Killing Time

Captain Kirk didn't give a damn about the timeline. To hell with Starfleet's orders. Someone was dying, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Coming within range, Captain," Sulu said.

"Distance, Mr. Spock?"

"Sixty million kilometers and closing Captain," Spock reported from his station. "The computer has verified its identity as the Nova, a civilian craft."

Though he'd only been in command for a short time, Kirk couldn't recall a situation that had been as tense as this one was turning out to be. As he looked around the bridge, he could see it in his officers as well. They may have been intent on their duties, but Kirk could sense their anxiety. He could tell they were all asking themselves the same question. Are we doing the right thing?

McCoy was on the bridge, and he was the one who finally spoke up. The doctor was never known to keep his opinions to himself. "Starfleet will probably drum you out of the service when they hear about this, Jim."

Kirk waved him off. "Not now, Bones. Lieutenant, has there been any response to our hails?"

Uhura turned to respond, and Kirk saw something different on her face. Frustration. "No, sir. We're still receiving the automatic beacon, but nothing more. Signal strength is beginning to fade."

"Captain," Spock began, his attention still on his scanner. "I believe I have an explanation for that. Sensors detect a loss of primary power aboard the Nova. The vessel will expend its auxiliary power supplies within ninety minutes."

Whatever doubts Kirk had had were washed away with that one statement. He knew they had to act, and if it meant polluting the timeline, then so be it. The time for philosophical debates was over.

Initially, travelling three days into their own past seemed like a cause to celebrate, considering the events of their mission to Psi 2000. Most of the crew had fallen victim to an unusual virus, causing their emotions to run rampant. Not even the unemotional Mr. Spock had been immune to its effects.

Dr. McCoy had eventually isolated an antidote, but not before Lieutenant Riley had fallen victim to the virus and shut down the warp engines. The Enterprise had come dangerously close to being destroyed in the planet's atmosphere, when Spock and Scotty imploded the engines, saving the ship and her crew. However, it had had the unforeseen side effect of sending the ship back through time.

When Kirk made his report to Starfleet, he was ordered to change course. Their next assignment was put on hold. The Enterprise was ordered to a nearby sector in a remote portion of the quadrant, with instructions to hold position, and to stay out of history's way. The brass at headquarters felt they posed a risk to the timeline, considering that, for all intents and purposes, there were now two Starships Enterprise. Until her "sister ship" orbiting Psi completed it's mission, Enterprise was unofficially decommissioned.

But Kirk had changed the rules. It was the final day of their inactive status, and they'd received the Nova's distress call. It was a small single-passenger vessel just on the edge of scanner range. They'd gone by procedure at first, scanning for any other vessels within interception range. There were none.

"Captain, we're receiving a hail from Starfleet Command," Uhura reported. Apparently, they'd decided to keep an eye on the Enterprise, and were immediately alerted when it set out on its rescue mission.

"No reply, Lieutenant," Kirk said. He knew what they were going to say, and saw no point in answering the hail.

He noticed that McCoy was pacing the bridge back by the turbolift. He'd gotten so close the door had "whooshed" open a few times. "Sorry" was all he would say. Kirk knew why the doctor was so preoccupied. They had no way of knowing who was on that ship, and what effect, if any, they would have on the timeline. Kirk was thinking the same thing of course, but he never let it show. As far as those around him on the bridge could tell, this rescue mission was no different from any other.

For a time, there had been an awkward silence, as no one felt comfortable discussing what they were doing. It was finally broken by a report from Sulu.

"Captain! We're dropping out of warp!"

Kirk activated the comm unit on his chair. "Kirk to engineering."

"Scott here, Captain," came the engineer's reply. If Scotty was feeling the pressure, then Kirk couldn't hear it in his voice.

"Scotty, what the devil's going on? I thought you repaired those engines."

"Aye, I did, Captain. It's a power drain of some kind."

"Engines are completely off-line, Captain. We're starting to drift," Sulu said.

It felt odd to Kirk. It was the second time in a week that his engines had been shut down. The first time, while in orbit of Psi 2000, had almost cost the crew their lives. While they currently appeared to be in no immediate danger, he still didn't like the feel of it.

Spock was still manning his scanner. "Readings indicate that the Nova has approximately one hour of life support capabilities left. No other vessels have responded to the hail."

"One problem at a time, Spock. What about this power drain? Can you identify the source?"

"Negative. Scanners detected a subspace pulse, but I am unable to pinpoint its origin. Other key systems are now being affected as well. Transporters, shields, and weapons are now all off-line."

