Hey guys, i didn't write this by the way, it was my friend. But i decided to post this on here in honour of him, he's just really unwell at the moment, and i miss him a little. Hope you like it!!
plus my character that i made o bebo for role play is in this story, 'Elizabeth Soden' :D.
Star Trek: Cerberus
The Fen Domar War
Prologue:
The United Federation of Planets, he had witnessed its signing, its small beginnings, its baby steps into the galaxy. Still, it seemed to him like space had gotten a whole lot smaller. To him, there was very little left that was unknown, so little room to go out and explore.
The year 2404, Vice Admiral Charles Anthony Tucker III stared down at the desk in his ready room. Looking at the forty-nine year old reflection that did nothing but stare back at him, he felt even more detached than most times.
His life was far from simple, even by Starfleet standards. Not only had he experienced what he had on the NX-01 Enterprise – his most memorable experiences included getting pregnant and faking his own death in 2155, in order to try and save Earth from the Romulans – but was the first victim of a non-fatal transporter malfunction. In 2161, the day after the historic signing to be exact, Charles Anthony Tucker was duplicated. However nobody knew.
One of the two Tuckers – him – was simultaneously transported to the Wells class USS Mesozoic NCV-6059421, a twenty-ninth century Federation timeship. He would've been lying to himself if he'd thought that the all-alien senior staff of the Mesozoic didn't intimidate him, slightly. Captain Vang Orkon Yesric Clawnak, a fiery male Pahkwa-thanh who was slightly less fierce than he looked, had welcomed Tucker with open claws, he preferred to work with the first officer, a calm and reasonable man, a Voth, called Commander Ritang.
There were instances aboard the Mesozoic where he felt a little outdated, his inability to say the name of the ship's second officer, tactical officer and chief of security, Lieutenant Commander 'Eight Four Seven Two'. He could communicate with all of the aliens, but he was disappointed he couldn't say the Lieutenant Commander's name. However he'd insisted only other members of Species 8472 had the correct telepathy to say the names.
One thing that surprised Tucker about the future ship was how many reptiles served on it.
Have to learn to be more open minded. He'd constantly say to himself. Although the other reptilian member of the senior staff, he got along famously with. The chief medical officer, the Gorn Commander Skarl. He also found several common interests – which to his delight included horror movies – with the science officer, the Reman Lieutenant Commander Vralikat.
Tucker figured, that the hospitality shown to him by the Mesozoic crew was not only to protect the timeline, but to help him move on, albeit only slightly. Helping him do this was – to Tucker's uneasiness – Lieutenant Commander Arloores Wa'aquunia, the ship's counsellor and female Xindi aquatic. Despite his objections Tucker found her methods of helping him overcome his sister's death and his dislike towards Xindi easier to overcome, or at least set aside.
A female Cardassian-Bajoran hybrid, the chief engineer Lieutenant Kratel Yaz, and the ship's helmsman, a female Aenar, Lieutenant Shrella took a liking to Tucker, which he tried his best to ignore. One member Tucker found it difficult to get his head around was the operations officer, Lieutenant Junior Grade Rhillakirtaanaa, a Tholian, both male and female. After spending so long struggling to work out the three gendered Vissians and the four genders of the Andorians and the Aenar, and the five genders of Species 8472, he pushed all thoughts of Tholian practices to the back of his mind.
There were two crewmen who Tucker felt uneasy around, even more so than the Xindi counsellor, the female Klingon transporter chief, Chief Entharal, but especially the Romulan communications officer, Ensign Nartok. However hard he tried, Trucker could not look the man in the eye.
They sent him to the year 2395, with the simple order to live his life, they did also make an uncomfortable point about his 'importance', Tucker tried to forget he'd heard that. Changing into the lavender, black and mustard colour uniforms felt unusual to him, but they quickly grew on him.
One of Commander Tucker's first missions in 2395 involved battling the Borg onboard the Archer class USS Enterprise NCC-1701-F.
You've got a class of ship named after you, and they made one an Enterprise; you'd be so proud Captain.
The mission's success lead to the Commander's placement in Starfleet Engineering, however, his taste for action swiftly took over. In 2397, he exchanged the mustard undershirt for a more tasteful red one, with four illustrious gold pips on his collar. Captain Charles Anthony Tucker became commanding officer of another Archer class ship, the USS Elizabeth NCC-80975. He chose it personally, in memory of his late sister and late baby girl.
He'd hoped things would become less complicated, which turned out to be wild hopes on his part.
He was proud of his chief medical officer, Commander Pheluna Phlox, great granddaughter of the NX-01's Doctor Phlox and spitting image of one of his wives Feezal, which had less-than-subtly flirted with him, so long ago.
Although Tucker's personal life was set for a dramatic turn as seven years later, earlier in 2404, as his CMO and XO became captains, Tucker became a Vice Admiral and discovered his family.
His XO, who had served under him for seven years, who he'd personally took under his wing after a near-court martial turned out to be his son.
Neil Robert "Trip" Carmichael III, was a second binary clone created by Terra Prime in 2155, but all of his Vulcan cells were pushed into recession, leaving him looking completely human, and he was kept in suspended animation until 2364. Unlike Elizabeth Tucker, he could survive, despite needing regular cellular therapy.
His daughter Elizabeth Julie-Anne Soden, a clearly half-Vulcan woman, and a semi-independent time traveller – thanks to her long and complicated relationship with an omnipotent being named Q – found him, travelling from thirty years in the past – the year 2374 – and from the USS Voyager, in the Delta Quadrant.
Tucker wasn't sure what bothered him more, the fact that this had happened, or the fact that he knew all along.
In 2159, the Prometheus class USS Cerberus NCC-81036 had time travelled to stop Tucker from going on a suicide mission during the Romulan War. Whilst cloaked, they beamed him aboard, where Vice Admiral Tucker, Captain Carmichael and Lieutenant Commander Soden explained what to him, sounded like an impossible future.
Feeling to honest for his own good, Vice Admiral Tucker had to explain this to his children.
