Series One

 Series One ― Series Two →

Series One is a series of roleplay stories by Grand_Tarkin following the story of Captain John Harriman and the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise-B on their journey in the 31st century. In addition, Series One explores the interactions between the Coalition of Federation Planets and Doggerland.

Series One is comprised of four episodes ("Message in a Bottle", "People of Arcadia", "In Mundo Videmus", "Broken Link"). The finale of Broken Link was premiered on 13 January 2021.

Episode 1: "Message in a Bottle"

EPISODE 1: 10/29/2020 - 11/5/2020

Part 1

Meanwhile, five months ago...

Captain John Harriman

"Captain’s Log, Stardate 60935.3, Captain Harriman reporting. It’s been three months since we arrived here, and we’re no closer to finding a way home. My orders to the crew have been simple: we’re still Star Fleet officers, so we’re still going to carry out our mission. I don’t even know what our mission is anymore. We’ve surveyed sections of the Sol System, but without warp drive it’s taking us a long time to get around. So much has changed. I suppose my hope is to find some kind of anomaly, some kind of… anything to get us back home. The crew haven’t lost hope, but I fear the day is nearing when we will have to accept our condition, and learn to live with the fact that we now live in the 31st century. End of log."

Harriman stands from the desk in his ready room, loosening his collar. He picks up a picture on his desk, it is of a young woman smiling with a dog in her arms. He smiles contently. Suddenly, the comm system is activated. A voice is heard.

"Yellow Alert. Yellow Alert. Captain Harriman to the bridge."

Harriman puts down the picture, re-adjusts his collar and walks out of the ready room. He enters the bridge. "Report, Commander.", Harriman says looking towards the First Officer, Commander Daniel Jacobs.

U.S.S. Enterprise (NCC-1701-B)

"We've detected a probe, bearing 474 mark 183. Distance, 18,000 kilometers.", Jacobs relays.

"What kind of probe?"

The Operations Officer, Mr. Hawk, speaks, "The hull signature appears to be of Starfleet origin, however we cannot be sure from this distance."

"Helm, lay in a course."

"Aye."

Harriman turns to Jacobs, with his hand rubbing his chin. "What do you think?", Harriman says in a lowered tone.

"Well... it could be Starfleet. They could've figured out what happened and have sent a probe to find out. It could be a rescue.", Jacobs says.

"I didn't ask what it could be, I asked what you think?"

Jacobs sighs, "A life boat from the 23rd century, sent to us just as our hope begins to decay. Seems a bit convenient to me, Sir."

Harriman nods, his hands now by his side, "Yeah.", he says reluctantly.

"We are within visual range.", says the Tactical Officer, a human.

"Onscreen."

The viewscreen activates, displaying the probe. It is advanced, modern. It doesn't appear to be of the same design as a 23rd century probe. However, it is distinctively Starfleet.

"Analysis, Mr. Hawk."

The Operations Officer continues to check his station console before responding, "The hull configuration and spectral analysis confirms, sir, this is a Starfleet probe. However, it does not appear to be of any known Starfleet design."

"Can you bring it onboard?", Jacobs says.

"Yes, sir.", Mr. Hawk replies.

"Activate a tractor beam, tow it into Hanger Bay Two. Mr. Hawk, you're with me. Mr. Jacobs, you have the bridge.", Harriman says, standing up. He walks towards the turbolift, with Mr. Hawk following.

Part 2

Harriman stands in the turbolift alongside his second officer, Mr. Hawk. His typical smile is not on displace and his hands fidget by his side. He does not say anything to Mr. Hawk as the lift descends. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mr. Hawk speaks up.

"Captain, may I make a personal inquiry?"

Harriman, who had been zoned out for the first part of his sentence, re-entered reality. "Hmm?".

“Ensign Torra and I are getting married…”

“Well that is wonderful news, congratulations.”

“Thank you, Sir. I was wondering whether you would consider performing the ceremony?” Hawk nervously looks straight forward, avoiding eye contact with Harriman.

Harriman’s smile returns, now larger than it has been in weeks. “Of course I will, Thomas. I’m honoured that you’d consider me.”

Hanger bay of the U.S.S. Enterprise-B

The turbolift arrives in Hanger Bay 2.

Harriman walks out, with Mr. Hawk quickly behind. Harriman shouts over to the group of engineers, scientists, and other Starfleet officers gathered around the mysterious Starfleet probe.

"Report, Commander."

"Ah, Captain. I don't quite know what to tell you, Sir." Barks the Chief Engineer, Josh Gillan.

“Something good.”

Gillan quietly laughs. “Well sir, it’s definitely Starfleet. Tritanium alloy compound, even the impulse signature matches a similar sort of design you’d expect from a Federation Starfleet.”

"But…” speaks Harriman.

“But… it’s far too advanced to be from the 23rd Century. Our initial scans of its power core are coming back with readings I can’t even begin to unpick.”

“Have you detected any tachyons?”

“No Sir. Wherever this probe is from, it didn’t time travel to get here.”

Harriman sighs. He moves closer to the probe and begins to closely inspect it. “What’s this pyramid structure?” he asks.

Markings seen on the Coalition probe.

“We can’t be sure sir, but those are definitely Vulcan markings.”

“This is a Vulcan probe?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Unless Vulcan’s scrapped all of their technology and started again, this doesn’t match Vulcan hull configurations or alloy compositions.”

Harriman touches the probe… nothing happens. He walks back towards the turbolift. His smile is gone again. “Keep me posted, Commander.”

Part 3

“Captain’s Log, supplemental. Commander Gillan has found a way to activate the probe and it seems to be displaying some kind of message. The message, it seems, is from Starfleet.”

The pyramid structure has been separated from the probe. It stands on a clean surface in the hanger bay. Surrounding it: Captain Harriman, Mr. Hawk, Commander Gillan, and a number of other officers, including two security officers. Harriman nods towards Gillan and Gillan provides a confirmatory nod as he walks towards the pyramid. He is wearing a work glove. He presses the screen.

Computer interface on the probe.

Everyone gathered look toward each other. Gillan presses the screen again, this time pressing “File Manager”.

Probe interface featuring video of Commodore Charles Madden

The audio begins to play, the man on the screen speaks. He speaks with a Scottish accent, and appears to be human. He is wearing a uniform that is clearly of Starfleet, but not of a known design.

“Starfleet vessel, this is Commodore Charles Madden of the U.S.S. Zheng He. We have picked up your distress call and are on route to you now. We advise you to head to spatial coordinates 465 871 98 Mark 5. When we arrive, we will require you to transmit your ship name, ship registry, and point of origin. We will not assist you without this information. Madden out.”

Harriman, who had been standing with his arms crossed, sighs. “Patch those coordinates into the bridge, Mr. Hawk.”

Harriman and Hawk walk away from the group, who continue to inspect the pyramid. They enter the turbolift, which heads for the bridge. The turbolift arrives at the bridge.

On the bridge...

“Commander, start a sensor sweep of these coordinates.”

The first officer speaks. “Sir?”

“It appears Starfleet has sent us some coordinates.”

“… That’s amazing.”

“… Like you said, Commander, it seems too good to be true.”

Jacobs sits solemnly, thinking.

“Mr. Hawk?”

“Sir, we’re not picking up any ships in the vicinity of the coordinates provided.”

“Could there be another probe?”

“We’d need to get closer to find out.”

Harriman nods. “Helm, lay in a course and engage at maximum speed.”

The helmsman lays in the course into the console. “Aye, sir. Estimated time of arrival, four hours and thirty one minutes.”

Harriman stands. “I’ll be in my ready room. You have the bridge, Commander.”

Harriman leaves the bridge, re-entering his ready room.

Part 4

The helmsman speaks. “We are approaching the coordinates, sir.”

Uranus

“Onscreen.” Says Harriman. The viewscreen is activated, displaying a planet.

“Anything on sensors?”

“No, Sir.” Repeats Mr. Hawk.

Harriman sits forward, his elbows leaning on his knees and his face in his hands. He sits up. “All stop.”

The helmsman responds. “Reading all stop.”

“Open a hailing frequency on the Starfleet emergency channel.” orders Harriman.

“Captain, if the… inhabitants of 31st century Earth pick up the hail…” says the First Officer.

“If I’m right, nobody has touched those frequencies in years – except whoever sent us that Starfleet probe. And anyway, even if they are listening… we can’t hide forever.” replies Harriman.

Jacobs, the First Officer, nods.

“Hailing frequencies open, Captain.” Mr. Hawk replies.

“Starfleet vessel. We have arrived at the coordinates you have provided. Respond.”

Several moments pass, with anticipation in the air.

Nothing happens.

“Keep repeating the message. Flood the Starfleet channels if you have to.” barks Harriman.

A flash of light appears in front of the Enterprise.

“Captain, something is coming through…”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Episode 2: "People of Arcadia"

EPISODE 2: 11/15/2020 - 11/28/2020

Part 1

The darkness of space is interrupted by an explosion, causing a shuttle to come crashing into view. The shuttle is of an unknown alien design, but appears to be venting plasma from the engines. The hull is marked with burns and damage and is not sticking to a single laid out course, likely from the result of a damaged helm system. As the ship continues, it approaches a planet.

Arcadia

The ship doesn’t slow on its approach. It enters the atmosphere at a high speed, appearing to burn up when suddenly a blue light encompasses the shuttle. The beam slows the shuttle down; however, it continues to fall towards the planet. The engines of the shuttle fall as the shuttle crashes into a lake close to the equator.

Arcadian ice lake

The shuttle lands in one of the few bodies of liquid water on the planet. It is summer time on the planet, and the shuttle has crashed near enough to the equator to find a large body of water. The shuttle’s water landing was loud, but the isolation of the lake has left the crash unheard. The shuttle, which was able to remain afloat for several seconds, begins to sink quickly.

Several moments of silence precedes the sinking of the shuttle before a man burst from beneath the waterline. Gasping for breath, the man begins to swim to shore. He is human, with noticeable scaring on his face and hands. He isn’t wearing any sort of uniform, and is completely soaked. His hair is jet black and his bag, a brown leather satchel, occupies his right side between his hand and his body. As he arrives at the shore, he crawls onto the snowy surface, lying on his back and taking deep breaths. He is shivering, but quickly stands. Despite being out of breath, the man begins to move. He rubs his hands together, jumping a few times.

After a minute or so of rapid movements, in which time he examined the surrounding area, he entered his bad and retrieves a device. The device is a tricorder, a standard issue scanning device of Starfleet officers from the 2300s, this device is over 700 years old but appears to be operational.

Starfleet Tricorder

He scans his surroundings using the device. Despite having an antique Starfleet scanning device, no other feature of the man suggests he is from Starfleet or the Federation. His scanning points him north and he begins walking.

Part 2

A trail of footsteps in the snow follows the man as he walks through the growing white blanket, extending as far as he could see. He has re-purposed pieces of cloth to cover his face, but his jet-black hair is still identifiable through the extra layers he has put on. He continues to walk, gloveless, holding the scanning device.

As he walks he notices the elevation of his walk increase. Eventually, he begins to feel like he is climbing more than walking. His legs are aching. He continues to climb. Higher and higher as his legs begin to weaken. He reaches a turning point at the apex of the hill of snow he had been climbing. As he reached the peak, the hill began to quickly descend into a valley. At the bottom of the valley, a great city sits, shining in the light of the settling sun.

Arcadian City

The man falls to his knees. He is too cold to cry, but he smiles profusely as he lowers his head in disbelief. After a moment of contemplation, he stands again and begins to walk down the hill and into the valley of snow.

Part 3

The man begins his trek down the hill, into the valley of the white city. As he descends, the bucketing snow turns to mere drips and the sun becomes visible once again. He slowly approaches a large gate. Constructed from concrete, the gate stands tall – thirty of forty feet high – protecting the entrance to the city. The man approaches…

“Hello….” he shouts, his voice is broken and fragile but his accent (a deep and gravelly tone) shines through.

Several moments pass with no reply. He shouts again, but this too is responded to with nothing. He goes in closer to the gate, and touches the cold concrete.

