Personal log, stardate 85061.

I returned to Admiral Drake. I told him that our mission was a success, but how close a call it was to our being discovered, and how I was extremely uneasy with the concept of the mission. He dismissed my concerns. I told him about the findings regarding Driffen's Comet. He considered a minute, and then told me that my new assignment was to go back in time and destroy Driffen's Comet before it ever caused a problem for Kirk or today.

I objected strongly to this. One of the things I learned early in Starfleet Academy was to own your personal limitations. My career might be spectacular — and Admiral Drake told me that it most certainly is — but I'm no Kirk. I'm no Picard. I do not want to put myself into a situation where my actions would change the fate of the entire Federation — at least not this early in my career.

Admiral Drake again dismissed my concerns. He said that my ship was the only one that knew of the effects of Driffen's Comet, that it must be me to go for purposes of secrecy. I told him that I had already recorded the events of the past few days in my captain's log. Captain's logs are public record, and my last one was sent automatically to Starfleet Command when I opened the connection to Drake. Therefore, since with time travel there is no deadline, he should have no problem requisitioning a starship with a more experienced crew to perform this task. If he had cleared it with Temporal Investigations like he said, anyone could do it.

He vehemently refused my arguments. I was the only captain in the entire fleet who was qualified for a time-travel mission like this, stuff like that. Bullshit. I had a hunch. I asked to see a copy of the communications with Temporal Investigations authorizing this mission. He blurted out (rather accidentally, I presume) how there was no authorization. That would make my embarking on this mission an offense worthy of court-martial. Temporal manipulation was the most serious charge that could be brought against a Starfleet officer. I told him this, too.

At this point Admiral Drake snapped. He said that if I said another word, unless I agree to take on the time-travel mission immediately, I would be relieved as captain of the ShiNarva and the new captain would do this. I was alarmed, as Admiral Drake intended, but he did not make me lose control like he thought I might have done. I agreed, quite politely. What I didn't tell him is that I would save a record of this call, and all further communications with him, and all the logs for our mission, and I would submit them to Temporal Investigations as soon as we got back. I even called an assembly of the crew and told them all this. They were all very afraid for their careers, just like Drake tried to make me, but they were very proud when I said I am doing this only for the purpose of reporting Drake. Everyone agreed to make testimony with their experiences if it ever would be required. The most likely route Drake would take to deny the charges is to claim that I had fabricated the entire thing. By doing this beforehand, I would cut that argument off at the knees.

I would not tell the Admiral about this, of course. Nor would I make any statement of my crew's willingness to back me; that was to be my secret weapon when this went to court, because I knew it was going to go to court. I had made Admiral Drake angry by defying him, and what I said earlier about never pissing off the captain, applies just as much to never pissing off the admiral.

But with that said, I returned to my ready room and took Admiral Drake's waiting message. He instructed me to go to a point in the Beta Quadrant that, as far as I could recall, was in the middle of deep space. Nothing's there, as Anne would tell me later. Drake told me that there was a star here that was kept off the official records. This was because its stellar geometry makes it very easy to perform the time-travel technique called the slingshot maneuver.

First invented by James Kirk during the infamous whale incident over a hundred years ago, it involved flying a starship at a very precise trajectory, straight into a star with the shields down. At a very precise moment, we were to suddenly angle the ship and invoke our warp drive. This would cause our velocity to increase beyond instrument limits, and if we travelled in a counterclockwise direction around the star, would transport us back in time. If we were to travel in a clockwise direction, we would be transported to the future, which gives us an easy way of returning home after this entire mess is over. The velocity would render the entire crew unconscious, so we must be very precise in how we program our computer so that we don't overshoot the target time period.

But we did it anyways, and Anne was up to the task. In the end it turned out we didn't need our computer; we were not rendered unconscious like we were told we would be. Flabbergasted, I contacted Zarva and she told me that two hundred years' worth of inertial dampener research must have counteracted the acceleration. Something interesting to keep in our back pockets.

Before we left, Admiral Drake had transmitted to us plans of a sensor baffle that would make us appear to all senses to be a Klingon D-7 battle cruiser. It does not work at very close range; if we were to dock somewhere, our true appearance would be visible. With this set, we used our long-range sensors to detect the location of Driffen's Comet. Fly there, avoid being encountered, destroy the comet, head home. Unfortunately — and very predictably — we ran into trouble right off the bat.