It was more complicated explaining it to Liz Soden. She was born naturally, after Tucker and T'Pol had travelled to the year 2331, they could not take their baby back and so gave her up to Jennifer and Norman Soden, two Starfleet officers, Who unknown to Tucker and T'Pol had named her Elizabeth, like his late sister and their late baby girl.
The fact that his children had wound up with the names Trip and Liz, always brought tears to Tucker's eyes.
The refitted Prometheus class ship, the USS Cerberus NCC-81036 was ahead of her time. La May's advances to the warp engines allowed it to excel past the warp thirteen barrier. With all five nacelles deployed, the Cerberus could reach warp factor fifteen.
The Starship Cerberus was experimental in other ways. It was the prototype – although Tucker felt the term 'guinea pig' was more apt – of the Extreme Tactical Program. An upgrade of Starfleet's 'Hazard Team' this was testing how a minimal crew – just the senior staff – could operate a ship. Twelve people were assigned to it, and at least one hundred and fifty holograms, to act as medical, repair and security teams.
The ship had a less than stellar start in life, the first transporter chief Frank Boyle was stripped of rank, dishonourably discharged and imprisoned. The second transporter chief J'Mole an avian life form, who resembled a five and a half foot tall budgerigar transferred to the Starship Elizabeth, under Tucker's command, a social creature, he felt too uncomfortable.
However the crew quickly adjusted to their new lives. Captain Neil R. "Trip" Carmichael, the commanding officer, Commander David A. Black, the executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Luke W. D. Clay, the second officer, tactical officer and chief of security, Commander Nigel Macauley, the chief medical officer, Lieutenant Commander Verity J. Smith, the science officer, Lieutenant Commander Chloe Deacon, ship's counsellor, Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth "Liz" Julie-Anne Soden, astrometrics officer and part-time engineer, Lieutenant Laura Doyle, chief engineer, Lieutenant Chris Manders, the helmsman, Lieutenant Junior Grade Tom "Bidderz" Bhaduri, Chief Chris J. Cotterill, transporter chief and Ensign Adam Pipes, communications officer.
All very skilled officers, hand-picked for the task of testing the ETP. There was some prejudice involved with Lt Commander Clay, as he was a changeling and some people never fully recovered from the effects of the Dominion War.
They were no strangers to the weirdest possible twists and turns of fate. Time travelling to the twenty-second century, their involvement in the Temporal Cold War, which involved fighting alongside the Celestial class USS Enterprise NCC-1701-J and the USS Cerberus NX-81036-A in the battle of Procyon V, against the Sphere Builders.
They even fought their counterparts from the Mirror Universe, who were led by Intendent Charles Anthony Tucker. The crew were almost the exact opposite, which proved disturbing to Vice Admiral Tucker and the Cerberus crew. The first officer of the ISS Cerberus was Commandant Carmichael. An unusual feature of the Terran Empire vessel was the Marine detachment, Major Black, the second officer, chief of security and tactical officer, Sergeant Bhaduri, the Intendent's personal bodyguard. Also attached to the ship were Corporals Clay and Deacon. Agent Soden, an expert saboteur was brought aboard at the request of Intendent Tucker. The remaining Starfleet personnel on the ISS Cerberus were Doctor Macauley, science officer Lieutenant Commander Smith, helmsman Lieutenant Manders, chief engineer Lieutenant Doyle, transporter chief Petty Officer Cotterill and communications officer – or spy – Ensign Pipes. Tucker always wondered how the mirror version of himself ended up where he was in the Mirror Universe's timeline.
The Cerberus's first mission was to the Gamma Quadrant to retrieve the long lost NX-02 Columbia, and bring her home. The thought that his love for T'Pol had actually saved his life rekindled the fact that he loved her still.
Tucker stood and walked up to the window of his ready room and looked out as the USS Cerberus flew close by. None of the collective experience of even Starfleet's finest officers could prepare them for what was transpiring.
A Beta Quadrant species, the highly aggressive, and highly religious reptilians, the Fen Domar, who had been in several confrontations with Starfleet over the past three years, had signed an official declaration of war.
Chapter One
September 1st 2404
Earth orbit
USS Cerberus NCC-81036
"What do you think Starfleet brought us all the way here for Captain?" Chief Cotterill asked walking to his station at the back of the bridge on the captain's left hand side.
"Dad said the Fen Domar have made an official act of war against the Federation." Captain Carmichael replied hauntingly.
"What?!" Commander Black turned suddenly, facing the Captain from his station close to the viewscreen.
"It's what I've heard. Apparently there's a meeting of the top Admirals, Dad included, we're here because we're Starfleet's most powerful ship." Carmichael explained.
"They did break all the rules making the Cerberus, phase cloak, eighteen of the most up-to-date phaser banks, two hundred and fifty photon, quantum and transphasic torpedoes, tri-cobalt devices and mines. Not to mention the La May warp fifteen engines, deployable armour, regenerative shielding, temporal shields…" Lt Commander Clay turned from his double console at the back of the bridge to see the other eleven crew members staring at him. A way they did often. Clay had a habit of getting carried away with the armaments of the Cerberus, a trait which Captain Carmichael relied on, especially in events when using the multi-vector assault mode.
"Thank you Commander." Carmichael said, in a partially dismissive tone.
"Message from Starfleet Captain." Ensign Pipes spoke up, which he rarely did unless on duty.
"On screen." Carmichael nodded.
The viewscreen at the front of the bridge became filled with the concerned face of Commander in Chief Kathryn Janeway.
"Good to see you Trip." Janeway smiled.
"You too Ma'am." Carmichael acknowledged, being polite, although there was an unmistakable tone of confusion in his voice.
"Loraine's off duty, she's with the kids."
"She lost her husband…" Carmichael reminded himself.
"The death of Jean-Luc Picard is a crippling blow to the Federation."
"I'm sure everyone feels the same way." Carmichael nodded.
"You know as well as anyone Starfleet's no stranger to conflicts even now, the Borg skirmishes for example."
