Chapter Two
"Who will keep the world from death?
Who will stop the coming night?
"I am Councillor Treyn of the Magran High Council. We are Klingon 2.0, but we prefer to be called Magrans. This is a large ship and yet you appeared from out of nowhere in our system. I have speculated a time warp?"
"We were under attack from dozens of ships," Picard admitted. "It seemed the only way to keep my people alive."
Treyn nodded. "Dangerous move, but it seems to have worked. Do you know how far back in time you have come?"
"I estimate we travelled five to ten years," Data said.
"This is nonsense," Worf growled. "There is no colony called Magra in the Klingon Empire: I would have heard of it." The big Klingon's teeth showed in a snarl.
"We are not now, nor have we ever been, part of the Empire," Treyn stated. He stared for a while at the floor as if looking back at the rest of the ship.
"I am recalled by the Council; I will state your case and advise that this ship is no threat to us, and that we should render aid before it falls apart."
He beamed away. Picard sat down heavily.
"At full impulse, it will take us twenty years to reach Federation space." He held up a hand to stop Data correcting him to the fifth decimal place. "But if we can get communications working, they can send a ship to us in a few days, so let's concentrate our efforts on that."
"Perhaps the Magrans will broadcast a message for us?" Data asked.
"You must not accept assistance from those… things, captain," Worf snarled. "Their existence dishonours what it means to be Klingon."
"Worf, my ship is dead and the remains of my crew in grave danger; if they offer help, I cannot in all conscience turn it down," Picard pointed out. "But we cannot assume what help they may give, so we will carry on as before. Prepare the ship for saucer separation, move whatever resources we can from the secondary hull."
"Very well, captain," Data said. "I will climb down to engineering, since the turbolifts are still inoperable."
Picard sat in the cold. My friend is dead. My ship is dead. The twin thoughts cycled. His body ached, too heavy to move. In a moment, he would move, but he needed a moment to process the losses.
Trayn materialised and began talking immediately: "the Council have put out a call for volunteers to operate the medical facilities and-" Magrans appeared on the bridge, the fuzzy lights of transporter energy lasted only an instant and were hard to spot. They all wore colourful clothes of some natural fibre. Picard realised they were following a plan, for they arrived carrying parts and tools, ready to work.
"Come aboard and repair your ship," Treyn finished.
Hope returned and Picard struggled to his feet.
"Volunteers?" Worf strode over and supervised two Klingons dismantling his tactical station. "Do they have the expertise to repair the Enterprise systems?"
"I am downloading the information directly as people notify me they are willing to come aboard and work," Trayn aimed the last remark at a group of young Magrans following Worf around the bridge. They had the manner of people at a zoo, looking in the cages.
"Are you saying you can download knowledge to an individual's brain?" Worf demanded. Treyn nodded.
Picard brushed his combadge: "Mr La Forge, it appears we are to be given help- "
"Sir!" Data said, pointing at the main viewer. It showed Magrans transporting in, floating near the ship and then disappearing again. They appeared to be unharmed by the vacuum of space.
"Your Enterprise has become a tourist attraction," Treyn grinned and continued in a more commanding tone. "But they might at least stop the ship spinning and retrieve that warp nacelle while they are out there."
But the grin doesn't reach his eyes.
Picard's balance rocked as the ship slowed and the next time he glimpsed the warp nacelle there were figures clustered around it.
"How much aid can you give us?" Picard got to the point. "If we can free the saucer section from the warp drive, we can get home on Impulse Power."
"No need for that," Treyn said. "We will return your ship to its original specifications, captain."
But his voice did not have the same bombastic tone it had earlier. He's had the wind taken out of his sails.
"How are you doing all this?" Worf demanded. He placed his body between Treyn and the captain.
"We achieved unity with our technology over five centuries ago," Treyn said.
"The Emperor Kahless taught that a warrior's body should remain pure," Worf said.
"My grandfather was among the warriors who stripped captured Hur'q ships of their secrets. He came to see the universe as a glorious opportunity for learning, rather than a glorious opportunity for battle, so he and his followers left the empire."
"The Chancellors uphold the will of Kahless," Worf warned.
"Oh, we know. We have listening posts, we keep ourselves informed. That's how we know about the Federation and these humans." Trayn nodded at Picard. "Although we didn't know there were Klingons serving on Federation ships?"
"Just me," Worf said.
Two children charged Worf. They wore coloured tunics and trousers, the girl had glitter painted on the peaks of her brow ridges. They barraged Worf with questions about being a warrior; about Kronos. Worf answered the questions as quickly as possible, but the two children were talking over each other and him.
"Quall! Halis! Leave our guest in peace," Trayn demanded, in a father's tone. "If you must be aboard this ship, find something useful to do." The two children vanished, muttering "yes, father," as they went.
Picard tried to restore order to his thoughts and return to running his ship. He brushed his com badge: "Doctor Crusher from the bridge, casualty report, please?"
