The Chain Unbound
Chapter 10
"The Causal Loop Crisis"
Her time on Earth was informative than she anticipated.
It wasn't as if progress came to a halt. Being on the run, and on high alert travelling with Shryhl, left her distracted. Now on Earth, she was free to search for answers.
Lacking a degree in temporal sciences, and suspecting she didn't have another decade to pursue another doctorate, she focused on what she knew. History! Armed with the data and artifacts from her time capsule, and granted access to Starfleet and United Earth historical archives, Invigilator Mikolo made some headway into her investigation.
If nothing else, she confirmed her story was real.
First, her ancestry archives were a lie. Who was supposed to be the late and undistinguished Tharnjar th'Cargan was, the late Vice Admiral James Lionel Corrigan, the man in her causal loop. For the first few days she immersed herself in his life.
Born on a Starfleet Starship but with his citizenry attached to Earth, the late James Corrigan was a career Starfleet officer. He served as a security officer during the Dominion War, rose to security chief, then to captain his own ship during the post-Dominion War era. He would later serve as a fleet captain, than a Vice Admiral, during the Federation's 'Warring States' period of the early 25th century. He fought conflicts against the Klingon Empire, the Undine, the Borg, and the Iconians. He was a survivor of the Battle of the Jenolan Sphere, the turning point in the Iconian War which saw the bloodiest day in Starfleet history, save for the Temporal Wars and The Burn itself.
When finding a decade-long gap in Vice Admiral Corrigan's record and digging further to figure out why, Mikolo confronted her first access denied message. Not even her human companion's access could unlock the information.
She made a note of it and moved on.
She found during Vice Admiral Corrigan's long, illustrious career, he had a relationship with a Romulan, which produced a daughter, a bigger and far more decorated hero of the Iconian Wars.
That Nuhir? Subcommander Nuhir t'Stellam Tekri? Nuhir the Starborne, Savior of New Romulus, Elachi's Bane, The First Sword of the Republic? His half-Romulan daughter was one of the early Romulan Republic's greatest war heroes!
Mikolo wasn't sure if this was mind blowing or another of history's exaggerated claims. As she sensed another historical tribble hole that went nowhere and did nothing she went back to James Corrigan's biography.
He didn't just raise a future war hero. He later married into a Clan Estihi shelthreth, which also had her distant, body-swapping ancestor, Mikaiu. The shelthreth bore a son and a daughter, Marko and Milaune, who in turn continued the Estihi clan line.
A quick DNA test confirmed Mikolo's distant human ancestry. The same test detected an infusion of Vulcanoid DNA in the 26th century, and another human in the 28th. And if that wasn't absurd enough, the human doctor traced Aenar DNA back all the way to one of the founders of her clan!
Her family tree wasn't just full of alien DNA. It was never pure Andorian to begin with!
Richard Corrigan laughed at Mikolo's shock, until the doctor confirmed he was a distant cousin through James Corrigan's sister, Fiona.
After such a revelation they both needed a drink.
When sobriety set in the next morning and the sting of confirming what she once knew was wrong, she got back to her primary task.
Figuring out what to do next.
James Corrigan told her to find the planet Boreth. There they could find answers about the time crystal. Maybe there find the next interaction with the causal loop, or find a solution to safely break out of it. There was one problem. Boreath didn't exist!
The entry in every other database she queried had the same result. It was a mythical planet, the star Kahless pointed to when he claimed he would be reborn. A convenient metaphor to justify centuries of brutal expansionism, stopped the more subtle and insidious diplomatic and cultural expansionism of the Federation. That was history's narrative, taught since her first Invigilator tutors and her teachers at the University of Freehold. Real sentient behavior justified by myth and legend.
Boreath was not supposed to be real!
How does one find a planet that doesn't exist? Boreth wasn't on any astrological or planetary databases, a fact she found odd considering the myriad of star systems whose names were influenced by myth and legend, yet somehow Boreath missed every single Klingon astronomer's fancy for centuries. It struck the Invigilator as odd.
One saving grace was her time capsule, containing the supposed coordinates of the fabled planet.
Her astrological charts, and Earth's, showed nothing inside those coordinates but empty space.
As her own data was incomplete about that sector of space, she searched Earth's databases again.
Only to be locked out with another with even more access denied messages.
Whatever was there, made-up planet or not, she suspected something was at those coordinates.
