A/N: This has been a long time coming. Over a year for many of you. Thank you all for following the story. I now know exactly how to finish this and will be doing so over the course of the next few months.
STARDATE 2260.174
Beta Quadrant
Andorian Space Station
Abandon status - ELE - Council warned - Retrieve AMELIA WRIGHT - Deliver on station
The message on his console was unencrypted, though considering it was sent across a secured channel it was unlikely that there would be an attempt to intercept. The male reading it frowned, scanned the single line again, and searched for clues that there was more to follow before continuing on to break down each segment of the command.
Abandon status. After years of work integrating himself into the crew of the Enterprise, positioning himself in an ideal location to disseminate and retrieve information while gaining the confidence of key crew members, it was now time for him to move on. What the messaged called for would not allow him to be subversive. It would require exposing himself as a member of the Federation's Counter-Intelligence Unit in the FSA because there was simply no time to prepare for concealment.
ELE. Extinction Level Event. It explained why the Federation hadn't encrypted the message, the fear that he wouldn't decode the message in time too great. His brow furrowed as he recalled the last time they had received such a warning. The attack on Vulcan, destruction of an entire planet. At least this time the council had received the notice far enough in advance to react.
Retrieve Amelia Wright. That... that threw him off more than anything. Amelia, their resident horticulturist, was a sought after commodity lately. The command crew of the ship had done their damnedest to ensure that her current state as a terrorist suspect was kept under wraps, but with his status as a counter-intelligence officer he still learned of it. So far, he had assumed she was being set-up, a fact that was bound to come to light once the trial began, but now... now he truly wondered if she was indeed a member of a terrorist organization.
No. The denial came just as soon as the thought crossed his mind. If she was that good then he wouldn't stand a chance at retrieving her. He wouldn't be able to control an asset that well trained. It had to be something else.
In the end, it made no difference. Orders were orders and his time was limited.
Carefully, he closed the computer console and secured it with an alpha-numerical code before slipping it into his locker. His eyes flickered to the clock, mentally calculating the amount of time he had left. Less than thirty minutes until docking. He gave a small sigh, realizing that his window of interception was short.
Amelia was most likely going to be transferred into Starfleet custody on the brig, but as far as he knew she wasn't being held there. Last he had seen her she was being held in her quarters when she wasn't under guard at the hydroponics bay.
He spared another glance at the clock. He'd missed lunch, that was for sure. The thought irritated him more than it should have as he started towards his bunk. Flipping his mattress over, he pulled a multi-tool from underneath. With a twist of his wrist, a blade swung out.
Within moments he had removed the wall panel next to his bunk.
The Enterprise's transporter system could detect and disable weapons, but he hadn't arrived on board the ship via the transporter. No... he had returned on a shuttle with several other contractors after his scheduled leave was over before the mission launch. And the box he had carried on board was of exceptional design, a Federation secret that only a select few knew of.
Lined with a modified form of Kironide, it would hide the contents from almost all prying equipment.
He popped it open, for the first time since being on the Enterprise, and scanned the items inside. A Starfleet phaser. A Klingon disruptor. An Andorian ushaan-tor.
His hand hovered across the Andorian ice blade for a moment before he clenched it into a fist and shifted to grab the phaser. It was the best weapon for the task. No one needed to die for this retrieval, nor was he prepared to engage in hand-to-hand combat, not while he was still recovering from the injury sustained during the ship's battle with the Klingons.
Quickly, he set the phaser to stun, snapped it against his belt, and shoved the case full of weapons back into the hidden panel behind his bunk. It felt strange having the gun on his hip because for so long information had been his weapon.
Shared information, seemingly insignificant, added together could create a very large picture. Was Starfleet strong? Would morale pull them through a war? Where were the weak points? Are humans a threat? Are Vulcans? What about Andorians? Traitors? Is there a chance of dissent?
Contractors?
Amelia Wright. He briefly recalled writing a report concerning the woman shortly after they had met, citing her as valuable after her unique acceptance by the command crew. An unknowing player in the intelligence game...