The Borg. Not exactly headliners these days. The Co-operative and the liberated Unimatrix Zero drones as well as the Borg liberated from Lore, formed an alliance with Species 8472 Calling themselves the Unimatrix Zero Resistance Force with vessels resembling – according to the late President Jean-Luc Picard – the Borg vessel at Ohniaka III and smaller ships resembling – according to Vice Admiral Tucker – the assimilated Arctic One transport from 2153. Starfleet, being allies with the Resistance helped out in many skirmishes, it was a cause many officers felt passionate for, and like in all battles, too many died for.
"I take it your father's kept you up to date?" Janeway resumed.
"The Fen Domar. I didn't think it'd come to war." Carmichael admitted.
"None of us did."
"Why bring us back to Earth when it's a meeting of the admirals?" Carmichael had to ask.
"The Cerberus is the most powerful ship we've got; we need you as much as the admirals."
"I understand Ma'am." Carmichael nodded.
"Dock with McKinley station. Then beam down, I'll see you at Headquarters Captain." Janeway said, it was an order, but in a friendly tone.
"Understood Ma'am." Carmichael replied, as the view returned to the beautiful blue and green of Earth. The USS Elizabeth could also been flying to the higher location of drydock. It was clear due to the busy traffic of starships; Spacedock was out of the question. It seemed to Carmichael that all of Omega Fleet had arrived at Earth, and when he checked the console on his chair, he discovered to his surprise he wasn't wrong.
Starfleet ships in 2404 were impressive in the systems that were implemented, but there was a feeling that anyone over the age of thirty had, Starfleet was breaking its own rules in modern ships. The most profound example, the Cerberus, Starfleet broke all the rules in its construction.
Omega Fleet consisted of nearly fifty of Starfleet's best ships, under the command of the best captains. Many were radical new refits of old classes, that, or new classes based on old designs. Vice Admiral Tucker was made presiding admiral of the fleet and the USS Elizabeth, the flagship. That, coupled with the Cerberus's superiority over the other ships, the Excalibur class USS Enterprise NCC-1701-G seemed almost sidelined. This would change if the rumoured 'Golden Age' dawned.
He wasn't sure why, but as the Cerberus slowly crept toward McKinley, Captain Carmichael opened up the list of Omega Fleet's ships on his chair's right hand side console. He stared at the list and silently read each name robotically in his head, until, to his relief, came the voice of his helmsman.
"Approaching McKinley Station Sir." Lieutenant Manders reported.
"Thank you Lieutenant." Carmichael said, clearly having to think about it due to hoe far away his mind was.
The streamlined Prometheus class ship manoeuvred into position, as the docking clamps adjusted to latch onto its outer hull.
The docking clamps sealed, the Cerberus seemed like a trapped beast. At least in the eyes of Tom "Bidderz" Bhaduri, who had – even though initially not liked the idea of the ETP – had always been fond of the amount of advanced technology the Cerberus sported.
Bidderz watched himself dematerialise in the warm beam of a transporter and instantaneously re-materialise on Earth, in San Francisco with his crewmates.
"I've gotta attend this meeting." Carmichael said, a subtle tone of regret, or disappointment evident in his voice. "You've got two days and two nights here on Earth. Make the most of them." He nodded, dismissing his officers.
Bidderz and Luke didn't have any relatives on Earth. Luke being a changeling from the Gamma Quadrant, one of the One Hundred infants sent out, raised among humans and able to mimic their appearance perfectly. Bidderz grew up on Vega Colony but rarely visited his family. With Captain Carmichael and Vice Admiral Tucker in the meeting Liz Soden felt a little like she was on her own too.
However the rest of the Cerberus's crew took the opportunity to have a little time experiencing life in the slow lane with enthusiasm.
Inside Starfleet HQ, Captain Carmichael headed to the room specified to him. There, were two officer in the Federation Marine Corps, in their solid green versions of the Starfleet uniform, Captain Carmichael could also see their rank insignias. They were staff sergeants.
"Name, rank and serial number." Demanded the staff sergeant on the left, a clearly tired Trill.
"Neil R. Carmichael, Captain SC, serial number: nine zero six one five, mike hotel." Carmichael answered truthfully.
"They've been expecting you Sir."
Chapter Two
September 1st 2404
Hall of Warlords
Thangg-Domar
Beta Quadrant
The meeting was – as tradition dictated – for high ranking members of the Commander Caste only. That meant one thing in particular, no males. The red scaled females slowly arrived, several of them growling, a sign of anger, due top the current situation.
The vast hall was filled with one abstract shaped table, in which positioned around the perimeter were chair-like items, capable of comfortably supporting a reptilian bulk.
The walls were bland and featureless, apart from the massive black, gold and blue flag of the Fen Domar, which dominated the section of the circular wall, that was most visible to all present.
"I think you got your point across." Snarled V'Chrundaas, a high ranking Fen Domar admiral.
"I found killing their 'President' to be a wise decision. Their morale is crippled. We can strike! We can defeat them!" The younger, but highly influential Commodore mBarlneh exclaimed.
"You've provoked a counterattack. That is why we've assembled." V'Chrundaas made no effort to hide her anger.
"I know. Just because you are elder doesn't mean you can treat me like a kr'tikai."
"Silence both of you." Ordered the most senior admiral present. Fleet Executive Lhnahaerr. "The decision to kill the human leader was acceptable. However we must mobilise our fleets now. The male Defenders must be readied for combat against the humans."
"Agreed." Spoke the usually quiet, and although young, very wise, Rear Admiral Thy'less.
Each of the Fen Domar there, even those that remained silent, suddenly erupted in dinosaur-like roars.
Thangg-Domar. A hot, tropical world. The array of yellows and pinks that made the sky its normal self, shone into mBarlneh's eyes. She could've stare at the mesmerising blue giant all day, but she preferred to get her work done. More than that, she didn't want her inner eyelids stained lime green.
