Part I: HISTORY NEVER FORGETS
2329 - The Kitnor
1.
The Enterprise veered left and the inertial compensators finally gave out. Everyone on the bridge of the Enterprise-B was flung violently in the opposite direction and Captain Merdin Lury was almost thrown from the command chair.
"That's it, no further," he said to himself, but with all the noise and confusion around him, none of his crew heard. "Helm, all-stop. Number One, give the order to abandon ship."
"Helm not responding sir," shouted Ronson, clambering back into his seat in front of the helm controls, "but the impulse engines are out again anyway."
The ship was now rolling uncontrollably and the yaw couldn't be stopped without the reaction control system, which had stopped working an hour before, just after they had entered the nebula.
"Sir, without stabilising the ship it's going to be almost impossible to launch a shuttle," warned Commander Egan.
"Don't worry," said Lury, we've got the best helmsman in the fleet haven't we?" He smiled in the direction of Lieutenant Commander Ronson, but he knew he as asking a great deal. That had always been the way of things aboard the Enterprise. Everything he'd ever asked of his crew always just happened, without question and beyond his highest expectations. Even after thirteen years in command of the Enterprise-B, they could still surprise him.
They could feel the push of true physics now, without the artificial gravity field and stabilsers that they normally lived with every day. The Enterprise was starting to rotate about two axis simultaneously.
"All remaining crew waiting aboard the shuttlecraft sir, but I don't think we should keep them waiting for too long," said Egan.
"There's one more thing we have to do." All it needed was a glance at Egan and the Second Officer R'ulleth for them to know what he meant. "Computer, initiate auto-destruct sequence. Authorisation Lury-Alpha-Alpha-One-Alpha," but there was no response from the computer.
"Off-line, Looks like we lost the option to self-destruct as well," said Egan.
"Secondary auto-destruct?" Asked Lury. Egan looked at the display screens in front of him and shook his head.
"We don't even have enough anti-matter on board to rig an explosion, we dumped it all when we ejected the reactor core."
"Well it's a big nebula," said Lury, "just have to hope the right people find the ship first." The Captain hauled himself over to the communications panel with some difficulty and checked the coded signal he'd set up one last time. Then he set it to send out a brief burst and shut down. The other two officers made for the access ladder and Lury entered the Jefferies tube behind them.
"Goodbye old friend," said Lury, clamping the door shut behind him with the manual controls and making his way down to the escape shuttle.
Four Years Later
2.
Captain Rachel Garrett stared at the portrait hanging on the wall of the observation lounge. It was an oil painting of Captain Merdin Lury, her predecessor. The great lineage of Enterprise Captains were here from Jonathan Archer, to Robert April, Christopher Pike and James T. Kirk and on to John B. Harriman, Demora Sulu and finally Lury. It was a lineage that Garrett was now a part of, she realised. She stared up at the last portrait, Lury. While the others were mere names in Starfleet history or characters out of a holo-vid recording, Merdin Lury was someone she had known, if only a little. They had not been close friends, but they had met when he'd visited the Federation Embassy on Qo'nos, when Garrett had served as the Starfleet Liaison to the High Council. They spent a pleasant evening at a reception for the crew of the Enterprise-B and afterwards had kept in touch through a series of long and rambling discussions about all kinds of subjects.
Garrett felt the shock as keenly as anyone when the news came that the Enterprise-B had been lost. For a good while the whole Federation had been in shock, more so for the fact that, for the first time in its history, the United Federation of Planets had almost no active enemies. The Klingons, though not entirely at peace, had not been at war with them for forty years and some in the Federation believed they were well on their way to forming an alliance. The Romulans had been huddled in self-imposed isolation for the last twenty-five years, since the Tomed incident.
Probably the hardest thing to take though was the lack of closure. There was no wreckage, no bodies and no definitive account of what had happened. A shroud of mystery surrounded the incident and Starfleet Intelligence had classified all of the reports concerning the Enterprise-B's loss at the highest security levels, leaving only rumours and speculation to flourish. Nobody really seemed to know for sure whether the crew of the Enterprise were alive or dead. The plaque under Lury's portrait merely stated that he was MIA. The inevitable replacement had been hastily prepared, from a pre-existing hull of the latest and most advanced class the fleet could produce. The new Enterprise NCC-1701-C had been commissioned in 2332, just three years after the disappearance of Lury and his ship.
'Missing in Action', Garrett mused. She had pulled virtually every favour she was owed to get more information, but no one knew anything. Everyone told her to forget it, to put the past behind her. For a while she had listened to them, but the nagging doubts had never quite gone away. Then, three hours ago they had come back stronger than ever when her Communications Officer had informed her of an incoming code forty-seven transmission.
