Chapter 3
Captain Benito Ramirez of the Earth Starship Intrepid was vexed and irritated. His ship had been due to embark on a scheduled patrol run to Proxima Colony, which would take a fortnight of travel at his ship's max cruise speed of Warp 3, but he had received an unexpected change of orders by Admiral Forrest – who was coming aboard with an unnamed guest to embark on special mission within the Solar System.
His tightly knit crew of thirty eight grumbled about the vagueness of those orders, but he quickly made sure they canned that attitude, and made arrangements for the Admiral's arrival plus one. Benito stood waiting with his XO, Commander Nickolas Golovkin, by the starboard airlock for the command Shuttlepod to dock.
"Any ideas what the brass has up its sleeve, Commander?"
"Sorry, Capitain," Golovkin shook his head; his Russian accent wasn't as pronounced as it could've been. "I'm as surprised as you at this change of plans. Thought it's clear that it's no ordinary mission; an Admiral doesn't just suddenly board a fleet ship on a whim."
"Yes and add the fact that the orders were heavily encrypted text only communication, and I think we've got an SI mission."
Golovkin barely managed to hold a groan. Starfleet Intelligence had requisitioned the Intrepid on a number of occasions before, mostly to deploy various satellites that not even Captain Ramirez had the clearance to know what purpose it was built for, and the occasional rendezvous with Earth Cargo freighters to pick up returning Agents from the various nearby worlds Earth had interests in or kept a general eye on.
These missions always left the crew with weeks of rampant speculation on what the agent could have been doing or found out…not to mention Golovkin could swear he had once seen an SI agent quickly hide a pair of very well made Vulcan ears on one occasion he had been sent to collect her from her temporary quarters, when they had to make rendezvous with an EC ship on its way to Vulcan.
There was a slight thump that both men could feel through the deck plating, indicating the shuttle docking. Golovkin headed over to the airlock control panel and began the pressurization procedure of the docking sleeve. The master indicator light turned from red to green, and he triggered the outer door…a few moments passed, and the inner door opened.
Admiral Maxwell Forrest was a tall, imposing man, with balding blonde hair and a serious expression etched on his face. The dark blue Admiral uniform with tie and four white cuff rings made him even more the picture perfect visage of a flag officer. Accompanying him was a man slightly shorter than Forrest with cropped grey hair, wearing an all black unadorned leather uniform of sorts that Benito had never seen before.
"Permission to come aboard?" The Admiral asked.
"Granted Admiral Forrest, welcome."
"It's good to see you again, Ramirez. I'm sorry for delaying your mission, but this couldn't wait. Oh, this is Mr Harris from SI; he will be joining us for this little trip."
"Welcome aboard, Mr Harris." Benito was unsurprised that he only received a simple neutral nod in return from the SI Agent.
"We don't have time for all the formalities, Captain, so we'll get straight to the mission," Forrest abruptly began to walk and led the way into the corridors of the ship. "You are to proceed to Mercury at the best impulse speed you can manage, masking your ion trail with a technique Mr Harris will share with your Chief Engineer. You will also secure your subspace com system completely, no com emissions whatsoever."
"Understood, sir," Benito nodded, though he was somewhat alarmed at the precautions, not to mention the destination. What was out there at Mercury that warranted such secrecy? Sol 1 hardly merited any scientific interest, it was the smallest planet of the Terran system, heavily cratered like Luna with regions of smooth plains, and no substantial atmosphere, with surface temperatures ranging from -183 C to as high as 427 Celsius. As such it wasn't prime real estate, due to its proximity to the Sun.
When the four men entered the small Bridge of Intrepid, which only had seating for the Helmsman, Captain, and Tactical Officer…the others had to stand at wall stations, he settled into his chair and rapidly set about giving the necessary orders. Harris departed for Engineering without a word afterwards, and Benito was relieved; too many SI agents considered their 'naval' counterparts as a glorified travel service, at least Harris respected the chain of command.
"Captain, with your permission, I must address the Bridge crew." Forrest half-asked, half-ordered. It was one of the iffy parts of command on ships for centuries. A flag officer couldn't just command any ship he stepped on – that was the Captain's job. Ramirez was Master and Commander of Intrepid and could technically tell Forrest to take a flying leap out the airlock if he didn't agree with them - although the situation would have to be extreme to do so. Admirals gave strategic orders, not tactical ones.
"Very well, Admiral," Ramirez gestured his acceptance.
"Thank you, Captain." Forrest turned and made sure he caught the attention of everyone. "I'm sure you're all curious about this unexpected detour, but I must order you all not to breathe a word of what you will see to anyone. This is a level Omega classified mission. Meaning you are not even to dream about what you will see in the next hour. Anyone found betraying a word of this to even their mothers, will be not only be cashiered out of Starfleet, but will find themselves in new lifelong UE sponsored accommodations in New Zealand."