That troubled Kirk. They were close to the Romulan border, though it had been years since the Federation had heard from the Empire, following a decades-long war between the two governments. How far had Romulan technology advanced in that time? Their homeworld was several days away, but were they able to generate the pulse over great distances? Or was it generated from a vessel, perhaps one that had the ability to hide itself from sensors sweeps? Kirk hoped neither scenario was true. He was starting to feel like a sitting duck.

"Any signs of other vessels in the area?"

Spock was already scanning for other ships. "Nothing definite, Captain."

"Nothing definite?"

"Other than ourselves and the Nova, sensors show no vessels in the area. There are no indications of warp trails, or any other signs of recent passage through this area of space. However, I am detecting tachyon particles."

"Tachyons?" Kirk asked. He knew that Federation scientists had theorized that tachyons could be used to achieve time travel, a subject the Enterprise was now quite familiar with. "Spock, is there any chance they could be residue from our own journey back through time?"

"None. An engine implosion such as the one that brought us here would not create such particles. Also, tachyons have an extremely short life span. If we had used any in our journey, they would have been depleted by now. These readings are less than an hour old."

"What's their point of origin?"

"Directly off our starboard bow."

"Is it a ship?"

"Possibly."

Kirk didn't like having to solve this mystery while a life was at stake. He needed a solution and he needed it fast.

"Spock, see if you can't retune the sensors. I want to know the source of those tachyons. Uhura, send out a hail on all frequencies. If there's another ship out there, I think it's time they introduced themselves."

Spock and Uhura went about their respective tasks. Kirk knew what his officers were capable of. He only hoped there would be enough time.

*****

It had been over a half an hour since the Enterprise had started to drift, and its crew was still helpless to act. Scotty may have been a miracle worker, but the pulse, whatever it had been, hadn't known that. The engineer could do nothing to get the ship moving, and was even more puzzled by the cause. Uhura continued hailing their unknown adversary, and got static in return.

McCoy was now demanding to know what was going on. On most occasions, the doctor could keep his patience in check. But not when the stakes were life and death.

"Bones, we're doing----"

"Captain," Spock interrupted. "Sensors have locked on to a vessel. It seems to be in a state of temporal flux."

"Configuration?"

"Approximately half the size of the Enterprise. Sensors are unable to penetrate the hull however, making it impossible to determine crew complement or weapons armament."

Kirk knew that any vessel that was capable of both hiding itself from sensors as well as time travel was certainly more technologically advanced than the Enterprise. He shuddered to think what their weapons would be capable of.

"Captain, Mr. Spock. We're being hailed," Uhura interrupted.

"The Nova?"

"No sir. The message is coming in on a Federation channel."

"Starfleet again."

"I don't think so sir. It's much closer than before, directly off our starboard bow."

Now, all eyes were on Kirk. "Put them on Lieutenant."

"On screen sir."

The image of the vacant starfield faded, and was replaced by the close-up visage of an older man. He looked to be in his late forties. Sulu looked back from his panel with a look of concern. Kirk could not see much of anything other than the man's face, but he was able to make out what appeared to be a uniform. Whose he wasn't sure. Oddly, it had what appeared to be the Starfleet insignia, but it was distorted, smaller and wider.

His first words were pleasant enough, but they immediately put Kirk on red alert.

"Captain Kirk. It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

It was rare that anyone took Kirk by surprise, but this man had succeeded.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," Kirk replied.

"Quite right. An introduction is long overdue. I'm Captain Braxton."

*****

Like James T. Kirk, Braxton was a man out of time. Six hundred years to be exact. It may have been some time since his last mission, but it still filled him with awe to be meeting a figure from history with a career as decorated as Kirk's had been. Kirk was certainly a legend, known for his tactical wizardry. The fact that he had detected Braxton's ship at all was proof of that, and Braxton chastised himself over such an obvious blunder. But for now, whatever it was that Kirk had to say, he had the man's complete attention.

"Forgive me, but what exactly are you captain of?" Kirk asked.

Braxton may have had all of time at his disposal, but he never had much time for small talk. "Captain-er Jim, do you mind if I call you Jim? This use of our titles will get quite tiring."

"All right. And you are?"

Braxton told him his name, but any other information about who he was or where he came from was not as forthcoming. Kirk was beginning to lose his patience.

"Listen Captain," Kirk said. It was more a question than a statement. "We detected the tachyon particles, so we know you're from another time. And from your level of technology, I'd say somewhere in our future. If that's the case, then you probably know the Enterprise is on a rescue mission. Every minute counts. There's a life hanging in the balance, and the longer we stay here chatting about it, the more likely that person is going to die. I will not allow that to happen."