She passed a large academy, for new male Defenders. The sound of new weapons being fired over and over again was somewhat soothing to her. She sensed the vibrations ripple through the air with her forked tongue and carried on to her rendezvous point.
Commodore mBarlneh commanded the iHirr'tchak, a Chag-Dan class warship. Being a commodore, she was assigned two more vessels, which were to serve as wingmen for iHirr'tchak, two Ghaal'Yr class attack ships, support craft, little bigger than the starfighters. She felt at times as if she was being treated unfairly, but most of the time, was grateful she had her command and position as a commodore.
The warm embrace of the transporter beam was relaxing as mBarlneh was tugged to her ship, in orbit above Thangg-Domar. She stepped off the bridge's transporter pad and looked down at her planet. She felt inspired by its beauty, until, the position of the orbit made the view of Thangg-Domar obscured by the overwhelming glow of the turquoise star.
"What are the orders Mistress?" One of mBarlneh's subordinates – a green scaled male – asked.
"We are mobilising, Senior Defender. You are too train your troops, prepare them for combat against the humans." mBarlneh ordered, proud of her genders dominance.
Chapter Three
September 2nd 2404
Tucker residence
Earth
He yawned. He stretched. He fidgeted. He was tired, but uncomfortable.
"They call this progress?" Tucker moaned aloud about his bed. He stood and looked out the window. Being a Vice Admiral, Tucker had found himself with an apartment on Earth, with a luxurious view of Golden Gate Bridge. At least some things don't change. Tucker breathed a sigh of relief with his own thought. This luxury – especially in Tucker's eyes – complex was for high ranking, esteemed admirals that also served as starship COs.
He sat at his console in the main room and immediately the image of a baby appeared. The small, smiling beautiful baby girl, with tiny pointed ears brought Tucker to tears.
"Sorry I haven't spoken to you for so long Elizabeth." Tucker said to the image of his deceased baby. Elizabeth T'Les Tucker, was – like Captain Carmichael – created by Terra Prime in 2155, however they decided to leave Carmichael's foetus in suspended animation for two hundred and nine years and let Elizabeth be 'born' but due to the faults in their methods, she didn't survive. Tucker couldn't even begin to face his feelings that day. He'd nearly died, then he wished he did.
Like T'Pol, he was heartbroken. Even when his sister Lizzie Tucker died, he didn't weep as much as he did for the small child, who's precious, but short life, brought him more joy than he could remember. Even giving up his other daughter for adoption in 2331 hurt less.
"You've got a little brother and sister." He was crying beyond control now. "Your little brother's a Starfleet captain, he's called Trip, just like Daddy was, and your little sister is Liz, just like you. We never got to name them though, me and Mommy couldn't be there for them. Just like we couldn't be there for you." Tucker needed several minutes to allow himself to speak again. "Here's something, your little sister is older than her big brother." Tucker forced himself to laugh, but he couldn't compose himself. He gave up, and let himself weep.
"Skagaran tequila." Tucker ordered the replicator. The beverage he'd once used to drown his sorrows before, when Elizabeth died. He didn't care how it made his head spin, or how much pain he'd be in the next day, he couldn't go on through the night in the state he was in, with the thoughts he was thinking.
Then, Tucker felt a hand being placed on his shoulder, a gentle hand, a soft hand, a woman's hand. But not just any woman. Despite being in disbelief, Tucker placed his hand onto the one on his shoulder gripped it tight.
The woman knelt beside him and kissed him on the cheek. "Hello Trip." T'Pol said.
Tucker tilted his head and looked the love of his life in the eyes. "T'Pol. How are you…?"
"You didn't honestly think you were the only one with friends in…distant, places did you?" Tucker couldn't help but smile at her comment. "When the transporter malfunctioned, you changed, our bond stayed with you, not him. I'm here now Trip, and I'm never going to leave you."
Tucker had so many thoughts whirring through his head. Someone who calls me Trip nowadays, that's a novelty. What was so different about the other Charles Anthony Tucker III? Why is T'Pol using her emotions? Does she know about our children?
"I'm here to stay, I thought I lost you once in 2155, but now I'm here, forever. I love you."
Then one of Tucker's thoughts manifested itself. "We've been apart for centuries T'Pol, I've never stopped loving you…will you marry me?" Tucker had planned on proposing before the duplication in '61, the ring was passed to him, not to the other Tucker. He's kept it for nine years, but now took it out of its box, which sat in a draw under the console.
"I will marry you." She said simply.
"I can't describe in words how much you mean to me." Tucker was still crying, as was T'Pol. "What ever happened to emotions being illogical?" He laughed.
T'Pol placed the ring on the appropriate finger and looked deep into her love's eyes. "Because Trip, sometimes logic is flawed. I did so much to experience the emotions you do. My life has taught me, that I'm not going to be an emotionless Vulcan, I'm your Vulcan. You, Trip, were the sole reason I experimented with emotions in the first place." She explained.
There were no more words for them to share. The reunion had re-sparked their psychic bond. So close, yet even closer.
Having disrobed, they held each other close and with their lips locked, they instinctively performed the Vulcan neuropressure, to the points on each other's bodies they knew were most stimulating.
They sat on the edge of Tucker's bed. She gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. He did the same.
She lay back on the bed, she had never felt more like she belonged somewhere, than she did when she was with him. With Tucker, she felt at home.
Over her, Tucker pressed his hands down on the mattress, and lowered to kiss her on the lips. Affectionately, she rubbed her hands slowly across his shoulders, up his neck, to his face. Then placed her fingers on his temple, cheekbone and above and below his lips.
This was passion, love. A coupling through emotional choice, soft and gentle. Not the aggressive mating instinct brought about by the seven-yearly pon farr.
This was emotional love. Physical love. Mental love. This was a coupling of bodies and minds.
They couldn't get more intimate. They were one. Destined to be together, through some miracle restored. This was something that no other being – not even an omnipotent Q – could experience.
In those moments, nothing mattered. Not history, not the complications of family, not even the war. Everything was as it should be in those moments.
They were the same soul.
