In 3099, Richard Daniels looked up from his PADD as his boss, Admiral Carmen Calavicci, entered his office. "Something I can do for you?" he asked.
"Nothing in particular," she said, "I have a bit of a mission for you."
"Oh? Where and when am I going to?"
"You'll stay here," she said, "it's job interviews. I have got two candidates and I'd like to bring them both in. Mister O'Connor has taken his lovely wife on vacation so you are elected to help me."
"Oh, uh, okay."
"One is Otra D'Angelo. She's half-human and half-Witannen, and can reportedly see temporal alternatives. The other is her friend, Levi Cavendish. He's an engineer – he can design and build time ships."
"But we don't need time ships, with the time portals," Richard pointed out.
"Don't be so sure. We might want to ferry several more people than usual. Or we might want to send people to the Mirror Universe."
"Ah," he said. "Well, let me know what I can do to help."
"Thanks; I knew I could count on you." She departed.
He glanced at his PADD, which had gone into sleep mode, and showed old family photographs, going back over a thousand years. There were a lot of people he only knew by name, and then it was only because there was a caption to the photograph. One such picture was of a woman named Lili O'Day.
=/\=
In her cabin, Lili dreamt.
It was pitch dark, but she could hear or perhaps just sense someone. "Who's there?" she called out.
"You don't know me," said a male voice.
"You sound like Jay Hayes."
"Similar," he allowed. "I don't mean to alarm you. And I know that yesterday's events are troubling you. And a lot of other events will as well. But I want you to know, Lili; that I will be here during your darkest hours. You can count on me."
His hand briefly pressed hers, his thumb caressing her fingers.
A little alarmed, she woke.
"Oh, my!" she called out.
"You okay, roomie?" asked her roommate, Engineering Ensign Jennifer Crossman.
"What?"
"You called out in your sleep."
"Well, I talk in my sleep. You know that," Lili shook off the feeling. It had been … weird. It was almost like someone trying to be comforting, but being a bit awkward in the execution. "Uh, I better get breakfast rolling."
"Aren't you the least bit curious about things?" asked Jenny.
"Aren't you the least bit hungry?" Lili countered. "I'm sure greater minds than myself will be working on that." There was a PADD chime. "Ah," she said, checking messages, "I'm serving an exec level breakfast today in the Observation Lounge."
"There are those greater minds you were talking about." Jenny headed for the shower.
=/\=
The executive staff sat down as Lili served breakfast. "I made scrambled eggs," she said, "with cheese." Lieutenant Reed made a bit of a face. "Did you not want cheese, sir? I can get you something else."
"No, uh, that's all right, Ensign," he said, lips tight.
"I also made Scottish steel-cut oats for Commander T'Pol. Plus there's fresh fruit on the side, jams and butter, plus wheat toast. Coffee is just about done, too. And I have," there was a whistle, "tea. That'll be the tea." She put out a box of assorted tea bags. Only T'Pol and Malcolm took tea. She started to pour hot water for them.
Captain Archer spoke. "It's looking an awful lot like we suffered the same setback as that other ship did. So I am guessing we're in 2037 although we'll need to confirm that. T'Pol?"
"Captain, despite what the Vulcan Science Directorate has determined regarding time travel; it would appear that the year is, indeed, different from 2154. As to how different, that will require study of the stars and their positions. If you could assist me, Ensign Mayweather – that would be helpful."
"Yes, Ma'am," Travis took some strawberry preserves for his toast.
"Sir," Shelby Pike reported, "we might need to start thinking about our rations and the like."
"In a moment," the captain turned, "Hoshi?"
"I've checked and there is no Jupiter Station and there is no Mars Colony," she replied. "As for settlements further out, those of course aren't there as well. The Lunar Colony does not exist, either. I have not yet tried to ping Earth, but I fear the worst. Plus it'll take a while. We are rather far from home, sir."
"Right." The captain turned. "Malcolm?"
"We sustained some minor damage in our engagement with the species called Imvari, but I believe there was more sustained when we were hit by the Kovaalan particle wake. It's nothing that can't be repaired quickly, I'll wager." He pushed his food around on his plate and only picked at it a little.