"We're overrun, Jean Luc," Beverly Crusher sounded exhausted. "I have casualties on the floor, casualties in the corridors, and the Security personnel are acting as corpsmen and bringing in more casualties. Losing the gravity plating hurt a lot of people."
"Doctor, we will move the injured to our medical facilities, where volunteers are waiting to help," Treyn announced.
"Oh…. good? Who is this please?"
"We have found allies Beverly," Picard said. I hope.
"Okay, we'll work out who can be moved," she said.
"No need, and we will take the medical staff along with the injured, I'm sure your experience of the various physiologies will be useful," Treyn said.
The abrupt silence on the com startled Picard.
"Doctor Crusher…Beverly?" He tried to keep the alarm from his voice, but failed.
"And where is Commander Riker's body?" He demanded, noticing the bridge cleared of bodies.
"All the injured were transported to our medical facilities," Trayn informed him.
"The commander is not injured- he is dead," Worf said.
"By your definition, perhaps. But not by ours. I can see you are worried about your crew, captain, so why don't I give you a tour of our medical facilities?"
Picard was in a large, brightly lit room, full of Enterprise crew and Magrans. "I would appreciate a little warning before being transported," he said.
Trayn pressed an instrument to his head and Picard felt the numbness leave his head, and then his eye was healed. Trayn explained the purpose of each instrument as he used them, and a little of the history of their development.
You're trying very hard to impress me, but why?
As far as Picard could see, all the power in the relationship was with the Magrans. It's almost as if they're getting ready to ask a favour, but what could we have that they need?
He watched Ensign Lilli have a leg replaced, failing to hide his amazement. Some kind of replicator technology recreated the missing tissue and bone.
"We don't have the computing power to replicate living tissue," he said.
"We only use computers for data storage, and the more mundane work. It is the operator of the device who is calculating where each molecule must go to recreate living cells," Trayn said.
"You must have a processing speed close to Data's," Picard said to the woman working the replicator.
"Yes, that's why we find him so interesting," Treyn said. "It will take a few days for us to heal this poor fellow, though." Treyn waved at a head laid out at one end of a table, the neck torn and bloody.
"What? But Lieutenant Brewer is dead," Picard spluttered as he recognised the face. He prided himself on knowing his crew, but it hurt more when he saw their bodies broken.
"Nonsense, it will just take longer to replace the missing tissue."
"And Commander Riker?" Picard asked, hope warming his chest.
"I'll check," Treyn answered. There was a tiny sparkle next to him and Riker beamed in. He was wearing a clean uniform, but his hair was a mess of dried blood.
"Will!" Picard hugged his friend for a moment, before stepping back and straightening his tunic.
"Captain, I woke up in a hospital run by Klingons," Riker said. "I thought I'd been taken prisoner, but they tell me we are their guests and they are not Klingons."
"We are not," Treyn assured him. "We are Magrans. Now, what else can I show you, captain? Or perhaps you would like to eat something? We have facilities set up to feed your people once they are back on their feet."
Picard agreed and minutes later attacked the plateful put in front of him with relish while Treyn regaled the table with tales from Magran history. After a further tour of the medical centre, Picard had to break Treyn's flow of chat.
"Councilor Treyn, I find I am waiting for the other shoe to drop," Picard said, facing the man.
"I'm sorry captain, but my knowledge of your language seems to be incomplete?"
"I would love to know how you download information and expertise to the brain," Picard said.
"Well, I can show you that technology- "Treyn began.
"But some other time." Picard held up a hand. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop means I have a feeling you are trying to keep me talking, while something else is going on? What you have done for my crew is wonderful, but…"
"Ah. You are right…" Trayn said. "There is a problem."
Picard found himself in the Enterprise Observation Lounge, with Riker, Data, Counsellor Troi and Worf standing, and a group of Magrans already seated. One or two stared down at the glass table top, but some had their faces in their hands.
"This," Trayn announced grandly, "is the Magran High Council."
"You allow women on the High Council?" Worf barked. Picard winced, he had wanted to get to the meat of the problem.
"Easier than trying to stop 'em," one of the old males said. Picard noted that the room was longer than usual, to allow seats for all the Magrans and leave empty seats for himself and his officers.
"I am Kolth, son of Draketh," the old Magran introduced himself to Worf in the traditional way.
Treyn ushered Picard to his usual seat at the head of the table.
"Understand, we have cloaked listening posts near the Klingon Empire, and are in regular contact with the star systems around us," Treyn said, to introduce the problem. "We trade and exchange learning whenever the opportunity arises, which is how we know about your Federation."
"I am Garyl, Captain, I am what you would call an astronomer," a woman introduced herself. "We compared your star maps to ours, and calculated that you have travelled back in time- 18 years."
"And why does that worry you so much, Garyl?" Picard asked. He had a lot of experience at reading Klingon faces. Magran faces were not that different. These people have had the rug pulled out from under them.
"Our grandparents and parents spent their lives exploring the galaxy and learning from the peoples they met," Treyn said. "It was our generation who terraformed the planets in this stellar system… who created Magran society, and now you bring us this…."
