Chapter 11: Whispers in a Minefield
The darkness in the room was like a veil over the face of the mourning. Small lights illuminated the faces of three people, who sat at a table, set in a triangle shape. But, the lights were not enough to reveal the full faces of them, but their noses and chins were visible, with slightly their lips being revealed, the hoods over their faces making them seem like a cult of satanic worshippers.
"I am not happy with how the war has so far been conducted," one of three people sitting around a circular table said, "The Romulans moved too fast. Along with the Dominion. They struck too swift and too soon."
"The Romulans were suppose to wait until the Dominion was prepared to attack," another one of them groaned, "The timeline has been contaminated. This war isn't suppose to happen for another fifteen years."
"The Temporal Cold War has resumed," the last of them muttered, "One of the factions has initiated the war before it was time."
The other two groaned. It had been almost seventeen years since the first phase of the Temporal Cold War had started and ended. During that time, WWII had been altered, the humans left space dock six years too early, and even at one point, the future (their present) had been destroyed by a foolish maneuver. And now, they were beginning to see the patterns of the old war flare up.
"The Confederate States of America has just won the American Civil War," the first one said, "And Columbus had been killed upon his initial landing in the Americas by the natives."
"Serak's mother didn't mate during her first Pon Farr," the second one said, "she has died and Serak was never born."
"Christopher Pike has retained command of Enterprise," the first one informed them, "and Gary Mitchell wasn't killed after gaining his God-like powers at the edge of the Galaxy. The Federation has been overthrown and a new faction, the Galactic Order has been set up in its place."
"What is the focal point?" the third one, who obviously seemed to be the leader, asked.
"Temporal coordinates 63594.4," the second one replied, "With the Federation Admiral Jean-Luc Picard making an attack on Deep Space 7."
"No battle is suppose to take place there," he growled, "Execute Plan B."
"What's our ETA to DS7?" Picard asked, standing with folded arms on the bridge, standing next to the android.
"Two hours sir," the navigation officer said, not glancing back at the Admiral.
Picard nodded. "I'll be in Ten Forward," he informed Data, then turning on his heel left the room.
"Captain," the Bridge Science officer said as the turbo lift doors closed, her voice sounding like a question, "Can you come here a moment?"
Captain Data swung his chair around until he could bring his eyes to bear on the young woman. The woman was a Trill, enjoined, having decided to forgo becoming a Host in the hopes of joining Starfleet. Ensign Menna was the only person Data had ever sponsored to the Academy, which was probably why she had been placed on Enterprise. That, or the fact that she was the only Trill to have so far been at the top of her class.
"What is it Ensign?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she said, looking at her console screen in frustration, "I can't identify it."
"Steady Ensign," the android said, rising from his sitting position, "I'll be more than happy to check it out."
The woman visibly sighed in relief, sure, she had been top of her class, but, she hated not knowing things. Data strode across the bridge to her side and glanced at the screen. Indeed, even as his billions per second calculation brain was absorbing the information, the space time continuum was going erratic. He put his finger to be console and typed in a few commands and a set of coordinates appeared on the screen.
"Intriguing," he muttered, then tapping his comm said, "Data to Admiral Picard."
There was a pause before Picard replied, "Go ahead."
"There seems to be a temporal rift forming in the turbo lift you are currently occupying," he said, "I would advise you leave the turbo lift."
"Good idea Data," Picard agreed, "I'll make an emergency stop at the next de-"
In mid sentence his voice cut off and Data after an uncomfortable second said, "Admiral…Sir, respond. Admiral, can you hear me?"
Picard stood alone in a corridor, the roof barely over his head. The corridor was metallic and grey. Lights from the bottom and top corners illuminated the hallway.
"What the crap?" he muttered, "Where am I?"
"Come now Jean-Luc," a voice behind him tisked, "Do you not remember this ship? You walked through its corridors in the Fleet Museum in Sidney."
He turned and saw a man, perhaps five foot ten tall standing there, wearing a ridiculous suit of black leather and what looked like cords running like veins over the outside of the suit. The man had close shaved black hair, and a crooked nose. But, Picard couldn't put his finger on who this man was.
"The Enterprise NX-01?" he asked and the man nodded his head.
"Very good," he smiled.
"I have no time for this ridiculous game," he snapped, "I have no time to be in a museum 150 light-years from my previous location."
