.”
Koenig regarded the woman with a measured gaze. “You would
have no problem keeping the information to yourself if I made it an order?”
“No, sir,” Ross replied. “Not only am I an officer who knows
how to obey the orders of my commanding officer, but my father is a vice
admiral. I’ve learned a lot from him over the years about the need to keep
sensitive information limited to a select few. Besides that, I’m in complete
agreement that this kind of knowledge has the potential to cause a whole slew
of problems. Keeping it between the twelve of us and Miss Benes’ assistant
dramatically reduces the chances of the match igniting an inferno.”
“Satisfied, Alan?” asked Tony with a snort.
Alan scowled. “For now.”
“All right, it’s time to cool tempers and get back to work,”
Koenig said then.
Light laughter sounded. “John, it’s after eight,” said
Helena. “I think it would be better if everyone just went to quarters and
settled down for the evening.”
“Oh, so we don’t have to go back to Medical?” asked Paul in a
hopeful tone. “That nap did wonders, Dr. Russell. I feel great.”
“I’m sure you do, Paul, but I really would prefer the three
of you return to Medical Center for overnight observation. If everything checks
out in the morning, I’ll release you to quarters then.”
“You’ve just made me realize something,” spoke up Kano. “Do
we even have quarters anymore? After
all, we have been gone—according to your calendar—for over four years.”
“Your quarters in the Mission Tower have been locked since
we lost you,” Koenig replied. “I’ll make sure the security lock is lifted, and
Sandra can arrange for Maintenance to go in and clean them up for you.”
“Very much appreciated, John,” said Victor as he moved to
join Paul, Kano, and the two doctors, who would be escorting them back down to
Medical Center. “I do so look forward to sleeping in my own bed for the first
time in two weeks.”
Tony and Maya, along with Tanya, soon followed. After he
instructed her to inform Jeremy Walker that the information from the data
recorder was officially classified, Sandra also left the office. Ross started
to leave as well, but turned back suddenly.
“Commander Koenig, I’d like to take this opportunity to
address Mr. Carter’s behavior,” she said.
Not unexpectedly, Alan snorted and turned away from her.
Koenig, on the other hand, happened to agree that this sudden expression of
hostility toward Starfleet needed to be addressed.
“Go ahead, Miss Ross.”
Her eyes moved to Alan’s back; though he did not look at
her, she addressed her remarks to him. “It is clear to me that you have an
issue with Starfleet, Mr. Carter, but what I would like to know is…why? As far
as I know, we have been nothing but helpful. You need us—”
Alan whirled to face her and lifted his hand to point.
“That’s it! That right there—that damn superior attitude you people keep giving
off. I’m fucking sick of it! We have got more than enough shit to deal with
without holier-than-thou Starfleet officers reminding us how much we need the
Federation’s help, or insulting our people and technology because you and yours
are so fucking superior. We may not have your level of advancement, Commander
Ross, but that does not make us
inferior to you! And I’m pretty damn sure our people know how much we’re
dependent on the Federation’s generosity
without high-and-mighty Starfleet lording it over us every chance you get!”
He scoffed heavily. “I mean, do you people get off on it or
something? Coming across less advanced cultures and saying ‘Here, let us make
you dependent on us by helping make your lives better with our vastly superior
technology and knowledge.’ There’s not a damn thing wrong with anybody on this
base, or any of our technology! We were getting by just fine without you!”
Koenig was pretty sure he could see in Ross’s eyes the same
thought that occurred to him in that moment, which was that there was a good
chance they’d not be on the verge of having a livable environment right there
on the moon without the Federation’s assistance. Thankfully, she did not say it
out loud—neither did he.
“Alan, I know you’ve had a run-in or two with officers who
insulted us or otherwise got on your nerves,” Koenig began. “But the majority
of the people we have met here have been nothing but kind and welcoming.
Avoiding one planet and being settled into orbit of another was a necessity on
both sides. And they offered to help
us—we didn’t have to accept. They could have just said ‘Your moon’s in orbit of
a planet now, good luck’. But they didn’t do that—they further extended the
hand of friendship by offering to not only terraform the moon so we wouldn’t
have to go seeking a planet to live on, but figuring out how to rotate it fast
enough so that we will eventually have a natural atmosphere.”
“And it wasn’t so that we could ‘lord’ it over you, demanding
future favors or repayment just because we helped you,” added Ross. “This isn’t
a ‘We did this for you, now you should do that for us’ kind of situation.”
“Oh no, of course not,” retorted Alan. “Because what could a
bunch of primitive apes with obsolete technology possibly offer you?”
“Friendship,” she replied with a small smile. “You could
share your history with us, your knowledge of medicine and science and space.
No doubt you’ve encountered creatures and intelligent species we never have.
