DTI Headquarters, Greenwich, London
15th September 2383 - A Thursday
Satisfied that Nerskin would get the required information to the USS Enterprise NCC-1701, the various agents had left the shielded meeting room and returned to their own time zones and their own offices. A category 1 temporal flux was serious, possibly one of the most serious threats that any of them had dealt with in their entire careers. All of them had work to do and none of them would be going off duty any time soon.
For Gariff Lucsly, home was the late twenty-fourth century. Glancing at the chronograph strapped to his wrist, he nodded in satisfaction. No changes had occurred while he had been out of the timeline and for the moment at least, all was as it should be.
Even so, his mood was sombre. The meeting had left Lucsly rattled on many levels. He had never been one to settle for uncertainties and the outcome of the fight between the two Klingons was about as uncertain as it got. Surely, they could not be so evenly matched that after a hundred reruns of the fight, it was still fifty/fifty. Scowling in concentration, he set the temporal computer to rerun the scenario again, returning a couple of hours later… two hours, three minutes and fifty-two seconds to be precise… to check the results.
"Whatcha got?" Dulmur asked, approaching and looking over his shoulder at the screen. "Oh… you're still stuck on that. What's the result this time?"
Lucsly's scowl became even more fierce. "Still exactly fifty/fifty. Two hundred re-runs and still no clear victor. It's annoying."
"Run it one more time," Dulmur suggested.
"What's the point?" his partner asked pessimistically. "Another hundred times isn't going to change anything."
"No… I meant one more time," Dulmur clarified. "One final toss of the coin – the tie breaker, so to speak. Other than that, we'll have to wait and see."
"Once?" Lucsly scoffed. "That's ridiculous." Nevertheless, he programmed the request into the computer. By now, both men had seen this fight far too many times but by unspoken agreement, both of them kept their eyes on the screen. One last time, the battle played out coming to its conclusion… and this time…
Surprised, Lucsly turned to look at his fellow agent. "Well that's unexpected. I didn't see that coming."
USS Enterprise NCC-1701,
Monday 24th January 1994
When Uhura called him to the bridge, Kirk had been studying the data that had just come through from Gateway. It had been ingenious, he thought, of the DTI to use the Guardian of Forever as a way of passing messages through time. Certainly, the information they had sent had been interesting if not completely helpful. He had always been a man of action and 'wait and see' was not an order than he liked in the slightest. Even so, it made sense. The more they interfered with events, the more chance there was of altering the timeline.
"Report, Uhura. What have we got?"
"We are being hailed by a Vulcan ship," Uhura responded. "The Vesaya, under the command of Captain Sevek. Transmission is audio only."
Kirk frowned. That was not good news. With the arrival of the Vulcans, the mission had just become even more complicated than it already was. "Very well. Open a channel." He took a deep breath. "Vesaya, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise."
"All the evidence suggests that you do not belong here, Enterprise. Explain yourself."
"We are cultural observers on a peaceful mission," Kirk said, thinking fast in an attempt to come up with something plausible. "As, I imagine are you."
"Your ship appears to be Terran," Sevek persisted. "Our scans show that a significant proportion of your crew is Terran. Yet this world does not have space travel. Again, we request that you explain your presence here."
The resulting conversation had been a difficult one. Vulcans from this time period were apparently as arrogant as their twenty-third century counterparts, demanding to know who they were and where and when the Enterprise had come from. When he had answered the hail, Kirk had hoped to avoid the subject of time travel, but it had very quickly become evident that the Vulcans were aware that Enterprise was not from this time period. More, they were concerned that Enterprise was here to change the flow of time in some way. They were not completely wrong there, Kirk reflected wryly.
In the end, realising that an extended radio conversation left both ships at risk of discovery by the Klingons, something that was beneficial to neither the Enterprise nor the Vesaya, Kirk had invited the Vulcan captain to come on board Enterprise to continue the discussion. Sevek had immediately accepted and Kirk was now on his way to the shuttlebay to meet him.
Exiting from the turbolift, Kirk strode down the corridor and entered the shuttlebay where he found Spock and Scotty talking quietly together as they waited for him.
"Enterprise, our shuttle is approaching and is ready to dock."
Kirk nodded at Scotty, wordlessly giving the signal and with a nod of acknowledgement, Scotty activated the controls that would open the great shuttlebay doors to space. Alarms sounded and slowly, the door slid open, allowing the waiting officers a view of the oncoming Vulcan shuttle framed against the cold blackness of space. The shuttle came closer, slipping through the protective forcefield and into the shuttlebay where a last-minute adjustment of its thrusters brought it down to land with just the slightest bump.
Inexplicably nervous, Kirk found himself holding his breath as the door to the shuttle slid open and two Vulcan males stepped out onto the deck of the shuttlebay. Glancing at his first officer, he noted that Spock was holding up his hand, fingers spread in the taal, the traditional Vulcan greeting. Immediately he followed suit, holding up his own hand and with some difficulty forming the gesture.
It appeared to be the right thing to do. The older of the two Vulcans inclined his head and returned the greeting. "I am Captain Sevek and this is my first officer, Commander Solkar."
"Welcome on board the Enterprise," Kirk said in response. "As I am sure you have guessed, I am Captain James T. Kirk. This is my first officer, Commander Spock and…" About to introduce Scotty, Kirk stopped, realising that he no longer had their attention. Both visitors were staring at Spock, their faces apparently expressionless, but Kirk had become adept at reading the micro signals Spock gave off and these two were no different. Something had left them both surprised and concerned and glancing at Spock, who was staring back at them with an equally shocked expression, he saw the problem. The two first officers were very alike and if they were not related in some way, he would be very surprised.
