Night Dagger, 2266
Countdown to invasion: Three months
The tiny bird-of-prey that Meren had named Night Dagger flew across the Klingon border and into Federation space. Not much larger than a shuttlecraft, it was a private vessel belonging to the House of Inigan and apart from the two brothers, only three other people were on board – an engineer, a navigator and the scientist who had designed the prototype time-dilator that had been installed in the tiny ship.
Aware of the danger involved in travelling so far into enemy territory, Meren had ordered the ship cloaked as soon as it crossed the border. Much as he would enjoy a fight, Night Dagger was too small to be a match for a Federation starship and their mission was too important for them to risk detection.
Small Night Dagger might be, but it was also fast and manoeuvrable, and it did not take long to reach its destination – a quiet spot, well off the commercial space lanes, where they could test out the prototype without being disturbed.
As the tiny ship was pushed to its maximum speed, the crew were making the final preparations to engage the time dilation device. When the scientist, a rather small, portly Klingon named Gre'taq finally indicated that everything was ready, Meren gave the order, and the device was activated.
Flying at incredible speed, Night Dagger began to shake violently as the time dilation field formed about it, forcing everyone on board to hang on tight to whatever console was nearest to them. The shaking increased until it was almost unbearable and then with a suddenness that seemed almost shocking, everything went still as with a shower of sparks the lights went out.
The bridge did not remain dark for long. Emergency lighting came on almost immediately, illuminating everything in a deep reddish glow which cast eerie shadows on the consoles.
"Damage report!" Krang snapped.
The engineer was already fiddling about with the systems in an attempt to find out what had gone wrong. "Minor engine damage," he reported after a moment. "It looks as though the conduits couldn't handle the power requirements of the prototype."
"Can you fix it?" The question came from Meren.
"Yes, my lord," the engineer answered confidently. "We should have no problem getting back to our own time, but the return journey will probably blow the conduits again."
"But you'll be able to fix them again?" At the engineer's nod, Meren said thoughtfully, "So, that just leaves the question of when are we?"
"It appears, sir, that we have gone forward in time, rather than back," the scientist reported, carefully studying the data in front of him as he spoke. "I believe the Science Institute have not calibrated the device as well as they thought. The g'dayt idiots had it connected up backwards! It will be necessary to realign the…"
"Yes, yes!" Meren interrupted, impatient as always with the little scientist's rambling. "You can discuss that with the institute when we return." He would have said more, but he was interrupted in his turn by his younger brother.
"Meren, we're being hailed by a Federation starship." Krang's voice sounded strained. "You'd better look at this."
Everyone on board the Night Dagger turned to look, only to be stunned into silence, staring at the screen in shock and even a little awe. Since when had the Federation had anything even remotely resembling that? The starship floating serenely in front of them was bigger than anything they had ever seen. Its shape was similar to that of the ships they were familiar with, but its lines were sleeker and everything about it screamed speed, manoeuvrability and sheer power.
Meren was the first to recover. "What in Gre'thor's name is that?" he snapped, his voice betraying the tension he felt. "Get me an ID on that ship."
The order proved superfluous as a voice, speaking Federation Standard, came crackling over the radio. Gre'taq immediately went to the communications console and began to tweak the system, bringing it back to full capacity and clearing up the message.
"… Captain Edward Hunter of the USS Ulysses. Identify yourself."
"The Ulysses?" Krang was already pulling up data on his console. "Klingon Intelligence has no record of any starship with that name." As he spoke, he initiated a passive scan, designed to gain as much information about the other vessel as possible without being detected.
"Interesting," Meren commented. "Put this Captain Hunter on screen. I want a good look at the interior of that ship."
The little scientist obeyed and the picture on the screen changed, the exterior of the ship giving way to a view of what had to be the bridge of the Ulysses. The man standing in the front appeared to be a fairly ordinary Terran in a red and black uniform that none of the Klingons had ever seen before. What was visible of the bridge behind him was also unfamiliar – an enormous room, brightly lit and with wide open spaces, a large semi-circular console in the centre with three chairs in front of it. The centre of the three chairs, evidently the captain's, was unoccupied.