Benito shook himself out of his shock, whatever this was; Starfleet was taking it damn seriously to be threatening its own members with lifetime imprisonment in a penal colony if they disobeyed their orders to remain silent.
"Carry out your orders, Captain."
"Yes, sir." Ramirez nodded. "Helm, break orbit, and get us underway at full Impulse."
"Aye sir," his Chief Helmswoman, Ensign Lynette Fulton, responded and her hands danced on the Helm controls.
Intrepid turned in a crisp manoeuvre to a course that would have the ship powering its way over the North Pole and towards the inner planets and the Sun. It would be a short journey of only twenty minutes at Full Impulse, but Ramirez was too busy studying his Engineering feed, rather fascinated at what his engines were doing to mask its own ion trail.
Harris had returned to the Bridge fifteen minutes into the short journey and stood like a statue next to Forrest. Finally…
"Entering standard orbit of Mercury, Captain." Fulton reported.
"Admiral?" Benito queried.
"Mr Harris."
The mysterious SI agent pulled a small device from an inner pocket of his black uniform and handed it to the Admiral. Forrest flipped open a decidedly non-regulation issue communicator that chirped for a brief moment to show it had opened a channel.
"This is Forrest, to Odyssey, are you out there?"
Benito frowned…there was no ship in Starfleet called Odyssey…before he could ponder it further, a male voice emitted from the strange communicator.
"We're here, actually been here for over a week, you certainly took your time…"
"It wasn't easy to arrange for our rendezvous to go unnoticed, not to mention the other elements of our arrangement," Forrest countered.
"Yes, I understand, it must have taken some doing to put one over those Vulcans, given their level of presence in Sol. So is our contact ready?"
"He's standing right next to me."
"To your left or right?"
"Right."
"Okay, we've got a lock on him. Stand by."
"I hope to speak to you soon in person."
"So do I, there's a lot to discuss." The mysterious voice of the com device said. Forrest nodded at Harris, who only nodded stoically back and seemed to visibly brace himself. It started as a strong hum, almost sounding like a drum that had gonged, Benito flinched as white light suddenly seemed to sprout from Harris' chest, that in an eyeblink spread to the rest of his body. The SI agent's form seemed to compress and then vanished into nothing with a near musical crescendo.
"We have him safe and sound, Admiral, see you soon."
Benito shook off his amazement only to realize that Harris must have had been beamed somewhere, but that was the fastest and unusual Matter-Energy transport he had ever witnessed. But where had he gone? There were no ships or space stations out here…was there?
"Forrest out." The Admiral flipped the communicator shut and pocketed it. "Our mission is done, Captain. Head back to Earth, I'll take the shuttle back down to San Francisco myself. You may resume your previous mission as soon as I undock from Intrepid."
Benito only hesitated a few moments before complying. He wondered what sort of clandestine op was going on, that Starfleet felt it couldn't even involve the Vulcans. He sighed and resigned himself to endure another two long weeks of speculation from his crew on the mysterious detour to Mercury.
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Odyssey Engineering Control
"Are you certain, Colonel?" Hank Landry felt as if his stomach had dropped to the floor and a hand was squeezing his heart.
"I've been running simulation after simulation, and referencing every scrap of research the Asgard has ever done on the subject of a different quantum realities, over the past week. I've even referenced the partial Alteran database we have on board, since they were the ones who built that Quantum Mirror Daniel used to travel to that alternate reality." Sam shook her head and wiped away a stray tear from her eyes. "Even if we build a Drive that replicates that effect, the Time aspect means we will return to a point in 2152 – everyone we knew would be dead and buried, if Earth still exists and hasn't been destroyed or converted by the Ori. There's also no conceivable way for us to navigate to the correct reality…since we're talking about an infinite number of variations and divergences."
"So we're never getting back?" Cam said flatly. "Not even with all this fancy tech."
"Even the Asgard had limitations, Cam." She suddenly gave a rue half-smile. "Though on the bright side, there will be Universes where this didn't happen to us."
"Well, speaking as someone who's spoken to over a hundred different versions of myself, that is not us. Our Universe will just consider us MIA, or KIA."
"So we're actually going to have to live out the rest of our lives in this place?" Vala frowned at them. "No, second chances, no miracle rescues or technology…we're stuck, for sure."
"I'm afraid so," nodded Sam, looking miserable now. "It's my…"
"No!" Hank snapped at her sternly. "It's not your fault, the responsibility belongs to the future you, and from what you've told me I doubt even she could've predicted this eventuality."