"Tripp?" asked Captain Archer.
"I got repair crews goin' and they should be done soon. Malcolm's right – damages were minor, which is good. It's a pity that Jupiter Station isn't an option."
"Phlox?"
"We had a few very minor injuries. Crewman Rosen has a sprained wrist from falling on it after we hit the particle wake. But even he isn't in Sick Bay."
"Good," Archer stated. "Major?"
"The MACOs stand ready to defend this ship and her crew," Jay Hayes said. He reached over a little for the jar of blueberry jam. Lili noticed and pushed it in his direction. "Uh, thanks. Anyway, I'll conduct readiness drills, as always, Captain."
"Chef?"
"Shelby mentioned provisions," Will echoed, "I'll have Ensign O'Day take the inventory. And, uh, we may need someone to assist if we need to start figuring out rationing and the like, I'm sorry to say."
"Perhaps someone from the Science Department could assist," Jonathan suggested. "What about the other ship's database?"
"We haven't opened it yet, sir," Hoshi said, "I will definitely need help with that. Since the Science Department might be otherwise occupied, maybe I could ask for volunteers."
"Good idea," said the captain. "They went through this, or at least it seems that way. They'll probably have ideas about provisions as well."
"Sir," Lili asked, "er, sorry to interrupt, but will we meet the other version of the NX-01 that was kicked back in time?"
"I wish I knew, Ensign."
"Can we get help from someone?" Travis asked. "I mean, we're all looking to help each other. But who's gonna, overall, help all of us?"
"Actually, I'm glad you mentioned that," Archer decided, "I would like to try to get a message through to Daniels. Hoshi, Malcolm, we'll do this together after breakfast."
"Very well, sir," stated Malcolm.
The remainder of the meal passed in relative silence.
=/\=
Once breakfast was finished, Lili tucked the dirty dishes into a cart, ready to bring them back to the galley in order to load them into the sanitizer. She looked up when she saw Malcolm Reed hovering. "Sir?"
"I, uh, Ensign, what Charlotte said, it was, uh, it was you and I."
"I know," she said, "we, uh; we don't know each other that well. Maybe we should get better acquainted. Uh, sir."
"We probably should."
"Uh, sir, can I ask – why didn't you eat your eggs? Were they cold?"
"No, Ensign."
"You don't like cheese," she said, "come to the galley with me and I'll make you plain eggs."
"You don't have to," he said.
"It's all right," she replied. She peered at him. "Wait – you've asked for sandwiches with cheese, and I've made them for you. It's something else, then, isn't it? And don't tell me you're watching your weight, because I'm positive that you don't have to."
"Can, uh," he glanced around nervously although they were alone in the room, "can you keep a secret?"
"Absolutely."
"I have, it's rather embarrassing. I have a condition called lactose intolerance."
"Oh!" she said. "Now it all makes sense. Tell ya what. I can announce rather loudly whenever something's got dairy in it. I can make it look like I'm telling the vegans or the folks who keep kosher. You listen for that, all right? And either eat vegan for that meal or, um, I can probably whip you up something small on those nights. But, uh, you've gotta do something for me."
"Oh?"
"You'd need to keep that secret, Lieutenant. Otherwise, everyone's gonna want a special order."
They began walking to the galley together. "Thank you for understanding. Perhaps, uh, perhaps this is how we bond," he said. They both reddened.
He held the door for her as she backed the cart in. She looked at him after the door closed again. "This is all so damnably awkward now. I don't know, heh, what the future will bring, but can we at least be friends? I think for now that'll be easier." She held out her right hand.
He shook her hand, lingering just a little bit. "Absolutely."
She put the dishes into the sanitizer and then set about making him a small dish of plain scrambled eggs. He sat on a stool in the galley and watched her work and, just a little bit, again wondered what she looked like under her chef's whites.
=/\=
There was a communications chime after a while. Malcolm flipped open his communicator as he swallowed the last of the scrambled eggs. "Reed here."
"Let's go to Cabin E-14," said Captain Archer.
"Right away, sir. Reed out." He got up. "I, uh, I have to go. This was very good. But, uh, everything you make is, it's delectable."