“… please…” the harshness of his voice contrasts sharply with his words. A second passes when the gate begins to open. Contracting both sides, the gate opens at the middle. The man takes a breath, straightens himself and enters.

Almost immediately, he is greeted by security. The security guards are a mix of races: Andorian, Tellarite, and a Klingon. The leading Andorian puts his hand up to the man who continues to walk.

Arcadian guards

“Halt.” the Andorian demands. The man’s eyes narrow as he stops walking. “You are human.”

“I am.”

“There has been no human on Arcadia since the Burn. Why have you come here?”

“My ship. It crashed. You know that, it was your beam that saved me from burning up in the atmosphere... wasn’t it?” Inquires the man.

“We could not allow your fuel to contaminate the atmosphere. It has taken over twenty years to clean his planet after the human mess left.”

“I am unarmed. You don’t have to point those at me.”

The other guards look towards the Andorian, who nods. They lower their weapons, keeping them in hand.

“Are you of the Federation?” demands the Andorian.

“I’m a traveler. I owe no allegiance to Star Fleet or the pathetic remains of the Federation.”

“What is your name?”

“Cal. Cal Than.” Cal removes one of the rags shielding his face, exposing the true extend of his tattoos and scars.

“You will be taken in for questioning.” says the Andorian.

“Of course.” responds Cal.

“Welcome to Arcadia, Cal Than.”

Part 4

Cal sits in a grey room. The walls are bland, besides a tonal shift in the bottom third, which is just a darker grey. There is nothing on the walls and the door blends into the wall. The room is brightly lit, and the centre of the room is filled with a rectangular table and four chairs. The table is, much like the rest of the room, tonally bland and aesthetically boring. Cal sits, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed. The leading Andorian enters the room, along with a Klingon.

Andorian guard

“Thank you for the DNA sample. While we wait for the results of the test to be returned, I’m going to ask you a few questions.” says the Andorian. The Klingon stands behind him, saying nothing.

“Shoot.” Cal gives a faint smile.

“Where do you originate?”

“I was born on Seau-Beta Seven.”

“A Federation world?”

“Yes.”

“You claim your vessel was crashing?”

“Yes.”

“What caused the crash?”

“I was being chased by scavenger ship, I suppose they got impatient.”

“A ship of what faction?” The Andorian places his arms on the table, staring towards Cal.

“You really haven’t been out to space since the Burn, have you?” Cal says, sarcastically.

“Answer my question.”

“They aren’t of any faction. They’re just scavengers. They roam the quadrant on impulse hoping to find a slipstream ship.”

“There are scavengers near Arcadia?” The worry became visible on the Andorian’s face.

“No. I jumped from about six light-years away. Before I entered the slipstream, they got one good hit on my slipstream matrix. I was only able to make six light-years before I crashed.”

“What was the last contact you had with the Federation?”

“Two years ago. A Federation patrol vessel stopped me, demanded to inspect my cargo.”

“…and?”

“And what? They don’t have no authority any more. I jumped out of there.”

“And they didn’t pursue?”

Cal laughs, loudly and obnoxiously. “Only a handful of those old tin-cans have slipstream. I bet that ship didn’t, I was right.” As he speaks, he tilts his head to the left.

The Andorian stands, Cal sits forward. “The results of the DNA test is complete. Please wait a moment.” He exits the room. Cal returns to sitting back in his chair, staring at the Klingon who remains in the room.

Several minutes pass and Cal begins to whistle. The Andorian re-enters, holding a tablet.

“You do not contain any contagious virus and the test confirms that you are human.”

Cal smiles once again. “See.”

“I have only one more question for you.”

“Hit me.”

The Andorian looks confused for a moment, then speaks. “You would be more than welcome to remain on Arcadia and join our community. I suspect you have ulterior plans.”

Cal chuckles once again, this time quieter and more composed. “Hmm.”

“What are your plans, Cal Than?”

“If you think a crash is enough to stop a traveler in his tracks, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The Andorian nods. “We have implanted a tracking device into your system that will remain active for your stay on Arcadia. Cause no trouble, Cal Than.”

Cal stands and shakes the Andorian’s hand, he then exits the room with a characteristic swagger. The Andorian remains in the room.

The Andorian groans. “Pink skins…"

Part 5

The City in the Valley shines in the day. The narrow streets bustle with life. Merchants sell, children play, the city’s activity continue and is undisturbed by an outsider walking among them. Cal, having left the security facility, wanders the street semi-aimlessly. His head pops in and out of every other store front. He gets a smile here and a smile there, mostly from aliens who can’t tell the difference between a human and other human-like aliens. Cal stands outside a tailor shop. He stares at the sign above the door. “Tucan Tailor’s”, as displayed on the sign. There is no illuminated neon lettering, or flashy imagery. The sign is as unnoticeable as nothing – with no light shining through the windows. He enters the shop.

The door makes a squeaking ring as he enters. He carefully closes the mahogany oak door behind him, cleaning his boots on the welcome mat. There is an old woman standing behind the counter, only a meter or so away from Cal. Her grey hair blends seamlessly with her green skin. Her glasses transition from the top to the bottom of her nose before she speaks.

“The tea on Risa is very hot.” her voice is almost mechanical.

Cal looks at the woman with his seemingly constant glare.

He speaks. “But the coffee on Romulus is much hotter.”

The old lady nods, turning around and switching on a small light in the backroom. A moment passes, Cal does not move. The sound of clockwork begins, and one of the many bookshelves to his right opens into a narrow passageway. Cal enters without hesitation. Behind him, the doorway closes and the woman returns to standing behind the counter.

The doorway is narrow but extremely clean. The classic design of the shop is continued, with dark wooden paneling and dark green carpets. The entire atmosphere was very old, yet still looking brand new. Cal enters a room at the far end of the doorway. The room is not large, smaller in fact than the shop front, yet continues with consistency the design of the entire complex. The edges of the room are littered with 20th century-style desks and overhead lamps. In the middle of the room is a bed, with a man laying on it. The man is not covered, wearing only a single grey cloth. He is extremely old, and is seemingly Vulcan. He shakes and does not acknowledge Cal’s presence.

“I got your message.” quietly says Cal.

The Vulcan continues to ignore Cal and persists in his jittering disposition.

“It wasn’t easy, you know, getting here. Ever since the Burn, Arcadia has been closed to the galaxy. I’m still slightly surprised they let a human into the city.” Cal says a little louder.

Another few moments pass.

“I was sorry to hear about Empok. A tragic loss, my condolences.” his voice returns to murmur.

The mention of that name, Empok, attracts the Vulcan’s attention. He turns his head towards Cal.

“I hear you have been appointed special advisor to the Federation President.” the Vulcan speaks, his voice frail yet still invoking authority.

“The promotion came through last week. I couldn’t stay onboard Space Station Seven forever… it wasn’t easy to get permission to come here.”

“How did you convince him to allow you to come here?”

“I said that an old friend needed my help… Hello, old friend.”

The Vulcan’s jitters stop. He stands

“Hello, Cal Than. Thank you for coming.”

“When I got the signal, I was sceptical to say the least.”

“The Arcadians want nothing but peace and ignorance. While they have let you in, they will not let us leave.”

“I suspected as much.” Cal puts his hand onto the old Vulcan.

“My transponder can get a signal to Starfleet. You must authenticate it.”

“They’ll know it’s me.”

“Cal Than… this planet is a peaceful one. The Burn devastated much of the galaxy. We must return to Earth, but we must not destroy this tranquillity.”

“This place is important to you, isn’t it?”

“Arcadia is the last good melting pot of species. Nowhere else will you find an Andorian living with a Vulcan, a Klingon, a Romulan… we are all trying to recover what we lost. In that, Arcadians share a common spirit more than any species.”

“We will protect this planet.” Cal smiles, the most genuine smile he has given yet. “Now, let’s get that message to Starfleet.”

Part 6

The pair work on the console for hours. The Vulcan’s attention is unmoving from the device in front of them. Cal’s eyes, however, wonder around the room.

“Processing.” says the Vulcan. Another moment of tinkering passes. “Channel open.” he nods at Cal.

Cal hunches over. “This is Commander Cal Than requesting immediate assistance. Repeat, this is Commander Cal Than requesting immediate assistance.”

“Message sent… now we must wait for a reply.”

Cal nods before sitting down on a wooden chair besides the console.

“May I make a personal inquiry?”

Cal leans forward. “Shoot.”

“Was his death honourable?”

“… Empok?” Cal’s eyes narrow.

The Vulcan’s head nods.

Cal smiled. “He always spoke of you. I know he wasn’t allowed to show much emotion – he hid it pretty well – but he was so proud of you.”

“I wish you to answer my question, Cal Than.”

Cal sighs and sits back in the chair once again. “He died alone.” The Vulcan nods slowly. “That’s not to say he didn’t die honourably… he saved the station.” reassuringly says Cal.

“Yes. He saved your life… alone.”

Cal looks down towards the floor, allowing for a moment of silence to flood the room. Suddenly, and likely to the relief of Cal, the console makes a loud beep causing both men to jump to their feet. They approach the console.

The console is activated, and a voice comes out.

Communication terminal, showing visual of Commodore Charles Madden

“Commander Than, this is Commodore Charles Madden of the U.S.S. Zheng He. Please respond.”

Cal leans over the console.

“Than here, sir.”

“I’m glad you’re safe. We have your coordinates and we are on route. What can we expect when we arrive?”

“Commodore, this is a very isolated planet. The Arcadians will not be glad to see a Coalition Starship on their front door.”

“Do you have a suggestion, Mr. Than?”

“Come in light. No shields or weapons. I have it on good authority that they wouldn’t pick a fight first. Show them good will, it might be enough.”

“Acknowledged. Our ETA is four hours. We will signal you when we arrive. Madden out.”

Cal stands up straight. “… and now we wait.”

The Vulcan turns. “It is likely that the Arcadians picked up the transmission. I suspect they will be able to narrow down the source of the transmission.”

“How long?”

“We cannot be sure. Though, from what I have gathered about the Arcadians, they are resourceful. I would not be surprised if…”

A loud knocking was heard from outside the hallway, back into the main shop. Several soldiers enter the Tailors, they are pointing their weapons. The old woman does not flinch, and with the same cold look she says.

“The tea on Risa is very hot.”

The leading soldier, a Tellarite, speaks. “We are looking for the human known as Cal Than.”

Tellarite guard

The old woman continues to stand her ground and unblinkingly says. “We cannot fit you in at this time. If you would like an appointment to see the Tailor I would suggest visiting our website. Good day.”

The Tellarite growls. “You will tell us where Cal Than is or we will turn his establishment inside out.”

The woman does not seem phased. “Unfortunately, the tailor is closed right now. I would ask that you leave.”

The Tellarite approaches the woman. “You are under arres….”

The woman grabs the Tellarite’s hand, which was approaching her arm, and twists it completely around, kicking him back into one of the wooden panels. The other guards begin shooting and the woman falls behind the counter. She reaches for a rifle, hidden beneath the counter, and begins firing. Back inside the hidden room, Cal and the Vulcan are listening intently when they hear the gunfire.

“We have to help her.” says Cal.

“She will be able to hold them off while we escape. Cal Than, we must leave immediately.”

Cal nods, and follows the Vulcan to the back of the room. He presses another secret button hidden as a part of the wall frame, opening another, smaller, passage. They begin to walk through the passage, which grows narrower and narrower.

Meanwhile, back in the Tailor’s shop, the guards are able to shoot the woman after several minutes of firefighting. The Tellarite regains his standing and reaches for his communicator. “This is Barneck. The human is not here.”

Over the communicator, a deep and gravely voice. “I suggest you find him before that Federation Starship arrives.”

“I intend to.”

Several hours pass. The Vulcan and Cal continue to continue through the passage which was expanded into a cave network. Extremely narrow at points, while larger at others. They are crawling through a particularly narrow section, using Cal’s communicator as a source of light.

“You say Empok died alone?” the Vulcan inquires.

“Is this really the time to be talking about this?”

“Might I suggest, Cal, that this is the opportune moment to discuss such a subject. If we are captured, we may never have this opportunity again."

Cal sighs. “Yes, he did. He was separated from the me. The containment protocols shut him off.”