"Teal'C to Engineering."
"Go ahead," Landry tapped his com earpiece.
"A vessel is approaching our position from Earth."
"We're on our way." He stared at the others. "Seems Forrest finally managed it."
"Are we sure this is wise?" Daniel spoke up worriedly.
"It's best to maintain absolute secrecy, if we want to blend in to this Earth," Hank said unhappily. "After studying the Vulcan and Starfleet databases on the races in this region, we'd not want word of Odyssey to get out in an uncontrolled manner."
They walked up to the Bridge, and took their stations.
"Bring the ship up on Tactical."
The screen to the left of the Bridge windows, changed from its default display of a ship diagnostic to show an image of a hundred and fifty meter ship – with a half-saucer shape, small secondary hull, and nacelles swept slightly upward to half in line with the saucer. It definitely looked like a predecessor to the Enterprise, in terms of design elements at least. It was the most numerous ship class in Starfleet, the NZ, in addition to their sleek Warp Fighters, NF class.
"They're armed similarly to Enterprise, phase cannons and torpedoes." Carter reported. "They're entering orbit…and we're being hailed."
Landry's conversation with Forrest occurred, whilst Sam aligned and triggered the transporter which left a rather startled Mr Harris, from a deeply covert section of Starfleet Intelligence on the Bridge.
"We have him safe and sound, Admiral, see you soon." Hank said, eyeing the agent with an assessing stare.
'Forrest out.' The channel shut down.
"Welcome to the Odyssey, Mr Harris."
"It's a distinct pleasure to be here," the man gave a lopsided grin, eyeing the Bridge and then turned to look out the window at the view of Mercury. "You were within twenty kilometres of Intrepid and they never knew; Cloaking sure comes in handy."
"That it does, Mr Harris."
"Is there some place where we can talk?"
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Enterprise, 110 LY from Earth, Terran System Designation Decrux
Main Engineering
"We're a few minutes out from the Deuterium colony, Captain."
"Prepare to take us out of Warp," Jon tapped on the com. He turned to his friend. "So?"
"We've run five full power tests on the shields, everything's in the green, even that modification that will effectively turn it into a Cloak ran perfectly in simulation; however, it's a one or the other thing – shield or cloak, not both and our hull polarization has less power to work with now, so we've lost some effectiveness on it." Trip shrugged.
Jon nodded, well it couldn't be helped and polarized plating could only take you so far. "Our other systems?"
"We still have to run live fire tests on our new triphase cannons, and anti-matter torpedoes, but the simulations show us hitting our targets every time."
"Then let's hope no one is stupid enough to pick a fight with us."
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Jon accompanied Trip and T'Pol down to the surface in Shuttlepod One, scans from orbit had shown that the colony was mainly a semi-arid world; therefore they were wearing Starfleet desert fatigues, whilst T'Pol donned a white version of her Vulcan uniform which also had desert conditions in mind.
The colony itself was actually quite small. Scans from orbit had shown barely a hundred lifesigns, and now up close, Jon could see a town of rather ramshackle prefab dwellings arranged in a radial pattern around a central street, with large girders laid down between them. From the amount of activity, Jon could clearly see that they had been spotted by the colonists. He guided the Shuttlepod to a smooth landing on the outskirts of the town.
Jon and Trip had barely stepped a few meters from the shuttlepod before they were confronted by two of the alien colonists; they were humanoid, but with clear differences in facial appearance and rather smaller than either men. Their clothes were basic and rough looking, and smeared with dust and various synthetic fluids – no doubt from the machinery they used to refine deuterium.
"My name is Captain Archer from the starship Enterprise. We tried to hail you, but there was no response." The UTs in their pockets had been programmed by the Kreetassans after the recent diplomatic visit their homeworld – so Hoshi was not necessary for this trading excursion.
"Our communications are down." The alien replied shortly.
"That must make it difficult to do business. A Kreetassan merchant told us this was a deuterium facility." Jon pointed out as T'Pol made her exit from the Shuttlepod.
"He was correct." The alien conceded with reluctance.
"Our ship took some damage few weeks ago. We lost most of our reserves." Trip explained, hoping it would perhaps smooth things over. It didn't work.
"I'm sorry, but we can't help you. Two of our pumps are offline. You'll have to return later in the season."
"Our supply will be gone in less than two weeks." Jon explained. He could certainly, if all else failed, ask Admiral Forrest to send Odyssey to rendezvous and top up Enterprise' tanks, but it was a simple situation and he didn't want Odyssey to bail him out except in dire emergencies. They could also create molecular deuterium using the UC, but it would only use up more power, hence more deuterium, at a faster rate than before….and it would give diminishing returns.