It wasn't the lack of records but the overwhelming abundance of roadblocks which raised her alarms. All references removed, and anything adjacent to it was either blocked or removed as well. It was as if an algorithm sought out all references and all avenues to find it and beat her to the punch.
She tried searching the sectors outside the Eridon Nebula. Nothing. Cross referencing KDF, Starfleet, and her personal Emerald Chain exploratory database. Not a single piece of information could be found about her coordinates. So she checked ancient civilian flight records. Surely if it existed somebody warped there? Nothing!
How could a galaxy so thoroughly explored as the Milky Way have a literal void of information thirty light years across?
The effort to destroy the information was too good, and therefore too suspicious.
There was something more to those co-ordinates.
Three weeks into her investigation, and no closer to the truth about Boreth, she was about ready to fly to the coordinates herself out of sheer frustration.
Then she received a summons from the EDF to report to the Daystrom Institute.
"Finally, some progress!" The Invigilator's multiple queries to Earth's most renowned research facility must have caught notice.
It also gave her an opportunity to check on her time crystal, currently under study at the Daystrom Institute's Temporal Sciences Department. It rankled her to depends on the brightest minds of a backwater planet. It aggravated her further knowing they were poking and prodding the item possessing the potential to unravel her existence.
But they were her best chance to get some answers.
Mikolo and Richard used their personal transporters to beam to the Daystrom Institute, trading Newark's midday urban sprawl for Okinawa's pleasant, sunny morning.
The Daystrom Institute might have changed hands since the Federation's pull out, but it was still a big deal. The Invigilator felt butterflies as they entered the Institute's main doors and navigated it bright, glass lined halls to the Temporal Sciences wing. In a shining, white lab room, attended by a bookish human woman in white lab robes, her time crystal necklace was stored, hovering and suspended in a cylindrical containment unit in the center of the room.
The scientist wasn't alone. The stern Colonel Ngoye broke from observing the crystal to acknowledge Miko and Richard's presence.
At her side was a balding, weathered, middle-aged man, the kind of innocuous person one found dominating the bureaucratic class. Miko had seen many like him in Emerald Chain territory, but this one made her skin crawl in a way that seemed incompatible with his banal outward appearance.
It was the shining, ebon, mandarin-cut jacket, a symbol Emerald Chain citizens recognized as synonymous with oppression. He further confirmed his affiliation when the human male flashed a badge from his wallet, a stylized delta shield, two thirds of its surface polished to a beetle-shell black shine, and one third left rough and matte.
"It's about time I get to meet the young lady whose raised such a fuss within our department." He extended his hand to shake. "Special Agent Arturo Graves, EDF Intelligence."
"Section 31." Mikolo reluctantly took his hand to shake, adding, "V'draysh Blackshirts."
Special Agent Graves had a puzzled look. "I'm not too familiar with the actions of Section 31 outside Earth's borders, so the label you give me lacks a certain context."
"That's a real shame. And here I thought you're aware of your organization's history of usurpation, false flag operations, and warcrimes." Miko grimaced.
Graves let out a sigh. "As aware as I am about your job description, which is, as far as I can tell has more to do with political re-education than actual academics? Still, I don't deny that our organization has a checkered past. If it's any reassurance, this particular branch predates the Federation Charter and works only in the interests of the United Earth Defence Force."
Miko pursed her lips, laying thick her opinion of the Special Agent and his barbs in the process. "Where I'm from your name is used to insult people with a lack of integrity. So no, it does not."
"Then take reassurance knowing your unique situation protects you from our usual response. Anyone else with the sheer amount of red flagged search terms you tripped would earn a visit from two of our agents and an indefinite trip to one of our black sites."
"Ah, there's the V'draysh I've heard so much about. Monitoring my activity are you? Any more personal rights and freedoms of mine you want to violate?"
"No worse than what's rumored in your sector of space. Other than that? Nothing else, but we'll let you know."
"Smartass." Lieutenant Corrigan muttered, earning a piercing look from Colonel Ngoye.
And a crease of a smile from the scientist pretending not to pay attention.
Special Agent Graves ignored Richard's insult. He continued, "Beside the point. Those same special circumstances keeping Invigilator sh'Estihi safe from extrajudicial measures are the reason why we've come in the spirit of co-operation to assist you. While she was digging through archives, we were investigating our options."