You can offer us a unique, unbiased opinion on the people we know and our own
history—no doubt there are more differences in the history of Earth than that
we didn’t lose our moon. A part of Starfleet’s creed, Mr. Carter, is ‘to
explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations…to
boldly go where no one has gone before.’”
Ross sighed softly. “It’s unfortunate that you’ve had any
bad experiences with Starfleet officers at all in the short time you’ve been
here—and I won’t deny that there are
people in Starfleet who think the way you described. But I sincerely hope you
know that a few rotten apples don’t spoil the barrel.”
Of all the responses Alan could have given to the end of
Ross’s speech, Koenig most definitely did not expect him to laugh. It started
slowly, suddenly, with Alan first raising his hands to his hips, then lifting
one to run it through his hair as the laughter bubbled out of him.
“What’s so funny?” Ross asked him.
Alan shook his head as though to shake off his mirth. “What
you said about apples. My nana used to say that all the time.”
He sighed. “I guess we’re not really so different after all.
I’m sorry, Commander Ross. I know I shouldn’t judge the whole of Starfleet by a
few rotten apples, but… Well, my only excuse, if there is one, is that we have
had a hell of a last two weeks. So
much has happened, I guess I haven’t really set aside time to process it all,
and things just kind of boiled up.”
Ross smiled fully. “I can totally understand why, Mr.
Carter. Everything that’s happened to Alpha in the last couple weeks has been
an unbelievable experience for you all, not to mention you now know that
unknown, apparently extremely powerful aliens are mucking about with your
lives. I think it would be enough to give anybody emotional vertigo.”
Surprising both men, she stepped over to Alan and hooked one
of her arms around his. “Come with me to my quarters—we can have a couple of
drinks together and forget about this nonsense for a while. I’ve got half a
bottle of Andorian ale tucked away in one of my trunks. Real stuff, too, not
synthehol.”
Alan glanced at Koenig with a frown, the latter asking,
“What is synthehol?”
“Synthetic alcohol, Commander,” Ross replied. “All the
taste, none of the effects. Though of course, there are those who’ve tasted
both synthetic and genuine who claim they can tell the difference.”
“I can already tell you I’d prefer the real thing,” Alan
told her. “I haven’t had a good drink in seven years.”
Koenig laughed. “None of us have, Alan. Just remember not to
tell Tony you had a drink tonight. You know he’ll get jealous.”
Alan laughed, and he and Ross walked out of the office
together. Koenig watched them go, relieved that his chief pilot seemed to have
made his peace with Starfleet—certainly the lure of a couple real drinks had
helped smooth the way—and sent a wish up to the heavens that there would be no
more trouble. He then headed out himself, intending to make sure the security
lock was released on the three men’s quarters before stopping to see Helena for
a kiss goodnight.
Maybe even more than a kiss…
<>
September 27, 2378
“I am curious, Commander Ross, about one thing.”
Maya looked up from the computer simulation she’d been
studying to glance at the Starfleet officer. She was a pretty thing, with
large, expressive eyes, chestnut hair, and a beautiful smile. A part of her
thought someone as bright and eager as she would be good for Alan, but he
seemed to have developed a strong dislike of Starfleet. Well, some Starfleet officers, she mused. He’d
got on with Annika Hansen and the two young people from her team well enough,
and he seemed to respect if not actually like Captain Murphy.
“Oh, call me Cate, please,” said the other scientist with a
grin. “Only the Starfleet crew actually has to call me ‘Commander’. What are
you curious about?”
“How are we to stop the crater from flooding?” Maya asked.
“I assume there must be some variance of weather, such being necessary to
promote the growth of plant life. But a heavy rain would no doubt cause
flooding in a depression such as Alpha is in.”
“She’s right,” said Professor Bergman, who had been released
to quarters that morning, but who had insisted he needed some useful employment
to occupy himself. Dr. Russell agreed that so long as only his mind was
engaged, he could join his fellow scientists in the little-used ecology lab
that morning.
“About six years ago,” he went on, “we came upon a planet
that showed great promise for settling. But its inhabitants did not wish us to
come and ‘spoil’ their world, so distracted us by sending hundreds of remote
atmospheric generators to the moon’s surface. We then had hope of being happily
settled on the moon itself, but a crater that is but four hundred sixty-four
feet from being a full mile deep presented a clear and present danger of being
filled up by rain and putting the base under water. We did look for a more
suitable site for a colony, of course, but it all came to naught when the
generators were recalled by their creators as soon as it was too late for us to
have chance of moving to their planet.”