The Federation captain stared back at the Klingons. "Our scans show that you have sustained some damage to your engines." His tone was polite and friendly as he spoke. "Do you require assistance?"
Meren hesitated for a moment before answering. If this ship decided to fire on them, there would be no contest. Just one well-placed shot would blow his little Night Dagger out of existence. He was surprised that the ship had not already done so - the Federation and the Klingons were enemies, and this far into Federation space he could hardly blame a navigational error. Nevertheless, he decided to bluff it out. "The damage is minor. My engineer will be able to carry out the repairs without assistance."
Captain Hunter nodded. "Well, we are on our way to Starbase 24," he said cheerfully. "You are welcome to put in there for some R&R if you have the time. There's a good Klingon restaurant there. If you make it, give me a call and we'll share a bottle of bloodwine."
Somehow Meren was able to hide his surprise. A Klingon restaurant on a Federation base? He knew they had travelled into the future but even so… had things really changed so much?
"I regret that will not be possible," he said evasively. "Maybe some other time. Night Dagger out." Closing down the communication, he turned and snapped at his engineer. "Well, what are you waiting for. Get those engines back online and get us back to Qo'noS - and to our own time period!"
USS Ulysses, 2368
Captain Hunter frowned as he watched the tiny bird-of-prey go to warp. "Is it just me," he asked his bridge crew, "or did that encounter seem a little… odd?"
"Where do you want me to start?" his first officer, asked rhetorically, speaking in a crisp English accent that denoted him as coming from the south of that country. "I've never seen a bird-of-prey quite like that one before. And the crew… for starters, I'm no expert on Klingon fashion, but their clothing was... well, not contemporary. And their attitude… I don't know… they seemed a bit freaked out by us although they did a pretty good job of hiding it, but they're in our space, why would they be surprised or worried by meeting a Starfleet vessel?"
"He didn't give his name either," his counsellor butted in. "Which was odd considering how polite he was, otherwise - and it should be noted, Captain, that Klingons aren't generally known for their politeness."
"Lieutenant Sobek, run a trace on that vessel," Hunter instructed his security chief, "He called it Night Dagger, see what you can find out for me."
"Already on it, Captain," the Vulcan responded calmly, his hands flying across his console as he worked. A minute or two later, he looked up, his face apparently expressionless but to those who knew him well, just the faintest hint of a frown was present. "Night Dagger - Imperial Runabout class, registered to the Inigan shipyards…" He stopped and that faint frown became a little more apparent. "Year of registry, 2260."
"Well for a ship that's over a hundred old, it's in good nick," the first officer quipped uneasily. "Captain, you know I'm not one for going on about feelings, but still… Nothing about this feels quite right."
"I agree," Hunter said tensely.
"There's more," Sobek informed them. "According to Klingon records, the Inigan shipyards were confiscated by the High Council in 2268 after the family fell into disgrace and… defected to the Federation." As he spoke, his hands continued to move across his console as he looked for and obtained further information. "I just ran a search on the family and found some images. You're going to want to see these, Captain."
"Put them on screen," Hunter said at once.
The Vulcan complied and after a few seconds, the view of space on the main screen was replaced by two images, side by side. The one on the left portrayed a Klingon male wearing an old-style Defence Force uniform. The second showed a male, obviously closely related to the first, wearing a black uniform that they were unfamiliar with. Both men had been present on the little ship they had just encountered.
"These images were recorded two years before the discommendation of the Inigan family," Sobek said quietly, answering the captain's unspoken question.
"Over a hundred years… and neither of those two men have aged in all that time," Hunter observed grimly. He turned to his communications officer, "Ensign, open a Priority-One secure channel to Starfleet Command. We need the Department of Temporal Investigation. We've got a time incursion on our hands."
2268, USS Enterprise NCC-1701
"I'm bored!" Captain Kirk only just stopped himself from yawning. It was almost the end of yet another long, boring shift after an uneventful month of patrolling the Klingon Neutral Zone. "I wish something interesting would happen."
"There is an Earth saying, Captain," Spock said dryly, "that you should be careful what you wish for."