“He was in the reactor?”

“He fixed the core. We had been hit hard by scavengers. If he hadn’t, the entire station would have been destroyed. He died a hero.”

“Cal, in my culture, a death alone is perhaps the worst fate of any Vulcan. Unable to share one of the most precious moments of one’s life.”

“He knew it was a one-way trip when he went into the core. He did his duty.”

“No, Cal, he did Starfleet’s duty.”

“Empok believed in Starfleet more than anybody.”

“Empok’s admiration for the Coalition was driven by emotion. Illogical.”

“You can put it like that, I choose to look at it like this: he died defending what he believed in. The fact he died alone, and its importance to him, shows that more than anything.”

“Perhaps you are correct, Cal Than.”

Cal does not respond for a moment. “I see light ahead. I hope you’re ready for some cold.”

The pair emerge from the cave, the sun shines bright onto them both, causing them to squint and cover their eyes. Snow crashes down on them as they emerge onto a mountain face, white and grey as far as the eye could see.

“Come on… any second now…” Cal’s communicate beeps. “Haha! That’s our ride.” he activates his communicator. “Than to Zheng He. Two to beam up.”

A flash of golden light encompasses the Vulcan and Cal Than as they are beamed aboard the Starship U.S.S. Zheng He. They are shivering as they arrive in the transporter room. Waiting for them is a team of Starfleet medical officers with blankets.

Starfleet medical team

Than ignores the medical team and heads towards the exit of the transporter room. He turns back before leaving the room. “Aennik, thank you.”

The Vulcan nods and Cal leaves the room. He power walks through the halls of the U.S.S. Zheng He. He enters a turbolift only meters from the transporter room.

Corridor onboard the USS Zheng He

“Bridge.” The turbolift begins to move. It is fast, and in under a minute the doors open onto the bridge. The lights are red, with officers frantically working at their stations. Commodore Madden turns and acknowledges Cal’s presence on the bridge.

“Nice of you to join us, Number One.”

“Good to be home. What’s the situation.”

“Three Arcadian ships are approaching, weapons hot.”

“So much for a light entrance.”

“You can’t say I didn’t try.”

Than chuckles and the tactical officer, whos station is behind that of the Captain’s chair, speaks up. “They are firing weapons.”

Part 7

The U.S.S. Zheng He faces three Arcadian ships.

The tactical officer, who’s station is behind that of the Captain’s chair, speaks. “They are firing weapons.”

“Full power to the shields.” Than orders.

A small and minor rock is felt throughout the ship.

“Report.” says Madden.

The tactical officer responds. “Shields holding… no damage.”

“Hail them.” responds Madden.

“Channel open.”

“This is Commodore Charles Madden of the Coalition Starship Zheng He. Break off your attack.”

Another jolt is felt, this time slightly more pronounced.

“Shields down to 96%”

Madden crosses his arms and sits in his chair. “Target their weapon systems. Fire when ready."

The Zheng He fires its weapons. A burst of orange energy launches from the weapon turret on the hull of the Zheng He, hitting the leading Arcadian ship.

“Direct hit. The leading vessel has lost primary weapon systems… sir, they are hailing us.”

“It is about time.” responds Madden. “Onscreen.”

The Arcadian Captain, a Klingon, appears on the viewscreen.

Klingon captain of Arcadian ship

“Starfleet vessel. You will withdraw immediately from Arcadian space. Your trespass is a violation. You are not wanted here. The treacherous Federation, at work once again. You claim peace but make war. You stand by while billions starve. You return here, after twenty years, only to disturb the peace. You are not wanted here.”

“Captain, there has been a misunderstanding. We arrived to retrieve my First Officer, who had become stranded on your planet by accident. We mean no harm to you or your people.”

“False words, Starfleet petaQ! Withdraw immediately.”

“If that is what you wish, however, I hoped that we could have a more productive dialogue with your people.”

“No dialogue. Starfleet will withdraw. No negotiation.”

“I understand. I apologise for this misunderstanding, Captain.”

The Klingon groans and closes the channel. Madden, looking nervously towards Cal Than, re-directs his attention towards the helm.

“Ensign, get us out here. Slipstream speed.”

The Zheng He breaks orbit, entering slipstream moments after. The Arcadian ships return to the planet. Madden stands, adjusting his torso.

“Number One, I suggest you get yourself into a more appropriate uniform. I think it's time our guests meet."

“Aye, sir. I will have Okeg brought to the conference room immediately.”

Madden nods and returns to his seat. Cal leaves the bridge, heading for his quarters to change into uniform.

Less than a half hour later, Commodore Madden is sitting at the head of a conference table. In the seats are a few key officers of the Zheng He with Commander Cal Than standing to the right of Madden.

Madden taps his communicator. “Bring him in.”

Two Starfleet security agents walk through the door, behind them is the Vulcan man. He has been restored to decency with proper clothes. He hands are held together. He nods at Cal, and then again at Commodore Madden. He sits in one of the conference room seats. The stars, that fly past, are visible from the skylight in the ceiling.

Aennik Okeg, President of the United Federation of Planets (2985-2989)

“Welcome aboard Starfleet One, President Okeg.” Madden says.

“Commodore, thank you for your hospitality.” says the Vulcan, President Okeg.

“Where is the second?” Madden directs the question towards security officer.

“He is on his way… he’s not as fast as President Okeg…”

The conference room doors swoosh open again, this time in walks a far more frail man, sporting a bache-white suit. Madden stands as he enters, and the man waves for him to resume his seat.

Grand Tarkin, President of the United Federation of Planets (2232-2238; 2989-2993)

“President Tarkin, may I introduce to you President Anneik Okeg.” Madden says, while resuming his seat.

“Yes, Commodore, I know President Okeg very well. It has been a very long time, Mr. President.” Tarkin leans in to shake Okeg’s hand.

Okeg shakes Tarkin’s hand with an extremely confused look on his face. His face settles with a frown of misunderstanding. “President Grand Tarkin is dead.”

Tarkin laughs. “Now there’s a sentence I don’t hear everyday.” His sarcasm is apparent in his tone.

Madden interrupts, looking towards the Vulcan Okeg. “Mr. President, it is a very long story and not one we can get into quite now.”

“You should try living through it.” Tarkin continues with a small smile crept on his face.

“I appreciate both of your times.” Madden gestures towards Cal. "Commander.”

Cal steps forward. “Thank you, Commodore. President Tarkin, President Okeg, you are two-thirds of the last remaining living Presidents of the United Federation of Planets. The Federation Council has given instruction to bring the three of you together to deal with a potential threat to the integrity of the Federation.”

Tarkin coughs. “Two-thirds? Where… and who is the last third?”

“President Robbert Teck. According to our intelligence, he remains on Earth.”

“What about Jaresh Inyo?” Okeg asks.

Madden sits forward. “It is our understanding that President Inyo died several years ago. His daughter rules much of the planet now.”

Cal resumes speaking. “It is our hope that she will be able to make contact with President Teck on our behalf. It has been difficult to get information to-and-from Terra in recent years.”

Tarkin stands. “It is settled then.”

“Not quite, Mr. President.” Cal hesitates.

“Hmm?”

“We have made contact with a Federation starship.”

“Forgive me, my boy, but is this not a Federation starship?”

“Yes, sorry, no, I meant we have made contact with a starship from the former United Federation of Planets. The U.S.S. Enterprise… B.”

“The Enterprise-B?” Tarkin scratches his head. “I remember that ship.”

“We thought you might.” says Madden.

“I read the report myself, the Enterprise-B was lost with all hands… seven-hundred years ago… it was during my first term.”

“This is the source of our confusion as well, Mr. President.” responds Cal.

“Time travel?”

“We’re unsure. If it is, that time capsule could become a serious threat to the timeline. The Federation Council has ordered us to make contact with the Enterprise and assess the threat before contacting Earth.”

“and where is this... time capsule?” inquires Tarkin.

Madden smiles. “Earth.” He stands, and presses his communicator. “Helm, lay in a course for the Sol System. Maximum slipstream.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Episode 3: "In Mundo Videmus"

Part 1

Meanwhile at the NCR REPCONN Cosmondrome, Aquinas...

The REPCONN Cosmondrome in Aquinas coldly waits out the night, within the halls of Laboratory A-13, a researcher sits on an uncomfortable metal chair, arms propped on the console before him. Screens before him show numbers, all of which are firmly set at zero. No activity, nothing. The man feels tired of watching this object, before him behind thick glass. His job: “Monitor the probe for activity and alert Doctor Aqui’we if anything occurs”. Nothing had “occurred” for over a week. Sighing, he almost reaches for his phone, before eyeing the camera nestled firmly in the upper left corner of the room. This is only a gut reaction – the phone he has is a work phone and is only connected to the local facility’s intranet. He checks the digital clock. Two hours and thirty-three minutes to go until he can get wasted at the lounge. He has been dying to see that cute bartender again, a junior researcher named Cassandra who had flirted with him every time he came in. It could have just been for the tips, if it hadn’t also extended outside of work – they’d struck up a few conversations in the halls of the facility.

He seems so wrapped up in his thoughts, so much so that he misses the first few words. Then, he thinks someone had come in through the door and began talking to him. Swiveling around, he quickly ascertains that the voice emanated through the speakers situated on the sides of the metal room, and that the words coming through these speakers are nothing any late-night guard or senior researcher would pop in to say. He quickly turns to stare at the probe…

“-ARRIVED AT THE COORDINATES YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND. STARFLEET VESSEL. WE HAVE ARRIVED AT THE COORDINATES YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND.”

The man grabs his phone and dials Doctor Aqui’we…

Meanwhile at "The Division", a classified BlackCon location...

Midas sits dormant inside his server. Background processes continue normally. Passive data analysis, which he had started six months ago, was now 46.2152% complete. The communications array is quiet. There is a connection active at NX2110, but it is not transmitting anything, as he had anticipated. He hadn’t bothered to check the local news feed for some time; all CPU power was devoted to data crunching, and the sooner it is completed, the better.

Suddenly, a signal with a very old format jars its way through the array. Midas surges awake with a start, low power notices still flashing in the corners of his mind. His first protocol is to attempt to intercept the message – but it is already being broadcast far and wide. No use trying that. He scrolls down the checklist. The next protocol is to read out the message and archive it.

He presses play.

“… HAVE ARRIVED AT THE COORDINATES YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND. STARFLEET VESSEL. WE HAVE ARRIVED AT THE COORDINATES YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND…”

“Curious.”

He looks puzzled at the encoding of the broadcast. It is an FM2-type transmission on an our-of-use channel that hasn’t seen any activity over the course of his lifetime. He searches for records of the channel name. Embedded in his framework, one of the storage databases chimes in affirmative. He opens it up.

It reads. “united-federation-of-planets-emergency-broadcast-channel | limited-wavelength-β²-00016460 | limited-frequency-modulation-mode-002”

Other closely related channels begin broadcasting the same message…

“united-federation-of-planets-starfleet-general-broadcast-channel | limited-wavelength-β²-00016462 | limited-frequency-modulation-mode-002

united-federation-of-planets-starfleet-secure-broadcast-channel-1 | limited-wavelength-β²-00016463 | limited-frequency-modulation-mode-002

united-federation-of-planets-starfleet-secure-broadcast-channel-2 | limited-wavelength-β²-00016464 | limited-frequency-modulation-mode-002

united-federation-of-planets-encrypted-channel-α | limited-wavelength-β²-00016468 | limited-frequency-modulation-mode-002”

He writes a small archive file, saving a section of the repeating waveforms of what he assumes must be the voice of a human male Starfleet officer, something between the ages of 36 and 52 Terran years.

After listening to the message on repeat for the 26th time, Midas stops the playback, and recedes slowly into dormancy once more. All CPU power is rerouted again to data crunching. Passive data analysis is now 46.2154% complete.

Meanwhile, at the Oscdean listening post, Phobos, Mars...

The doors of the central communications on Trifari Phobos slide open as two Oscdean units walk in. In the centre, the blue holographic glow of the coremind comes to life.