“I see what you mean, Professor,” said Cate, “but can I
assure you that the size and depth of the crater have been considered. As early
as the 23rd century, Federation scientists had developed weather
control technology for the purpose of preventing extreme weather from having an
adverse effect on the environment. Earth, for instance, no longer suffers from
tornados, hurricanes, or blizzards. There’s still rain and snow, because the
planet still experiences seasonal change, but there’s nothing catastrophic to
have to worry about because the network of satellites in orbit are designed to
emit signals which disperse such weather patterns before they become
problematic.”
“And we’ll have these satellites here?” asked Maya.
“I strongly recommend at least one, to keep severe weather
from say, submerging the base as Professor Bergman mentioned,” Cate replied.
“You’ll have rain, of course, and snow will be likely at some point, but a
weather control satellite can keep problems from arising while the growth of
flora spreads through the crater and stabilizes the soil. In fact—as the moon
is not likely to establish a colony in any other crater, for the same reasons
this one would be in some danger—you may only need the one, set in
geostationary orbit over Plato. That way, when the population increases and
other communities are set up here, the whole area will be safe.”
Maya looked to Professor Bergman and found him nodding. She
smiled, then said, “I think, then, that perhaps we ought to request one of
these satellites, or at least the design schematics that we may build it
ourselves.”
“I think I’d prefer the latter,” said the professor. “Not
only for myself to have some small part in bettering our lives here, but for
the simple fact that it will make the whole of Alpha feel that much more
involved in creating our new world.”
Cate nodded her agreement. “I’m no psychiatrist, but I know
enough about people to say that the more involved yours can be in any aspect of
the project, the better they will feel.”
“And the more we do for ourselves, the less we will feel
dependent upon the Federation,” added Maya, thinking again about Alan’s
outburst from the night before.
“Speaking of the Federation… Do you think you’ll join at
some point? After all, except for Maya here, you’re all Human, and Humans are
one of the four founding members.”
Maya shrugged. “I really couldn’t say. Professor?”
He drew a breath, released it slowly, then said, “I don’t
think so, at least not for some time. I am sure that everyone here is as
grateful as they should be—even Carter, deep down—for all the help your
Federation has given thus far and all the help we shall receive in the future.
But I have long been aware of a fiercely independent spirit among my fellow
Alphans. While we’ll certainly not mind being friends—due in part to all the
advantages an alliance would afford us, given we are so few—I think the
majority will want to prove that we can make it on our own here. Besides which,
as our Eagles cannot really go far, we’re not likely to explore beyond this
solar system for some years yet, unless someone gets curious about the many
other worlds beyond our own.”
“I see what you mean. But I think your commander should be
made aware, if he’s not already, that the question is likely to be asked at
some point by someone who is more than just curious,” said Cate. “Adding nearly
three hundred people may not seem like much, given the Federation’s reach, but
when one considers we lost hundreds of millions during the Dominion War…
“The truth is, I’m sure the Federation Council would love to
have you. There may have been some debate as to what to do about you when the
moon first arrived, but now you’ve given them a perfectly legitimate excuse to
focus on something positive besides rebuilding the fleet. This terraforming
project, while it will serve your immediate purpose, will ultimately serve the
Federation’s as well in the long run. This moon will give dozens of scientists
years of work, if you’ll allow them to come here and study the evolutionary
process. People wanting a simpler life away from the core worlds will see this
place as a perfect opportunity to start over. Within the next few months or
years, you’re probably going to receive a countless number of requests from
people wanting to resettle. There’s also the fact that the location of this
system is kind of in the middle of a region surrounded by species that aren’t
always as nice as we are.”
“Which is a nice of way saying that we’re probably going to
need your help looking after ourselves,” said the professor.
“I’m not saying you’re not capable of defending yourselves,
of course,” Cate hurried to say. “But to put it bluntly, our weapons and
defensive systems are more advanced.
If we weren’t here and say, the Nausicaans decided to do a raid, I’m afraid
the chances of your survival would be pretty slim. Not just because they have
better guns, but because you don’t know them like we do. When so motivated,
they are brutal and they are ruthless. And they almost never leave survivors.”
Maya, whose people had also known war, turned to her new
friend when a sudden thought occurred to her. “Do you think the Federation will
see our being here not only as an opportunity to put officers such as yourself
to work, but also as an advantage to them? After all, with our being somewhat
vulnerable, they could use this opportunity to install themselves out here and
none of their adversaries would have reason to question it.”
Cate grinned. “You’re very astute, Maya—and quite possibly
also very correct. Whether Commander Koenig decides you all should join the
Federation or remain independent, Starfleet Command and the Federation Council
will no doubt seek to take advantage of having an increased presence in this
area. The Levzor system is already in Federation space, but we don’t claim it
because of the fact that the people on Levzor 5 are pre-industrial in their
state of development. Alpha, on the other hand, is considered an advanced
civilization. You give them more reason to be in the area and keeping an eye on
those who would otherwise take advantage of Starfleet not being here at all.”