"There's nothing we can do."
"Are you certain? You seem to have a large inventory. Our sensors showed over eighty thousand litres." T'Pol pointed out stoically.
"You scanned our tanks?" The alien clearly took offence at this.
"I apologise, but when you didn't respond to our hails, we had to make sure this was indeed a deuterium refinery and that we weren't misled. You sure you couldn't spare a few hundred litres?"
"We're holding that for someone else. Come back at the end of the season. I'm sure we'll be able to accommodate you." That was the yellow haired alien's final word on the subject and he began to walk away.
His associate however, with dark hair, looked thoughtfully at them before saying, "Do you have any experience repairing extraction pumps?"
"Not specifically, but I could grab some tools and take a look." Trip piped up helpfully, sensing the opening. Deuterium for repairs, Jon could live with that.
"We get those pumps operating, we can make our quota." The second alien pointed out to his dismissive colleague.
"It seems that there might be an opportunity for us to help each other," Jon smiled.
"Follow me," the first alien conceded, clearly seeing the logic in the proposal.
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When Trip reached the shuttlepod to get his tools, he did not expect to find its pilot's seat occupied. A male alien child was at the helm, Trip judged him barely seven years old, at least by human standards. The kid was making rather cute shooting noises and pretending to pilot the pod. Trip lost his amusement quickly when he realized the damage the kid could do if he mucked around pressing buttons. He bent into the pod hatch and triggered the impulse startup – the computer bleeped warnings against doing that whilst on the ground – but Trip shut it down immediately.
The kid gasped and he pulled his hands away from the controls.
"What are you doing in my chair?" Trip asked sternly.
The kid whirled around and his frightened expression was apparent on his alien features.
"I didn't touch anything. I just like to look inside the ships that come here."
"You should have asked."
"You might have said no," the kid countered stubbornly.
"Well, what do you think?" Trip gestured to the pod interior.
"Well, it's a little small and your thruster controls are hard to reach," the kid pronounced as if he was the expert on all things to do with ships.
"Maybe you need longer arms." Trip grinned now.
"How fast can it go?" the kid asked eagerly.
"She's designed for point oh six of light speed, but, I've been able to squeeze a little more out of her."
"You're a pilot?"
"Engineer. Commander Trip Tucker."
"Q'ell." The kid pointed at himself.
"Nice to meet you."
"Could you teach me how to fly it? I can drive the crawler that we use to move our drill rigs."
"Tell you what. I'll be heading back up to the ship later. You can come along, if it's all right with your folks. I'll give you a tour." Trip said as he grabbed his tool belt and kit from the pod storage locker.
"Really?" Q'ell looked like he was about to get a trip to Disneyland for the first time.
"Come along."
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Jon had imagined he would have to barter with alien cultures for necessities when he set out with Enterprise on its exploratory mission, but he had not imagined driving this kind of hard bargain. Yes, his ship had a Universal Constructor now, thanks to Odyssey and their extra-galactic cousins, but that just turned Enterprise into a ship that valued its energy supplies, instead of its material stores.
Tessic, the leader of the colony, was a clear no-nonsense person. He was curt and abrupt, but from the existence Jon saw they had to eke out, he didn't blame the alien for his attitude.
"Two power cells?" Tessic shook his head. "We need six."
"We can't spare that many. Maybe three." Jon proposed.
"Do you have any idea how much labour it takes to refine a litre of deuterium?" Tessic reposed.
"Actually, no. I'd enjoy seeing how your facility works." Jon grinned disarmingly. Tessic clearly wasn't affected or he didn't understand the facial expression.
"We have three months of good weather, Captain. Three months to pump all the deuterium we can before the winter. We don't have time to give tours. Five power cells for two hundred litres. I can't do any better."
"Our medical stores are running low." E'lis suggested to Tessic, she was closest thing the colony had to a doctor.
"Four power cells and whatever medical supplies we can spare." Jon leaped on the opportunity immediately.
"All right." Tessic grumbled. "But only if you can repair our pumps."
"Commander Tucker and his team will do the best they can." Jon resolved to kick Trip in the ass if he couldn't pull it off, but he was confident in his friend and Chief Engineer. Trip hadn't yet met a piece of machinery he couldn't master; since he had with instructions provided to Jon by the Temporal Agent Daniels, built a Sensor Beacon centuries in advance of current technology that had allowed Enterprise to see through Suliban Cloaking.
"I expect you to leave orbit in two days. If the pumps are working, you'll leave with the deuterium. If not, you'll leave without it. Are we agreed?"
Jon frowned at that odd condition. Was Tessic expecting someone? Jon resolved to mull over that later, but he sensed that this was as good as the deal would get. "Agreed."