Braxton considered Kirk's comments for some time before responding. The awe of meeting Kirk had quickly passed. The history books had been right about this one. Kirk was a menace who cared nothing about the timeline. Though Braxton had been desperate to get another command, this mission was not turning out to be the sort of assignment he had in mind.

Braxton had spent several years in intense physical and psychological reconditioning, following his disastrous three-decade-old mission to the twentieth century. He'd even earned a badge of shame among his peers, as creator of the newly coined "Pogo" Paradox. His presence in the mission had caused the very disaster he had been sent to prevent. But Braxton took some comfort in that it took its name from the counselor at the institute who'd studied his case, and that it was not named after him.

It had felt like an eternity since he'd last commanded a timeship for the Federation, and while it may not have been the most glamorous posting, a ship was a ship. The Relativity was certainly a capable vessel, but it was by no means a top of the line model. By twenty-ninth century standards, it was obsolete, an adjective that many in Starfleet felt applied to the captain as well. He had undertaken this mission on his own accord, in an attempt to prove them wrong.

"You're right, Jim, I am indeed from a Federation in your future. But beyond that, I'm not at liberty to discuss precise dates. You see, we are bound by a law very much like your own prime directive. If I were to tell you too much about our origins, then I would be in violation of that rule."

It seemed a little too convenient for Kirk's tastes, but at the moment, he had no other choice but to take this man at face value.

"What is it you want from me, Braxton?"

"I know what you're planning, and I can't permit it. Your vessel doesn't belong in this timeline, and any actions you take will have repercussions. Since there's no official Federation presence in this sector, I'm acting on their behalf. You are to stand down and hold your position. Officially Captain Kirk, your ship doesn't exist."

"Then you have no authority here, Braxton."

Before anyone on the Enterprise's bridge could react, Kirk vanished in what appeared to be a transporter beam. And there on the viewscreen, they noticed Braxton's sneer as it happened.

*****

In the blink of an eye, Kirk found himself on what he guessed was a transporter platform, aboard a vessel that while technologically superior to the Enterprise, still had a Starfleet feel to it. It was nothing he could put into words, but for some reason, Kirk felt safe here.

"Forgive me for being so abrupt, Jim. We don't usually interact with those native to a timeline we visit. At least, we try not to."

"Should I feel honored, Braxton?" Kirk asked, as he took a look around his new environment. Braxton didn't miss it.

"Twelve, Jim."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The answer to your next question. How many officers are there? You see Jim, time is on my side. I know all about you, and more importantly, I know how you think. You're looking for any tactical advantage. I assure you, there are none."

"You can't blame me for trying."

Braxton motioned towards a younger man, a dark-haired gentleman he referred to as Lieutenant Ducane. "My first officer, Jim."

"Isn't he a little young to be first officer?"

Kirk was just as intuitive as history had recorded, Braxton thought to himself. Good officers were hard to find, especially for a ship this old, and for a captain whose career had seen better days.

"He serves me well. But Jim, let's talk about you. What are you doing here? Aren't you concerned about the timeline? You don't know a damned thing about the lifeform on that vessel. How do you know that they won't turn out to be the next Colonel Green or Governor Kodos?"

Braxton knew which buttons to push. He knew Kirk's history, and of his personal connection to Kodos, the governor who had ordered the execution of over 4,000 men and women at the colony where Kirk had grown up. But for the moment, he didn't let Braxton's argument sway his decision.

"We'll save the philosophical debates for later Braxton. Right now my only concern is for the safety of that vessel."

"You're just as self-righteous as Janeway."

Kirk didn't understand the reference, but it wasn't his concern at the moment. "Braxton, you're right, we don't know what effect that life will have on the timeline, or history, or the Federation, or whatever. But the same thing could be said about any one of us. No one knows what tomorrow holds----"

"Present company excluded," Braxton interrupted.

"But the point is," Kirk continued, "when a life hangs in the balance, you have to take the risk, and I will every time. For every Colonel Green there are a dozen Martin Luther Kings. Men who make a real difference. And what kind of men would we be if we just let them perish? It's not the human thing to do."

"It's a fine argument, Jim, and any other time, if you'll excuse the term, I'd agree with you. But you're a man out of time. I'm afraid I have no choice. Your vessel must return to the exact moment it left the timeline, to prevent any contamination."

"And we just let that pilot die?"