Professor Bergman chuckled. “Seems like Alpha is already
serving a purpose,” he said.
<>
September 30, 2378
Reports had been written. Celebrations had been thrown. And
slowly but surely, Victor Bergman found himself, Paul, and Kano reintegrating
into an Alpha crew that had not seen them in four and a half years. That it had
been less than a fortnight for the three men made some of their interactions
awkward, but they could none of them on either side change what had been done.
The alien Maya was a fascinating young woman, brilliant and
beautiful—and after one particularly long discussion with her, Victor understood
perfectly why John had given her his place as senior scientist over one of the
others on the crew. He longed to see her transformation process, to watch as
she became other alien creatures or animals or even plants as he had heard she
could do, but accepted with grace that she had been restricted due to her
pregnancy. He and the others had offered hearty congratulations to her and Tony
on their marriage and the upcoming birth of their child, which would be the
first born on Alpha in their new universe. Her exotic looks and saucy
personality left him with no wonder as to why Tony had fallen for her.
The “Lost Sons of Alpha”—as they had been called by someone—had
missed the births of the two youngest Alphans, but they were all three of them
delighted to see that new life had not entirely been denied.
When the matter their place among the crew was discussed,
Victor said he was quite happy to leave Maya in charge of Science Section.
Though he agreed to take on more of the duties as her pregnancy progressed, he
assured both her and John that he was content to be the assistant lead of the
department, as it would leave him more time to learn of the new reality in
which they had found themselves and to indulge in his hobby of conducting
experiments.
Tony surprised everyone by happily ceding Mission Controller
back to Paul. It was too much, he said, to be the second in command as well as
head of Security Section. By giving up one of his responsibilities—indeed, the
greater of the two—he would have more time to spend with his wife, and their
child when it came. Sandra (and few could blame her) seemed determined to be at
Paul’s side as often as she could, as though she feared he might disappear
again. He, in turn, was content to have her with him more than ever, that he
might assure her he wouldn’t be going anywhere. This morning, rumor began to
circulate that he planned to propose.
Kano was reinstated as section chief of Technical. He was relieved
that Computer had not suffered for his absence, and praised both Sandra and Morika
Yasko for “taking care of my girl.” He spent a great deal of the first two days
after being released from Medical acquainting himself with the upgrades that
had been necessary to install, and was relieved that the system was not so
unfamiliar to him as he had feared.
All of Alpha was happy with Koenig’s decision to return
daily operations and living quarters to the surface levels. Many said that the
underground facilities had their uses, but even with only stars and lunar
surface to look at, one liked to be able to glance out of a window now and then.
That they would be able to witness the development of their environment was an
added incentive to being mostly out of the underground facility, and there was
not a monitor unoccupied when Catherine Ross played a recording of the
simulation for creating an atmosphere inside the Plato Crater.
Afterward, he spoke to the young scientist, once again praising
her ingenuity. She smiled widely, though demurred by saying, “The science is
not entirely my own—I have other brilliant minds to thank for the inspiration
to use nanites as cultivators. Drs. Carol and David Marcus, for instance, as
well as Professor Gideon Seyetik, are all of them pioneers in the field of
terraforming. Their techniques have allowed for the transformation of a moon or
planet to be accelerated.”
“Oh, indeed, Commander,” replied Victor. “Since learning
that the moon’s surface would be terraformed, I have been reading all I can
about the processes the Federation uses. I say, do you intend to alter our moon
with the Genesis Device? I know there were complications with the first, and as
a method of terraforming it was almost shelved entirely.”
Ross looked at him with some appreciation in her gaze. “My,
my, Professor Bergman, you are well-read. I must admit I am amazed you know so
much already.”
He laughed. “My dear girl, I am sure you know that when
one’s activities are restricted, there is little else one can do but read. And as a scientist yourself, you know our
curiosity is never satisfied; when first John told me about the plan—that once
the forcefield generators, atmospheric generators, and graviton field emitters
were in place your nanites would be unleashed—I knew right away that I must
acquaint myself with the method of what they would all do together. That is why
I sought out you and Maya from the start, if you’ll recall.”
“The Genesis Project was indeed shelved for some years, or
so the Federation claimed,” said Ross. “In truth, it was secretly continued by
Dr. Carol Marcus, in honor of her son David—I’m sure you read about that. She
eventually came to realize that trying to combine millions of years of
ecological evolution into but a few days or weeks was foolhardy. So they fixed
on a method of having it take only a few decades, at least on a planetary
scale.”
“Indeed, and it was Professor Seyetik who took up the mantle
of reducing the timetable even further,” Victor added. “His method can now
transform an Earth-sized planet in but thirty years, and larger planets between
forty and sixty. May seem like a long time to some, but really, to have a
hospitable planet from nothing in less than a century is astounding.”