"We seriously considered destroying the time crystal despite the causal loop." Colonel Ngoye said. "You owe Professor Mishra and Special Agent Graves a debt of gratitude, Invigilator."
Miko made a mental note to thank her fellow academic. The others, symbols of an aggressive power who, from her perspective, oppressed her people and put her through her own fresh, personal hell, she hoped to avoid expressing gratitude entirely.
It was, to Miko's relief, nice to see someone else who was also uncomfortable being here. There was a shyness to the Professor, wanting to burst out in interjection in a start and stop jerkiness when a more assertive personality took the floor. She was older than the Invigilator by only a few cycles. She was somewhere between Graves/Corrigan and Ngoye in skin tone, and what must have been luxuriant black hair was tied behind her head in a reserved bun. And no matter the world, white robes followed academia, the Professor's draped over a bodysuit in the tight and angular fashion Earth favored.
She reached out to shake Mikolo's hand. "Doctor Toay Mishra. I'm the resident Temporal Sciences specialist. How are you today?"
"Besides my existence being constantly under threat and meeting a literal villain out of history?" Mikolo joked while shaking Mishra's hand. "All things considered, not bad."
Mishra spoke, boldness trickling in. "I understand your trepidation. Both the Earth government and Section 31 has been bothering me nonstop about your situation. It's taken all my negotiation skills to persuade everyone not to take a more reactionary course, unless they want to irreversibly damage our timeline."
Mikolo felt a rapport strike with the Earth scientist while they shared a mirthful smile. "That's good. My ancestor warned me about this, and believe me, I'm very fond of my continued existence. How bad is it?"
"How can I say it lightly?" Mishra paused to think. "Your situation is majorly inconvenient."
Miko soured. "Why do I get the feeling you're softening the blow?"
"You would not be wrong." Professor Mishra activated a holographic display. A three-dimensional graph projected, filling up the room with lines and points of light.
The strands of light flared out and winded their way like organic roots through soil. There were portions where the roots were cut or prematurely ended, many in clusters that showed a distinct pattern. When she looked at the timeline bar on the x axis, she noticed the cut strands were clustered in historically important parts of the timeline, at their most damaged during the heights of the Temporal Wars.
She was looking at a simplified temporal timeline, and at its root, somewhere in the early 25th century, was a point of light with a profile picture of her ancestor, Mikaiu sh'Estihi.
A blue light traced itself from Mikaiu's point of light, winding its way through the roots of time, until it ended in the 32nd century, at the point of light showing her profile picture.
Then the blue trace line skipped in a slow, wide arc back to Mikaiu, while a red line made the same motion from Mikaiu to Mikolo, hitting later in Mikaiu's timeline and her own. The pattern repeated itself again.
The two confirmed body swaps.
Then three more grey lines jumped back and forth, going straight back to Mikaiu and Mikolo's portrait, but marked with a question mark on their timeline.
Two more swaps that had yet to come.
The last line, highlighted in purple, went from Mikolo's portrait, but with a question mark, and back to Mikaiu's portrait.
At nearly the root of the timeline.
A point obscured not only a multitude of frayed timelines, but a white static that obscured the timeline altogether.
Professor Mishra explained, "We confirmed the stardates of your two previous causal loop encounters from your interrogation records. And thanks to some unsealed records from Section 31, we were able to access the temporal roadmap for your ancestor and cross-reference it with any notable events in the timeline. And unfortunately, we found one." She pointed to the static around Mikaiu's portrait. "Here. A major temporal event. Your last stop, the one that ties the causal loop together."
"The one my ancestor warned me about." Mikolo uttered. "The point where the time crystal was created."
"Yes, apparently the first instance of an artificially creation of a time crystal." Mishra said. "And it took place during a chroniton explosion in the early 25th century. Until now we didn't know its source, only it's location. A space navigation hazard seven light years in a spherical pattern outside Sherman's Planet. It was apparently known for its intense gravitational shears. But that was a lie, according to Section 31."
Graves interjected, "What you're really looking at was a section of space completely frozen in time for twelve years, starting at the point where you make your last jump. And it matches because we know why that area of space was frozen. We called it The Kindjal Incident."
Mikolo was left flatfooted. "I never heard of it."
"It was kept indefinitely classified, that's why. Your ancestors were on board the USS Kindjal during a major temporal accident."