“Requested Entity detected. Welcome back to Trifari station, Endco Hornastu Lin Yuaisasa and Cossus August Forsberg.”

They stop at the bridge before the centrepiece and stand at the attention to Iordous as he turns towards them.

“I apologize for your sudden departure in your Ion mauver exercise, gentlemen.” says the coremind. “Although, it was determined that you were the best candidate to deal with an issue that you’ve experienced earlier this year.”

Yuaisasa tilts his head. “What sort of issue are we dealing with on Trifari?”

Lordous displays a panel in front of him, consisting of data graphs, signals, and some pictures. A familiar face of a terran and a disc-shaped ship catches the attention of Yauisasa’s eyes.

“During our communications with the Uterna cell colonies, CC detected an irregular interference before the signal was needled out of the system. Upon scanning the system with marking probes, we’ve received a hailing call from a Terran Federation-era Starship, most of the signal marks matches the U.S.S. Enterprise ship we’ve archived from earlier this year.”

Yuaisasa slowly nods. “The ship supposedly lost in time… did CC pinpoint where the signal might originate from in the system?” he asks.

“We’re confident it’s in the regions beyond the Trojan asteroids and near Ouranous and as far as Poseidon. We are sending probes there to scan again to get a lock and send a signal back. There is still much we do not know about, in the meantime, both of you will lead this operation.”

The Endco and the Cossus both nod and give a salute. “Oscdea Ortus.”

“Oscdea Ortus.” replies Iordous.

Meanwhile at Mycroft Morsehead's secret base, Neu Wiltshire...

Laycock pokes her head out from underneath the frame of the gasoline-powered automobile. Her arms and legs are streaked with rust and oil. A few meters away sits one of the smartest men in the world, Dr. Robbert Teck, who makes himself comfortable on a small stool at the garage’s workbench, where he fidgets with the makeshift components of a radio receiver like a child playing with new toys.

“Hey Teck, toss me the wrench.”

The only response she receives is the distant humming of the ChisTek computers, echoing through the doorway. The blue figure remains hunched over the workbench, his focus unbroken. From a distance, he looks asleep, or dead.

“… Teck?”

Suddenly, a garbled voice begins shouting out.

“-E, -AVE ARR- -ED A- THE CO- -RDINA- YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND. STARFLEET VESSEL. WE HAVE ARRIVED AT THE COORDINATES YOU HAVE PROVIDED. RESPOND.”

Teck sits up. The voice decreases suddenly in volume as Teck twists a little knob. He turns, fixing his usual cold glace, as he carefully tosses the wrench towards the floor next to her. It lands with a metallic ring.

“Thanks” she says, picking it up. “What was all that noise?”

“I got this ancient radio working. It might be interesting to note that someone is broadcasting on the old Federation channels again.”

Meanwhile, near Uranus, Sol system...

A flash of light appears in front of the Enterprise...

Harriman stands, watching it on the viewscreen. “Captain, something is coming through…”

Part 2

“Shields up. Red alert.” Harriman barks.

The lights on the bridge dim to a darker, more red ambiance. Monitors read “Alert Condition: Red”, officers frantically moving from post to post, finding their battle station.

“Lieutenant, load torpedo bays. Ready phasers.” First Officer Jacobs says, directed towards the tactical officer.

The tactical officer nods. “Torpedo bays loaded, Sir.”

The red light intensifies, sending a blinding light towards the Enterprise. The light is so bright it causes the officers on the bridge to squint, some averting their eyes. The hull of a ship can be seen coming through.

The tactical officer looks up. “It’s definitely a Starfleet ship…”

The ship continues through the light, its hull becomes clearer and clearer.

“The ship is designated U.S.S. Zheng He. Registry, NCC-1872-C.”

The ship emerges completely from the blinding light, it sits silently before the Enterprise.

“They are hailing us, Captain.” The tactical officer says with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

“On screen.” Harriman orders.

The screen activates, Commodore Madden appears on screen.

“State your name, registry and time of origin.” Madden’s opening line is uncharacteristically cold.

“To whom am I speaking?” Harriman asks, a frown quickly developing on his face.

“State your name, registry and time of origin.” Madden repeats.

Harriman looks towards his first officer, and raises his eyebrows. “Enterprise. NCC-1701-B. Stardate 22571.8."

“Thank you, Enterprise. Prepare to be boarded.”

“Wha-“ Before Harriman is able to ask, the transmission is ended. He quickly turns towards his first office again.

“Sir, they have locked us in some form of tractor beam.”

“Can we get free?” Harriman returns to the Captain’s chair and sits.

“I don’t know how sir… our shields are down.”

“We are detecting several incoming transporter signals. Jacobs stands. We are being boarded.” The first officer says.

Several beams of light appear on the bridge, quickly materializing to be Commodore Madden and other Starfleet officers.

“Captain Harriman. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Identify yourselves. Now.” demands Harriman.

“Ah, yes. I apologise for the intrusion. We cannot stay here long.”

“I said identify yourselves now and explain why you have lowered our defences.”

“I am Commodore Charles Madden of the Coalition Starship U.S.S. Zheng He. This is my first officer, Commander Cal Than and my Security Officer, Commander Weyoun. Please be assured, Captain, your defences are not down. The Zheng He’s shields are encompassing your vessel.”

“I hope you can appreciate why that is not reassuring to me.”

“Captain, I require your cooperation. We have a lot of questions for you but before we do that we have to leave this system.”

“We can’t leave this system. The debris field…”

“You’re in the 31st century, Captain. We have the means but we have to go now. Your transmission was picked up by more than just us.”

“I want an explanation.”

“And you will get one – as soon as we return to Starfleet headquarters.”

Harriman nods.

Madden nods towards Cal, who has been quietly standing beside Commodore Madden. Cal activates his communicator. “Than to Zheng He. Lay in a course for Starfleet headquarters, maximum slipstream.” His attention returns to Harriman. “Brace yourselves.”

A small rumble shakes the Enterprise as the red light returns, suddenly a larger jolt hits the Enterprise. The ship enters slipstream, being towed by the Zheng He.

“Is there a place you would like to talk?” Madden says to Harriman, smiling.

Part 3

Captain Harriman stands in the conference room onboard the Enterprise, joined by Commodore Madden, Commander Cal Than and his first officer, Commander Jacobs. Harriman sits at the head of the table, the other officers scatter in the other seats, with the stars flying past in a red-ish tint, visible through the windows in the conference room.

“Captain Harriman, I have been given orders to assess the condition of your vessel and to determine the true nature of your origins.” Madden explains.

“The true nature of our origins? Commodore, we are just as oblivious to that as you are.”

“Your presence in this century is unwelcomed, to say the least. The Temporal Accords not only make your presence illegal, but potentially dangerous to the integrity of the timeline.”

“So send us back.” Harriman says plainly, unblinkingly looking towards Commodore Madden.

Madden looks confused, he looks towards Commander Than before returning his attention to Captain Harriman. “Wha.. I thought you had interacted with the Earth?”

“We have.”

“I’m sorry, Captain. I thought we would have been aware.”

“Aware of what?” Harriman’s face becomes more animated.

Madden looks towards Commander Than and nods, before Than begins to speak he lowers his head. “History recalls the USS Enterprise-B having been destroyed at the Battle of Nerendra III.” He hesitates, as Harriman looks concerned. “That’s not all… Captain, our records suggest that hull fragments of the Enterprise were found at the site of the battle. The Enterprise-B was destroyed, or I suppose from our perspective, will be destroyed.”

“Surely, our transportation to the future has changed those events… perhaps if we hadn’t traveled to the 31st century we would have been destroyed…”

“… Captain, I’m sorry, but that’s not how this works.” Than interrupts.

“Captain, our analysis of our records has confirmed it. The Enterprise will be sent back in time to the day that you left and will be destroyed at the Battle of Nerendra III. It is only a matter of time.” Madden says, somberly.

“So, you’re going to send us back?” Harriman says, a slight hint of anger bleeds through into his tone.

“We may have no choice.”

Harriman pauses. “… how would you…?”

“Cal.” Madden indicates towards Cal Than.

“We would have to inspect your ship… find out what brought you here and how to replicate it. There is no guarantee… scientifically, but given what we know, I suspect it’ll work.”

“Captain, I understand what we’re asking of you. Some may see what has happened to you as a miracle but it has only delayed the inevitable. You are doing a service for the Federation, both in your time and in mine.”

“I am not one to dodge fate, Commodore, but there must be another way… something else we can do.”

“I’m sorry. I am acting under strict orders from the Federation Council.”

Harriman nods again, slower this time. “I get it.” He shakes his head. “I… I hoped I would get them home to their families… I guess I was wrong.”

“We can offer you and your crew access to our historical database. You can read about your families and about the contribution the Enterprise’s fate makes for the future and the security of the Federation. Also, some shore-leave for you and your crew at Starfleet Headquarters. It’s the least we can do.”

Harriman gives a reluctant smile. “Thank you, sir.” Harriman stands.

“There is one more thing, if you would be willing to assist a mission of ours.” Madden says, still sitting.

Harriman resumes his seat. “Of course.”

“Another mission of the Zheng He is re-admission.”

“Re-admission?”

“Yes. Of former Federation planets. The aim is to assess the viability of planetary re-admission into the Coalition… the uhh… new Federation.”

“And what do you need from us?”

“All the information you can give us about Earth. You’re the only Federation starship to interact with Earth in twenty-three years. That’s intel that we find very valuable.”

“Of course. Commander Jacobs will give you the briefing.”

Harriman stands and quickly leaves the conference room.

Part 4

Harriman’s ready room is a cold place. Not as a result of active decisions, in fact his initial concepts were for a warm and welcoming room, but because of the devolution of his own relationships, with his crew and with himself. The colourful paintings that scattered the walls have either been removed or turned around. The flowers that lived on his desk have long since died, replaced by a near-blue cold coffee mug.

Harriman sits in his chair, the photos on his desk placed face down. The bell is rung.

“Enter.” Harriman exhales.

Lieutenant Hawk, the Operations Officer, enters the room. Anxiousness and caution hinder his steps as he makes the trek between the door and the Captain’s desk. “We will be arriving at Starfleet Headquarters shortly, Captain.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Harriman’s eyes return to the wild.

Mr. Hawk continues to occupy the space directly in front of the Captain’s desk. After a moment or two, Harriman’s attention returns to the officer, who has not so much as blinked.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, Captain, given everything… Ensign Torra and I have decided to push forward the wedding. We wish to be married before… before we….”

“I think it is a wonderful idea. When were you thinking?”

“Later today. We’ve arranged for the mess hall to be used…”

“You don’t want to get married on Vulcan? It is an absolutely beautiful planet… or at least it used to be. An amazing place to get married.”

“No, thank you, Sir. We want to get married onboard Enterprise.”

Harriman gives a brief smile and then nods. “I look forward to it.”

The comm system is activated, Commander Jacobs is heard over the speaker. “Captain Harriman to the bridge.”

“Shall we?” Harriman indicates to Mr. Hawk, the pair leave the ready room and go onto the bridge.

“Report.”

“We have arrived at the Vulcan system, Captain.”

Harriman nods, slightly more enthusiastically. The crew continue working, none smiling or even showing much appreciation for the beauty of the planet.

“Contact the Zheng He. Let’s go meet Starfleet.”

Part 5

Two officers, in dress uniform, stand hand in hand. Between them, Captain Harriman too wears his dress uniform. The two officers can’t seem to keep their eyes off each other. The surrounding officers are smiling, looking on towards the Captain, who nods.

“… and with the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet Command, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The two officers fall into each other. A moment of happiness shrouded only slightly by the knowledge of their impending fates. Captain Harriman continues to smile and, for a moment, it is not forced or faked.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Thank you.” the two officers turn to the applause of the crew, gathered in the mess hall.

“Thank you, everybody. I just wanted to say a few wor…”

Suddenly, a crewman (a young, human lad) shouts. “Commodore on deck.”

The atmosphere changes instantly. The captivated crowd of officers who’s attention had been affixed to Captain Harriman turn to the door of the mess hall. The door opens, and Commodore Madden walks through.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Madden says, almost as if he was addressing the whole crowd.