Ross smiled. “And your moon, as you know, will be ready for
expansion beyond the Plato Crater in only fifteen years.”
“Yes, and the crater’s transformation will take but a month
total, until we can begin planting. Absolutely incredible, Commander Ross.”
“That is my contribution to history, Professor—scaling the
process down even further: confining it to a limited area allows for a colony
to be established almost immediately,” Ross replied. “That is where the nanites
come in, my cultivators. They can be programmed to roam only so far and remain
within the boundaries of the forcefield.”
“So they are microscopic versions of the Genesis Device?”
The two of them turned at the question posed by Dr. Grayson;
neither had heard her approach. “Indeed, Doctor,” said Ross. “The smaller size
of the soil cultivators and not
having them do everything at once makes the entire process easier to control.”
The Vulcan physician raised an eyebrow. “How very interesting.
I think I shall have to familiarize myself with your work, Commander Ross.
After all, I have a very intimate connection with the original.”
Grayson did not expand on the enigmatic statement, and
merely passed by them to speak with Maya and Tony.
“I only wish we didn’t have to wait to get started,” Ross
went on. “Unfortunately, Columbia
won’t be here with the rest of the equipment we need until next week.”
Victor chuckled at the frown on her face. “My dear Commander
Ross—”
“Oh, call me Cate, please. You’re not in Starfleet, so
there’s no need to be formal all the time.”
“Indeed—and you may call me Victor, if you like,” he said
with a nod. “But I was about to say that although I am as eager as you are to
get started on this incredible project, I for one am not altogether displeased
by the delay. After all, I’ve only been cleared by Medical to move about for
two days. Had you been able to get started right away, I would have missed all
the excitement of that first day of fresh air. As I told you before, I may be a
physicist, but that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in the processes involved
in transforming an inhospitable environment into a livable one. I want to be
right here with you all.”
Ross—or Cate, as she’d told him to call her—grinned. “Well,
I’ll certainly be glad to have you as part of the team. Besides, it’s your
moon—you should be a part of it. And you’re
heading up the building of the weather satellite, so you should absolutely get
to be there when we throw the switch on the forcefield and atmospheric
generators, and then fly about in the Eagles first spreading the cultivators,
then soil and grass seed.”
John and Helena stepped up to the two of them then. “What
has the two of you so engrossed, Victor?” asked the doctor.
“Science, my dear Helena—what else?” Victor replied with a
smile.
Helena smiled. “You know, I have missed hearing you call me
that,” she said. “I know it’s been almost a week since you came back, but I
have found myself blinking my eyes just to be sure I’m not seeing things when I
look at you or Paul or Dave.”
“To be honest, I have been noticing quite a lot of that,”
Victor confessed. “Everyone knows we
are here, and alive, but the fact that for you it has been nearly five years
since you saw us last…”
He shrugged. Helena reached out and touched his arm. “We
just have to allow that part of our brain that distinguishes fantasy from
reality to catch up to the fact that you and Kano and Paul really are here—at least, that’s what Dr.
Grayson said to me this morning when I mentioned something about it.”
Victor glanced over to where the alien doctor stood, still
conversing with Tony and Maya. “An insightful young woman, this Dr. Grayson.”
John chuckled. “Insightful she may be, but young she is
not—Dr. Grayson is ninety-one, Victor. We now have someone on staff who’s older
than you.”
“Ninety-one?” he queried. “She doesn’t look a day over
thirty-five.”
“Oh yes,” said Helena. “Dr. Grayson is Vulcan, Victor. Surely
you’ve noticed the ears and the eyebrows? They’re a fairly long-lived species, up
to two hundred years or more—though she is
a quarter Human, which might lessen her lifespan by a decade or so, from what I
understand.”
“To be truthful,” said John, “After the conversations she
and I have had the last few days, I’m considering asking her to stay with us.
She’s got degrees in multiple medical fields: hybrid genetics, obstetrics, psychology,
biochemistry, internal medicine…”
“Planning to replace me, John?” Helena asked.
“Of course not,” the commander replied. “But you know we
haven’t had a trained psychologist since we lost Bob, though I know you and Ben,
Ed, and Raul have done what you can.”
“I know, I was teasing,” Helena replied with a smile. “And
you’re right, we definitely need a trained mental health practitioner on
staff.”
“Do you not like Dr. Grayson?” Victor asked.
Helena’s eyes widened. “On the contrary, I already like her
a great deal. She’s very efficient, very logical and precise.”