This unusual high level security procedure prohibited a record of the communication being noted in any log, or even stored in the ship's computer. The transmission contained a set of co-ordinates and list of very specific security requirements. There was no indication of who had sent it, only that its source used an authentic Starfleet protocol. To Captain Garrett it had Starfleet Intelligence's nasty fingerprints all over it.
A call from her First Officer snapped the Captain from her reverie.
"Captain, we're picking up a ship on long-range sensors. It's approaching our position at warp nine." Garrett stepped through the connecting door from the observation lounge and back onto the bridge to see an expectant Commander McLeran looking back at her. "It's the Uss Ambassador," he said, walking to the aft stations. Garrett settled into the Captain's chair.
"Have the transporter room standing by."
The blue-white flash of a warp field disengaging was followed by the elongated outline of a ship returning to sub-light speed. The Ambassador immediately went into a tight starboard turn and sideslipped for a few hundred metres, making a one-eighty turn. Then the impulse engines fired to null its rate.
"They're launching a shuttle," McLeran reported.
"Notify the main shuttle bay to clear all personnel," Garrett ordered. She looked around for an officer who was of a sufficient rank for the task she had in mind, but who she wouldn't miss for a while. Her eyes settled on the young Lieutenant sitting at the helm controls. "Lieutenant, go down and meet them."
"Sir," Lieutenant Castillo replied smartly, and walked over to the turbolift.
Captain Garrett looked back at the viewscreen. Less than a minute after dropping out of warp, the Ambassador was re-engaging its warp engines. The tiny shuttlecraft that had emerged from the rear of the ship was making good headway and was barely clear of the nacelles when the Ambassador lurched forward and stretched away into warp. The shuttle was buffeted around in the wake of the dissipating warp field but managed to stay on course.
3.
For Richard Castillo the trip to the shuttle bay was a welcome break from the dull routine of the bridge, even if it did mean watching his manners with some high ranking official. Castillo had hoped that life aboard the Enterprise would be as exciting as the name suggested, but so far things had been slow and uneventful. The only things that had happened since he came aboard three months ago involved seemingly endless crew re-assignments. Since Garrett had taken command of the Enterprise almost a year ago, the ship had been through three first officers and each time the senior staff had all had to re-adjust and try to build a good working relationship.
Nobody, as far as he knew, got along with Rachel Garrett. McLeran, the latest executive officer, was trying his best, but the Captain was distant somehow, preoccupied with something. It was as though nothing anybody did was good enough. Everyone knew what it meant to serve on the Enterprise, how it was supposed to be this great honour and she was the best of the best. Everyone felt the pressure to perform at the top of their game, but everybody handled that pressure differently. That must also be true of Captain Garrett, thought Castillo. Maybe she felt that pressure even more than any of them. He just hoped that once the Enterprise and her crew was given a real mission, rather than shakedowns, trials and training exercises, it would all come together.
The crew of the shuttle bay were waiting in the corridor outside when Castillo arrived, as per the Captain's orders. None of them dared to ask Castillo what this was all about. Castillo dismissed them and they all got into the turbolift he'd just arrived in. He keyed in his security clearance to open the door and entered the shuttle bay.
The flight deck took up most of the ship's aft section, which was almost three decks high. The clamshell doors covered the whole of one end of the hangar. Castillo went over to the control booth and turned on the force field which sealed the deck so that the giant doors could open. They slid apart, revealing a stunning panorama of stars beyond. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could just make out the blinking lights on the approaching shuttle, but noticed on the monitor that it was being brought in on manual. The shuttlecraft came in briskly, but well under control. It dropped smoothly onto the deck without any help from the auto-docking system. Castillo could see its two occupants seated in the front. One was a young woman, a Human, and the other was a much older Vulcan male. He set the main doors to close again and left the booth to greet the new arrivals.
As he approached he could see there was something unusual about the shuttle. The basic design was of a standard type six, but it had been heavily modified. There were extra pods on the sides, and some sort of module attached to the roof. He read the name on the side, 'Shuttlecraft Turing', but there was no accompanying starship designation, meaning it wasn't part of the Uss Ambassador's complement.
The side door slid open and two small steps emerged from the lower hull. The female officer got out and extended a hand toward Castillo.
"Lieutenant Marta Batanides reporting," she announced. "I'm Commodore Varen's aide. Permission to come aboard." Castillo could see no good reason to refuse them.
"Permission granted," he smiled. "The Captain's waiting for you both on the Bridge." He glimpsed the Commodore inside the shuttle and stopped smiling, suddenly aware that, despite the young woman's casual greeting, he probably should adopt a more formal bearing. Batanides was only one rank above him, a full Lieutenant to Castillo's Junior Grade, which made him feel a little more comfortable. Batanides moved aside and the Vulcan Commodore made his way down the steps. Castillo stood to attention but the Vulcan failed to give any kind of acknowledgement. He simply walked towards the exit, leaving Batanides and Castillo to trail behind.