About to add to the banter, Uhura was distracted by red flashing lights on her comm. panel. All thoughts of joking gone, she turned in her seat. "Captain, we are receiving a Priority-One emergency transmission from Starfleet Command."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at his captain but said nothing. He didn't need to. Kirk got the message loud and clear.
Later, Kirk would admit to having momentarily wondered if Uhura was winding him up, but her expression but a glance in her direction immediately disabused him of that idea. She was deadly serious, and he responded accordingly. "On screen."
The imposing features of Admiral Minnoh, the current head of Starfleet Intelligence, appeared on the forward viewscreen and alongside him, another face that was not familiar to Kirk.
The admiral did not pull any punches. "Kirk, this is Agent George Nerskin of the Department of Temporal Investigation. You may not be aware of them, but as a commanding officer, you are aware of the Tempus Directive. I need you to listen to him carefully and with no interruptions and then follow his orders to the letter. Am I understood?"
Kirk's brow furrowed. He did know of the DTI, even if it had been by a different name. But whatever that organisation called themselves, it was never good news when they contacted him It usually meant he was in trouble for something, and his immediate reaction had been to wonder what he had done to bring him to the attention of the temporal investigators this time
But then Admiral Minnoh had invoked the Tempus Directive and all thoughts of misdemeanours had gone out the nearest airlock. Referring to a necessary time travel situation, it was a directive that Kirk had never expected to encounter, and he was not aware of any occasion that had ever warranted its use. As of now, any and all other directives and priorities were null and void, up to and including the Prime Directive.
"Yes, Admiral. I understand. What do you require from me, Agent Nerskin?"
"Thank you for your cooperation, Admiral." The agent, having been introduced sufficiently, turned his attention to Enterprise's captain. "Kirk, we need you to undertake an emergency temporal mission on our behalf…" Quickly and efficiently, he explained the situation as he knew it.
Captain Kirk stared at the temporal agent in bemusement. "You've logged twelve complaints against me for alleged temporal violations and now you want me to time travel?"
"You can gloat later," the agent snapped. "And it's thirteen complaints – and counting! We really don't have time to argue… and no time jokes please, this is a matter of life or death. Believe me, Kirk, if it weren't, we wouldn't be asking this of you." He glanced at a complicated looking timepiece attached to his wrist before continuing, "You have exactly two minutes forty-three seconds to slingshot round the nearest sun and get yourself into the required time period. If you don't make it, there will be no Federation, no Starfleet, no Enterprise and probably no James T. Kirk. So, get out there, do your thing and save the universe again."
"Understood," Kirk said immediately, completely serious now and focussed on the task ahead. He glanced at his first officer, ready to give orders but noting that Spock was already busy programming the ship's computer. Likewise, at the helm, Sulu appeared to be charting a course. The rest of his bridge crew were also working. None of them had waited for orders. He felt a moment of pride; his team were the best any captain could ever hope to work with! "What can we expect to find?"
"We aren't sure," the agent admitted. "For the moment, all we can tell you is the Klingons are involved; Further information will be made available as and when possible, via the Guardian of Forever. We recommend you avoid going anywhere near the USA or Asia. In that time-period we can't risk you coming up against Khan and the Augments. If you do come across them, stay out of their way; they are not the enemy in this."
"Understood," Kirk said again. He half turned towards his communications officer. "Uhura, do we have the files yet?"
"Stand by, Captain," she replied crisply, "… eighty-five… ninety… one hundred percent. We have them. Running decryption process now and sending across to your console."
A bleep from his console indicated receipt of the DTI files. "Received. Thank you, Uhura. Sulu, get the ship underway, maximum warp. We have no time to lose."
The temporal agent gave a sharp nod of satisfaction. The warning from the Ulysses had been appreciated but unnecessary. A massive Category-One temporal flux was in progress, and he hadn't been exaggerating when he'd warned Kirk it could be the end of everything. If Enterprise did not get out of the current timeline and into the past before the flux settled, it would be too late, and the new timeline would be irrevocably locked in place.
Kirk was a maverick and it went against the grain to involve him in this, but the information from the Guardian of Forever, as the great, semi-sentient stone circle on planet Gateway was known, indicated that his presence was necessary. If anyone could prevent this disaster, it would be him. "Good luck, Enterprise. Don't let us down."