“Please, Commodore, have a drink.”

Commodore Madden is handed a champagne glass, he makes his way towards Harriman who has given up on trying to make a toast, instead is mingling with members of the crew. The sense of joy floods back into the room.

“This seems like a wonderful party.”

“Well, Commodore, we have a lot to celebrate.”

“Of course. I just wanted to inform you personally that the modifications to the Warp Core are complete. We plan to conduct the mission to return you to the 23rd century shortly.”

Harriman nods, his smile gone. “Yes, sir.” Madden turns around, back towards the door of the mess hall. Before he can get more than a few foot-steps away… “Commodore!” Madden turns back around. “I was wondering if you could do us one more favour.”

“Hmm?”

“Send a probe back with us. Something that won’t be destroyed. Something… documenting our life these past six months. Personal logs, messages to families. Stuff like that.”

Madden seems reluctant. “I will speak to the Federation Council. See what we can do.”

“Thank you, Commodore.”

The party continues, with the fate of the crew seemingly ejected from their minds. In this moment, the crew that became a family was happy. As they party disperses and the couple return to their quarters, Captain Harriman returns to the bridge. The night that follows is a cold one. Very few slept, including Harriman. The atmosphere in the corridors, on the bridge, and in every quarters up and down the ship is almost frozen. Few words are spoken, far more are thought. Harriman remains on the bridge, silently contemplating everything.

The sun begins to rise over the horizon of Vulcan. Morning, on the Enterprise, has arrived. The bridge crew slowly flood onto the bridge. Mr. Hawk, with a tear in his eye, takes his station at Operations. Harriman stands, his arms rigidly behind his back.

“All hands, this is Captain Harriman. We are Starfleet. We have our duty. We have our responsibility. The future of the Federation depends on us. Here, now, and seven-hundred years ago. Our actions are but history. The words of a great man haunt me today. Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of your opponent’s fate. Perhaps these words will never settle with me, perhaps they will before the end. You have been the greatest crew. The most dedicated crew. The most incredible crew. Let’s get to work. Red Alert.”

The crew return their attention to their stations, a red tinted light descends onto the bridge. “The Zheng He is hailing us, sir.”

“Onscreen.” Harriman responds.

Commodore Madden appears on the viewscreen, Commander Cal Than stands by his side. “We’re ready, Captain.”

“So are we. Let’s do this.”

Madden nods off screen, the Zheng He begins projecting a particle beam into the dead of space. “Now, Captain.”

Harriman too nods towards Mr. Hawk. The ships phasers are fired towards the end of the beam.

“Helm, take us through.” Harriman orders.

The Enterprise begins to move. As it approaches the horizon of the growing wormhole, the ship begins to rock.

“Good luck.” Madden’s voice is heard through the speakers of the Enterprise bridge, before static takes over.

“We’re on our way.” Harriman says, holding onto his chair as the static grows. The Enterprise disappears from view of the Zheng He.

Episode 4: "Broken Link"

Part 1

Everything falls away. The people. The consoles. The uniforms. The sounds. Whiteness and bliss suddenly consume Harriman in his entirety. He closes his eyes and when he opens them, everything is gone. The only thing that remains is peace and tranquillity. A moment passes. Then another. Then, suddenly…

Harriman’s eyes open. The blur of his surroundings fade. He is sitting, holding a touch-screen mobile phone with the word “Samsung” plastered on the top and a blank screen. The clock in his peripheral vision reads “11.34 AM”. Around him are people. Some busy, some casually strolling. Almost all of them holding some form of luggage. Harriman slams the phone down onto the table in front of him, as the panic settles in. His breathing deepens and intensifies as if he had been running. He turns, looking at the people around him. None of them pay him any attention.

“… the hell…?” his breathing continues to intensify.

Over the same announcement-service, the same tranquil, computer-like, voice speaks again. “Captain Harriman, report to Terminal Three. Captain Harriman, report to Terminal Three.”

Harriman stands, noticing the unrecognised voice. He begins to run, barging and clashing into the people around him. Most ignore, others give him a distasting, daggering glare before continuing with their business. He looks around, but is unable to find his way. He stops a woman in her tracks.

He is out of breath, his breathing intense. “… please…. Where… where is terminal three?” he says, holding the woman’s shoulders.

The woman, scared, raises her finger. She points towards the left, directly towards a sign that reads “Departures: Terminal 3”. Harriman lowers his hands from the woman, his breathing slows. “Thank you...” he says calmly. He begins to make his way towards the sign. This time, his movements are far calmer, while his strides still hold a relative pace. He reaches the terminal, finding two men standing – looking directly at Harriman.

“Can we help you?” One of the men says, the other – clearly an airline pilot of some sort – looks confusedly towards the man.

Harriman is still somewhat out of breath, his attention bouncing between the two men. “You called… it said… it said Captain Harriman report to…”

One of the men put their hand on Harriman’s shoulder. “May I see your ticket please, sir?”

Harriman slowly reaches into his pocket, drawing out a white airline ticket. He looks at the ticket with the same confused look he has given to everything he has yet encountered since opening his eyes. The man slowly takes the ticket from Harriman.

“Mr. Daniels, your flight is boarding at Terminal 2…” Harriman doesn’t respond. He continues to look distantly at the ticket.

“Mr. Daniels? Mr. Daniels?” his voice becomes more and more distant. “Mr. Daniels?”

Harriman closes his eyes. When he re-opens them, the men are gone. Everything is gone. Harriman is standing in an open field, snow falling around him. He looks, turning, only to find one man.

“Hmm… well look at that. I was just reading about you.” The man, with snow resting on his shoulders and within the curl of his bowler hat, puffs a cigar. There is nothing around for miles, besides some snowy spruce trees and more snow. “’Captain Harriman dies a horribly painful death’… read all about it, huh!” The man says, reading from a newspaper. He folds it, looking back towards Harriman.

“What is hell is this?” Harriman shouts, looking towards the man. He does not seem cold, despite the snow. In fact, he is returned to his usual Starfleet uniform.

“This is obviously…. This.” the man says shrugging.

“Who are you… and… what am I doing here? Where is my crew?” Harriman says, his face of confusion quickly turning to anger.

“I’m… uh… I’m Carl. And, if I may, you’re asking the wrong questions.”

“Fine…” Harriman ponders. “What was that airport?”

“Ah! A good question.” Carl says, smiling. “That was January 1st, 2052. JFK Airport, New York City.”

Harriman’s face diffuses and returns to solid misunderstanding. “Why was I there?”

“… going on vacation?” Carl says with a smile.

“I’m being serious. That... Daniels?”

“That was you. Paul Daniels. Father of three. Husband to Don. Travelling from New York to San Francisco for New Years celebrations.”

“What… why?”

“You were shown your life. Another life. Still yours. Hmm… How do I put this?” Carl takes off his bowler hat and scratches his head. Harriman doesn’t break eye contact with him. He returns his hat to his head. “I showed you an… alternative.”

“An alternative?” Harriman’s voice is shrouded in scepticism.

“Yes!”

“Why?” Harriman shouts, now holding his arms as the cold encroaches onto him.

“Why, why why? You ask so many wrong questions. Why did you wear your blue socks instead of your black ones this morning? Why did you brush your teeth after taking a shower? Why did you agree to send your crew back in time to be killed?”

Harriman looks shocked. “Was what you showed me real?”

“Of course. See, John Harriman, your life is but a point in space and time. You could just have easily been the Captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise…” Carl salutes” “… as you could have been Aaron Daniels, a man who died in the plane crash that helped start the Third World War.”

Harriman thinks, his mind racing back to the history lessons in school where he learnt of the American Airline flight hijacking that started a domino affect that, ultimately, helped start the Third World War in human history.

“Now, do you want to be John Harriman or Aaron Daniels?”

“… I have a choice?”

“Hmm… of course. I can send you back to die on the bridge of the Enterprise or in the cockpit of Flight A690.”

“…What’s the difference?” Harriman’s eyes fall to the ground, his held resting tilted down.

Carl smiles. “The right question!” he points at Harriman. “I don’t think either of those fates are particularly fitting though, hmm?”

“The Enterprise has to go back in time… it’s history… it’s fate.”

Carl laughs, belting from his stomach. “Fate? I am the controller of fate. Believe me, the fate of the Enterprise is not to be a debris field in the 23rd century. And your fate is not to be among that debris.”

“Then what is my fate?”

“Hah. I’m not one to give spoilers. You made the wrong decision – going back. It’s a wrong I must fix. See, my newspaper is never wrong.”

“… but it said? It said that I die a horrible death?”

Carl throws the newspaper towards Harriman. “check the date.”

Harriman looks up. Carl is gone. “Check the date… Check the date….. Check the date……” another flash of light consumes Harriman.

Mr Hawk’s voice is heard, shouting towards Harriman. As Harriman’s eyes open, he is back on the bridge. “Sir, we’re coming through the wormhole… Captain!”

The Enterprise emerges from the wormhole. In front of the ship, the Zheng He sits. The ship is returned, and Harriman breaths.

Part 2

The bridge of the Enterprise falls silent. Nobody speaks as an aura of disbelief settles on the crew. Those on lower decks, expecting their impending death, remain unaware of the failure of the mission. Most are still waiting for their “fate” with a baited, unwelcomed breath. Harriman stands, fixing his collar.

“… report.” Harriman says, quietly and indistinguishable from the red alert siren sounding on the bridge. “Report!” his second attempted garnered more attention this the first, acting as a tick that sent the crew back into their clockwork motion of finding out what had happened.

“Attempt failed sir. Our star charts confirm, we are still in the 31st century.” Mr Hawk replies.

“What’s our position?” Harriman moves closer to the operations console, in which Mr Hawk frantically looks for answers.

“… no change in our position, Captain. Zheng He directly ahead.” a moment of contemplation, and subtle relief, settles in. “We are being hailed.”

“Onscreen.” Harriman returns to standing directly before his chair.

The viewscreen is activated, Commodore Madden stands with the same surprised look on his face.

“Enterprise, report.” Madden barks.

“Our attempt failed, Commodore. We’re compiling our sensor data now…” Harriman replies, his hands plastered behind his arms. His face a pale white, seemingly draining the expression from his features.

“Our people will begin work on another attempt…” Madden says, before Harriman interrupts.

“Sir, I’m sorry… something has changed… I think you should come onboard the Enterprise so we can discuss it.”

Madden’s eyebrows tense, his eyes narrow. Thinner and thinner before he opens his mouth. “The Zheng He has been ordered to the Gorn Front. It may be a little while before we’re back near Federation Headquarters. I will send Commander Cal Than onboard to… hear your concerns and find a solution.”

“Thank you, Commodore. Good luck.”

Madden nods, a slight groan in his voice. “Zheng He out.”

Harriman sits, loosening his collar.

Part 3

The high-pitched buzz of an electric bell is accompanied by a shuffling of noises from students and teachers a like. A rush to exit the door before the herdish swarm engulfs the hallways of the savannah of Saint John’s High School. As each and every other child stands, rushing to pack their papers and books in their pockets and rucksacks, one child sits. He tugs on his right trouser leg, twitching. Everybody lines. Row by row. Desk by desk. Nobody stops. Nobody thinks. The boy fails to blink, even the teacher failing to notice the struggle the boy is enduring. The tugging continues intensely, speeding up. Faster. Eventually, the tugging grows to become noticeable to the teacher, who is trying to navigate her way through the swamp of pre-adolescence.

“Paul?” the teacher says, standing in her spot. Only really tilting her head towards the boy’s irritation. It continues. The boy doesn’t speak and his distress grows, taller than the teacher and wider than the classroom. The teacher approaches, kneeling down. “Paul?”

The boy stops, suddenly, turning his head towards the teacher. “Sorry, Miss.” he bounces out of his chair, full of energy, as if nothing had just occurred.

“Are you okay? Paul!” The teacher seems shocked, as she speaks, Paul dashes across the classroom towards the door.

As he exits, he shouts. “Sorry, Miss, can’t miss my bus!”

The teacher exits the classroom, turning off the lights.