Chapter Four
September 3rd 2404
Starfleet HQ
San Francisco
Earth
Tucker found it impossible to keep the smile off his face. For the first time, he didn't feel detached, at all.
Earlier he and T'Pol had performed the neuropressure, the physiological benefits, that Tucker could feel were beside the point.
Snapping back into reality, Tucker looked up and saw a young Andorian, the solid red Starfleet uniform, made his blue skin appear brighter. Above the black band that ran across the chest area of the uniform, above the combadge, sat one gold pip.
"Ensign Hravishran th'Zoarhi." Tucker said. The young Andorian looked up, and smiled, his antennae twitched, possibly due to the cool breeze. Ensign Shran was named for his ancestor that Tucker had knew and fought with, multiple times.
"Admiral Tucker." Ensign Shran's antennae flexed as he smiled. There was so much of the Imperial Guard's Commander Shran in the young ensign, Tucker felt like he was the Commander from the twenty-second century at times.
"Have you got everything you need?" Tucker asked.
The Andorian frowned. "Just because I share my name with a paternal ancestor doesn't mean I've inherited all the bad things you've told me about him." Ensign Shran smiled, his antennae stretched up and down, he knew Tucker wasn't implying anything. "I'm looking forward to being your new helmsman."
Tucker forced a smile, but the way Ensign Shran reminded him of Commander Shran made him want to hit him at times. "And I look forward to having you on my crew."
"I've never even stepped foot on an Archer class ship before Admiral. Anything I should be aware of?" Shran was genuinely curious.
"Well…" Tucker started. A smile flashed across his face.
Ensign Shran laughed and Tucker allowed him to carry on his necessary duties.
Tucker had attended a meeting with Acting C-in-C Janeway all morning and decided to contact his known relatives about the wedding to T'Pol.
Only his closest friends knew about his older sister Kelly Tucker who'd moved to Ireland when Tucker was only a lieutenant. She had however; stayed long enough to punish him for the illegal test flight he participated in, and was also there to watch Elaine 'Gracie' Tucker slap Jonathan Archer for allowing her son's involvement in the matter.
Kelly married an artist, Liam Barclay and their first son, Jack was born in 2141. In the year 2404 Tucker's known relatives were the daughter of the late Commander Reginald Barclay – who had been on Federation One with President Picard, when the Fen Domar attacked and destroyed it – her husband and her children.
Claire had married the son of Will Riker and Deanna Troi, Kyle Riker. They had both married young, Kyle had just turned twenty-four and Claire was only twenty-two. They had been married for four years. Tucker often took great joy in visiting his distant relatives, because of how much their children – Lwaxana Riker, aged three and Michael Riker aged one – were able to use their quarter-Betazoid empathy in conjunction with the latent psychic residue in him. Although with T'Pol now back in his life, he had all the psychic calming he needed.
It wasn't easy getting his head around which words to use to Claire – Kyle was with the kids and unable to make the call – but she seemed genuinely pleased for him.
Tucker residence
Knowing it was the last night before his duties on the USS Elizabeth would resume, Tucker decided he would miss the view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
He went and stood behind T'Pol who was absorbing the modern-day scenery. He hugged her and she lovingly stroked his muscular arms. Both Tucker and T'Pol were still in their top physical shape, mostly due to the requirements of their careers.
There was so much time they wanted to make up for, so many feelings that were beyond words. They melded. Intimate. Psychic. This was a mental form of love-making. Warm. Passionate. Intimate. Deep.
McKinley Station
Earth orbit
USS Cerberus NCC-81036
Carmichael sat in his captain's chair and held a PADD in his hand. He seemed to have found himself staring at it for hours.
"First it was your big-baby sister issues, then you didn't want me with your older-little sister, who I brought to her family. Now the great Captain Carmichael is in love?!" Came an unmistakeable irritating voice from behind the captain's chair.
"Q." Carmichael sighed. Not the same Q that Jean-Luc Picard first met forty years ago, but his son, godson to Kathryn Janeway.
"Hmm…Julie huh?" Q smirked.
"Why are you on my bridge, while my ships docked?" Carmichael was tired; Q's presence was more of an annoyance than usual.
"I'm always the one that stops you being depressed. Admit it." Carmichael frowned at that comment. "You blew up the USS Panama as an ensign; I was there to take the brunt of your temper. You had loads of problems through lieutenancy. Then the Section 31 incident…" Q's voice trailed off. "When your dad, although you thought he was just a sympathetic captain, took you under his wing, you finally cheered up a bit."
"Do you have a point, or are you just here to remind me why I should've gone to bed." Captain Carmichael and Q's friendship was solely based on them arguing with each other. They were friends. Just not public. The way a 'typical' Vulcan isn't public about their emotions.
"I help you with your love life, you help mine." Q suggested.
"I'm not helping you win over my sister."
"Come on…" Q moaned. A bottle of Kentucky bourbon flashed into his hands, but Carmichael didn't accept the bribe of his favourite liquor.
"You want Liz, sweep her off her feet and win her over yourself." Carmichael told Q.
"I'll be back." Q huffed.
"You always are." Carmichael sighed, then stretched. He was tired.
Q left in his traditional way.
For a moment, Carmichael was alone with his own thoughts, he would've re-read the letter again, but decided to head down to his quarters for some much needed rest.
Chapter Five
September 4th 2404
Warship iHirr'tchak
Fen Domar space
Beta Quadrant
"Tarmbeq!" mBarlneh insulted her first officer, Executive Commander Ylaerr. The commander looked down in shame, she knew her mistake, but that didn't soften the impact of mBarlneh's rage.
"How much information did they get?" mBarlneh screeched.
"Undeterminable, Mistress." Ylaerr admitted.
If this had been a male Fen Domar, mBarlneh would've killed him with her own claws and fangs by now. "What can you tell me that's positive?" mBarlneh wanted to know.
"We destroyed several fighters and captured their pilots." Ylaerr told her superior.
"Officers of the Federation Starfighter Corps, I look forward to…seeing how much use they can be." mBarlneh's thoughts excited her. "Dismissed."