A hologram of the Enterprise sensor display appeared above the table.
"We downloaded the Enterprise sensor logs from the attack and processed them. You can understand, the possibility of a fleet of warships on our doorstep was a worry. This hologram represents the output of that processing," Garyl said.
Kolth reached over the table and enlarged a star system until the planets were the size of marbles and the star they orbited moved back through the wall.
"This is Magra and these are her planets," the old Magran said. "Notice there are no life signs in the entire system?" His voice was low and husky. "Six billion Magrans gone in 18 years. I have great grandchildren, captain."
The hologram changed to show a close up of one of the attack ships.
"The replicator technology your assailants used to create ships, is ours," Treyn confessed. "But ship construction and engine design are closer to what the Parisee use. The Parisee occupy one of the other star systems you scanned, which is also lifeless in your time."
"But the material make-up of the hull and the engines are unlike the technology of either peoples," Garyl said, "which may suggest a third party invades both systems and then incorporates our technology into their own."
"Or it's an automated system we build that turns on us," Kolth murmured. "There are no life signs on any of those ships. They are fully automated."
"Or the Parisee," Treyn added. "We wouldn't leave the control of a system like that to computers, but the Parisee would."
"You have delivered us a tricky problem, captain," Kolth admitted, nodding his bony head. "Knowing the facts you have brought from the future, can we avoid extinction? Or is it our response to this knowledge which brings our extinction?"
"A tricky problem?" Garyl spluttered. "Inside 18 years all our children are dead- and you call that a tricky problem?"
Garyl's shoulders shook and Kolth leaned over and took her in his arms. The old Magran's face looked ready for tears. It shook Picard to his core to see so much naked grief.
"I must also point out you would create a bootstrap paradox by using our information to escape extinction since that changes the future, which means the Enterprise will never be attacked and escape through a time warp, to give you the information you used to escape extinction," Data informed the table. Picard struggled to follow the twisted thread of logic.
"We know," Treyn said. "It will take three days to finish repairs to the Enterprise and your crew. We assume you will want to return to your own time and can plot a safe and efficient time warp course for you."
"Thank you, that's very gracious, especially under the circumstances," Picard said. "If there is any way we can help with this." He nodded at the hologram. "We will try."
Kolth stared at Picard for a long moment before speaking. "We Magran like to believe ourselves the intellectual superior to most of the peoples we meet. But you, Captain, outnumbered and out gunned, surrounded in every direction, still found a way out. If you see any way out of this conundrum, we will hear you out."
They vanished, and the room returned to its normal proportions.
"I have met gods and demi gods and fake gods, but these technologically advanced Magrans, are hard to keep up with," Picard admitted. "Number One, let's get the Enterprise back on her feet."
Picard caught Data opening his mouth and added: "figuratively speaking."
The senior staff returned to running the ship. Crew numbers swelled as people returned from the medical centres.
"Captain, you should go to bed," Riker suggested, as he noticed Picard nodding off in his chair. Picard jerked awake and looked around at the bridge. People were doing their jobs, systems were being repaired or replaced. No one appeared to need a captain right now. He realised his First Officer was right, and it would be a good time to catch some sleep.
He studied Riker's haggard face.
"You should too, Will, let's call this the night shift and hand command over to Data."
"I would, but he's on the Magran home world, studying their technology while they are studying him. He's in hog heaven," Riker grinned.
"Oh," Picard said, then realised he had to ask. "Will, you were dead for over an hour. Is there… any ill effect from your experience?"
"Not so far, captain," Riker said. "The last thing I remember is running from Tactical towards the helm when I saw Lieutenant Cleaver thrown across the bridge. Then I woke up in the hospital."
The girl appeared, then her brother. He chased her around the bridge.
"Stay off the bridge," Picard barked. "This is no place for children of any species."
The siblings vanished at the turbolifts.
"In what way?" Picard asked, turning back to Riker.
"Permission to speak freely?"
"Always, Will."
"You've allowed the Magrans access to every part of the ship, but many of our systems are top secret- especially from Klingons."
"Magrans differ greatly from Klingons," Picard said.
"They are more technologically advanced," Riker conceded. "Even more advanced than the Vulcans or the Borg."
"Yes, and when they pushed themselves on us, I worried about their true motivations for helping us. But in the Observation Lounge, when they discovered their system will be barren of life in 18 years…" Picard paused. "They are not concerned about their accomplishments being remembered. They are not concerned about their technological accomplishments. What concerns them most are the lives of their children. The Vulcans gave up emotions to reach the achievements they have. The Borg gave up their soul. These Magrans seem to have achieved unity with their technology and kept what makes them human- or people, rather."
Picard stood. "That is the saddest part of all this. Vulcans or Borg feel nothing when they die, but these people will endure all the pain and terror we ourselves would experience."
Picard walked off to the turbolifts, head bowed, shoulders slumped under the weight of his thoughts.