"Why, thank you, Lieutenant," she said. A bell dinged, signifying that the sanitizer had completed its cycle, and there were clean dishes to be unloaded. "I've got stuff to do, too. See ya."
He left, and she chuckled to herself. "Delectable, eh?"
=/\=
At Richard Daniels's old cabin, Malcolm turned the dial in the right combination so as to get the huge magnetic lock off the door. He hit the door panel and waited for Jonathan and Hoshi to enter before he did.
Jonathan began going through drawers. One had clean socks in it. Another had clean undershorts. Hoshi started looking around the desk. Malcolm just stood there, feeling strange about ransacking the man's quarters, although he did turn on a scanner, searching for anomalous radiation.
Jonathan finally touched something inside the tee shirt drawer. "Hang on; I think I've got something." He pulled it out and Malcolm immediately started scanning it. The captain turned it over in his hands a few times. "It's a metal disk."
"But there's no engraving on it, at least nothing I can spot," Hoshi said, "it's almost like a slug, you know, a coin was stamped out but the year and the decoration and all that kinda stuff, it never made it onto this piece."
"Huh," Archer said.
=/\=
In 3099, Richard Daniels was interviewing two job candidates for the Temporal Integrity Commission's Human Unit. One was the fully human engineer, Levi Cavendish.
The other was a half-human, half-Witannen woman named Otra D'Angelo. Her Witannen heritage was readily apparent as she had chavecoi – they resembled flowers – growing from her scalp.
The chavecoi dipped and turned and tangled and detangled themselves as they turned various shades, first of pink, then blue, and then violet. They moved independently, and Otra could not control them.
About the only thing that betrayed Otra's human parentage, apart from the existence of a last name, was the fact that she didn't have a pureblooded Witannen's little vestigial wings.
They had been talking about working conditions. "And there are bunks here," Rick was saying, "in case the timeline really goes caca, as Kevin O'Connor says. We're outside of time here – actually, anyone who works here is set up that way. So we can fix even problems that might otherwise wipe us from existence. Rather handy, eh? But everyone else, they're not so lucky, I'm afraid."
"Seeing temporal alternatives," Otra said, "it can be confusing at times. Perhaps being extratemporal will help to keep me from getting so addled."
"Well, I dunno," said Rick, and then he noticed that her eyes had rolled into the back of her head. Alarmed, he asked Cavendish, "What the hell is going on? Should I get the Department's doctor?" His finger hovered over the tiny communicator implanted behind his left ear, ready to call Doctor Boris Yarin.
"Nah," said Cavendish, "she's just having a vision. She'll snap out of it in a minute or so."
Alarms began to go off as the computer system started to catch up with Otra. And, in her unconscious state, she saw a ship that looked superficially like an octopus. It devoured planets whole and, somehow she determined, it spat out sentient slaves of several species – more specifically, Ikaaran, Xyrillian and human.
=/\=
Back on the newer NX-01, Archer, Reed and Sato were still looking at the metal disc. "Impressions?" Jonathan finally asked.
"If I had a clue as to what to look for, or what not to look for, I might be able to say something constructive," Hoshi replied. "But this just looks like a metal slug."
"Agreed," said Malcolm, "but, just in case, we might want to place it back exactly where we found it."
Jonathan put it back.
=/\=
And in 3099, Otra snapped out of it, as expected. "I, I think it's gone back," she said.
And, sure enough, the computers caught up and, they too, reported that the timeline, such as it was, had been restored. At least, when it came to the temporal transmitter, for that was what that seemingly innocuous metal slug really was.
=/\=
On the Bridge, they were having much better luck. The task was to determine the year and the date to the highest possible degree of accuracy. First, Commander T'Pol, along with Science Crewman Diana Jones, cursorily checked the database that had been sent over by the other ship.
"It's tempting to just surf around and check out everything in that database," Diana said.
"That would not be a productive use of our time right now," replied the Vulcan. Finally, T'Pol spotted the answer, amidst the logs. "2037, namely, it was April the nineteenth."
"But it says here that you determined it by calculating against known Xyrillian dates. We don't have that."