Kirk frowned as he remembered the history he had been taught at school. In just under seventy years, Vulcans and humans would make official first contact when the T'Plana Hath, under the command of Captain Solkar, landed in Bozeman, Montana. Every child knew the story and he'd visited the T'Plana Hath museum more than once. Solkar had gone on to become the ambassador to Earth, a role that was currently held by his grandson, Sarek. The young Vulcan who had just been introduced to them was almost certainly Spock's great grandfather.
Kirk swore under his breath, wondering how much this was going to complicate an already awkward situation. "I am sure you have many questions to ask," he said, recovering himself. "If you would follow me to the observation lounge, we can discuss the situation there."
The courtroom, Qo'noS, 2375
Late morning, Trial Day 4
Less than an hour passed before the guards who had been instructed to find the witness and bring him before the court returned, escorting an elderly man across the courtroom to stand before the judge. Richly dressed in an expensive looking tunic, he was white haired and obviously approaching the end of his life, but despite his advanced age he carried himself with a pride that spoke of military service.
Passing the witness stand the old man paused, taking a moment to study the two women standing there, one Terran and the other Klingon. He recognised both of them even though it had been many years – a century maybe, give or take a couple of years – since he had last seen them. Unlike them, he had gone through time the natural way… day by day, year by year.
The Klingon woman… her name was Marla, he remembered, Lieutenant Marla as she had been then… had aged a little, although not as much as he had thanks to seventy-five years in cryogenic suspension. He knew her story; the recovery of the IKS T'Ong had been all over the news casts a decade or so ago.
The human woman on the other hand had not changed at all although she'd let her hair grow long in the Klingon style. He was not so certain of how her journey through time had been accomplished but having been part of the so-called Earth Project, he had reason to know that time travel was possible.
Giving both women a respectful nod, he moved into the centre of the courtroom before turning to look at the Klingon who stood in the dock. The boss, as Krang had always been known amongst the troops, had not changed in the slightest. He hadn't quite believed it when he had been informed that Krang was on trial for the role he had played in the failure of the Earth Project.
When the transport ship had left Earth, it had been stocked with food for the almost two-week journey back to Qo'noS. Those supplies had included a herd of pigs to provide fresh meat and as one of the most junior bekks, he'd been assigned to their care. It had been a dirty, smelly job but he'd developed an appreciation for the animals. At the end of the trip, three pigs had been still alive, two females and a male. In the chaos that had ensued during the unloading of the ship, no-one had quite known what to do with the surviving livestock and he had quietly taken possession of them. It had not been strictly legal to bring alien livestock onto the homeworld, but once the authorities had tasted the bacon brought from Earth, they had, with the help of a few bribes, turned a blind eye.
Resigning from the Defence Force, he'd taken the animals and gone home. In hindsight that had been the best decision he had ever made, since the vast majority of officers and survivors had immediately been transferred to the front lines of the various wars the empire was fighting and very few had survived for long.
To say that his wife had been surprised to see him arrive home with the three pigs was a complete understatement. Nevertheless, when she heard his idea, she'd thrown all her energy into backing him and together they had built 'The Three Pigs' as they'd named their new enterprise, into a thriving business – and he was well aware of the significance of the name having found it in the book of Terran fairy stories he'd brought back for his children. With some amusement, he had deemed it appropriate
It had been hard going especially in the early years as he had learned how to look after the pigs, how to breed them, slaughter them and cure their meat. Even more importantly, he'd learned how to market the product. Klingons had a strong cultural bias against overcooked food and persuading them to try something that was at its best when burned to a crisp had not been easy.
He'd been lucky though. His home was in the little village owned by the Inigan estate and the new owners – Kaghren and Karg of House Khemara – having their own herd of targs, had not only allowed him to use their facilities (albeit taking great care to keep the alien pigs separate from their own targs) but had provided him with generous grants.
With time, effort and lots of hard work, his business had grown and expanded. He'd taken on more workers, eventually becoming a major employer and one day, he and his wife had realised that, thanks to the three pigs he had named his business for, they were rich.
Year later, when his Line-Lady had adopted a son named Meren – a son who bore a distinct resemblance to one of the missing Inigan brothers - he had said nothing. The secrets of the Inigan family were not his to tell, even when Meren died and his brother, Krang, became line-lord… the same Krang whom he had risked everything to help after the failure of the Earth Project. He'd been lucky, he reflected again, and so had Marla and Kay'vin. They had been so junior that their treason had been overlooked. It had been Koreth, as the most senior remaining officer, who had paid the price.
He had not known for certain why the project had ended so suddenly, but he'd had his suspicions that all was not as it seemed. Glad to be returning home to his wife and to the two small sons who barely remembered their father after two years of absence, he hadn't much cared. Besides, and he scowled at the memory, the entire premise of the invasion had been dishonourable. As a child, he'd listened to his father and uncles telling wild stories of their service in the Defence Force, stories that had inspired him to sign up as soon as he was legally old enough. Except… He'd signed up to fight for the honour and glory of the Klingon Empire, not for the short-sighted greed of the High Council. There had been no honour or glory in what had happened on Earth and if the boss had taken things into his own hands then good for him!
"You will identify yourself"
The judge's voice cut into his reverie and offering Krang the same nod of respect he had given the two women, the old man moved on, coming to stop in front of the judge's table. His demeanour every inch that of the soldier he had once been, he came to attention and saluted, right fist thumping against left breast. "Bekk Grenn reporting as ordered."
Yes, I know... The Three Pigs... What can I say except Grenn has a sense of humour...
As before, I still don't own Enterprise or its crew. Likewise, Dulmur, Lucsly and the Vulcans don't belong to me either.