"Yes Mistress." Ylaerr bowed, as she was nearly out of the commodore's office she was stopped in her tracks.
"Ylaerr." mBarlneh called.
Ylaerr turned and took up a low subdued posture. "Mistress?"
"You are demoted to Commander First Class. You may continue serving as my uthrain, until further notice."
"Understood." Ylaerr bowed lowly again. "Thank you Mistress." Ylaerr was then allowed to leave Commodore mBarlneh's office to resume her duties.
"What's going to happen to us Sir?" The terrified Senior Airman Walter Jones asked his superior officer.
"I don't know, but the Starfighter Corps, Starfleet and the Marines they'll save us." Master Sergeant Louis Hendrix replied. He wanted to keep his nervous colleague calm. He looked to his left, to see Senior Airman Dakar, a Cardassian officer, recently attached to his squadron meditating, or praying, this helped Louis feel that he too could be calm, and that it was his duty as superior officer to ensure the calm between the only two surviving members of his squadron there with him.
The jail cell, was small, barely qualifying as a room, there were no facilities and traces of decomposing bodies left there by their captors. Strangely the arrival of mBarlneh and her guards was a relief for Louis, who just needed something to take his mind off the cell's previous resident.
"I am Commodore mBarlneh of the Fen Domar Theocracy."
Then, Senior Airman Dakar sprung into action, leaping at mBarlneh.
The guard to her right stepped in front of her and punched his arm through the Cardassian's chest. His body crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.
"I'm Master Sergeant Hendrix…" Louis started.
"I don't care." mBarlneh snarled. "All I care about, is what use your going to be to me." Using her forked tongue mBarlneh stroked the side of Louis's face, and grinned sadistically.
Chapter Six
September 4th 2404
USS Elizabeth NCC-80975
Deep space
Tucker looked out of the viewscreen, as the USS Cerberus went to warp. They were investigating reports that the Starfighter Corps had information on the Fen Domar. Meanwhile the Elizabeth had been assigned to investigate a spatial rift, believed to be a void between two universes.
"Space. Time. Universe. Exactly how many things this void distorts is incredible…" Tucker's voice trailed off as he read the reports.
"What do you believe resides within?" T'Pol asked. Succeeding Spock, T'Pol had been assigned as Ambassador to Vulcan and allowed to serve as diplomatic officer on the USS Elizabeth.
"Me or Starfleet?" Tucker asked for clarification.
"Both." T'Pol replied truthfully.
"Starfleet Security fears it's the Mirror Universe, but the temporal element throws that into question…I wouldn't wanna be out here and have a Terran Empire timeship emerge." Tucker laughed at the grim concept. "Me though? I'm unsure remember the Daedalus universe?" T'Pol nodded. "It took a while for me to click to that, the change in the message I wrote in the book given to Victor Brodesser, was the turning point. Subtle differences are so confusing." Tucker frowned.
"I remember. You saved all of us." T'Pol said, clearly acting to comfort Tucker.
"Admiral Tucker to the bridge." Came the voice of Tucker's XO Commander Forneus Nox over the com.
Tucker and T'Pol exited the ready room and stepped onto the bridge. Tucker sat in his chair, positioned in the exact centre of the bridge, T'Pol was to his left, Nox to his right.
"Report." Tucker ordered.
"We're holding position at the mouth of the distortion Sir." Ensign Shran said. Seated on Shran's left hand side was the ship's operations officer, a Betazoid, and a creepily silent one too.
The bridge design was based on that of a Sovereign class starship, although the configuration of the consoles themselves differed tremendously.
"Full scan Mister Zaran." Tucker ordered the Betazoid.
"Aye Sir." He replied in a soft yet deep voice.
"Admiral…" Lieutenant Commander Tim Danson, the ship's tactical officer said, from the station behind Commander Nox. "A ship's emerging, but if this is right then…"
"Admiral!" Shran cut off Commander Danson.
Through the viewscreen the sight of a Constitution class ship gripped everyone in silence.
"Identify." Tucker ordered.
Lieutenant Zaran punched in the appropriate controls, then paused. "NCC-1764, USS Defiant. Sir, she's from our universe."
"She must have got lost in another, see if you can…" A beeping stopped Tucker mid sentence.
"We are being hailed Sir." Commander Danson reported.
"On screen." Tucker nodded, before leaning back in his chair.
The screen was filled with the – at first frowning in anger but then frowning in confusion – face of Charles Tucker, the only difference was a disfiguring scar down the left side of his face.
He, like his crew were dressed in twenty-third century Starfleet uniforms. Tucker's was gold, and featured the captain rank wrist stripes. The only other NX-01 crew member that could be seen was Travis Mayweather, who sat at the tactical station, dressed in a red uniform, displaying the stripes of an officer at the rank of lieutenant commander.
"This is Captain Charles Tucker of the Terran Empire; you will surrender your technologies and yourselves to us by the authority of Empress Sato." The deformed CO barked.
"In case you haven't noticed, you're up against a ship one hundred and fifty years more advanced than yours, and a crew with training two hundred years more advanced than yours." Tucker was being as aggressive as his Mirror counterpart
"Surrender! Now!" Mirror Tucker growled. Admiral Tucker paused for a moment, he knew in the Mirror Universe's 2404, Intendent Charles Anthony Tucker III was CO of the ISS Cerberus. He looked down at the sensor link on his command chair and saw the USS Defiant had travelled from the Mirror-2161.
I can't kill him. Damn! Tucker thought to himself. Think fast Charles. He told himself. "So…Hoshi became Empress huh?"
"What?!" Mirror Tucker snapped. Partially out of surprise.
"Hoshi, you called her 'Empress Sato'?"
"I heard you."
"Then why'd you say what?"
"You're stalling!" Mirror Tucker accused.
No shit.
"Close the channel." Mirror Tucker ordered Mirror Mayweather.
"Orders Captain?" Mirror Mayweather asked.