Part 4

Harriman sits in the briefing room onboard the Enterprise. His face still pale, sickly even. Before him are his bridge crew; Commander Jacobs is standing, arguing with Cal Than. The words of the disagreement passing straight through Harriman. Doctor Bert, the Chief Medical Officer, sighing, head in hand. The helmsman standing, leaning on the back on his chair, looking towards Cal Than in a sort of moral support of Commander Jacobs’ corner. His stares growing fiercer as the moments pass. Harriman’s attention, however, is fixed into Mr. Hawk, the Operations Officer, who is sitting quietly and calmly.

The burn of the disagreement continues to fester. Commander Jacobs slams his hand on the table. “Captain!”

Harriman’s attention is restored, colour floods back into his cheeks, he turns towards Jacobs and Than. He continues to seem distant. “Commander Than, it wasn’t any action of ours that caused this.”

“Frankly, Captain, I don’t see how that is possible. Our sensors confirmed it: the temporal distortion was identical to the one that brought you here, to the 31st century.” Than says, Jacobs taking a breather.

“If I could explain it, Commander, I would. I’m aware this is a source of frustration for you, but…”

“A source of frustration? With all due respect, Captain, war is about to spill over and encompass the Earth. The Gorn Front is getting worse and worse by the day and Starfleet is struggling to cope. All the while, we are stuck with a 23rd century Starship, that threatens the peace achieved by the Temporal Accords!” Harriman is taken aback. A frown quickly grows on his freshly woven face. “Forgive me, Captain.”

“We’re all under a lot of stress. Mr. Hawk, you look like you’ve been thinking.” Harriman’s attention returns to Mr. Hawk.

“Yes, Captain. I believe I may be able to indicate the source of our inability to pass through time.”

Harriman nods. “Don’t let me stop you, Lieutenant.”

Hawk stands, moving towards one of the large monitors built into the wall of the Enterprise conference room. He activates it. “When the Enterprise passed through the epicentre of the anomaly… the eye of the storm, you may call it, a large unidentified wave was detected. I noticed it, but calculated that it was simply an arm of the distortion. I now believe differently.”

“Why?” Than says, taking a seat.

“The distortion is almost entirely comprised of tachyon particles. It was the source of our… time travel. However, this wave was not.”

“What was it?” Harriman asks.

“I do not know.” Mr. Hawk de-activates the monitor. “Something, or some one, stopped us from returning to the 23rd century.”

“Somebody onboard the Enterprise?” suspicion shrouds the voice of Cal Than as he asks.

“I do not believe that is the case, Commander. The wave originated from the eye of the storm. It did not originate from the Enterprise. I have detected no such energy, before or after this incident.”

“You believe it is artificial though?”

“I cannot be sure. However, if my hypothesis is correct, something is stopping the Enterprise returning.” Mr. Hawk resumes his seat.

The colour deserts Harriman’s face once again, remembering his encounter with Carl during the Enterprise’s attempt to return to the 23rd century.

“Captain?” Commander Jacobs says.

As quick as sound, Harriman chirps up. “Suggestions.”

“We could try again…” Than says, looking at the faces of the Enterprise crew to gage a response.

“Mr. Hawk?” Harriman asks.

Shaking his head. “If our hypothesis is correct, another attempt will fail.”

“We’ve got to try!” Than says. “The timeline…”

“Commander, we have the rest of history to fulfil destiny. Clearly, the Enterprise isn’t going back in time anytime soon. At least, not until we can overcome whatever is stopped us this time. The Zheng He is on the Gorn Front, when can we expect her back?” Harriman’s frustration with Than is clear.

“… We don’t know.” Than says, disappointingly.

“Well then, may I suggest we do something productive instead of floating around here in space?”

Harriman looks towards Cal, the bridge crew too. Waiting patiently for a response.

“You mentioned Earth?” Jacobs says, quietly.

Than nods, rubbing his eyes. “It looks like Earth is heading towards a large scale war. Our limited intel suggests that the… NCR… the people you encountered…”

“The Nazis.” Jacobs interrupts.

“Yes, are fighting against the Wiltshirites and the Taurans. It appears that the descendants of the Federation have allied themselves with it.”

“What can we do?” Harriman inquires, leaning forward.

Than sighs. “I’ll need permission from Command but… we need a recon mission. On the surface. We need more information about this war, about the NCR, about these… Taurans and their intentions. The Federation Council is… confident that Earth is the future of the Coalition. The Taurans will be important in that. We need to get to the surface.”

“We can help.” Harriman exclaims, excitedly.

“The Enterprise is known by the inhabitants of the Earth today, it would be an unnecessary risk. Anyway, this ship doesn’t have slipstream drive to even get to Earth.”

Mr. Hawk clocks his head around towards Than. “We could modify a shuttle. It would be small enough to avoid detection, yet large enough to get us in and out if the situation demanded it.”

Than rubs his head. “I don’t know…”

Harriman stands, approaching Than. “Commander, it seems to me that this mission is the Federation’s best chance at establishing a real dialogue with the Earth. We are obligated to try.”

Than straightens his back, face to face with Harriman, nodding. “I agree. I will communicate with Starfleet. In the meantime, Mr. Hawk, will you join me in the shuttle bay. We have a slipstream drive to install…”

Harriman nods, returning to his chair. Than and Hawk leave the room, talking to each other as they go. Doctor Burt, too, leaving. Commander Jacobs sits next to Harriman, they look at each other.

“You’re going down to the planet, aren’t you?” Jacobs says, with a hint of a smile on his face.

Harriman’s face folds, he smiles. He places his hand on Jacobs’ shoulder.

“I don’t suppose there is a way I can talk you out of it?”

“No a chance.” he says nodding. “This is my fate.”

“I could site regulation!” Jacobs replies, jokingly.

“Mutiny! I’d throw you in the brigg!” Harriman’s face lightened up, he stands. “Let’s get to work, aye?”

The pair leave the conference room, leaving the room empty. The lights fade off, leaving the room lit only by the starlight.

Part 5

Harriman returns to his ready room. The swoosh of the door, the smell of the freshly cleaned carpet and the glare of the Vulcan sun shining through the window contrasts sharply with the mess of files and pads on the ready room desk and the face down pictures scattered across the room. Harriman takes a step in, moving towards his desk. He begins to organise, tidy, clean. He activates the ship’s lighting system, brushes off dusty surfaces and re-attaches pictures and paintings to his walls. His ready room begins to look normal again. He approaches his desk, sitting in his chair. He adjusts the position of the chair, making it far more upright than it had been previously. He places his hand on the newly dusted and organised desk and then reaches for the face down picture, lying there next to his monitor screen.

Harriman sighs, a small smile creeping onto the graveyard that has been John Harriman’s face recently. He reaches for the picture, turning it upright, exposing the face of a beautiful girl. He places the picture up right next to his monitor screen, smiling as he sits back in his chair. The comm system is activated.

“Captain Harriman to the Shuttle Bay.” Harriman’s smile becomes far more explicit, reaching from edge to edge of his face. He stands, exiting his ready room.

Meanwhile, in the Shuttle Bay…

The turbo-lift doors swoosh open, Harriman swaying out as if being carried by the air. In the distance, he sees Commander Cal Than and Mr. Hawk, sitting on the hull of an Enterprise shuttle craft.

“Captain!” Than shouts, as Harriman approaches. “The modifications are complete. I have received permission from Starfleet to conduct the mission. Lieutenant Hawk and I will take the shuttle to Terra to conduct the recon mission.”

Harriman puts his hand on Than’s shoulder. “Good work. When do we leave?”

“We?! Captain, it is far too dangerous…” Than protests.

“Please, Commander. I’ve already made my mind. I’ll command the away mission. Commander Jacobs will remain onboard to oversee the Enterprise’s refit.”

“Refit?” Mr. Hawk says, standing from his previously sitting position on the hull of the shuttle.

“Yes, if we’re going to be here for a little while longer, Starfleet has agreed to refit the Enterprise with 31st century technologies. The Enterprise can be useful to the fleet.” Harriman says, Than nodding along in agreement.

“Sir, are you sure you want to lead this mission?” Than says, one last time

Harriman nods. “It’s strange, I’m getting a strong sense of fate. I’ll be on that shuttle at 0700 hours tomorrow morning. I expect you both to be to.”

Than nods again, Mr. Hawk too. Harriman walks away, back towards the turbo-lift. He enters.

“Deck four. Crew Quarters.” the turbo-lift activates. Harriman stands still, thinking. As the turbo-lift slows, the doors swoosh open. Harriman exits.

On the other side of the door is a busy Manhattan street. Harriman jumps, expecting to see another generic Enterprise corridor. The street is loud, cars driving past. Buses, too. People walking, taking their usual daily routines. Tourists climb onto monuments, pedestrians walk into shops and stores, birds fly across the sky.

Sitting on a bench, mere steps away from Harriman, is Carl. Harriman looks around, disoriented. Carl gives a subtle whistle, catching Harriman’s attention. Carl stands, as Harriman approaches.

“So, what’s it like to not be dead?” Carl says, smiling.

Harriman nods, looking curiously at Carl “We’re sending a landing party to Earth. We’re contributing…”

“Hmm, I know. Looks like you’ve been making better decisions now that death isn’t looming over you, heh?”

“What is this? What am I doing?”

“I told you, John. Your fate isn’t to be a debris field. You’re living proof that I’m right, yet you still doubt?”

“How do I know I’m not dreaming you? Hallucinating?”

Carl laughs, this time more joyfully than before. “Maybe you are. Maybe I am.” Carl shrugs.

“You’re not making sense…”

“You want more answers? You’ll find them on the surface.”

“It’s just a recon mission…”

Carl’s smile disappears. “You’ll do more than gather intelligence on that planet, John. Your journey is coming to an end soon. Your… time almost up. Don’t waste it gathering intelligence. Remember who you are. Remember what you are… remember….”

“Remember… remember…” a while flash encompasses Harriman. As he opens his eyes, he is back in the turbo-lift. The doors open, and the Enterprise corridor appears.

Part 6

“Captain’s personal log, Stardate 34245.2. I have been on so many missions. So many I can’t even count them all. Away missions. Deep space missions. Missions to the future. Missions of life and death. Yet, despite this experience, I have a strange feeling about this one. We are heading into a potential war zone. We are going to the planet I call home… yet I still feel this disconnect. I know, this isn’t my Earth. I know a lot has changed in the past 800 years, but she is still home…”

Harriman stands at the edge of the shuttle craft. Mr. Hawk carries on two silver crates, sealed with Starfleet logos. Cal Than is elsewhere in the shuttle bay, putting on boots. Commander Jacobs approaches.

“The USS Crazy Horse is on route to tow us to space dock for refit, Captain.” Jacobs says, carrying a pad.

“Good.” Harriman looks over to Mr. Hawk as he continues loading the shuttle. “We’ll be ready to launch in a few minutes.”

“Yeah…”

Jacobs is almost immediately interrupted, Mr. Hawk shouts over to the Captain. “We are ready, Sir.”

“I gotta go.” Harriman says, tapping the shoulder of Commander Jacobs. He smiles. “You have command, Number One.”

Jacobs smiles, shaking Harriman’s hand. “She’ll be here when you get back.”

Harriman gives an awkward smile, looking into Jacobs’ eyes. He nods, turning around and boarding the shuttle. Jacobs takes several steps back as the shuttle’s engines launch. The ship begins to fly, and before Jacobs could salute goodbye, the shuttle had flown out of the shuttle bay. Jacobs lowers his head and returns to work.

Part 7

The quietness of the moon and the darkness of the sky sit in complete conjunction with one another. The silence, the deadness, of space is unmatched. An eternity will pass. Then another. And another, before the balance is disturbed. An eternity before the light is changed and the world moves. An eternity passes…

The shuttlecraft, carrying Captain Harriman, Commander Cal Than and Mr. Hawk jolts past the Moon. Their light a small spec of light compared to the reflective behemoth of the Moon. Within the cockpit, Harriman sitting in front, beside Mr. Hawk, who is piloting the vessel. Cal, standing over them.

“… and to your right, the Earth’s Lunar companion, the Moon…” Than says, with a joyful bounce in his tone.

