* Disclaimer. I don't own Star Trek. Although how cool would that be? This is just something I do for fun and not for money. Okay now that's out of the way, on to the nerdy stuff. *
"Captain's Log: Stardate 54927.7. The Okari remains under the Doctor's supervision, as Seven of Nine's nanoprobes may have unforeseen implications to its physiology. It has given permission for a detailed analysis of its ship, preliminary scans show a temporal displacement field, confirming the Okari's claim that it really is from the past, perhaps, even from Earth. Borg debris has been detected in a nearby star system, and I've given the order to investigate. We will arrive in approximately two hours."
Voyager was steadily approaching the system. Janeway decided to use a little bit of time to make some notes in her personal log. "Seven's decision to cooperate with Anshar leaves me, uneasy. I can't help but have some sense that she will lose a part of herself that she'd worked so hard to reclaim. Anshar appears very intelligent, as much as you'd expect from a technologically advanced cybernetic species, but it appears no amount of intelligence will keep any species from getting stranded in the delta quadrant. I wish I had a clear indication of his motives. I'm hoping the Borg debris field will shed some light on Anshar's mysterious origins."
She closed her personal computer, officially ending the log entries. Her business in the ready room was finished, and went to sit in the Captain's chair on the bridge.
Harry was skeptical at first by Tom's hunch. But on the Holodeck he could produce all the proof he needed.
"The Okari said he was from the past, right?" Tom said, giving Harry more reason to believe him.
"He did say that."
"He said 329 years. That means he was from the year, uh," Tom tried to do the math in his head quicker than Harry, but Harry had already heard about the conversations between the Captain and the Okari, completing Tom's sentence.
"…2047. That was during World War III."
Tom began his unorthodox process of remembering faint memories. "Alright that's a place to start. Computer," the query tone sounded. "Extrapolate a full scale replica of the alien vessel in the Main Shuttle Bay."
In front of them the holographic photons molded together to form an exact copy of the 12 meter cylindrical ship. It held an artificial gleam upon any eyes that looked on it from every point of view. Tom thought it looked like an advanced hot rod.
"Now, Computer, are there any records of a craft like this one reported on Earth during the years, 2040-2050?"
The computer paused while processing and compiling information, it tolled upon completion, "There is one known record regarding a spacecraft similar to specified parameters."
The two were very curious to see exactly how similar they were. Tom jumped right away to his next command, "Well, let's see it."
The computer indicated confirmation, and instantly formed a ship beside the replica, a ship of exact dimensions. They were exactly the same length; the only noticeable difference came from the color. The one that the computer had found in the database appeared much more beaten up than the other, darker, and not as smooth. But the resemblance was so striking that Tom wanted to know how much. "Computer, exactly how similar is these two ships?"
"Dimensions are precise within a .03% margin of error. Alloy and composition of the ship from records is osmium, ruthenium, duratanium and 7 synthetic transitional metals. Specified ship is composed of gold, nickel-titanium, carbon concentrates, and several rare Earth metals."
"Definitely not made of the same stuff." Harry pointed out.
"No kidding." Tom walked around and in between each of the two ships, intrigued by their design. It's aerodynamically sound.
"Computer, speculate on our specified ships' method of propulsion." Harry asked the computer.
"Unable to speculate, insufficient data."
They weren't surprised with the response. Tom felt a little less dumbfounded when the computer admitted to being ignorant in its own way, the irony made him chuckle a bit. "Finally, something the computer doesn't know."
Harry was frustrated. He felt restless trying to study something when he knew Voyager was moving somewhere. His duty was to be at his post. Trying to convince Tom to leave the holodeck was a chore in itself. At least he didn't have to be a monochromatic Buster this time. "I'm going back to the bridge. I'll let you get back to your, hunch."
Tom looked up at him from between the two holographic ships with a disappointed glare. "You can't give up now, Harry, we just got started." He rubbed his hands along the hull of the ship from the database. He tried to find some indication that this thing has a hatch too. "Computer, does this thing have a hatch?"
"Affirmative."
"Open it." Tom took a step back as the ancient ship's hatch nonchalantly creaked open.
Inside was a cradle designed to hold a large nuclear warhead. A memory from Tom's past entered into his mind. It was of a spacecraft built by augmented humans. As a boy, Tom had read novels about the Eugenics Wars that had torn into humanity before World War III. He remembered from one of them a tale about a genetically engineered human that was designed with a superhuman IQ level. The augment created vast amounts of new technologies and sparked innovations in propulsion mechanics. He was one of the first to make a practical sub-light speed engine capable of traveling light years without refueling. This tiny ship was something he created to send a nuclear warhead to nearly the speed of light using extreme acceleration. A craft so small, it would be easy to accelerate so quickly. The unique augment wrote stories of fantasies of an entire fleet of nuclear weapons, descending upon all military governments at once, while fashioning himself the Emperor of the World and beyond. There were still many mysteries to this engineered human. But Tom finally remembered where he first saw the ship.
"Computer, widen the search parameters to include 20th century Earth."
"None found with exact dimensions."
Harry had an idea. "Computer, forget the dimensions, just use the hull composition as a search template."