One more quick look at the clock. Fifteen minutes. The ship rocked with the start of the docking process. She would be moved soon. With little time to waste, he went to the computer console next to the door of his quarters and input a series of numbers.
"Computer, activate protocol Command Access Four-Nine-Zero-Delta."
There was no verbal response, but his communicator chirped twice, indicating that the program was active. Wherever the communicator went, no door would refuse him access. He now had the same freedom across the ship as the Captain did, for at least half and hour.
As he made his way across the Enterprise, he ignored the pressure that built in his chest, one he associated with guilt. This was the hard part of working in counter-intelligence. He had spent years getting to know people, playing the game to earn trust, embedding himself into their lives. Friends. Family. There was no way to avoid the attachment that came from such an extended assignment.
Which meant the guilt that came with betraying them all was also unavoidable.
It was also very unusual. Guilt was a hard feeling to embrace for his kind, for they did not generally trust enough to form the bonds required to feel it. But he had spent so much time around humans, had been practically raised by them, that even despite his occupation or race, he could not cut himself off completely.
The phaser, once concealed against his hip under his shirt, was soon clenched in his hand as he stepped into the corridor where Amelia's quarters were located. She would be shocked, confused, and angry. But if she was as innocent as he believed she would listen if he barked orders at her.
He slowed his stride as he approached, effortlessly slowed his breathing to appear calm. It had been so long since he had conducted field work of this nature.
There were only two guards standing outside her door, both men that he knew by name. They barely had time to open their mouths before he brought up the phaser and shot them, one after another, bodies thudding as they hit the floor.
He stepped over them, sparing a glance down to see if they had vital sign monitors on their wrists. When he saw none, he continued towards her quarters. He did not need to press any buttons on the security panel that had been installed outside her door, the communicator at his side chirping a short series of beeps before the door slid open.
Amelia stood in the center, her eyes wide in that shock he had predicted. In her hands she held a datapadd, the device hovering above her shoulder like she was prepared to use it as a weapon. Her gaze darted past him, to the bodies of her guards on the floor.
Immediately, he supplied in defense, "They're fine, Amelia-dear. Stunned. I need you to come with me."
Confusion followed. "Th'eon... What the hell are you doing?"
STARDATE 2260.174
Beta Quadrant
Andorian Space Station
Amelia sat at her desk, the datapadd Richard had passed on to her, what seemed like a lifetime ago, resting in front of her. Her final video was complete, a dictation of what to do with the datapadd once she handed it over. Soon she'd pass her personal belongings over to Spock, save the datapadd, which she intended to leave to McCoy.
McCoy. Determined McCoy. He'd begged her to fight the charges, but that was a fight she would not be able to stage aboard the Enterprise. He knew it. Kirk knew it.
"The testimony I presented has been logged, however Starfleet has yet to withdraw the warrant." Spock had delivered the news with an expression of sorrow she rarely saw, or maybe she was just more open to it since the mind-meld. When she hadn't said anything in response, he added, "We will continue to gather character testimony from the members of the crew."
She wasn't sure if he had already done that or not, having been unable to interact with her few friends on board since the charges were levied against her. No... the only people she really saw were her guards, Spock, and, occasionally, the Captain. And none of them usually came bearing good news.
Maybe that wouldn't be the case when they came after docking. Already she could feel the shaking of the ship, the decrease in speed and the slight changes in direction. Though she didn't know for certain that it signaled their approach to the space station, she assumed that was the reason for the ship's behavior.
Her hand clutched around the datapadd, her other hand reaching for the strap on her backpack that rested on the floor. She froze when she heard a set of thuds just beyond her door, her backpack forgotten as she turned to face the origin of the noise.
Fingers tightening around the datapadd, she gave an uneasy glance around the room for anything that could be used to defend herself. It was supposed to be a secret that she was facing charges of terrorism, but Amelia held no illusions that such a secret could be kept in such an isolated environment. The countdown for an attempt on her life began the moment that Starfleet placed her under arrest. Hence the two guards that stood outside her room, as much for her protection as everyone else's.