Professor Mishra swiped away the temporal timeline map, catching the point of light next to the temporal incident and inflating it. The room showed a sector of space with a lone spaceship, one Mikolo recognized as a Starfleet vessel, an Obena class exploratory cruiser. In her side was a large hole through the engineering section.
Graves said, "The USS Kindjal was testing a primitive chroniton torpedo. The warhead prematurely detonated, killing 24 crew and trapping the ship in temporally disrupted space for twelve years."
"Like a bug in amber." Professor Mishra added. "And we never knew the source of the temporal damage in that area, until Agent Graves so kindly gave us access."
"We had it classified." Graves said. "And it was sealed up with the rest of the Temporal War records. And here we thought our information was comprehensive, until your time crystal showed up. Seems your ancestors put our tendency to keep secrets to shame."
The Invigilator shot Agent Graves a disapproving look. "I'm sure they had their reasons, such as ensuring the causal loop wasn't disrupted on their end. Even back then harboring items with temporal properties would land everyone involved in a lot of trouble."
"So for better or worse, we're stuck running this through." Lieutenant Corrigan said. "Fuckin' wonderful."
Miko quipped, "Having my free agency taken from me is the ongoing theme of my life, so you can imagine how I feel about it." She delivered a withering glare at Agent Graves and Colonel Ngoye, neither seemingly moved. "Okay, we've established it's in everyone's best interests to help me. Can I get my Boreth info and my time crystal back so I can be on my way?"
"Go ahead." Colonel Ngoye ordered. "Tell her."
Mishra stepped up. "Computer, display stellar map, Beta Quadrant, old Klingon Empire."
The timeline tree disappeared. The room above flooded with tiny points of light, each representing a star. Each star, when selected, displayed their name, as Mikolo found out when she touched one of the points of light with her finger.
"Computer, access Naked Eye Stellar Observation Post. Redirect orientation to... right ascension 122.134 degrees by declination 18.825 degrees, and display side by side." The stars shifted over to the left side of the room, then another starfield filled the right, matching it in movement and position. "Your coordinates please."
Mikolo accessed her holoPADD, brought out the Boreth co-ordinates, and threw the light representation of a pin or marker into the air. The markers flew, split into two, and settled in the starfield.
The starfield on the left had its marker settle on empty space.
While the starfield on the right landed on a fuzzy, large point of light.
"The Naked Eye Stellar Observation Post utilizes a space telescope, collecting visible, infrared, and ultraviolet light frequencies. It's as analog as you can get."
Ngoye muttered, "Amazing that Section 31 was able to hide the existence of an entire star system for so long."
"To be fair," Agent Graves said, "it's become easier once people stopped caring. My predecessor had the difficult task of blotting a planet out of existence while it was fresh in people's memories. We only deflect the interests of the occasional conspiracy theorist. Or historian, as it were."
"Well it seems you missed a spot, Special Agent."
Agent Graves swept the starfields away, returning the lights to their holobuffers. "Unlike most conspiracy theorists she has practical knowledge of her subject and the proper training and mindset to analyze it. Despite beliefs to the contrary, my agency is fallible. We've been destroyed and reconstructed at least a half dozen times since our existence. That doesn't stop us from being proactive and intervening when needed. That's why we're here."
"To tell us an imaginary planet exists." Corrigan drolled.
"To tell you more than that." Mishra interrupted. "If you're facing a causal loop crisis, you'll need to know what obstacles you face on Boreth. If I may?"
Agent Graves stepped aside as Mishra tapped her badge to summon her holoPADD. The room lit up once again, this time displaying the Boreth sector. Several taps on her screen and what appeared to be a series of wavy, topographical lines, shaded from a cool blue to a dark, angry red, superimposed themselves over the starfield.
"The Boreth sector considered one of the most dangerous sections of navigable space to fly in the Beta Quadrant. Gravitational shears, spacial anomalies, and fractures in space and time. So far we don't know of anybody who's successfully made it to Boreth in over two centuries."
"And there's a reason for that." Agent Graves chimed in. "You're not just looking at rough space, ladies and gentlemen. You're seeing one of the most contested pieces of real estate in the Temporal Wars. Between all the temporal disruptor bombs detonated in the sector, and the multiple attempts from hostile powers to erase Boreth from existence, the entire sector became the conflict's most ravaged hot zone."