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Enterprise Sickbay
Doctor Phlox looked with amusement as E'lis stared warily at the tank that contained the Edosian sea star. To Phlox's own sensibilities, the alien was slightly too…reserved. She only spoke when necessary…perhaps it was a social characteristic of their species; perhaps they had no similar concept of human 'small talk'.
"It's yours, if you'd like it." Phlox grinned hugely.
"I wouldn't know what to feed it." E'lis rubbed her prominent forehead ridges, perhaps in a subconscious gesture of nervousness.
"Her needs are modest. A nutrient broth very three or four days. Less often when she's working." Phlox explained easily.
"Working?"
"She'll ingest a little blood while she's healing an injured artery."
"Thank you, but I'll just take some vascular adhesive." The alien shook her head, clearly not liking the idea of using the seastar.
"Try this, instead." Phlox reached over and deposited the pistol like medical device directly into her hand.
"An auto-suture," E'lis said wonderingly, clearly taken aback.
"I'm surprised you don't have one," Phlox stated, wondering what a doctor from a full blown refining facility was doing without one. Did they not come properly prepared to this world?
"This is a very expensive piece of equipment. I can't." E'lis tried to decline.
"Nonsense. Please." Phlox insisted, pushing the device into the large duffel bag E'lis had squeezed all the other medical supplies into. Speaking of which, her choice of supplies was rather odd. "I had no idea processing deuterium was such a dangerous business."
"It can be." E'lis said flatly. Phlox didn't need his six degrees in psychology and inter-species psychology to interpret that she was very uncomfortable talking in this direction.
"I've only heard of hexatriol being used to treat serious plasma burns," Phlox probed wonderingly.
"Our equipment is getting rather old, we're still saving up to purchase replacements, in the meantime things…can get a little dangerous," E'lis explained.
"I hope you won't need it. Is there something wrong?" Phlox asked, seeing what he thought was some reluctance on her face.
"No. I'd better get back." She seemingly shook herself and firmly turned around picking up the large duffel bag.
"Of course." Phlox said amiably.
"Thank you again." She disappeared through the large hermetically sealed glassed double autodoors of Sickbay. Phlox had heard of the demand that Enterprise could not remain here for longer than two days, coupled with this; he could only conclude that there was something not right with this colony.
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Jon walked with his first officer under the blazing sun of Decrux. T'Pol seemed perfectly at ease in the scorching weather, in fact, she seemed almost to be 'invigorated' by it – he had never been there, but knew that Vulcan was a harsh desert world. To Jon's eyes this was semi-arid at best, so perhaps she thought of this as he would think of a pleasant temperate countryside.
His musing were interrupted by a banging of the door on one of the prefab structures… it was almost loose on its hinges, and had been pushed closed by a gust of wind. That was another thing that was troubling him - on closer inspection the settlement looked to be almost on the verge of falling apart.
"You've been to other colonies that trade refined deuterium, haven't you?"
"Several," T'Pol confirmed.
"Are they all this rustic?"
"Not usually."
"Their equipment's falling apart. Half these structures look like they're about to collapse. Phlox tells me they don't even have basic medical supplies. Starships need deuterium; therefore, you'd think these people would be better off."
"We're here to trade with them, not judge their living conditions." T'Pol countered.
"Then why do they need us to finish fixing their pumps in two days? What's the hurry?"
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Enterprise Bridge
Travis Mayweather, dutifully keeping Enterprise in a stable orbit, frowned as his sensor feed beeped a warning at him.
"Lieutenant, a ship just dropped out of warp. Six hundred thousand kilometres and closing."
Lt Reed was in command, since the top three officers were down on the planet, though he always kept his seat at the Tactical station. The Lieutenant was a firm believer that only the Captain sat in the Big Chair.
"I see her," he confirmed.
Travis stared at the visual sensors focused on the thing – it looked like a blend between a cargo ship and a warship, it had modules slung under its main neck, but had a green hull and geometries that only an alien ship could possess. It was lumbering its way towards orbit at slightly less than a quarter impulse.
"It's probably more deuterium customers," Hoshi reasoned from her own station.
"Yes, that may be," confirmed Lt Reed, "I've cross-referenced the design to the Vulcan database…it a D5 tanker variant."
"Klingons," Travis declared grimly. "What are they armed with, sir?"
"Two fore and aft mid-range yield particle cannons only, you can relax Ensign, they were no match for us even before our recent upgrades," Reed explained. "And we can run rings around them, if their current pace is any indication."
Beep, beep, beep.
"We've just been noticed." Hoshi reported.
Another alarm sounded.