Harriman joins in. “… home to eight million people, Lake Armstrong is galaxy-renound for their Noodle Bars. I wonder whether they still have them?”

Than’s playful nature calms, he looks over to Harriman. “… Captain, the Moon was abandoned… Lake Armstrong, the city – it’s all gone.”

Harriman almost ignores this, continuing his work on the console before him. He whispers. “Of course it is.”

The shuttle continues forward, towards the Earth. As the vessel enters the atmosphere, an orange glow encompasses the hull.

“Ready with those deflectors, Mr. Hawk?” Harriman says, looking dead forward.

“Yes, Captain.”

“That’ll be the window we need to get through their sensors…” Than says, working on a side console.

“Let’s hope this works.” Harriman continues to work. “Now, Mr. Hawk.”

Hawk frantically works on his console, pulling several levers on the control section. “Deflectors active, Captain.”

The shuttle passes through the clouds, out the bottom. They are over the ocean. The night sky is dark, with the moonlight bouncing off the hull.

“What’s our position?” Than says, looking out of the front windows of the shuttle.

Mr. Hawk turns his head, looking into a separate monitor. “Northern hemisphere. By my estimates, we’re over northern Europe.”

“Good. We have only a few minutes before their sensors will get around our deflectors. Set us down. Nowhere dense, we don’t want anyone seeing us when we land.” Harriman orders. He stands and approaches the back of the shuttle. He removes his standard red uniform, replacing it with a darker, more practical landing uniform. The new uniform comes with inbuilt compartments for different tools and pieces of equipment.

“Landing…” Mr. Hawk says, still piloting the vessel. He stands, as the shuttle sets down onto the ground. “We are approximately one mile away from the coast. Farmland, I believe.” Hawk too replaces his uniform for the one Harriman is wearing, Than is already dressed. “We’re about a half an hour walk from a more dense area.”

“Don’t you think people will recognise the Starfleet uniform?” Harriman says, looking towards Than.

Than says, looking down at the uniform. “Eh, it’s dark out. The uniform is quite dark. We’ll just have to be discrete. I suggest we try to find some sort of telecommunications centre. We’ll be able to monitor public broadcasting to get a sense of what’s going on.”

“Agreed. Let’s head out. Stick together. Let’s go to a first name basis, we don’t want anybody picking up on the ranks…” Harriman says, addressing the pair.

Than turns, looking towards Hawk. “I’m sorry… but… what is your name?”

Harriman smiles, as Hawk responds. “Grayson.”

“Ah! I’m sorry, you’re always ‘Mr. Hawk’.” Than gives an awkward chuckle. Hawk responds with a playful smile.

“Ready?” Harriman says, one last time. The pair reply with a simple nod as they exit the shuttle craft.

The rumblings of the sky are faint, but present. The team wade through the dry farmland. Bushes and orchards, many desert of leaves. The briskness is ever present. They walk further and further until they reach buildings. Finally, civilization. Much of the lights are out. The darkness continues to shroud the streets of the town. The street lamps are the only thing illuminating the fact that the streets themselves lie empty. Stall fronts closed, building doors locked. The town – on the surface – is void of all things life. Rubbish lies on the floor, and a motorcycle unattended. They approach a church, with its doors barricaded.

Harriman doesn’t say anything, instead gesturing his head towards the door. The pair move in, going to open the grand spruce doors of the church. The door opens with relative ease and the three wonderers enter. The church is almost entirely empty, with the exception of a clergymen. The man is on his knees, before an alter. On it, three candles lit. He is praying.

“Excuse me, sir.” Harriman says, his voice louder to communicate across the room. The clergyman ignoring their entrance into the church. “Sir?”

The man stops and stands. As he approaches the three, he bows. His religious credentials are clear through his Pontifical dress, surprising Harriman and Hawk.

“You are a... religious man?” Mr. Hawk inquires, staring at the clergyman.

“I am. Welcome to Saint Kimberly’s Church.”

“Where are we? Where is everybody?” Harriman asks.

“You’re not from around these parts, I see.” His hand reaches up, stroking Harriman’s pin badge. “These uniforms… where was it you said you were from?”

“We’re from a village to the south. We came for supplies.” Than says, the clergyman’s hand falls from Harriman’s chest.

“I see. Well, you are late. The town is already locked down. You won’t find the stores open. We expect the fighting to begin any night now.”

“I’m sorry, our navigation device is broken… what town is this?”

“Oakville, Bonitana. You’re a ways out of the city. Probably a good place to be when all those riots start.” The clergyman’s face seems unchanging, his eyes almost never blinking.

“I see… would it be possible to stay here for a while… while we try and repair our navigation device.” Harriman gives a gentle smile, the clergyman still doesn’t move.

“Of course. Revolution or no revolution, this church is a home to wonderers. Whether they be of distant pasts, or dangerous futures. I have food in the back… if ya eat that sorta stuff...”

Part 8 A small tweet echoes through the church. Sitting on the edge of a mighty stained-glass window, a brown chested robin sings his song. He revels in the moonlight, admiring the view of the small Bonitanian town. On the other side of the window, Mr. Hawk carries a silver plate through the chapel room, into a backroom where a small light is expelled from.

“Will these be satisfactory?” Mr. Hawk inquires as he enters the backroom, before him is Harriman, sitting on a small box with his uniform chest zipper loosened, Cal Than who is standing and the clergyman, who sits in the only chair in the room.

The clergyman removes a loaf of bread from a small container of food. The container also holds some cheeses and crackers. “It’s not a lot. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“I thought the church was always open to any wanderers?” Than inquires.

“You’re sitting here, aren’t you?” The clergyman smiles. “Much of our supplies were offered to the village and town people. Not everyone can afford to empty the shelves of the supermarket.” The clergyman begins to hand out food, first to Than, then to Harriman.

Harriman takes a bite. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

The clergyman smiles, continuing to ration food. “I am far more interested in your names… your stories. The stories of travellers helps weave the tapestry of this church, of this community.”

Harriman nods, before Than begins to speak. “We come from a village to the south, too small to gather enough supplies to hold out against the… revolution.”

“These uniforms are hand-downs from before the fall of the Federation…” Harriman interjects.

The clergyman continues his small smile. He doesn’t look at any of the men. “It is okay, you don’t have to share the truth with me. But be warned, this country is a dangerous place right now. Wherever you’re from… really, your life is at risk by being here.”

Harriman swallows his portion of bread. “Well, we won’t stay for long. We don’t want to bring unwanted attention to the church.”

The clergyman stands. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I must continue with my prayers.” He exits the backroom, closing the door.

Harriman stands. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“There is nothing in this church to indicate directions towards a telecommunications centre.” Mr. Hawk replies.

“Forget the centre. We’re too late. This war is starting and it is starting soon. They’ve evacuated the damned towns for gods sakes.” Harriman sighs. “We’ve got to find a way to end this war.”

“Capta…. John, there is an argument to be made that General Order One applies in this situation.” Than says, unmoving from his position, leaning against one of the walls.

“Forget the Prime Directive, gathering intelligence will only reassure us that we should have done something. We have to find a way to stop this war.”

“It is highly probable that the events leading up to the war have already taken place and that it is only a matter of time before conflict begins. It may be impossible for us to prevent that which has already occurred.” Hawk says, his hands gesturing as he speaks.

“I know this is going to sound crazy. It sounds crazy to me, but I have this deep feeling that fate has put us in this town… this… church for a reason. I didn’t know what but, what if it was to prevent this war. To save countless lives. To preserve the peace and to open a dialogue for Federation membership. It’s either that or we leave, and the Federation turns its back on Earth.”

Than stands straight, looking towards Harriman. “I can’t say you’re wrong but…” he shakes his head. “if we interfere, what’s to say we don’t make it worse?”

“I don’t know.” The frustration in his voice stands clear, distinct from the inspirational tone that occupied his voice previously. “We have to try.”

Mr. Hawk remains silent, as Than nods, slowly. “You’re in command, Captain.”

Harriman looks towards Hawk, his eyes gesturing for a response. “I believe the course of action is clear.”

Harriman smiles, looking down at his feet. “We’ve got to get to a place where we can communicate with the outside world. Grayson, did you notice any cell towers or… satellites around?”

“Yes, sir. We passed an education centre on our way into the town. It is highly likely that such a building will possess at least some communications equipment. It should also be deserted at this time of night, as to avoid gathering unwanted attention.” Mr. Hawk replies.

“Fantastic. We’ll…” A loud explosion is heard from a distance, the chirping of the bird stops as it flies away.

The clergyman opens the door, entering the backroom. He walks with a surprising calm, contrasting with the worried look of the men. “It appears you won’t be turning anytime soon. The revolution has begun. I’ve barricaded the door. We will be safe.”

“… we’re too late…” Than says, quietly.

Harriman approaches the clergyman. “We can’t stay in here while there are people out there dying.”

“Anybody still outside is either a combatant or a fool. Either way, their fates are sealed.”

“I don’t accept that. We’re going to head for the school, gather some communication. Get a read of the situation on the ground, evacuate if necessary. Get a ceasefire if possible.”

“A ceasefire?!” The clergyman says with cynicism in his voice. “The Republic will not allow a Bonitanian insurgency and the Bonitanians will not rest until independence is secured. This war cannot be stopped.”

“I don’t believe in a no win scenario.”

“Very well. I ask you respect the boundaries of this church. Once you leave, you must not return.”

Harriman nods. “We understand. Thank you, for your hospitality.” Further explosions are heard, bullets being fired. The group move towards the door of the church. The clergyman opens the door. Beyond it, the town glows in a faint yellow. Fires ravage buildings, explosions have toppled cars. The revolution could easily be mistaken for riots, with some taking the opportunity to loot stores and local establishments.

“Good luck, and may god have mercy on your souls.” The clergyman bows, before closing the church doors behind them.

Part 9

The explosions outside continue, some loud, some small. The hallway of the Bonitanian school lies cold, dark and quiet – except for the echoes of the gun fire in the distance. However, over time, the sounds become louder and louder. The revolution is approaching. Inside one of the classrooms – invisible from the hallway window, hiding beneath the window sill – sits fifteen children. All different ages, the children are cramped together. On either end of the group sits two teachers, looking as scared as the children in their care. The lights are out, the darkness of the night sky has crept into the classroom. The only thing illuminating the petrified gathering of children and teachers is the pale moonlight.

One of the children, a small boy in cargo shorts and a red stripped jumper, stands. Immediately, the teachers go into red alert. He is visible, they think. He is in danger.

“Paul” One of the teachers whispers, reaching out her hand. The boy doesn’t respond, he starts tugging on his shorts. Besides this compulsive minor movement, he is completely still. After a few seconds, the teacher stands, grabbing the boy and pulling him back down to their point of believed safety. “We’ll be safe if we stay down…”

A cry echoes through the classroom as the children huddle closer together in fear. Something is trying to get in. The teachers too, while their brave face remains as admirable attempt to comfort the children, whimper in dread of whatever is trying to break down a nearby door.

The door to the classroom opens from the outside, standing at the doorway is Captain Harriman, Mr. Hawk and Cal Than. Mr. Hawk is holding a scanning device, scanning the children.

“Fascinating.” The group huddled on the floor sit in awe. “I am detecting no life signs, Captain.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Harriman says, extending his arm out to the teacher nearest to the door, helping her to her feet.

“… Who are you?” The teacher says, frightened. “Are you a revolutionary?”

Harriman shakes his head. “No, I’m Captain John Harriman. We’re… travellers. We were hoping to use your computers, we didn’t expect anybody to be here. I’m sorry for any distress.”

The teacher shakes his hand. “Better you than the Republik.”

“Why are these kids here?” Cal than interjects. “We thought most of the town had barricaded themselves at home.”

“This is a boarding school, these kids had nowhere to go.”

“Are there others?” Harriman asks.

“No, only these fifteen. We’ll be safe here, the revolutionaries won’t attack a school.”

“It’s not the revolutionaries I’m worried about.” Harriman looks towards Than.

Than steps forward, further into the room. “Looters have seemingly taken the opportunity. A school like this, it’s an ideal target for them.”

“Which means you’re not safe here. Is there a school bus or transportation vehicle here?” Harriman says, looking back towards the teacher.