Mikolo gasped, realization coming to her. "Klingon legends talked about the Monks of Boreth and their incredible abilities. Fantastical stuff, like reclaiming souls from sto'vo'kor and placing them into the bodies of the living. But one claim was they were masters of space and time. They were prophets who could see into the past and the future. We historians though it was the usual hyperbole that comes with studying Klingon history. But in light of what I experienced, and what you're telling me, there's truth to their stories."
"There was." Graves confessed. "We've known since the 23rd century the Monks of Boreth possessed time crystals."
"And this would make Boreth a target."
"Correct. Now you see why we had to deny it's existence?"
Mikolo wasn't satisfied. "Still, the idea you can hide a planet's existence, even from historical record, it's ridiculous!"
"So was destroying all temporal materials and technology, but we tried it anyways." Agent Graves said. "And, as Ngoye said, we missed a spot. Some spots are buried in obscurity, like your time crystal. Others can't be erased, like the damage done to the Boreth Sector. That's why we follow our motto. 'Vigilo Confido'."
"Always vigilant." Mikolo repeated, after a delay from her universal translator.
"Correct. That, and it's much easier to obfuscate than to flat-out deny, then let the apathy of years take care of the rest. Not that it's perfect. Sometimes all it takes is a young historian to dig up old skeletons."
"Apologies for being so inconvenient." Mikolo said, sarcastically.
"Just be grateful we're willing to help. Daystrom's data and Section 31 data on Boreth are at your disposal. But only under one condition."
Miko grumbled. She hated conditions! "What is it?"
"We must ensure your time crystal's destruction after you resolve your causal loop. We'd feel better if one of our agents joined you on your expedition."
"What?! NO!"
"I agree with Special Agent Graves, Invigilator." Colonel Ngoye stepped in. "We can't allow you to leave with a dangerous temporal artifact in your possession without our interests being represented. I do not, however, agree that it has to be a Section 31 agent. Lieutenant Corrigan has already developed a rapport with Invigilator sh'Estihi. I believe his presence is sufficient."
"I must protest!" Agent Graves said. "You can't expect us to leave the fate of the galaxy in the hands of a... her!"
"And neither is it acceptable to leave it in your hands. Therefore we must co-found a..."
Mikolo cleared her throat, demanding the attention of the room.
"Excuse me, but don't I have a say in all this?"
Ngoye, Graves, and Mishra's astonishment was so strong that Mikolo felt she spontaneously mutated before their eyes.
"Seriously?" Graves muttered. "You're a foreigner with no experience asking us to hand over information and material that endanger the universe and expect us not to establish any oversight? We need assurances this crisis will be resolved without complication, and that the time crystal will be disposed of in a permanent manner. Do you think your assurances to go at it alone mean anything to us?"
She felt the heat rise in her. Deep breaths controlled the roiling rage, she folded her antennae to the top of her head. In measured words obvious in their forced calm, she declared, "You want assurances? I can't give you any. But I can give you what you actually need, and that's trust. You can trust me because I have more at stake in this than you."
Lieutenant Corrigan shrugged and said, "She's got a point. What are we going to do? Tell her she's not allowed to save the universe?"
Ngoye grumbled, "Aren't you supposed to be on our side, Lieutenant?"
"Oh yes, Sir. Definitely. Which is why I'm saying, after assessment and observation these past few weeks, that we can trust her. And we should."
"And what's to prevent her from taking the time crystal and disappearing with it after the crisis is over?"
"Me." Mikolo declared. "As much as I hate the idea of destroying history, I'm not blind to the implications of keeping this crystal around. I'll destroy it."
"That's not good enough." Graves said.
"But Lieutenant Corrigan is." Ngoye interrupted. "He'll be representing Earth interests during this mission."
But Graves dug in his heels. "I'd rather have a Section 31 agent on the job. That way we can be assured."
"That will be unnecessary, Agent. We already have Lieutenant Corrigan. That will be sufficient."
"Unless, of course, you want to transfer me over." Corrigan suggested.
Graves was aghast. "You have neither the operational experience nor the moral flexibility needed to be a Section 31 agent, Lieutenant."