"I'm not without sympathy, Jim. It doesn't fill me with joy to condemn that person to death. But look at it from our viewpoint. That person died 600 years ago. Whether it's today or years from now, they're still dead. But the timeline must be preserved."

Before Braxton could continue, Ducane stepped in, and handed him a padd. And Braxton's jaw dropped. "Has this been confirmed, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir."

"How could this have----"

"It would appear, Captain," Ducane began, with ice in his voice, "that your absence from service has made you forget a few standard procedures. In your haste to make a name for yourself, you never took the time to examine the pilot's lineage. I think you'll agree, as would Command, that under these conditions, our mission must be aborted."

Braxton looked as if he'd been hit in the face with a titanium rod. All color was gone, as the implications of his actions sank in. This latest mistake, compounded by the fact that he had allowed the Enterprise to detect his vessel in the first place, cast serious doubt on his ability to command. He was beginning to wonder if he had been released from the institute a bit prematurely. "Of course, Lieutenant. Have the pulse deactivated at once. Allow the Enterprise to continue on its way."

"Yes, sir."

It was obvious there was something going on that Kirk wasn't privy to, and as much as he wanted to learn more about Braxton and his vessel, another ship needed him now. But before he left, he had a few parting words for the captain. "That's it? No apologies, just send them on their way?"

"You won, Jim."

"This time," Kirk almost grinned as he said the word. "But how do I know our ships won't cross paths again some day?"

Braxton had no answer for that. He knew Kirk's career, and of his record for temporal incursions. In all likelihood, the two captains would indeed meet again some day.

"Jim, do what Starfleet ordered, and try to stay out of history's way." "Your history is made up of our tomorrows, Braxton. We can't live our lives by your playbook. It's too constricting. That's not what we're about."

"Save that speech for Starfleet, Jim. You're going to have plenty to answer for when this is all over."

"It would seem that you have some explaining to do yourself," Kirk said, pointing at the padd in Braxton's hand. "What will you tell your superiors?"

"That's the beauty of beauty of being a temporal investigator, Jim. It's a lot easier to cover up your mistakes. By tomorrow, none of this will have ever happened."

Kirk let out a small laugh. "Goodbye, Braxton."

"Goodbye. And good luck, Captain Kirk."

*****

"Time, Captain."

"An ironic choice of words Mr. Spock."

It was over. According to all sensors, there was now only one Starship Enterprise in the timeline. She was free to return to active duty, but first Kirk would have to answer for his transgression. He wasn't too worried about it though. Braxton may not have said much about the future, but Kirk knew more from what he hadn't said. Braxton had respected Kirk, and that respect had to have been earned. He might never have that beach to walk on, but he would always have his one true love, the Enterprise.

Spock stepped down into the command area, a look of puzzlement on his face.

"Something on your mind, Spock?"

"Captain, your report. You never did explain why the captain let you go."

"I'm not exactly sure myself. But I think his actions posed a greater risk to the timeline than did ours. There was something about that pilot that frightened him."

"Does our passenger pose any risk to the Enterprise? Shall I post guards----"

"No, I don't think that was it, Spock. It was more a case of what would happen if we didn't intervene. It seemed crucial that we rescue that ship. I don't know why, and in the interests of preserving the timeline, I'm inclined to leave well enough alone."

Spock couldn't agree more. Time travel was proving to be too risky a venture. Hopefully, this would be their last such assignment.

*****

There were twelve Constitution-class vessels in Starfleet, a number of transport ships, cargo vessels, and supply ships. And of all the possible sickbays to end up in, Audrid Dax never imagined it would be Leonard McCoy's.

He'd given the pilot a clean bill of health, and had discharged her from his care. But she wasn't anxious to leave. She knew she was violating every law her culture held dear, but she was a long way from Trill, and she saw no harm in flirting with her old beau. Perhaps they'd have dinner together before the Enterprise arrived at Starbase 11.

Of course, she could never tell him her little secret, that her previous host, Emony, had had a torrid affair with the doctor during his college years. But she longed to hold him, just once, to remember what it felt like to be in his arms. That was something though, that she could not allow herself. For she knew where the embrace would take her and the doctor, and to become romantically involved, to even hold a relationship with someone close to a former host would be enough to ban Audrid from Trill society forever. It was just too much to risk. Who knew. Perhaps in the years to come, the mores of her society would change, and she could be close with McCoy again. Whether it was Audrid or some future host, Dax hoped that Leonard would be around to see that day as well.

Only time would tell. 1