"Energy surge. They're charging their weapons! I'm raising our shields…they're up. Battle Stations!" Reed exclaimed in baffled and frustrated manner. Travis shared it; surely the Klingons realized they were badly outgunned. Lights on the Bridge dimmed and red lights began flashing in response to the Lieutenants order, which he had called over shipwide.
"Archer to Enterprise."
"Little busy up here, sir. The Klingons have charged weapons."
"Understood, do what you have to do." The Captain ordered and the com line went silent.
"Ensign, hail them." Reed ordered hurriedly.
"Aye," Hoshi's hands began working furious on her board and after a few nervous moments, shook her head. "No response."
"Three hundred thousand kilometres and closing…" Travis reported.
"They've sped up, red lining their engines, one half impulse."
"Are they insane? They have sensors; surely they can tell we could blow them into space dust if we wanted?" Hoshi wondered.
"I can only guess their motivations, and don't particularly care," Lieutenant Reed declared calmly, "but they're going to have to fire first."
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The lumbering Klingon ship entered reliable weapons range at fifty thousand kilometres, and its two fore particle cannons lashed out in bright beams of green. The energy flared Enterprise' shields into the visible spectrum as it bled the offensive energy harmlessly off into space, with negligible drain.
Only now did the Earth exploration cruiser power its own triphase cannons, which under Lt Reed's aim, shot ruby shafts of phasing particle energy to collide with the D5 freighter's own shields. The Klingon shields were old, and were salvaged for use by them on the ship, hence, they were overloaded and the generators destroyed within two shots from Enterprise.
Malcolm Reed was not content to leave the Klingons at that point, since those particle cannons of the freighter could be turned on the colony from orbit. Enterprise swooped in a dorsal attack run over the vessel and pin point weapons fire swiftly destroyed the weapons of the Klingon freighter. Two more beams hit the Klingon warp nacelles and as a coup the grace, a torpedo specially calibrated fired from Enterprise' aft launcher – and reduced the Impulse engines of the freighter to slag.
It listed initially but recovered its orbit by manoeuvring thrusters, which Malcolm was thankful to see his sensors showed still working. Disabling a ship is a tricky business of guesswork most of the time; on where systems were located, sensors could only tell you so much…he was somewhat grateful that the Klingons were not spiralling to their death. They weren't at war with the Klingons after all – and while their logs would prove that the freighter fired first – Malcolm knew that those warlike brutes wouldn't listen, it wasn't in their nature.
"Enterprise to Captain Archer," Malcolm said after Hoshi opened a channel.
"What's happening, Lieutenant?"
"The Klingons fired on us first, we disabled them, sir; main power, weapons, sublight, and warp drives are down, they're not going anywhere, Captain. They've got life support, auxiliary power and thrusters, that's it."
"I take it our upgrades performed well, then?"
"As advertised, sir," Malcolm replied with satisfaction evident in his voice.
"Good, it seems these Klingons were bullying the colonists into handing over most of their deuterium with hardly any proper compensation. They also believed they had an exclusive agreement as sole customers…which I think, is why they opened fire."
"Hardly honourable conduct for a warrior race that prides itself on it, Captain," Malcolm mused.
"Exactly, which is why T'Pol thinks they're not really affiliated with the Klingon High Council, so you can relax Malcolm, you didn't start a war."
"So what do we do about the Klingons now, they'll start to effect repairs…"
"I've got an idea about that."
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In one of the prefab modules Jon flipped closed his communicator. Tessic, E'lis and Maklii, (the effective second in charge of the settlement) all looked at him with astonishment. Tessic gathered his wits about him immediately though. "If you have hand weapons in that shuttle of yours, Captain. I suggest you get it…the only thing on their minds will be revenge now, they'll try to Transport down first thing."
"They shouldn't be able to do that without main power," Jon pointed out.
"No, but I don't pretend to know the first thing about Klingon technology, Captain, and prefer to be cautious."
Jon saw the logic and nodded to T'Pol before running out the module, whilst quickly getting on his communicator again and telling Trip to get to the shuttlepod weapons locker, since he was closer.
Tessic's decision was prescient. Barely five minutes later, red energetic light materialized out of nowhere, right in the centre of the settlement. It resolved itself very quickly into a seven foot tall, hairy, chocolate skinned humanoid, with overly pronounced cranial ridges. The Klingon was clothed in hairy leathers…the large disruptor in his right hand, and curved bladed weapon in the other completed the ensemble.
His enraged screaming was a sight to behold. "WHO are the P'tahs who dares usurp our fuel and fires on our ship?!" Another Klingon materialized next to him a moment later. Jon figured that perhaps they could only go one at a time…in any event it was time to end this.