"Yet I have a ship, she has the causal loop, and you all have the crystal. The only way to break this deadlock is for everyone to give and take a little." Corrigan looked directly at Mikolo. "Including you. Fact is, you can't expect us to stand passively back while the timeline's at stake. And we certainly can't tell you not to do your mission. It would be like cutting our noses off to spite our faces. So what do you all say?" He took a look around the room, at the seething Special Agent Graves, at the grim and perpetually displeased Ngoye, and at the more passive Mishra, and the wound-up, excitable twitching of Mikolo's antennae.
Richard said, cheerfully. "Trust?"
"You know," Miko's eyes and antennae sullenly locked on the concrete steps below her feet. "Normally I'd be happy with your intervention. But considering what I had to say about my personal freedom, I can't help but feel you undermined my argument."
Richard, seating himself himself on the concrete step next to her, shrugged, more preoccupied with the wallet in his hand. "It worked, didn't it?"
Miko continued, "And I'd normally be okay with that. But did you do it for me, or did you do it to get a promotion?"
Richard's eyes were on the shiny and matte ebon badge which recently replaced his EDF military police shield. While the historian from Andoria let the resentment of the meeting linger over her like a cloud, Richard was feeling incredibly pleased with himself. "Oh that? Just icing on the cake."
"I'm afraid my UT didn't quite catch that. Was that an idiom?"
"Yeah, it is. But look, I'd been just as happy without the fancy new badge and rise in pay grade. It was the easiest way to break the deadlock. And hey, I'm still your ally."
"Yeah, until the time comes when I decide whether or not to destroy a one-of-a-kind artifact, in which case you'll even rob me of that choice. I mean... I'm still a historian! I fled my home moon to save my family's heirlooms, not destroy them! And having them destroyed erases a piece of history. You're asking me to be the antithesis of my ideals."
"It was going to come down to that anyways and you know it." Richard countered. "Besides, doesn't the existence of a timeline altering object sort of make a mockery of your job?"
"Yes! I mean, yes! But, you know. Gods be damned!" She threw her arms up in the air. "It's still compromising my principles! Doesn't anyone have any consideration for that?"
"Well sure, but only to a point. Principles are good, but sometimes you have to make a decision based on the reality of the situation."
Dejected, Miko sighed deeply. "I get it, but does it have to come at the cost of my own free will?"
"I get that too." Richard said, grimly. "But really? It's about personal pride, and at what point do we indulge it before we start recklessly endangering everyone and everything around us?"
Miko's head and antennae sunk lower, as if she thought that couldn't be possible.
"Do not stand before the wind." She muttered.
"Kahless for the grand prize." Richard patted Mikolo on the back. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rob you of anything. I was just taking the initiative."
"I know." Mikolo's disposition began to shine brighter. "Through all this you're literally the only person who's looked out for me."
"Heh, I try. Besides, I know you'll do what's right. Maybe you'll destroy it. Maybe not. Maybe you'll find another solution. Either way, you got my support."
"Wait, you just told them you'd..."
"You've shown me your head's molecularly welded on. That's more than the people in the funny black suits can claim! You'll do the right thing, even if it's in a way nobody expects. And I'll support you. All the way. Warp or chunk."
"Warp or chunk? Another idiom?"
"You know, kind of an EDF saying. Travel with you at high warp, and stick with you even when the inertial dampners fail."
"Oh. Ride or die. I got you."
"Yeah, that. Anyways, I'd be a pretty lousy at being the only Terran you trust if I didn't."
"You got that right."
"Let me prove it." Richard explained the question with an unusual sheepishness. "I can't change what happened to you or how you're being played, but I can at least introduce you to Terrans who aren't manipulative assholes. So... let me take you out for some fun tonight. Meet some cool people, have a few drinks, and just have fun. My treat."
Meeting more Terrans and partying didn't immediately appeal to Mikolo. She was tired, she was annoyed, and she burned herself out on work over the past few weeks. But looking up at Richard's earnest face, she felt her reluctance melt away.
Mikolo relented. "I could use a drink. Okay, one night off. Then we're back to restoring my free agency."
"This is it!"
A short detour back to the Last Dance had duo ready for her first night on the town. Miko remained mildly amused by Richard's insistence on yet another variation of the denim, leather jacket, and shortsleeved shirt formula (only it was see-through, showing off a copious amount of chest hair in contrast to his perfectly smooth head, and mercifully protecting those same curly chest hairs from the leather harness he wore over top). Without guidance to where they were going, as Richard insisted it was a surprise, she found a pattern close to her club wear, a poncho-like dress which shimmered from alabaster to seafoam whenever it moved for was hit by intense light. Hastily applied graphite shaded eyeliner and seafoam eyeshadow barely dried before Richard's insisted the duo transport to their destination.