"Load all torpedoes, ready fires, target their critical systems."
"Aye." He smiled. A few seconds later, "Captain Tucker, all weapons are ready."
"Fire at will Major."
The Constitution class ship flew over the dorsal section of the USS Elizabeth and opened fire on its dorsal nacelle. The Defiant's phasers could not penetrate the Elizabeth's shields.
"They're coming about." Lieutenant Commander Danson reported. There was no point in him asking the admiral whether or not to deploy the armour, considering the enemy vessel couldn't even break through the shields.
Making another pass, the Defiant's phasers proved ineffective. When dead ahead of the Elizabeth, photon torpedoes were fired from the aft launcher.
"Still no effect Captain." Major Mayweather reported.
Captain Tucker sighed a sigh of frustration and stood behind his XO at the tactical station. Subtly – and proud to have managed to overcome MACO training – Captain Tucker rammed a blade through Major Mayweather's neck.
"It was that or the Agony Booth." He whispered evilly as Mayweather slowly bled to death. In all honesty, he did just want to kill the MACO scum, he only needed an excuse. "Move!" Captain Tucker barked, taking over the helm.
"What the hell's he doing?" Admiral Tucker exclaimed, it was a rhetorical question, not directed at anyone. Through the viewscreen, the old Defiant could be seen increasing to its maximum impulse, on a collision course with the USS Elizabeth. Now or never Charles. "Fire." Tucker ordered.
The Elizabeth opened fire with its forward phaser array, obliterating a large chunk of the Defiant's secondary hull. Crippled the vessel span helplessly. Tucker had miscalculated there.
The saucer section of the Constitution class ship collided with the Elizabeth's saucer section.
Archer class starships were similar in design to the Sovereign class, with the exception of the third warp nacelle and the secondary deflector dish, retrofitted to the front of the saucer section, almost resembling a gun. This secondary deflector made impacts less dramatic, a feature that Tucker was more than grateful for at this time.
Although the impact had caused some damage, and claimed the life of Tucker's XO Commander Forneus Nox. Nox had taken over in January when Carmichael was promoted to Captain. It was then; the truth came out about Carmichael's heritage.
Tucker knew he could be angry about the death of his first officer of nine months, later.
"Bridge to engineering." Tucker tapped the communications link on his chair.
"Lieutenant White here Sir." The voice of his young chief engineer was unmistakeable.
"I want nacelle power control."
"May I ask why?"
"You'll find out if my plan works."
There was a pause. "Transferring now Admiral."
"Shran."
"Admiral?" The Andorian ensign turned to face his CO.
"I need you to be precise."
The Constitution class ship came round for another pass. The Elizabeth engaged its impulse engines and flew past the side of the Defiant. Close.
Then, the warp engines of the Elizabeth engaged, not so the ship could proceed to warp speed, but to create a burst of warp energy. The timing and piloting were perfect.
Its hull crackling with energy, the adrift Defiant floated aimlessly in space, as the Elizabeth turned to face it.
"Well done Ensign." Tucker smiled, most of the crew on the bridge were panting as during the manoeuvre, they'd held their breath.
"Thank you Sir." Ensign Shran was no exception.
"What do we do now Admiral?" Lt Commander Danson asked.
"Ready quantum torpedoes, full spread." Tucker said regrettably.
"Ready Sir." Danson reported after punching in the appropriate commands on his console.
"Fire." Tucker said softly.
Six quantum torpedoes were fired directly at the Defiant, smashing its grey hull, tearing the piece of history apart. Two torpedoes hit a nacelle causing a chain reaction that resulted in the ship's explosion.
Before Tucker could breathe a sigh of relief, Lieutenant Zaran spoke up. "Sir. One ship remains, a shuttle." He reported.
"Who's on board?" Tucker asked quickly, remembering Intendent Tucker from the Mirror Universe's 2404.
"Their Tucker Admiral." Zaran reported.
As the shuttle closed in on the rift, it hit him. Tucker knew that a carefully modified pulse into the temporal rift could be enough to duplicate their Tuckedr and send him to a different timeline.
There's a chance it could go wrong. Tucker thought.
No there isn't. Logic dictates that this is a predestination paradox. T'Pol replied in his mind. H turned to face her, and smiled warmly.
"Charge the shield grid with antiprotons and fire a beta tachyon pulse through the main phaser array." Tucker ordered Danson.
"Aye Sir." Danson replied looking down at his station.
From the ventral phaser bank the beam fired, slamming into the rift. Once the shuttle entered it, a large flash of light removed them both from vision.
It was done.
Chapter Seven
September 4th 2404
USS Cerberus NCC-81036
En route to Starbase 12
The corridors were empty. Why are they empty? Someone was there. 'But I am alone'. Liz Soden spun round; her human side had taken away any possible Vulcan calmness.
"Who's there?" Soden called.
Silence.
She ran onto the bridge. No captain. No tactical officer. No helmsman. No-one.
By some compulsion she walked slowly into the centre of the bridge.
She was no longer alone.
Tucker, T'Pol, Carmichael, Black, Clay, Macauley, Smith, Deacon, Doyle, Manders, Bhaduri, Cotterill and Pipes had her surrounded. They were Borg.
They spoke. The voice was Borg (Not the voice of the Collective, but the voices of those around her, speaking simultaneously).
"Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Soden. Surrender yourself. Life as it has been and existence as you know it is over. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. From this time forward you and your culture will adapt to service us. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." Said the voice.
She reached for her weapon. She was unarmed.
"I'll never surrender to you!"
"You have failed us." That was the robotic voice of Carmichael.
"The family you wanted so much will be lost." That was the robotic voice of T'Pol.
The assimilated Charles Tucker then moved forward and grabbed Soden by the neck with his cold hands. "Surrender, or they will all die!"
"Bridge to Commander Soden…"
She shot up. Covered in a cold sweat of illogical fear.
"Liz, respond." It was Carmichael's voice.
Liz reached for her combadge and pressed on it. "Trip." She gasped.