Vulcans had no concept of 'small-talk', Castillo quickly realised, which made the relatively long turbolift journey back up to the Bridge seem a lot longer than it was. Among the lower decks, where Castillo spent a good portion of his time, conversation was free and informal, so it was hard for him to hold back from asking Commodore Varen about his journey here, or his mission. It seemed equally inappropriate to start chatting to his aide, Batanides and so the awkward silence was not broken until the doors opened and Castillo had presented the new arrivals to the Captain.
4.
"Commodore on the Bridge," called the First Officer on seeing the Vulcan. Varen needed no introductions with Garrett, she'd met him some years ago and it was not a meeting she was likely to forget.
"Commodore, shall we get straight to the mission briefing?" Forthrightness was one of the few traits of Vulcans that the Captain appreciated. Varen walked through the door to the observation deck and the Captain followed.
"I'll have quarters allocated to yourself and the Commodore, Lieutenant," the First Officer informed Batanides. She nodded and turned her attention to the tactical station.
After a couple of minutes in conference, Captain Garrett emerged grim faced, followed by the Commodore. Whatever orders had been issued to the Captain during the brief exchange, it was clear they were not about to be discussed with the rest of the crew. Garrett looked visibly nervous and hung around behind the command chair, reluctant to take her place.
"Computer, initiate Protocol Varen-Omega, authorisation Varen-One-Six-Five-Omega," said Varen. At first nothing happened, then one by one several bridge stations blanked out or shut down completely. A number of officers found themselves sitting or standing in front of inoperative controls with nothing to do. "Those of you with disabled stations will now leave the bridge," ordered the Commodore. Half a dozen bridge crew made for the turbolifts, leaving only McLeran, Garrett, Varen, Batanides and Castillo. Lieutenant Castillo's helm controls, while not completely disabled, had been locked out, but unsure what he should do, he'd remained in his seat. He'd never heard of anything like this in any of his training.
With a single nod from the Commodore, Lieutenant Batanides walked the few steps to the now vacant navigation position, next to Castillo at the helm. The panel registered her touch-print and retina scan and reactivated the station. She quickly began entering commands and Castillo noticed that some of his own basic controls had now returned, though he was blind as far as the usual sensor feeds of the surrounding area went.
No one spoke until Batanides reported that she had set course and secured the console. Feeling as though her ship was being hijacked, Garrett gave Varen an enquiring glance.
"Do you intend to relieve me of command Commodore?"
"No Captain. I am simply ensuring that our movements are untraceable, either now or in the future. Our course and heading will not be displayed or recorded. Navigation will be locked subject to the security protocols encoded in the ship's systems." Castillo could tell Garrett was angry, but she was trying her best to restrain herself. Still, it seemed incredible that all these procedures could have been programmed into the Enterprise's systems, presumably when she'd been in space dock or maybe even before that. "All data regarding the mission and our location will be restricted." Varen explained.
"What about my crew Commodore, I can't run a ship with two people!" The Commodore strode over to the tactical station, ignoring the Captain's protests.
"You are in command of the ship, I have overall command of the mission." That made it clear enough to Castillo who he should be taking orders from at least.
5.
With no sensor readings to look at, navigational data to check or incoming or outgoing radio messages, the voyage, the duration and direction of which remained a mystery to most of the officers on the Bridge, was becoming extremely dull. In the six hours that followed their departure nobody had much to say. When a call from the Chief Engineer came through it was all the excuse Garrett needed to get away from the unbearable silence that pervaded the command deck. Giving up her seat to Commander McLeran, she left.
After stopping by at Engineering and trying to explain to Lieutenant Commander Cyrus why most of his systems had gone off-line, Garrett returned to her quarters. She dimmed the lights in her room and settled into her lounge chair. Looking out at the stars streaming past her window she tried to calm her mind. Her meditation had a purpose. She was visualising the ship's previous position and bearing. Then she replayed in her mind the turn it had made before entering warp and its speed, all of which she could remember precisely.
It had been a long time since she'd done any mental navigation calculations, but she hoped she hadn't lost the skill. Few humans possessed the innate ability to manipulate four-dimensional data, given that they had evolved in a three dimensional world, but somewhere in her genetic history, Garrett figured, some alien intermix had occurred. She was a little out of practice, Garrett had given up her monthly blind tri-d chess games when she'd taken command of the Enterprise, but soon it all came back to her. Garrett picked up a Padd and then remembered Varen's Omega protocols, no records could be kept of their mission. She would have to remember the results too.
Varen's orders, issued to her in their meeting when the Commodore had come aboard, had finally given her the information she'd been seeking all these years. The truth about the Enterprise-B. Though not in so many words, Varen's orders had convinced her that Lury and his ship were still out there somewhere. They were going on a mission to find him.