The door hissed, signaling its impending opening and she raised the datapadd over her shoulder. It'd be shame to break it, months of recorded videos and letters, but at least she would have a chance at survival. At the first glance of blue standing in the hallway, her narrowed gaze widened in shock.
Th'eon stood over the bodies of her guards, his hands up and palms spread. The gun in his hand clearly betrayed the innocence he was attempting to convey. He spoke quickly, sensing her obvious need to know what was going on. "They're fine, Amelia-dear. Stunned. I need you to come with me."
The statement may have seemed to him like it would answer all the unspoken questions, but in reality it only served to spur more. Amelia made no attempt to hide the confusion in her voice as she asked, "Th'eon... What the hell are you doing?" Her gaze darted between him and the phaser in his hand, a weapon she had become quite familiar with. "And what are you doing with a gun?!"
"I am a member of the Federation's counter intelligence unit. I have been ordered to deliver you to the Federation Council." He holstered the phaser, moving forward to clasp a hand on her arm. His grip never landed, Amelia jerking back just as quickly to put space between them.
For more than a moment Amelia was certain that the man in front of her wasn't her friend. She'd cooked with him. Shared stories with him. For months she'd depended on him for some sense of stability in this new and unfamiliar world, but for that entire time he had lied to her.
Her dismay must have shown on her face because Th'eon was quick to speak, his tone pleading, "Amelia, I know this is a shock to you and you have every right to be upset, but I need you to trust me. My lies protect this entire ship, this family."
Lies. She couldn't ignore that he wasn't the only liar in the room. For those months that he had played a part, so had she. Amelia Wright, born in 2229. Whatever their reasons were, it didn't make them bad people, or bad friends. It just made them... them. Her lies had never changed the core of who she was just like Th'eon's lies never changed the core of who he was.
Which meant she couldn't take the opportunity of escape that he was, in a way, presenting. Amelia Wright may not have been born in 2229 but one thing true to her nature was that she always faced the road before her. "I can't run, Th'eon. I have to answer these charges."
"Whatever concern you are to Starfleet, it pales in comparison to the vital importance you are to the Federation. The Federation Council has been warned of an Extinction Level Event and for some reason they felt it necessary to pull me from a position that took years to establish just to bring you to them. Now... we can talk along the way, but we must leave this ship." The tone in his voice begged her compliance, but she remained rooted to her place in the room.
She weighed the outcomes, knowing that if she went with him, it would set Starfleet against her. But he was saying that a higher organization wanted her more. To prevent something. Something important enough to expose The'on.
The Federation knew. There was little doubt in her mind as she carefully went over the scenario she was faced with. The Federation knew the real reason she was pulled from her time-line. It was the only thing that made sense, really. Why would they care about some time-line stray unless her value came directly from that?
Answers were there, just beyond reach, but Th'eon was offering her a way to get there.
Run. Fight. Find the Truth...
After just a minute of contemplation she finally reached out and clasped his hand. "Alright. Let's get out of here." And, at the last second, she reached down to grab the strap of her backpack. If she was going to face trouble... she wanted that damn first aid kid.
She'd only ever seen him in his role as the Enterprise's chef, but as they made their way expertly across the ship, she realized that he was born for this. He stunned anyone that came into their path, never once letting go of her hand as they navigated corridors and turbo-lifts. She was near out of breath, but he wasn't struggling, even while missing half an antenna. Heart pumping, she heard roaring in her ears which drowned out the commands Th'eon issued to the computer.
They had just made it onto the docking bay when a loud blare sounded through the ship's communication system. The sound had Th'eon stiffening just before he pulled her down behind some crates in the docking bay.
Unnecessarily, Amelia commented, "I have a feeling that has something to do with us."
"That is a correct assessment, Amelia-dear. They are initiating a lock-down procedure. If we are seen, they will shoot to stun." For the first time since Th'eon had revealed himself to her he looked concerned. Sad even. He'd blown his cover, destroyed relationships, and now it might be for a failed mission.