Standing in front of the three-storey building she thought might be one of New York's ancient brownstones, she thought it a strange venue, until Richard guided her to the street corner, where a similarly bricked building with tinted black windows read, in golden font under a rainbow of lamps, 'The Kodiak Club'.
Then there was the multi-colored and symbol be-decked flag hanging over a watchful bouncer whom dwarfed Richard once they presented their identification. The bouncer handed each a dull white bracelet and motioned for the two to come in.
Her antennae rose as she had what the Tamarians referred to as a 'Temba, his eyes open' moment. "So wait, this is a...?"
"Affirmative." Richard mumbled.
"You're not doing this for my benefit, are you?"
"Well... kinda, but it's my usual hangout, and I kinda wanted to go one more time before we blasted off into the great beyond, y'know?"
"Ahhh, so that means you're..."
"Yup."
"Wait." Miko halted, and said, out of amusement, "Is that why I'm not your type?"
"Afraid so. Why? You disappointed?"
"Not really. Considering the last few days it's kind of a relief." Miko let her smile spread. "I'd rather have a friend right now anyways. Is it okay, me being here? I'm pretty conventional"
"Don't worry about it." Richard scoffed. "Ain't no one gonna give you attention you don't want, and if someone does they'll be dealing with me."
"That's a relief. Shall we?"
Richard half-heartedly chuckled. "Not so fast, honey. Something we gotta do first." He brought up his holopadd and tapped the bracelet.
Miko watched Richard's bracelet activate, settling on a rainbow of flashing colors. "Is that a I-Spec tag?"
Richard replied, "We call it a Spectrum Bracelet. Use your holopad to input identity and preferences. Then we can go in."
Miko saw different iterations of Identity Spectrum Display tags before. Andoria had its own simplified version, partly because the marital status indicator was a shelthreth ring on the antenna, making that function unnecessary, and also due to a recent push to more normative, traditional standards. What she saw on Freecloud during her college days, which showed nearly every different iteration under the gender and identity spectrum, made Andoria's seem stodgy and full of gaps.
Her impression of a Terran I-Spec was it was similar to Freecloud's system, save for a few color code and light pattern differences. The interface was, thankfully, a simple drop-down menu of different preferences and statuses.
Biological was easy enough. She selected Andorian, shen female.
Psychological was more involved. There were no automatic fill functions for cis-normative (she guessed this culture wasn't one to make assumptions, at least in such social settings), so she selected what would be cis-normative for her. Pansexual, no gender preference, limited polygamous arrangements.
Then there was the relationship status selections. Single. Looking for relationship? No. Looking for sex? Definitely not!
Looking for friendship? That option gave Miko the longest pause. She opted for yes, saved the settings, and slipped on the bracelet, the movement linking it to her holopadd and sending its commands to display a swirling pattern of different shaded blues, different patterns of light, infrared patterns for different light spectrum visible species, and for visually impaired, low-frequency sounds that were readily identifiable and unobtrusive towards the sounds of the club.
In case someone didn't take the hint she checked the 'creep alarm' function, just in case. It was there, on a small bump on the bracelet, one touch and everyone around her would know somebody's stepped over her boundaries.
I-Specs really helped cut down on the confusion of inter-species interactions in nightclubs.
To test, she waved her holopadd towards Richard's bracelet, a colorful swirl of rainbows interspersed with browns and blacks. The I-Spec guide brought up his preferences. It was as Richard said he was, biologically and mentally gender aligned (he choose to keep the optional privacy mode for biological identification off), and with a preference for male genitalia, regardless of who possesses it.
At first she wondered how she missed it.
Then again, it was easy to miss hints when she had her own quest to fulfill and her own traumas to process, so she forgave herself for missing the finer points of her new Terran friend.
The idea of Richard being a friend hit her like an oncoming shuttle. A big, gruff Regulator (no, Inspector, she had to adjust to Terran terms and their implied subtleties) turned gregarious and just when out of the confines of his duties, a side he didn't hesitate to show when navigating Mikolo to the bar.