“And unlike forty-nine out of fifty Vulcans, she’s not
afraid to smile or crack a joke,” Cate remarked. “You’ve gotten a very
different specimen of the species than you’re like to find just about anywhere
else. In case you’ve not already been made aware, Vulcans learned thousands of
years ago how to suppress all emotion in pursuit of pure logic. This was done
because their people had become extremely savage and were at risk of
annihilating themselves.”
John turned his head to glance at the woman they were
talking about. “What makes Dr. Grayson different?” he asked.
“She has chosen to allow herself to feel and even express emotion,” Cate replied. “Sanai said her upbringing was primarily Vulcan, but her father’s mother was Human, and she said she was influenced by her as well.”
Victor looked over again. “A species that refuses to employ
their emotions… How fascinating.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Sanai is, as Dr. Russell pointed out,
very logical,” said Cate. “She can make you forget she allows herself to feel
emotion. But I have seen her smile, and laugh, and even be mischievous.”
Victor regarded his fellow scientist with some curiosity.
“And what about anger?”
Cate now looked over at Grayson, who had moved away from
Maya and Tony to talk to Sandra and Paul. “I’ve never seen her angry, but I
know one person who has. He said you know you’ve crossed a line with Sanai when
she goes ‘full Vulcan’—said there’s a coldness in her eyes that is almost
frightening when she’s angry.”
“Well then, let us hope we never have to experience it,”
Victor said then. “Now, my young friend, let us talk some more about the plan
for terraforming this crater we’re in.”
<>
October 1, 2378
0030 hours
Helena Russell, finding herself unable to sleep,
contemplated going to John’s quarters, but even as she rose from her bed,
decided against it. He, more than anyone, needed his rest. So much
responsibility was on his shoulders, so many concerns… Though they had received
assurances that by the tenth of the month they would all be able to walk the
grounds outside the base without the encumbrance of a space suit, all the
preparations for getting to that point were weighing on Alpha’s commander. If
he was asleep, he most definitely needed to be left alone.
She dressed in a blouse and trousers, clipped her commlock
to her waist, and headed out of her quarters, thinking a short stroll would
settle her. Helena breathed deeply as she walked, as happy as anyone to be back
in the upper levels of the Main Mission tower. It just felt…right…that they
should all be there as the new phase of their lives on Alpha began. This
thought occurred to her again as she found herself strolling into Main Mission,
where three crew from Mission Control, Services, and Security kept watch; it
beget a feeling of coming home again to see them situated around the desks set
in a u-shape as in the early days of their journey.
“Good evening, Dr. Russell,” said the security officer.
“You’re up awfully late. What brings you by?”
She offered a smile. “Restlessness, I suppose. Just couldn’t
sleep, so I decided to take a walk. It’s so wonderful to see Main Mission
operational again.”
“Feels good to be back in Main Mission, you ask me. Feels
right,” said the girl with the yellow sleeve of Services.
“The commander’s up on the balcony, if you happen to be
looking for him,” said the security officer with a nod of his head in that
direction.
“Thanks,” Helena said, and headed for the stairs. In truth,
she’d hoped he was sound asleep, but it did not much surprise her to find that
he had turned out to be as restless as she.
He glanced up as she stepped onto the balcony. “Helena, what
are you doing here? It’s late.”
She smiled as she walked over and sat in his lap and wrapped
her arms around him. “I could ask you the same thing,” she said.
John sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. There’s so much on my mind
right now—the encrypted files from the data recorder, operations moving back to
the upper levels… I’ve even been thinking of granting promotions to all our
military trained personnel, not that it will be official or mean much in this
universe.”
Helena recalled the staff meeting the other night in which
Alan had declared he could have been a colonel had they not left Earth’s orbit.
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “The promotions may not come from the
military commands of our Earth, but they’ll come from the commanding officer of
this base, to whom everyone here feels unswerving devotion and loyalty. I have
no doubt it will mean something to them that you’re choosing to recognize their
years of service.”
She looked to him then. “What about you—will you accept your
own promotion? After all, you joined the Air Force what, about thirty years ago
now? What rank would you be?”
John scoffed. “I’d have made brigadier general in the next
few years.”
“Well, there you go! Perhaps you should do it for yourself
as well—in fact, if everyone starts calling you ‘Brigadier’ or ‘General’ rather than ‘Commander’, it might
make things a little less confusing with all the commanders and lieutenant
commanders from Starfleet running around.”
She felt the chuckle he loosed rumbling through his chest
and smiled. “There’s also the terraforming project, of course,” he said then. “What
to do to get it started, everything that has to be done after to prepare for
planting—if we even do any of that this late in the year.”
“Well, even if we don’t plant crops for food until spring,
there’s still plenty of planting work to be done: the planning of crop fields,
of orchards for fruit trees and shrubs, flower gardens to design…” Helena
observed. “And with the option of living outside of Alpha soon being a reality,
the few parents among us—as well as those couples who’ve been looking forward
to starting families—may want to look into building homes for their children to
grow up in.”