"What's up Sis, you're never late for a duty shift." Her brother's concerned voice felt sharp to her.
"I'm on my way." She dismissed the question, and closed the channel.
Doctor Macauley – who had been subtly listening in on the conversation – chose that moment to walk over to Captain Carmichael.
"Trip, I'm worried about Liz." He'd been friends with the captain for a long time; he knew he could voice his concerns bluntly.
"Why Nigel?" Carmichael looked up. There was an expression on the Irishman's face, a grim one. Not like the one where he was close to losing one of the drinking contests they enjoyed – so many years, Carmichael had never won one, but his Texan foster grandparents wouldn't be too ashamed that he lost to an Irishman – this expression was one Carmichael could tell was backed up with knowledge.
"Lately, some of Liz's scans have shown hyper-stimulation in the cerebral cortex."
"Meaning?" Carmichael wanted to know.
"I need to run a more detailed scan before I come to any conclusions."
"Theories?"
"I know it's not natural." Macauley said with a stern confidence.
The conversation was abruptly terminated as Liz Soden walked onto the bridge. She looked at Carmichael and Macauley before taking her place at the astrometrics station.
Carmichael looked at Macauley and was prepared to make a decision regarding his sister, when – thankfully – Ensign Pipes interrupted the thought.
"Captain, the medical ship Lister just joined our course, Captain Phlox is hailing." The ensign report.
Carmichael's eyebrows rose involuntarily. "I'll take it in my ready room." He said, as he walked across the bridge.
Carmichael sat at his polished desk and tapped the computer. The face of a Denobulan woman, who looked Carmichael's age but in reality was twice it, smiled.
"Pheluna." He smiled back.
"Enjoying the big chair Trip?"
"Not as much as you enjoy asking me." Carmichael laughed. Both Carmichael and Pheluna Phlox had been promoted to captain at the same time, during the seven years they both served on the Elizabeth, Carmichael had regularly spoke of how much he wanted a command of his own.
"We seem to both be heading for Starbase 12, care for some company?"
"Sure thing. How come you've been called to Risa?"
"Another shift in hospital ship patrol routes. They've got you Prometheus class boys out in the action while we Hope class are just sent aimlessly to help anyone who happens to be in need." Carmichael laughed, he could never keep a straight face when it came to Denobulan sarcasm.
"Well, you're welcome to join us." Carmichael managed to stop laughing and speak.
"I know." She smirked, giving Carmichael one of her unnaturally wide Denobulan grins. "Did you hear about the Saxon?"
"Lost. Officially."
"The Archer class ships aren't fairing too well…" Pheluna started.
"First the Enterprise-F, then the Archer, the Fortune and the Avalon."
Pheluna noticed Carmichael's grim expression. "The Elizabeth will be fine Trip." She said in her seldom heard serious tone.
"Yeah, you're right." Carmichael sighed and gave an eventual smile.
The two vessels proceeded to Starbase 12, a large facility orbitibg Risa, it was where Vice Admiral Christopher La May designer of the upgraded Prometheus class worked.
The Cerberus and the Lister dropped out of warp. Carmichael looked down at the beautiful pleasure planet, but any feelings of awe were quickly trampled by the memories of one previous shore leave, that went horribly – and embarrassingly – wrong.
"Open a channel to Starbase 12." Carmichael ordered. The face of Christopher La May almost immediately filled the viewscreen. "Admiral y…" Carmichael started.
"Captain, we've got Borg vessels approaching, a fleet of them. They were heading for Earth, but we've sent out enough signals and sensor readings, they're on their way here."
"Admiral? There's not much defence here." Carmichael frowned.
"The Lancaster, the Sakura and the Atlantis are only two minutes away. Starbase 12 has some weapons and we can evacuate on the USS Lincoln."
Carmichael looked down at his panel. "USS Lincoln NCC-80403, Freedom class? What kind of fight do you expect that to put up against a Borg armada?!" Carmichael was furious.
"It'll do for the evacuation." La May insisted.
"Why don't you just climb onboard one of the old Oberth class ships, maybe with a contingent of type 1 shuttles?" Carmichael ranted.
"You're out of line Captain, help defend this station while we evacuate all personnel to the Lincoln, while you're keeping the Borg busy we'll call for reinforcements. Understood?"
"Perfectly Sir." Carmichael sighed.
La May quickly closed the channel and the viewscreen returned to show Risa and Starbase 12 orbiting it. Carmichael slumped in his chair and groaned to himself. It seemed as if the moments passed with great speed. The three other Starfleet vessels dropped out of warp, the Archer class USS Lancaster, the Excalibur class USS Sakura and the Sovereign class USS Atlantis.
How much of a fight do they expect us to put up against a Borg armada? Carmichael thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of a transwarp conduit.
By size and power comparison, it was a Borg armada, but only a small battle group in terms of numbers. Two Cubes, one Class IV Tactical Cube, five Spheres, nine 'Coffin' Probes and disturbingly the personal ship of the Borg Queen herself, the Diamond.
Staring out of the viewscreen the fact that she was personally involved in the battle haunted the Cerberus crew and Captain Carmichael assumed all the other crews too.
Carmichael put his head in hands, and let out a deep mournful sigh.
"Captain." That was Bidderz. "Vessels de-cloaking."
A large Klingon fleet led by the Negh'Var class IKS Martok, accompanied by a contingent of warships, Mek'hlar class, a radically updated version of the K't'inga class, Kron class, radically updated versions of the Vor'cha class as well as squadrons of K'vort class bird of preys. There was also a large Romulan fleet led by the huge Norexan class warship the IRC Mogai, accompanied by D'deridex and Valdore class warbirds, as well as Velex class bird of preys and Kerchan class interceptors.
We've come a long way since the days of Archer and Kirk. Carmichael said to himself.
"We're being hailed by the Mogai and the Martok." Reported Ensign Pipes.
Carmichael stood up. "On screen."
The screen became filled with two faces, Admiral Sela of the Romulan Star Empire and General Alexander Rozhenko of the Klingon Empire.