He popped from his concealment behind a module and his phase pistol spat a beam that hit the Klingon square over the chest. Trip and T'Pol emerged and did the same to the other Klingon that had come down. And so it continued…a Klingon would beam down and barely before they could even think of raising a disruptor, they were hit with multiple beams set on stun. T'Pol had expressed her concern that Klingon physiology would need more of a jolt than the stun setting provided, so they used weight of fire to get over that problem.
In the end, fourteen Klingons lay in a heap of unconscious bodies. They waited, waited, no more came.
"Archer to Enterprise."
"Reed here, sir."
"Are there any more lifesigns on the ship?"
"None, sir."
"I want you to take a boarding party over to it, secure it as best you are able. Do an inventory of what they have in their holds."
"Aye, sir. Anything else?"
"Send the second shuttlepod down, we're going to move some uninvited guests to their new home."
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Jon, T'Pol and Trip stood next to the open hatch of the shuttlepod, lying prone a good ten meters away, was the leader of the Klingon marauders, Korok. It had taken a fair bit of heavy grunt work and constant back and forth trips with both shuttlepods – they'd even had to stun most of the Klingons again, as they recovered – but Jon's solution had been implemented.
He wouldn't execute the Klingons for piracy, which was what they essentially were doing to Tessic and the colonists – this wasn't the seventeenth century after all. He had asked T'Pol what Vulcans would do to pirates. She had said simply.
'Pirates don't attack Vulcan ships or colonies.'
It would be nice if Earth could engender that same kind of simple rule of self-preservation on the part of pirates and marauders. 'Attack us at your own peril.' Guess he would have to start with this lot.
Korok awoke after another twenty minutes of patient waiting on their part. The Klingon was on his feet in an instant, and had reared to attack them again with his bare hands – but stopped short at the sight of three phase pistols aimed unerringly at him.
"Welcome to you new home, Korok," Jon said coldly, gesturing to the grassland landscape around them. They were on the edge of a deep valley, and had scattered the fourteen Klingons all over it. "We're on a northern continent of the planet where you attacked my ship. It's isolated by a few hundred miles of water, so you can't bother the colonists you've been harassing by trekking back to them."
"You are marooning us, human?!" Korok snarled the question.
"Exactly," Jon narrowed his eyes. "In my judgement as Captain of a vessel you attacked for no other reason than your own wounded pride that you were not the exclusive customer of Tessic – you and your crew are condemned to live out the rest of your days on this planet. If you can't be a responsible member of the interstellar community then you don't belong in it."
"There is a cache of food that should last three months in the centre of this valley," T'Pol spoke up next. "I know of Klingon survival training, that is enough time for you to fashion your own weapons and our scans show that there is plentiful wildlife on this continent…you will not starve."
"Get walking," Jon growled, gesturing with his pistol.
Korok howled in anger finally before whirling around and walking away.
"Let's get out of here."
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Deuterium Settlement
"Unless you're planning to join Starfleet I'm afraid you'll have to give up that chair."
Trip grinned at Q'ell, who was again seated on the pilot seat of Shuttlepod One.
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
"Yeah, that's one of the tough things about my job. Saying goodbye to people like you and your friends. So what did you think of Enterprise?"
"Not as big as most, but you hurt a Klingon ship badly, not many can do that."
"Yeah, we can look after ourselves, and now you can too." Trip had for the past four days felt more like a gunsmith than an engineer. Taking apart, repairing and replacing the parts for old and mostly malfunctioning pulse and plasma weapons the colonists owned. Next time any pirates came a calling they would be in for one hell of surprise. "Oh, yeah, that reminds me." He pulled out a Padd and handed it over to the delighted boy. "Basic schematics for Enterprise. You said you like to look at starships. This one'll knock your socks off."
"Thanks. Do you think you'll come back?"
"Who knows? Our engines need a lot of deuterium."
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Jon looked over the massive containers brimming with top grade deuterium and turned to Tessic with a quizzical look. "There is more than a thousand litres here."
"Four thousand," Tessic grinned.
"Our deal was for two hundred."
"Our deal was for power cells, medical supplies and repair work. You provided us with much more than that. Gave us back our livelihood and the ability to defend ourselves. Not to mention all the cargo in the Klingon ship for all the previous times they robbed us."
"What are you going to do with their ship?" Maklii asked curiously.
"We'll be spending a few extra days in orbit, studying it and its databanks, then we'll put it on autopilot and send it into the System primary."
"A fitting end. Give your crew our thanks."
"Have a good season." Jon nodded at them as he climbed into Shuttlepod One.
A few moments later it lifted off and ascended back into the heavens.