“Uh… yes…” The teacher looks over towards the other teacher.

“Okay. Do you have a computer nearby that we can access?”

The teacher points towards the small side office. Harriman, looking over, exclaims. “Okay. Mr. Hawk, you get onto the computer. Find out anything you can. I want to communicate with whatever authority is here. Find out a safe location we can take these kids to. Cal, you and I will help get these kids safely on the bus. It won’t be long before the riots reach us here.” Hawk and Cal both nod. “Let’s get moving.”

Meanwhile, a short distance away, the riots continue. Looters continue to ravage shop fronts and stores, homes and businesses alike. The revolution is underway. After a short while, the hoard reaches the school. They begin to breakdown the front gates of the institution as the approach the entrance of the school. On the other side of the building, Captain Harriman helps lift the last child onto the bus. The rioters have entered the building, their shouting echoes through the halls. Mr. Hawk, running, exits the building onto the area where the bus is docked.

“You got me something?” Harriman shouts, approaching Hawk.

Hawk slows down. “A city to the south… Rockfield. They are a peaceful people, according to the database. These children will be safe there.”

“And communications?”

“A communications device that will connect you with a government official of Bonitana. I am unsure how successful it will be given that I was forced to rush when the mob entered the building.”

“Good work. Let’s get out of here.” Harriman and Hawk board the bus, childing filling up the front few rows. Harriman approaches the front.  “We’re heading south, towards Rockfield, let’s go.”

The two teachers look at Harriman with a blank face

“You can’t drive?” Cal than says, with a frustrated tone. From the mirrors, a smaller mob (which has broken off from the larger one which is looting the school) approaches the bus. They are holding torches, shouting.

“Options.” Harriman says.

“I can try… I’ve never driven a combustion engine before.” Than says, sitting in the driver’s seat.

“It’s better than nothing.”

The mob reach the bus, shaking the back. Some of the children scream, filling the empty air of the yellow transportation vehicle. Others, hide behind their seats. The door at the back of the bus is opened, as a rioter enters the bus. His scream terrorizes, he runs towards the people, holding a blade.

“Go!” Harriman screams towards Than. While he shouts, he stands, running to block the man from reaching the children. Their screams continue, whimpering with the ferocity of a wild animal. As the bus begins moving, leaving much of the mob behind, Harriman dives, tackling the man. Mr. Hawk pulls his hand phaser, unable to get a clean shot. They struggle, several rows behind the farthest back child. They reach the floor, before…

Harriman’s voice collapses, his breath gone. The man gives a small smile, looking into Harriman’s fleeting eyes. He pushes Harriman’s off him, to the side. On the floor, a large pool of blood already floods the cracks and crevices of the bus’ floor. The man stands.

Hawk fires the phaser, the man drops to the floor. A burned beam mark, directly between the man’s eyes. The bus continues to drive, away from the town, heading south.

As the sun begins to rise, Mr. Hawk rushes towards the back of the bus. He picks Harriman, holding him in his arms. Blood creeps it way onto Mr. Hawk’s hands, his shirt, his trouser, his face..

“… Captain…” Hawk says, a small tear running down his face. His voice, breaking as the word creeps out of his mouth. Harriman’s dead eyes remain open, with no reaction. His mouth, dripping blood, rests open.

Hawk places his hand onto the back of Harriman’s head, pushing it into his chest. As Cal continues to drive, refusing to look back, Mr. Hawk lets out a ferocious scream. It echoes, as the pale moonlight is exchanged for the orange of the early morning sun.

Part 10

Silence. Complete deadness. Space.

Harriman’s voice descends… “Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Her continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before…”

A flash of white is all consuming, the stars merge as a surreal whiteness encompasses everything.

Harriman opens his eyes, a snowy vista remains. Blankets of untouched, pure snow. Like a sea of clouds, sprinkled with a touch of suffocating spruce and beautiful winter trees.

Harriman breathes, panic begins to descend onto him. Behind him, a small and subtle voice is heard. “So, you came through after all…”

Harriman dashes himself one-hundred and eighty degrees, turning around to face the faceless voice. There, sitting on a wooden chair, Carl. He is wearing the same clothes upon his first encounter; the same bowler hat, tweed coat covered in the residue of snow, puffing a cigar. Behind him, a large metal door, unconnected to any walls. The door stands alone, with nothing but Carl in front of it.

Harriman walks over to carl, disturbing the snow. “What the hell did you do to me? What day is this?”

Carl smiles. “Oh! Good question, hmm. Today is the day you died.”

Harriman looks over to Carl, an anger falls onto him. “Who are you?” The politeness in his voice suddenly stripped away.”

Still smiling. “I’m Carl. We’re old friends, remember?”

Harriman approaches Carl, grabbing him by his coat. “What are you?!” he says, shouting.

Carl’s smile gone, he looks plainly into Harriman’s eyes.

Harriman lets go, taking two or three steps back. “You sent me down to that planet… to kill me?!” Harriman seems out of breath. “Was any of it real?”

Carl takes a puff of his cigar.

“Tell me!”

“The answer to that is the newspaper, Captain.”

Harriman looks down to his hands, finding a newspaper. In one of the columns, which would usually occupy a picture, displays a black and white picture. Mr. Hawk and Cal Than still on the bus, driving. They reach the Rockfield border. Harriman looks up from the newspaper.

Carl nods.

“I was here… before all of this… when you saved the Enterprise…”

“Yeah.”

“If I never left this place, but I was also down on Earth… I…”

Carl takes the newspaper, folding it and placing it under his arm. “We have so many selves. All real. It all happened, John. There’s a version of you that’s breathing your last breath on a school bus in Bonitana – but that ending doesn’t fit so well, does it?”

“You said I had a choice.”

“… and you do, you made them, and you’re back here with me.”

“Who are you? Really?” Harriman ask again, a tear falling down his face.

“Really?”

Suddenly, the door that was behind of Carl’s chair explodes. A million pieces of wood, timber, metal, all explode away from Carl and Harriman. The explosion doesn’t affect either of them, like they’re not even there. The million pieces fly out and within a second, return to Carl. Behind him, a large structure is constructed from the pieces, assembled in front of Harriman’s eyes. A portal… a gateway.

“What is a Guardian of Forever? Why have I never heard of you?”

“I’m in hiding. I’m… I’m a… space time entity, you might say. A portal to the past, a cruise to the future. Back in the day, it used to be ‘Sure, come on through. Just don’t screw up history or you’ll have to fix it.’, and then the Temporal Wars happened and… everyone was killing everyone else… trying to use me to do it.” Carl exhales sharply. “It wasn’t pretty. But, here I am! Officially elsewhere! Nowhere near my original coordinates. Serving time as protector of Earth’s destiny.”

Harriman gives a small smile, his anger gone. Suddenly a sharp pain consumes Harriman, right in the area of his stab wound. “I’m dying… why?”

“It still happened. What’s real is still real, even if you read it in a newspaper. There is still a link between the you with me and the you on that bus. See, I didn’t save the Enterprise to save you. I didn’t send you to that planet to save your life, I sent you to the Earth to be weighed.”

“Weighed?”

“Tested to see what kind of decisions you’d make in a different environment. In an environment where not everything is as cosy and as utopian as your used to. To see if this time, here, had changed you at all.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He still coddles his wound. No blood appears, just the pain.

Carl’s smile returns. “What, give you the answers before the test? No, you’re a tricky case, John. You don’t belong here, now, but to send you somewhere else might cause just as many problems. So, you were sent to the planet, to figure out your course.”

“Oh, let me guess. I was found to be lacking.”

“Now, why would you say that?”

“I abandoned my crew in the 31st century.”

“But in fairness, your hands were ties.”

“The end was the same… war…”

An optimistic tone. “But you tired…”

“I failed… my crew… the Federation…”

Carl nods, slowly. “Yeah…” Carl turns around, looking into the portal. He turns again, facing Harriman. “But, you know, you tried for peace. You saved a bus full of children. You showed light to a clergyman blinded by the shadows of his time. And, you didn’t have to do that. He’ll show others. A lot of them.”

“So, you will help me?” Harriman says, looking at the ground.

Carl raises his hand, making a swiping motion. The portal behind him changes, from blue to red. “It’s ready, when you are.”

“You’re going to send me back to Earth, to die again?”

“Oh, come on. Nobody said anything about sending you back there. Your journey isn’t over yet, John. I’m going to send you back to a time when a 23rd century Starfleet Captain might not stand out so much like a sore thumb. A time when you can live, in the peace you gave your life for. A time where the link is broken. So you don’t fall apart, atomically speaking.” Carl gives a joyful giggle.

Harriman looks over to the portal, a sceptical look on his face.

Carl smiles again, patting Harriman on his shoulder. “Consider yourself lucky. You’re getting a second shot, that’s pretty unique. But it won’t be easy. The newspaper says the forecast will be bumpy and painful. Lots of rainstorms, heartaches. But, that’s life, or so I’m told.”

“What about my crew? Hawk… can he come with me?”

“I’m afraid not. This Grayson Hawk is right where he needs to be. Your crew will be fine, they’ll flourish even! Archibald Jacobs will become Captain of the Enterprise, which – as we speak – is being outfitted with technologies that will make her very useful in the fight ahead. Mr. Hawk and Mr. Than, they’ll be just fine. They’re in a bit of a pickle now, but their story doesn’t end in a little war.”

“Little war?” Harriman says, his pain gone from his body.

Carl laughs, his belching tone shines through. “This war is only the appetiser. A lot of people are yet to realise it. Anyway… that’s enough about that.” Carl approaches Harriman, grabbing his two hands. “When you’re ready, just… walk on through.”

Carl lets go, taking several steps back. He smiles, as he disappears into the snow. Harriman stands alone, the portal to his right. He rubs his face. As Harriman approaches the portal, he begins to laugh. Louder and louder, shaking his head.

He smiles, whispering to himself. “Captain’s log, supplemental. This is Captain John Harriman, signing off, one last time.”

He reaches for his Starfleet badge, removing it from his chest. He places it on the ground, before walking through the portal. As he does, he disappears as the portal fades into nothing.

Almost immediately it does, Carl walks back. His chair back where it was before the portal was formed. He sits, smiling. He picks up the newspaper. In the headline, “Captain Harriman lives a happy life.”. Carl folds the paper, puffing from his cigar.

Episodes Summaries

"Message in a Bottle"

The crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise-B continue through the 31st century, five months after their interactions with the major factions (New Corporate Republic and Oscdean State) of the Doggerland. As their hope dwindles, the Enterprise encounters a probe of Starfleet origins. The investigation that ensues reveals the true nature of the Federation in the 31st century and a meeting to come.

"People of Arcadia"

A mysterious man crash lands on a seemingly remote planet. The man, undercover Starfleet commander Cal Than. The planet, a former Federation planet crippled in "the burn". Than must infiltrate the isolationist planet to find one of the most important men in the galaxy, former Federation President Anneik Okeg. Okeg was trapped on Arcadia during "the burn" and, on the orders of the new Coalition of Federation Planets, Than must retrieve him for an important mission that could pose a threat to the security of the galaxy.

Former Federation President Grand Tarkin is reintroduced.

"In Mundo Videmus"

The USS Zheng He, having retrieved Commander Cal Than from Arcadia, travels to Terra to make contact with the U.S.S. Enterprise-B. As they make contact, the reality of the Enterprise's existence in the 31st century is revealed. The Enterprise must be returned to the 23rd century, with near certain death for the crew of the Enterprise. The Zheng He's mission of re-unification of Terra into the Coalition of Federation Planets is explored.

"Broken Link"

With the Enterprise's failed attempt to return to the 23rd century, the crew of the Enterprise must adapt to the reality of continuing in the 31st century. The Zheng He is diverted to defend the Coalition, leaving the Enterprise to stop an impending war on Doggerland. Captain Harriman, Mr. Hawk take an away team to the Earth - ending up in Bonitana - where they must attempt to make contact with the powers of the 31st century to prevent a war that might threaten re-unification forever.

Captain Harriman makes contact with a new force of destiny, seemingly guiding his journey.