John chuckled softly. “Given what Tony said about a child
deserving a real home when he found out Maya was pregnant, I do not doubt
you’re right.”
He tipped his head back to look at her. “What about you? Do
you think you’d want a home outside of Alpha?”
Helena glanced toward the window, out of which she could see
a few stars. “I don’t know. Perhaps not right away—after all, I don’t have a
family to be concerned for.”
“Do you want one?”
She looked down to find John staring intently at her.
“John…”
“I know. We’re both of us hardly of an age to be thinking of
children, but I’d be willing to try if you are,” John said softly. “And I would
want us to be married first, of course. That is, if you’re not averse to
getting married now that we’re about settled.”
He then laughed. “This is not at all how I imagined asking
you to marry me. Not in the least bit romantic. But then, romance never was my
strong suit.”
“Indeed. If you had planned a big, romantic gesture with
flowers and candlelight, I’d have wondered if something was wrong with you,”
Helena told him. She then tipped her head back to study him in the same manner
he’d done a moment ago.
“Is it really what you want, John? Marriage and a family?”
He nodded. “Having grown up an orphan, I have wanted a
family for as long as I can remember. You know I had a wife once, who I was
very happy with. But then suddenly Rebecca was gone, and I thought I’d lost all
chance of being a father when she died. But occasionally, since meeting you—and
especially since learning my feelings were returned, in spite of my perpetual
boorishness—”
Helena laughed softly. “Stop it. You are not boorish.”
“Not all the time, anyway. But as I was saying, since
meeting you and learning that you cared for me as well, I have occasionally thought
about trying again.”
With a sigh, Helena rested her head against his. “I confess
I have dreamed of being a wife again,
and a mother. First with Lee, and then… Well, let’s just say that I haven’t
given up on the dream entirely. I just figured that, since we are getting older, that children were
not likely to be a part of it.”
“Dr. Grayson’s a geneticist. She could tell us if it’s
possible, right?”
Helena nodded. “I believe so.”
“Well, if you don’t mind the complete absence of romance in
this proposal…”
She drew back and looked at him, found John looking at her
with more tenderness and adoration than she could ever recall seeing. “I would like to marry you, Helena. I would
like to share the rest of my life with you—and if we are very lucky, to raise a
family with you.”
Helena smiled, and leaned in for a kiss. “I’d like that too,
John.”
They kissed again, both sighed softly, and together they
turned their heads to look out at the stars. For a time there was silence, and
Helena had just begun to wonder if John had drifted off when he said,
“I’ve also been wondering about Alpha’s purpose. Victor and
the others not only returning, but coming here…
The message spoke of purpose.”
“I believe it also mentioned having faith that everything
would happen as it should, or something to that effect,” Helena pointed out.
“But that’s what I can’t wrap my head around—the ‘as it
should’ part,” John replied. “That those three men were brought back to us
here, instead of in our own universe sometime in the last four and a half
years, would seem to imply that we were meant
to come here, to this universe. It implies that either we or our descendants
will have some great impact in the years to come.”
He turned his head to look at her then. “But what about our universe, Helena? Where we were
born, where Earth is without a moon, where Luke and Anna were left behind all
alone on Arkadia? Why weren’t we meant to stay there? What about the impact we
could have had in that universe?”
At first, she had no answer to give. Then Helena recalled an
incident from about eight months into their journey, where they had encountered
another moon and another group of Alphans.
“Maybe we’re still there,” she said finally. “After all we
have been through, all we have experienced, isn’t it possible that that last
space warp may have had some kind of divergence field?”
John frowned. “You mean like we were duplicated? Again?”
Helena nodded. “Why not? Just because we’re meant to be here
doesn’t mean we’re no longer needed there. Maybe, because the history of Earth
is different in this universe, because there was no Alpha built on the moon and
we weren’t blasted into space with it, these beings brought us here to correct
that.”
“What, like it was a mistake that never happened here?” he
asked.
She shook her head. “Not so much that it was a mistake it
never happened, but that the things we would have done—the good that we would
have done out in the universe because of it—never happened.”
Slipping off his lap then, she held her hand out to him.
“Come on, John. Let’s leave the wondering about Alpha’s purpose for another
time. How about, instead, you and I celebrate getting engaged?”
John’s eyebrows rose. “So that’s a yes? You’ll marry me?”
Helena laughed as he took her hand and got to his feet. “I
do believe, Brigadier General Koenig, that I already said I would.”
He laughed as well. “But you didn’t say ‘yes’.”
“That’s probably because you didn’t actually ask,” she
replied.
John stepped back then. “Then allow me to correct that
error, and do it properly.”