Answers... beyond the docking bay doors. They just had to make it a few hundred meters. But there were too many guards, roving, searching for them. Some had phasers, some had more rifle type weapons. Even if she and Th'eon were both fighters there was no way to make it into the space station.
Amelia clutched the strap of her backpack. Just when she was certain that her building panic would reach the surface, she felt a surreal calmness pass over her. You know how to defend yourself, Ms. Wright. You have the tools. Now clear your mind and think. An echo in her mind. A stoic voice that belonged to another.
She trusted that voice, knew that he could fight, that his mind was quicker and devoid of the chaos that plagued humanity. And even though he wasn't really there, his essence remained in her mind, determined to protect her.
"Alright, Spock. What do you got for me?"
I think the better question is 'What is it that you have with you'?
She had an Andorian, but by the look on Th'eon's face she could tell that he hadn't come up with a solution yet either. She had a datapadd, but that was as useful as her first aid- The first aid kit in her backpack!
Amelia quietly let the backpack slip off her shoulder so she could tug it open. She wasn't looking for millennia-old nick-knacks or sap or a band-aid.
No…
She was looking for a shield that could protect them all the way to the connection corridor between the Enterprise and the Space Station. Amelia palmed the Nausicaan Shield Generator, flipped it over in her hand to thumb the power switch. Lights around the device came to life, signaling that it was in working order.
"It will only protect one of us," Th'eon said over her shoulder.
Amelia opened her mouth to argue, but realized that he was right. Though it had protected both her and McCoy while on board the Huron, they had been hugging at the time, close enough to both be within the shield's radius. That simply wasn't possible now. She and Th'eon needed to run and dodge, separate to keep the guards from corralling them.
She stared at the Andorian, taking in every feature she could. It was likely that she would never see him again. The way his mouth turned down into a grim frown told her just as much. He'd brought her this far… and not just on their escape run. He'd been the Alien who made her feel at home. He'd guided her growth by being so extraordinarily different in appearance and yet human-like. Acceptance. Humor. Family.
A family that she was leaving. "What do I do, Th'eon?"
"You survive. But more than that, you live." A blue hand fell over her own, resting atop the Nausicaan Shield Generator. Without resisting she let him take it from her hand, only so he could snap it against her uniform belt. "Once you are on the station, Take the first right you come to. Someone will meet you. They will be wearing a Federation insignia on their breast pocket. Stop for no one. Defend yourself. The Federation needs you, Amelia Wright."
There were no goodbyes. No hugs. There was only a small grin on the Andorian's face as he stood from their hiding spot behind the crates and began firing at the guards.
Amelia ran.
Blasts from the phasers dissipated against the shield's wall, distracting flares of color and light just millimeters from her skin. Her eyes darted from dropping bodies to the open corridor that led into the station. Calls across communicators were made, shouts to security and the bridge and... well… Amelia wasn't quite sure.
All she knew for certain was that the blast doors were closing to seal off her exit. But she was too close to be stopped now.
Amelia tossed the backpack, left it behind with the stunned guards and a possibly stunned Andorian spy. She dropped the datapadd too, unwilling to let it stand between her and the answers that the Federation had.
Then she jumped between the small opening that grew ever smaller and glanced back to see the Enterprise seal itself from its ward. Maybe later she'd have time to think about the ramifications, but not now. Now... now she had to take the first right.
Amelia looked away from the ship to glance down the corridor of the space station. Her feet carried her down the long hallway, eyes searching for that Federation insignia.
She found it when she turned on her heel and Amelia couldn't help the sudden onslaught of tears when she saw the man in front of her.
Richard O'Shea.
Behind him were two other men, both wearing the globe and wreath on their breasts and carrying phaser rifles. Apparently the Federation was bracing for a confrontation.
"Thank God," Richard let out a harsh sigh of relief, stepping forward immediately to embrace her. "We were worried we wouldn't get to you in time."
Amelia only allowed herself to draw strength from him for a short moment before pulling back, wide eyes scanning his. Though her questions were too numerous to voice at once, she started with, "We? What's going on."