"12 entries found."
Tom could feel the investigation progressing. He was excited to finally make the connection. "Computer, tell us about the earliest documented of those 12."
"In 1947, an extraterrestrial spacecraft crash landed in Roswell, New Mexico. Information about the ship and its contents were deemed classified until later declassified in 2054 after a stable United Nations decreed the Free Information Act as part of the Nuclear-Fallout Protection Plan. Parts of the ship were reverse engineered and later put to use toward medical technologies and also contributed toward humanity's complete understanding of the force of gravity."
Tom grew weary of the history lesson, "That's great, Computer, what can you tell me about who built the thing?"
"Information pertaining to that subject is not available."
The two officers sighed heavily. But they didn't give up trying. Tom was sure he would uncover something about Anshar that he somehow felt was there, hidden, and buried deep in that database. The brick wall that temporarily stopped him was only the first of a dozen, and he was determined to be thorough.
Harry ended up staying for the ride. He decided Tom's obsession needed close mediation and who better than his best friend to give him a slap in the face when he needed it. Harry cracked a small smile in anticipation of such a thoroughly justifiable outcome. Although Harry wouldn't admit it to Tom, he actually enjoyed this little investigation.
They examined smaller scale representations of each of the 12 ships. Some were of the same cigar-shape as the first, some were designed to be massive mother ships, but most of them were saucer shaped. Tom felt like he was going through a 20th century science fiction museum, recognizing some of the configurations from many of his favorite B movies. One of the ships was constructed in a manner that was meticulously similar to Captain Proton's ship. He began to remember how much paranoia filled humanity during the late 20th and early 21st centuries, as the human population peaked, many of them believed in intelligent life beyond the Earth. It was assumed that they just didn't have any proof, and all cultural media related to aliens was shrugged off as pure fantasy. Tom explained this to Harry, but Harry couldn't understand why this part of history was never taught at Starfleet Academy.
It occurred to Tom that the alien in Sickbay must have been the owner of one of these ships. "If that's the case, then…"
Harry finished his sentence, "…then we'll have to re-write our history books."
The doors to the holodeck sprung open as Chakotay walked through them. His demeanor appeared annoyed, and definitely not surprised.
"So this is where all the auxiliary power for our shields is going. You do remember we're under red alert, gentleman?"
"Tom's obsessed," Harry was quick to inform Chakotay.
"Chakotay, exactly the man I was thinking of. You stopped by just in time; we've found something about the little guy in Sickbay that you probably want to know."
Chakotay glanced at the holographic ship situated behind the officers. He noticed the saucer shaped structure, inducing another déjà vu feeling within his mind. Still he needed to remain firm in his tone. "When I asked you two to take a look at the alien ship, I wasn't saying go recreate it on the holodeck."
"Trust me this was worth it. You're never going to believe where this one came from." He walked around the holographic craft in front of them. Tom had hoped he'd find something interesting before Chakotay stuck his head in their investigation. Fortunately he'd already finished in his mind the performance he would give, and Harry would notoriously seal the deal.
Curiosity got the better of the first officer. He let his command posture go into a jubilant archaeology mode. He listened to their presentation with an interested ear. Tom showed him evidence he couldn't believe at first. The third ship he saw excited a memory from Chakotay's childhood, a story his father told him of an early tribesman claiming to have been abducted by aliens, but no one had ever believed him. Chakotay pat them a "good work" compliment, and then escorted them back to the bridge.
The Sickbay intercom buzzed, accompanied with Seven's voice. "Seven of Nine to the Doctor,"
"Go ahead, Seven."
"I am ready for you and the Okari in the Cargo Bay."
"Understood, we're on our way."
After the channel closed the Doctor walked toward Anshar with standard-issue civilian clothing, tailored to his unique proportions by the replicator.
"These are for you, unless you plan on walking around the ship, naked."
"This is itchy human custom." He struggled with the sleeves, slipping his arms through only after asking the Doctor for assistance. "Clothing makes modesty govern society. Why let this be so?"
"Unlike you, we have parts that we feel the need to hide."
Anshar waved his hand, agreeing to disagree. Anshar wobbled awkwardly as they made their way to the Cargo Bay. He looked around in amazement, seeing all the advancements humans had made over the last few centuries. Crewman in the corridors stood in mild shock at the sight of Anshar, evoking a feeling of irrational fear. He took no notice of it, knowing for certain his safety would be ensured by the Doctors programming.
They entered their destination with Seven standing in front of a carefully contrived alcove with her hands behind her, patiently awaiting their arrival. The new alcove was smaller than the one she used, but she linked them together like alcoves in Borg ships, engineering a unique interplexing beacon with limited range, only encompassing the alcoves.
The grey alien gracelessly paced toward Seven with his mind reaching out to her. Being former Borg, Seven instantly understood his thoughts. He focused on his telepathy nodes, translating not just his thoughts, but his emotions into a subspace signal. Thanks to the involuntary injection of some of her nanoprobes, he was able to transmit to the exact frequency of her cortical implant. She bowed her head slightly, comprehending the feeling of gratification he sent her. Something about the alien made her very trusting.