Helena shook her head, even as he lowered himself to one
knee. “Oh, John, this isn’t necessary—I was teasing.”
His expression was serious as he took her hand and said,
“Helena Susan Russell, will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my
wife?”
Tears suddenly stung her eyes and slipped down her cheeks.
Even in the dreams she’d spoken of, John had never been very romantic. She
didn’t mind, as they were both of them very practical people. But even just
getting down on one knee to ask her to marry him was the most romantic, most
beautiful thing he had ever done.
“Oh, John, of course I will!” she said, and bent to give him
a kiss.
Cheers and applause and a loud whistle issued from the three
crewmen below, and the two of them laughed as John stood again. “Now it’ll be
all over the base before breakfast,” he told her.
Helena laughed again as she slipped her arm about his waist
and they started for the stairs. “Do you mind?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not one bit.”
</\>
I enjoyed this story. It was nice to see it from the Alphan side instead of completely from the Starfleet side.
ReplyDeleteIn fact, I was almost tempted to write something where Weynik comes to Alpha. But why rain on your parade? Keep doing what you’re doing, please.
Seeing things almost completely from the Alpha side is exactly one of the things I wanted to achieve with this addition to the series. I'm glad you're enjoying it.
DeleteAs to guests coming in, that will probably be a little while, though once they have their atmosphere and everything, who knows who will stop by?
All the feels! Yes, I really enjoyed reading this! There were so many little character moments, with a great mix of diverse interaction between Starfleet and Alphans: the antagonism between Alan and T'Rae, Grayson and the Alphans, the more conciliatory Ross.
ReplyDeleteAnd I enjoyed the talk of the Prime Directive and the motives of the Celestials in bringing them to where they are now. The reiteration that the Federation and Starfleet would not interefere or expect anything back from them for the aid being given, but also the canny political acknowledgement that the presence of people of like-minded principles in the area could only be of benefit, not just to the Federation but to the pre-warp civilisation on Levzor 5 (another source of potential future story ideas!)
Ahh, Victor. He remains my favourite character, even more than Maya (though Maya was my fave when I was younger LOL) I hope that when more people come to visit and work with the Alphans for various reasons, that he meets someone special (but then I'm a big romantic, I'm told)...
It was really accomplished how you merged canon facts with ingenuity to build a history of terraforming bridging and connecting the Genesis Project with the later work by Seyetik from DS9 (but also mentioning the S1999 epi where they were all out on the surface having a beach party; I remembered that scene, but otherwise had forgotten the story).
Brigadier General Koenig? I like the sound of that (especially as it evokes another British sci-fi show whose name escapes me right now)! And speaking of romantics, it's great that the big lug finally found it the right time to propose to Helen... and with an unexpected audience, too! LOL
You've done exceptionally well integrating the world of Space: 1999 with the world of Trek, Christina - Congratulations, and I look forward to many more stories!
Thank you so very much for all your comments! I'm always delighted to hear from you. It really chuffs me that you think so highly of my crossover work -- you know how much I agonize over it, lol.
DeleteAnother excellent story!
ReplyDeleteI very much enjoyed how you built the mystery of what happened to Victor, Paul, and Kano, and even when it was revealed, you didn’t spill all of it, leaving aspects of it to be explored later.
I did like the larger emphasis on the Alphans in this one, making it more their story, yet still firmly set in the Trek universe. I’ll be very curious to see how they integrate into the Federation, and how their life on the Moon changes as they settle into making it a home.
I thought you did a great job with Carter, showing how his resentment had built and the reasons for it, and then how he let it all spill out. That was very much the Alan Carter I remember.
I also liked the scene with John and Helena at the end. If you never take this story further, that will stand as a great way to end it. However, don’t let it be said that I think you should end it here. Please keep going!
Thank you so much!
DeleteI'm glad you like the mystery. Can't tell everything at once if I want threads to pull later on, now can I? Those twelve data files, the unknown identity of the beings that are manipulating things - they give me the basis for possible future stories.
I was quite happy to make this story more focused on the Alphans and how they are beginning to adjust to their new circumstances, to the return of their friends. They've been through so much in so short an amount of time, and there's still so very much for them to do yet before they can take a step back and relax, lol.
Being that Alan was one of my favorites, I am absolutely chuffed you think I captured him so well! Little things building up until he loses his cool is definitely just like him.
And of course, I'm happy you're pleased with that last, almost sweet scene. I really hadn't had an opportunity so far for the two leads to have the spotlight together. And I suppose you are right, had I no plans to go further then it would be a good spot for ending things with the Alphans, but you can rest assured that I am not done with them just yet. There's still a fair bit rolling around in my head for them. Adventures they will take alone and with their new friends from Starfleet!