"I don't even know where to begin." While Richard guided her further into the space station, the two guards he'd brought with him took their place at the flanks. Amelia, still processing the entirety of the situation, stumbled to keep up with the small group while still honing in on Richard's words.
"After the warrant was issued I reached out to the Federation to get me transport to intercept the Enterprise. But I'm not the only one interested in making sure you get out of this alive. Our ship was stalled about two hours ago when a chroniton wave was detected. Two people boarded and said they were responsible for dropping you in this time-line. Honestly, I wouldn't have believed them, but our visitors from the future had some convincing evidence. Including the record of your death and some video logs you made. The Federation put in for a stall on the warrant, but the people behind this... witch-hunt aren't going to be stopped by protocol."
Amelia frowned. Not only at what he had said, but what he hadn't. "Th'eon said there was a reason I was pulled. Something about extinction."
"From what we've been told you were alive during the Eugenics war and for a great deal of time afterward. During the original time-line you went on to be part of an experiment led by the augments. You survived a modified form of the Spanish Flu, one of the deadliest viruses in our recorded history." A future she never experienced. A future she'd been saved from.
Did that timeline even matter now? Amelia shook her head, "But that's the past! It's over now."
"According to our visitors from the future, that same virus will be modified again and used to wipe out the entire Vulcan population, what remains of it anyway, and most of the Human one." Richard paused, halted in on his heel, then he stunned her by pulling her into a quick and tight embrace. A goodbye if she's ever felt one. "You won't be going back to Earth to face trial, Amelia. But you won't be staying here, either."
For a moment she could feel the same sadness that showed on Richard's face when she pulled away. A brother she'd barely had time to know was telling her that their paths were parting. "They want to take me with them, don't they? The people who brought me here."
"Yes. They think you can save them, that what kept you alive in the past will keep them alive in the future." This was it. The truth. The reason. Amelia's destiny was not to remain on the Enterprise. It wasn't to fall in love or make her way across the galaxy. It wasn't to heal the wounds made from a car crash millennia ago. It was to get sick and survive.
Survive.
She'd had plenty of practice surviving.
She might as well get a tattoo of the word and forget ever introducing herself again, Amelia Wright, the Survivor.
But Amelia was reaching the end of her rope when it came to surviving. What was it that Th'eon had told her to do? Live? Briefly, she wondered if he had known this was coming, had planted the seed she needed to thrive and remain rooted firmly where she was. So when she met his gaze she made sure that her face showed ever bit of resolve she felt. "I'm not leaving, Richard. I'm not losing anything else. Not the people I love. Not this new life."
Amelia smiled at him, what seemed like the first smile she'd shown in weeks, and reached out to take his hand.
But the contact never came. Light flared around her and shocked the smile right off of her face. Richard fell to the ground, a heavy sounding thud echoing in the corridor. The guards beside her were moving, firing back at a threat Amelia had yet to see, but could hear plainly.
"I told them that you were dangerous!" It had been months since she'd heard that voice and it was filled with just as much rage and hatred as it had been the first time.
She didn't look at Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Salo, most of her attention going to the still form of Richard. You are in combat, Ms. Wright. Do not ignore the enemy. Spock's voice echoed in her mind, a commanding presence once again. The voice wasn't wrong. Whether Richard was dead or alive, she couldn't determine that now. The guards he had brought with him were still shooting at Salo and his own men.
Her eyes adjusted to the random flares of landed shots, spots in her vision clearing so she could see down the space station corridor.
You need to move forward. Eliminate the primary threat.
Tactics. She'd never been good at those. Sure, she could solve a problem or two given the right tools, but she wasn't a tactician. Spock, however, was an exceptional one. He knew how to move through a corridor while receiving fire. He knew how to take a man down in a single move. Center of the chest. Hard. His thoughts. Her motions.
Amelia's body hurt, stings in her hands and arms as she thwarted blows and landed her own. But she didn't actually feel it. Compartmentalization. Spock was good at that too.