Richard introduced Miko to a group of his friends, similarly burly and flashy human males with their own subtly different yet similar I-Specs. At first, the group was surprised to see her rather plainly cis-normative displayed bracelet, but once Richard explained she was friend and a visitor from 'out of town', the group welcomed her without question.
She learned a few details about Richard's friends, aside from their rather complicated dating histories (and a few salacious rumors about those who couldn't make it). They were from all walks of life, with their own spin on their similarly shared group dynamic. Richard might have been the toughest of them all, but each shared a working class ethos, sympathetic empathy, and varying degrees of physical brawn.
It allowed her to relax for the first time in days, enough to risk some of the local alcohol. What the humans called Andorian Ale left a lot to be desired. She stuck with their local beer, a Synthale-like drink humans managed not to screw up. It was enough social lubrication to put everyone at ease. Soon, she wasn't just an alien with a funny foreign accent and nothing in common. She was one of the group, the kid sister with a lot of little and big brothers, all with vows to protect her from any unwanted, intrusive brute.
She really was, as Richard claimed, safe as houses. Soon she would be one of the gang.
There was a catch to this unofficial initiation into their little social group. A time-honored ritual involving a fair degree of public humiliation.
Karaoke. Without a universal translator.
The joke was on the group, as Miko's days of investigation into the time capsule exposed her to a lot of classic Terran music.
When Richard picked the song he flashed Miko a knowing smirk, figuring he found a great tune to ingratiate her further to the group.
He had no idea how well it worked when Miko sang it in perfect, earth-accented Terran English.
"I said, here she come now singin' Mony, Mony!"
Then extend the microphone to the group as she shouted.
"HEY MOTHERFUCKER, GET LAID, GET FUCKED!"
At first there was shock. Pure flabbergasted disbelief. Did that really come out of a foreigner's mouth? How did she know this secret? The secret lyrics of a centuries old song?
"Shoot 'em up, come on, Mony, Mony!"
She thrust the microphone towards the crowd. This time, they readied an enthusiastic response.
"HEY MOTHERFUCKER, GET LAID, GET FUCKED!"
It was the most fun she had utilizing her Historian Post-Doctorate.
And it certainly helped her bond with Richard's friends for the rest of the night.
While Richard was feeling bold enough to take on Judas Priest's 'Turbo Lover' in an Alternative Bar in New York City, a Colonel Ndoye, in a high-rise apartment in Johannesburg, relaxed to Paul Simon while reading through her dispatches. Evening was ready to set. She felt relief that her day was almost over.
Until a hail from Earth Defense Force headquarters broke the peace.
Since the incident with the Starfleet ship, Ndoye had been kept busy by the EDF and the United Earth government. She was also rumored to be next in line for a promotion to General. The last few months put many eyes on her, and much expectation.
For better or worse she was the EDF's go-to officer for dealing with foreign incursions. All eyes were on her, and it made for more intrusions into her personal time.
Why did interesting things always happen just before dinner? She hoped it was quick as she tapped her tricom. "Ndoye here."
=/\="Sir, we've got two separate ships on our sensors. Different approaches, but both on course directly towards the Earth Defense Perimeter."=/\=
Her annoyance was reflexive, and so Terran. Earth didn't exactly roll out the welcome mat the past several decades. Now it appeared anyone was dropping in for a visit. It filled her with exasperation and dread.
"Who are they, and what do they want now?" Ndoye asked.
=/\="Sir, both vessels are requesting permission to enter Earth's orbit. They appear to be diplomatic couriers. Each has presented diplomatic credentials."=/\=
Ndoye liked the intrusion even less. Diplomatic credentials. Diplomats. Coming to the doorstep of a hermit planet. She felt it didn't bode well. "That tells me what they want, but not who they are. Out with it."
The communications officer at EDF headquarters hesitated to answer. =/\="Sir, one vessel identified itself as Emerald Chain."=/\=
She stood up in alarm, dinner plans well forgotten. Emerald Chain, like their last visitors. She didn't like it already. "And the other?"
=/\="The other is from Ni'var."=/\=
She knew enough about the Emerald Chain, and about the Ni'var, to know what a visit from both represented, especially in light of a recent visit from a refugee, currently on Earth, with a fantastical story.
A potential diplomatic incident.
"I'll be right there. Ndoye out."