Seven and Anshar stepped inside the Borg alcoves and turned around. The Doctor opened his portable med-kit and pulled a circular instrument from it. "This is a synaptic monitor. It will allow me to help this go more smoothly." He placed one on Anshar, and the other on Seven. "I am ready whenever you two are."
She inhaled one more deep breath, gazed down at Anshar, "are you sure you are ready?"
"Yes."
"Computer, initiate Regeneration Cycle."
After the computer toned, Seven closed her eyes. The Doctor kept a close watch on the brain wave patterns of the two, noticing the steady repetition of the waves, indicating they are proceeding well.
The alien's mind was like a new world, satisfying every sense. Only this was more like a new ship. She found herself standing inside a vessel, colorful blinking lights covering the interior in a similar manner to Anshar's ship in the Shuttle Bay. But this was much larger, obviously built for multiple humanoids. The bulkheads sparked with an encumbrance of bio-luminescent life forms, showing a massive amount of energy passing through. Musky smells annoyed her to a degree. Half dozen grey aliens of different sizes worked habitually at each station, appearing to ignore Seven's presence. The tallest one moved closer to the edge of the room where Seven was standing. The alien shifted left and glared with an ominous intent. Hardly startled, Seven looked around to see all six of them staring at her. Moments later they all began to speak in one harmonious reverberating tone.
"Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. Your presence here is authorized."
Curious, Seven felt it to be a good time to ask her first question, "Why did you request my presence?"
"You are unique among humans. We have passion for cybernetic life forms. We are also of technological origin. We desire peaceful coexistence, knowledge, compassion for all life forms."
Seven nodded her head slightly, liking what she heard. "Humans agree."
"Not always."
Pausing, Seven frowned with the response, she needed more. "Elaborate."
The aliens slowly staggered toward Seven. This caused her to take a step away nervously, unable to keep herself from displaying fear. She realized she was in control, and there was nothing that could get by the Doctor. She stood her ground while the aliens began to close in on her. They started to grab her and held on, the environment changed, and she began to experience memories from the small Okari collective. They elicited memories of their observation missions, abduction and lethal experiments on humans, climate modification, breeding projects, everything they did to humans and Earth in the past 1200 years. She felt overwhelmed at first, downloading so much information at once.
Minutes pass as the Doctor records brief variations in Seven's heart rate. It kept returning to normal. The Doctor didn't like this, although he wouldn't want something to go wrong just to break the link early. Seven was clearly adamant she wanted to go through with this despite the risks, confident in her abilities to anticipate every contingency. It was definitely her greatest strength, and most annoying attribute, the Doctor thought.
Environments shifted from one to the other as she witnessed horrible atrocities committed by the Okari. It was communicated to her that it was all done for the purpose of science, but that didn't convince her.
They began another series of memories, those of the crash in the southwest portion of the northern continent. A highly improbable malfunction caused the thousand year old craft to spin through Earth's atmosphere and impact at subsonic speeds, sending the aliens flying, and then landed several hundred meters from the crash site. Humans had discovered the debris and the injured aliens and taken them to a secret facility located in a remote part of a desert. The aliens spent the next 80 years confined and tortured, interrogated and mutilated countless times. Surgeons extracted their implants and examined the mechanics. A particularly barbaric human was fascinated with their regenerative capability; wounds would heal in hours instead of days. Two of the aliens did not survive. Anshar was left with the single desire to leave, with no safety left in numbers, he barely survived the escape. The memories flashed continuously until Seven spoke to the lone alien, Anshar.
"There were mistakes, on both sides." Seven said in a soothing voice. "Peace can still be repaired."
His apathetic manner was quickly changed to a human-like exultation. Anshar's eyes blinked rapidly with excitement. Although the species never evolved muscles to give definite facial expressions, he attempted a smile, and spoke in his collective voice. "Thank you."
The regeneration cycle ended after only a half hour. Seven opened her eyes and stepped out of the alcove as Anshar mirrored her. The Doctor stood with a medical tricorder over the two, happy that everything went smoothly. "I hope you two had a nice nap. It looked to have been quite peaceful according to my scanners."
Seven gave him confirming nod, "It was." She kept her experience to herself, to the Doctor's dismay. She felt if humans aboard Voyager had discovered the boorish experiments the Okari had performed over many years, they might react poorly.
Voyager dropped out of warp. On the screen appeared a planet with an orange glow, covered in colossal dust storms. Sparse clouds patched a thick oxygen-argon atmosphere. As the fourth planet in this binary star system, it was roughly the size of Earth. But it reminded Janeway of Ocampa.
Tuvok's panel beeped with a warning that the tactical scanners had detected a threat, "Captain, I've located the debris, spread around almost 40 square kilometers, 11 degrees south of the equatorial line."
Harry completed his scan of the region, "I'm not detecting any life signs on the surface."
Janeway paced around behind Tom. "Keep scanning for transwarp signatures. Chakotay, take an away team. See if you can find out what happened down there."
The first officer took a brief glimpse at Tuvok and Harry before they followed him into the turbolift. "Seven of Nine report to Transporter Room 1."
"Acknowledged, Commander."