Maybe it was because their mind-meld was so recent that the residual presence of the Vulcan was still so strong. Whatever the reason, desperation or necessity... it had saved her twice in the span of twenty minutes.
STARDATE 2260.174
Beta Quadrant
Andorian Space Station
"What do you mean "she's gone"?" McCoy shouted over the sound of the blaring alarms as he and Jim jogged through the corridors. Where they were headed, he had no clue, but it seemed clear that his captain had a destination in mind.
"I mean she's not on the ship anymore, Bones! Hence the music you currently hear." While they continued across the ship, a few roving guards joined them to form a mobile assault team. Though no one had called it such, McCoy could tell they were prepping for a fight just by the number of phasers that surrounded them.
"You had guards on her. A tracker. You couldn't transport her as soon as the guards were found unconscious? You were supposed to protect her!" Aside from a sharp glare, Jim ignored McCoy's criticisms.
Instead, he focused on the Vulcan approaching their small team. "Commander Spock. What do we know?"
"One of the crew members assisted in her escape using a primary command code." Escape? Command code? McCoy's brow furrowed in confusion. The only two people who knew those codes were standing beside him. Spock handed over a datapadd to Jim and McCoy was able to catch enough of a glimpse to know exactly who was featured on the display.
Before Jim could ask, McCoy shouted, "How the hell would Th'eon have a command code?!"
Spock's brow lifted a touch, whether in some bizarre form of Vulcan Humor or at his tone, McCoy couldn't tell. "Because he is a member of the Federation's Counter Intelligence unit." Of course. "Essentially, he is a spy."
McCoy kept his 'I told you so' in check by focusing on his growing anger at the situation. "We'll have to deal with that later. Do we know where she is?"
"I do not know, Doctor." McCoy scowled again. Did anyone know anything?
It only took them a couple of minutes to make it to the docking bay where Th'eon was taken down. At the set of closed blast doors was an engineer working to undo some damage to the interior console. Spock immediately moved to question the Andorian. Jim left to speak with security. And McCoy… McCoy just stared at the closed docking bay doors as if they would magically open.
Beyond the barrier was Amelia. Somewhere. Running from the threat of a treason charge, maybe. Or towards something else. Maybe. He ran through a list of reasons for the next minute or so.
Sixty seconds seemed to last a lifetime, broken by the loud grinding of metal as the doors were forced open. His feet were moving before he could stop them. As he passed one of the security personnel he grabbed their phaser and set it to stun.
He wasn't certain what was louder. The sounds of shouting and footfall at his back or the fighting further up the corridor. Phaser fire rang out, blasts of light illumined the corridor. Men were calling out orders.
Jim and Spock caught up to him as he rounded the corner of the hall, the scene before him bringing them to a quick halt.
At least twenty people blocked their path, a mixture of badges, crests, and uniforms all showing various allegiances. The only person who bore none was Amelia, who stood in the center, fists flying as she took down Starfleet personnel. Behind her was a small contingency of Federation agents, facing their own threats.
It was chaos.
"Everybody get on the ground!" Jim's sudden command was followed by phase rifle fire, stun shots striking the men that separated them from Amelia Wright. It didn't seem to matter that they could have been the good guys.
McCoy figured they could just sort it out later.
As Jim's shots made their mark, the fighting came to a swift close. The Starfleet personnel laid down their phasers, the Federation group holstered theirs, and two people from the rear of the group stepped forward. And Amelia… Amelia still stood in the center, breathing hard as her head turning to look down each end of the corridor and at each group by her side.
A human man and a Vulcan woman bearing unusual Starfleet insignias pushed past the group. They barely cast a glance towards McCoy's group as most of their attention was focused on Amelia.
The Vulcan appraised her with a curt nod, then turned her direction to the man at her side. "It's her."
"Of course it is," the man replied, still staring at Amelia with a focused gaze. Then he smiled warmly at her and held out his hand. "Hello, Amelia Wright. My name is Eli Jefferson and I'm from the year 2492 and you have no idea how glad we are that you're not dead."