"Actually," the man said, "you are only 100 light-years from your previous location, and this is no museum."
"What are you talking about?" he asked, "It's been in the mothball fleet for nearly 225 years."
"That's right," the man said, a knowing look in his eyes.
"Who are you?" Picard asked, realization finally dawning on him, "Why did you bring me here? What's the date?"
"The year is 2152," the man explained, taking a step towards Picard, "And on this particular day, Starfleet first meet the Romulans in a minefield around a planet. At this moment Lieutenant Malcolm Reed and Captain Jonathon Archer are on the hull trying to defuse a mine that had attached itself onto the hull."
Picard's eyes widened, and he said, "You're the Time-Traveler. Davey, correct?"
"Daniels," Daniels corrected.
"What are you doing messing with me?" he inquired, "If I remember my history correctly, you were going to leave Enterprise alone."
"You forget Admiral," Daniels said, holding up a finger, "I made that promise 235 years, eight ships and thirteen captains ago. That promise doesn't apply with the current Enterprise and it's Captain."
"Data's the captain," Picard corrected at which Daniels rolled his eyes, "I thought you…Temporal Agents or whatever…know the past."
"You forget. Once a captain of Enterprise," Daniels retorted, "Always a captain of Enterprise. And besides that, you're comparing us to an H.G. Wells novel. We monitor the significant events of the timeline. Not the nitty-gritty footnotes."
Picard sighed. He had no time for this. Besides, Daniels seemed like a punk kid to him. Why else would he have had the audacity to call Jean-Luc Picard, hero of a Borg Invasion, one of the most decorated Starfleet officers in history, a footnote?
"I would love to stay and chat," Picard lied, "But, I have a battle that I have to lead in less than 4 hours."
"That's what I need to talk to you about," Daniels said, "Do not go to Deep Space 7."
"Why not?" Picard asked in contempt of the man, "Will something bad happen?"
"Actually," Daniels said, quiet seriously, "It will."
"May I ask what?" Picard asked, losing patience very fast.
"Come," Daniels said, stretching out his hand, "There's a room where we can talk and we won't contaminate the timeline anymore then we absolutely have to. And I promise to explain everything to you."
Picard sighed and grabbing Daniels hand, Daniels made straight for the wall and to Picard's shock and surprise, Daniels began to pass right through it. Picard hoped Daniels knew what he was doing as he approached the wall. Picard's closed his eyes tightly until he felt the wall pull around him as he walked through.
Picard opened an eye, and seeing he was in one piece still, noticed they were in a small room with pipes and conduits running through it. If Picard's memory served correctly, Jonathon Archer and a man named Silik had fought in this small room, which was more like a junction for power conduits then a real room. Daniels let go of Picard's hand, a clear sign this was where he intended to talk. Which Picard actually didn't much care for; the room was actually pretty warm.
"Alright," Picard demanded, "What's this all about?"
"What do you know about me?" Daniels asked, "Or more specifically, what my…agency…does."
"You claim to maintain the timeline," Picard answered, "You stop it from being tampered with."
"That's what is going on," Daniels said.
"What?" Picard asked.
"You might have heard of the Temporal Cold War," Daniels said, "Where different time-traveling factions started messing with the timeline. Trying to change it to suit their own ends."
"I heard of it," he acknowledged.
"That war had many fronts," the younger man said, "and even when it came to an end, it was more of a truce then a full-fledged end-game."
"Get to the point," Picard snapped.
"The point is," Daniels said, "We have no idea how this war is going to end."
"I thought you maintained the timeline and you know these things," the Admiral snorted.
"Don't you get it?" Daniels asked, "The reason we don't know is History doesn't record a 2385 Trans-Galactic War."
Picard looked up at Daniels, for the first time interested. "Are you saying," Picard said slowly, "This war wasn't suppose to take place?"
"Not until 2411," the man said, "That war was going to be fought between several different alliances. The Borg were going to be one side, the Federation, the Klingons, the Romulans and the Cardassians were going to be on one side and the Dominion, Ferengi and Species 8472 were going to be a third side."
"Sounds serious," Picard said, "That's going to happen then?"
"Was going to," Daniels corrected, "But, this war could change everything."
"What does any of this have to do with Deep Space Seven?" Picard asked.
"We know a few things for certain," Daniels explained, "And one of them is you."