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San Francisco, Earth
Seeing this Earth was like something out of a dream. Sam had to occasionally pinch herself as she walked through the streets and saw the people walking back and forth, going about their business, personal shuttles speeding through designated air lanes, large intercontinental passenger liners hovering over the Golden Gate. Buildings that kept the flavour and soul of the original San Francisco she remembered yet made with high tech materials. It reminded her of Hebridan and Tollana in her own Universe – where humans had advanced considerably.
There was also the occasional alien, which made it rather surreal. Vulcans, were of course, the most numerous – but there was also Denobulans and few others sprinkled here and there…mostly doing trade and so on.
Starfleet Command and the Academy, well, now that was an impressive place and beautiful. The huge campus overlooked San Francisco Bay and she could only imagine having to spend four years as a cadet in such a pristine place. Not that the cadets were soft or pampered in any way – Starfleet Academy to her felt like the USAF Academy except teaching pure spaceflight, warp mechanics and science instead of merely aerospace operations and combat courses.
Admiral Forrest had given her a VIP pass to get a tour of the place along with Teal'C, Cam, Vala, and Daniel.
The five of them, dressed in rather snug stylish civilian clothes stopped at an observation deck looking over the bay. It was nearing spring, so it was still a little chilly and the wind carried a slight cold sting to it.
"Now this is a nice planet," Vala declared immediately.
"It is," agreed Daniel wistfully. "Makes me hope our Earth can do the same eventually."
"Don't forget, these folks fought a Third World War, we haven't…didn't, won't, ah hell, all you're seeing is a brand spankin new world that's risen out of its ashes, like a phoenix, they also had a little help from the Vulcans doing it," Cam reasoned.
"But it's still amazing, nevertheless, a united world government, no war, no hunger, everyone who wants a job can get one…in fact, I hear there's a shortage of labour in Sol."
"Speaking of labour, when are we getting assigned to our own new jobs and the houses and credits to go with it?" Vala enquired eagerly
"It seems one thing is Multiversal, red tape," Sam laughed ruefully. "It'll be another two weeks for us playing tourist, before we get our commissions in SI. I think out of all of you, I'm going to be the busiest, not to mention the General."
"He was due to meet with General Casey yesterday, wasn't he? How'd that go?" Cam asked.
"Well, according to Hank," Sam smiled. "All it took was a tour of Odyssey, and Casey was convinced on the merits of cooperating with us. They're both now going to work on a System defence plan for Sol using the technologies we brought with us."
"Speak for yourself, Sam," Daniel grinned. "I'm going to be up to my eyeballs in studying Exo-linguistics and archaeology for Starfleet."
"And can you believe that Mr Harris actually wants me to teach my wily ways to his people," Vala declared smugly, looking at Daniel – who only rolled his eyes in response.
Sam felt a frission of discomfort at the thought – Section 31 reminded her of a light side version of the National Intelligence Directorate only with a lot more power to operate all over the globe and even beyond. It had been one of the only 'snags' to their deal with Forrest and Starfleet – all of the Odyssey Six - as they now thought of themselves - were now titular Section 31 operatives – since their background histories had to be fabricated and inserted into official records.
Sam, Hank, Cam and Teal'C had their ranks transferred over to a 'Naval' form – she would now be Captain Carter of Starfleet Intelligence – Science Division. Hank would be Admiral Landry, whilst Cam would also be a Captain. He would be assigned to the Starfleet Fighter program to bring the Odyssey technologies into it and his own combat experience in the F302.
Sam looked at Teal'C and her eyes still couldn't help but gravitate towards the smooth forehead that he now sported. It was so odd, seeing him without the mark of Apophis, but it would draw too much attention otherwise – and he couldn't wear a hat all the time. The procedure to remove it was quite simple in retrospect…they had asked the Asgard Core for a device that could remove the gold alloy and heal the skin and tissue underneath as it went. The result was a device that had aspects of a transporter and a hand healing device all rolled into one – and barely two applications later – the mark was gone. Captain Teal'C would soon be, as he desired, an instructor in personal defence for Starfleet Academy.
"So where do we go next? We've seen pretty much all of San Fran," Cam pondered.
"I've always wanted to go that place…hmmm…what was it, ah, Hawaii," Vala piped up.
"Hawaii, it is."
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A/N: As you can see I'm starting the AU aspects already, although the alternate Marauder episode is just me fixing logical aspects of the story I didn't like. Like how the Klingon D5 tanker couldn't detect Enterprise the instant it came out of warp. Five hundred thousand K is less than two light seconds, visual sensors alone should have spotted Enterprise almost instantly. Archer deciding to maroon the Klingons in punishment is the most 'humane' solution – to protect the colonists and it rids the region of a bunch of pirates and Starfleet gets technical intel on a Klingon ship in the bargain.