"Correct. However, there can be some comparison of stellar positioning." They had been in the situation room at the back of the Bridge and returned to their stations as Ensign Aidan MacKenzie got up from the Captain's Chair and walked over to the Tactical station.
"Mister Mayweather," T'Pol commanded, "compare the data I am about to transmit to you, to current stellar positioning."
"Right away," replied the pilot. He set to work as soon as he received the data.
"Yanno," said Sandra Sloane from the Communications station, where she was filling in for Hoshi, "if ya ask me, I'd say you were going about it all wrong."
"Sandra!" Diana exclaimed.
"No, I wish to hear this," was the cool Vulcan response. "Where do you believe there was an error?"
"Can't we just," Sandra said, and she sounded smug and more than a little exasperated, as if she were dealing with an uncooperative child for the umpteenth time, "listen to broadcasts from Earth or Vulcan?"
The Vulcan eyebrow was raised. "We'll do as you suggest. Begin with Earth broadcasts."
As Sandra worked her equipment to try to pick up broadcasts, Travis completed his task. "I'd say it's 2037," he said, "but it's later. Things are close but it isn't perfect – and it should be. We definitely didn't go back to the exact same day, or anything like that."
Sandra tapped on her earpiece. "Aha! I got it! Audio only, I'm afraid. It's because of the distance."
"Very well," allowed T'Pol, "we will listen."
The doors swished open as Captain Archer, Hoshi and Malcolm returned to duty. From the Communications station, the broadcast could be heard.
"Heavy bombardment on the Gulf Coast continued, as old oil drilling platforms took a pounding. Eco-warriors are reportedly destroying or commandeering any known remaining oil or coal."
The announcer paused as, perhaps, a page was flipped or a new computer screen was brought up. "In other news, French forces celebrated Bastille Day by distributing brioche to starving Parisians. 'Let them eat cake', indeed …"
"Isn't Bastille Day on July the fourteenth?" Malcolm asked.
"Yes," Hoshi confirmed, "so it's either the fourteenth or the fifteenth."
"Let's, uh," the captain thought for a moment, "let's assume it's the fourteenth, since the news reader didn't mention anything about the French holiday being celebrated yesterday."
"That is a logical inference," T'Pol conceded.
Archer commanded, "I'd like the intercom, please, Hoshi." Sandra and Aidan were still on the Bridge. He addressed them. "Thanks again. You're going to be doing Bridge duty more, I figure, as the senior staff will need to meet about this tomorrow."
"Go ahead, Captain," said Hoshi.
"All hands, this is the captain. We have, to a high degree of accuracy, determined the correct date. It's July the fourteenth of 2037." He swallowed a little. "I know you'll have questions. I know I do. The senior staff will meet tomorrow. We will start to think about what to do, not only about our situation, but also with reference to the database that Charlotte Archer," he smiled for a second upon saying her name, "forwarded to us. There's gold in there; we are certain of that. But we want to utilize it effectively. You are a smart, effective crew. We will get through this, together. Thank you."
Hoshi cut the sound and he looked around the Bridge and sighed. "I'm going to be in my Ready Room for a while. T'Pol, you have the Bridge."
He went in, sat down, and put his head in his hands, thinking about what to do next.
=/\=
Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, July fourteenth, 2037
I hope I can find some wisdom in that database. There must be something beyond personnel files and birth and death and marriage records. We are later than they were, but not by much.
=/\=
Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, July fourteenth, 2037
Going into Daniels's quarters was one thing, but we rifled through the man's undergarments drawer! It seems beyond the pale, but what can we do? It feels like a compromising of integrity.
=/\=
Jay Hayes's Personal Log, July fourteenth, 2037
I suppose I should talk to Lili O'Day, although God knows what it would be about. "Hi – we're supposed to get married." God, how ridiculous would that sound, particularly as, it seems, she left me. I wish I knew what to say and do. How do you begin?
=/\=
Daniel Chang's Personal Log, July fourteenth, 2037
So I ended up with Sandra? That witch?!
=/\=
Hoshi Sato's Personal Log, July fourteenth, 2037
I married the Quartermaster? Really?