"Me?" Picard asked.
"You are the most important element of this war," Daniels explained, "We are certain that if you are ever killed, the Federation will fall. And the chances of you dying at DS7 is 88%."
"I'm flattered history values me so much," Picard said without conviction, "But, it would appear that even with me, the Federation is going to fall."
"The other thing we know," Daniels said, "is one of the factions is manipulating this war. They are manipulating the Anglarsiss…"
"Who?" Picard interrupted.
Daniels eyes widened, "I forgot. You don't know yet. But, it can't hurt can it? That is the name Species 8472 as you call them, have given to themselves. It translates as, "The Pure" in our language. Anyways, Species 8472 is manipulating the Borg and Dominion and the Federation. The Borg and the Dominion are manipulating the Romulans and the Cardassians and the Federation."
"Wait, wait," Picard said, feeling dizzy just listening to him, "How do you keep all this straight?"
"Lots of practice," Daniels said.
"You said the Federation is being manipulated by Species 8472, the Dominion and the Borg," Picard said, "How?"
"The Dominion has replaced many on the Federation Council," Daniels said, "And, most of the Admiralty has been replaced by Species 8472. The Borg are causing disruptions in the work of many liberated drones."
"How did Species 8472 infiltrate the Admiralty?" Picard asked, "I know that the shape shifters can do just about anything the f- they want. But, how did Species 8472 get in here?"
"Think about it Admiral," Daniels raised his eyebrows, "Do you really think Janeway and her crew magically just came across transwarp conduits that just happened to lead straight to Earth? You were once Borg. You know if they had such a conduit, they would have already used it to assimilate Earth by now, instead of transverse the entire length of the Federation to reach Earth. It's not efficient. And running the gauntlet between something like forty Borg cubes with an Intrepid-Class and destroying quite a few of them as they went?"
"I have always thought it very interesting," Picard muttered.
"11 years ago," Daniels said, "The Voyager crew came across Terrasphere 8, one of a dozen terraspheres built by the Anglarsiss to train their people how to live in Alpha Quadrant bodies convincingly enough to pass as true Federation citizens. After a tense few days, Janeway and her crew were invited onto the sphere. While there, their molecular structures were all scanned, and clones were created of them after they had left. These clones were made so perfectly that they have no idea they are clones, but they had implanted on their DNA certain codes that forced them to do anything that would be beneficial for Species 8472 when they decide to launch an all-out invasion of the Federation, which 8472 has decided is the greatest threat they have ever encountered.
"Admiral, it wasn't Janeway that returned from the Delta Quadrant. It was a doppelganger."
Picard raised an eyebrow. "If so," he asked, "Why was the Midas Array taken offline the very next day they arrived?"
"How else were they going to keep the real Voyager from contacting Earth and blowing their cover?" Daniels shot back.
"So," Picard rolled his eyes, "Why shouldn't I go after the Romulans?"
"If you go," Daniels said, "In your current state, every one of you will die. And if you all die, the Federation will destroy itself."
"How?" Picard snapped, slapping his hand down on his knee, startling the man, "How da-? You won't give me a good enough reason why."
"Do you think every officer in Starfleet is happy about what's happening?" Daniels put it to him, "They're not. But, they aren't organized either. It's only a matter of time before shooting breaks out."
The room seemed to darken. Picard didn't like where this was going. WHat he was talking about was conspiracy and dark plots.
"You mean civil war," he said, "The Federation has never had a civil war. Heck, there are only five recorded mutinies in the entire history of the Fleet. I don't like this type of talk. We might be able to resolve it peacefully."
"Picard," Daniels said, becoming frustrated, "Do you really think your disobeying orders will be looked on kindly? Believe me, it won't be long before the Federation starts hunting you down. Civil war is an inevitability at this point. All you can do now is choose what state of affairs the Federation will be in at the end. Believe me, none of these disgruntled commanders will rally around anyone but you. Imagine what it will be like if they don't rally."
"The Fleet would splinter into many different factions," Picard sighed.
"And then any one of your enemies could swoop in once the shattered remnants of your Fleet have stopped shooting," Daniels agreed, "And nothing could stop them. But, with you at the helm, only two Fleets would arise, and many would defect to you because of who you are."
Picard leaned back and felt as if the weight of the whole quadrant lay on his shoulders.