We were intercepted by a Constitution-class starship. NCC-1719, the USS Reuben James. This, at least, would be easier. Our bridge would not appear Klingon, and we certainly weren't Klingons, so if the Reuben James were to hail us I could negotiate with them. Unfortunately, this did not happen. All we got was a voice transmission that said the following:

"Attention, unidentified Klingon ship. I am Commodore Jacob Ross, in command of the USS Reuben James. We have been searching for a Klingon vessel reported to have attacked a colony in the Gliese system. You fit the description we are looking for. Stand down and prepare to be boarded."

I tried to hail them, but the Reuben James immediately opened fire. Elise set to evasive maneuvers. During our trip to the unlogged star where we made our jump back in time, I had set T'Vrell up with a detailed historical log of this sector in this period of time, so we could quickly tell how history was supposed to be. She said that Admiral James Ross would take command of the K-7 station as he approached retirement age. We could not destroy him, and I did not want to do so in the first place. During the trip I also had the phaser systems rebuilt so that they would not fire shots capable of destroying a vessel, only disabling it. I ordered open-fire immediately, and to restrict our movement profile to that of a period D-7. The weapons signatures of our phasers had been modified as well, so they would be as powerful as they usually are but appear to be standard Klingon weapons to all scans.

We quickly disabled the Reuben James, and then went to warp. Commodore Ross would be very confused as to why a Klingon ship declined to destroy them and left the area, a very un-Klingon-like thing to do, but that is what must be done. If we were to use our full 25th-century technology, we would make it look like the Klingons had a D-7 on their side with technology far superior to what was known, which the Federation would want to try to apprehend, eventually causing severe disruption to Earth–Qo'noS relations as the Federation keeps demanding information on the nonexistent Klingon vessel. Not good for the timeline.

Our course took us past Drozana Station again. When we were passing by we picked up a distress signal from the station. I cursed inwardly, as I should have thought of this. The Enterprise was still there, Starfleet still couldn't detect the Devidians, and they were still winning their fight against the Starfleet crew. We had to do something.

I beamed over with a full security squad, all equipped with phaser rifles set to hit Devidians. There wasn't time to change into period uniforms, but I didn't think we would be there for very long. We materialized on the station close to where we docked in the 25th century. Devidians were everywhere. We mowed them down, one after another. There were six groups in all, all across the promenade level. We had just gotten the last one when I heard crashing sounds from within a door. I opened the door. A Klingon crew and a Starfleet crew were enjoying that most interesting form of shore leave together: the bar brawl. Now that the screaming outside was done, they continued to tussle. I was ready to stun them all just to get the fight to stop. Since none of them responded when I called to them, I ended up doing just that. After a few of the Starfleet crew went down, the rest stopped fighting. The Klingons, of course, did not.

The Starfleet crew, all lower-ranked personnel from the USS Enterprise, said that the fight broke out when some strange creature grabbed Scotty and two other crew and pulled them into the next room. The inebriated Starfleet crew blamed the equally inebriated Klingon crew, and the fight came naturally from there.

This was bad news. I knew who Scotty was, and I need to get him back to ensure the Devidian doesn't alter the timeline himself by killing Montgomery Scott. The room next door to the bar was what in my time would have been the station casino. Currently, however, it was unoccupied, and large metal gratings were pulled down from the ceiling to isolate the area. There was a hole in the surface where the Devidian must have pulled Scott through. I clambered inside.

Scotty and the other two Starfleet officers were there, dazed, as this one really large Devidian fed on their brains. Somehow, I knew this one is the leader. I called over to him and demanded that he stop. "I am the Shrouded Phantasm", he said. "We hunger. We must feed! Do not attempt to stop us. Leave this place immediately, or I will create a time distortion that will destroy the entire station."

Could Devidians do that? Nevertheless, as far as I could tell this was the last Devidian still alive. I couldn't afford to call his bluff on his claim to destroy the station. So I redirected things instead by telling him that he was the only Devidian on the station who was still alive. He was not concerned. He said that countless more like him can come here after him thanks to "the large purple stone" that was passing by the station. I was running out of patience with the guy. I deliberately insulted him. While he was busy retorting, I grabbed and fired my phaser rifle. The Shrouded Phantasm was dead.

Fortunately, Scotty and the other crew were not permanently harmed, and as soon as the Devidian died they snapped out of their stupor. Scotty came over to me.

"Thanks for the help, friend. Heavens to Betsy, what are these things? Damn spirit snuck up on me. I was the only person who noticed the high level of triolic radiation that is permeating the area; everyone else wanted to go to the bar. I was working on modifying the shields to stop it when I was grabbed from behind. Care to help me?"

I edged backwards. While he will not recognize the exact design, Scotty had undoubtably noticed by now that I was wearing a Starfleet uniform. I wanted to get out of there so I wouldn't contaminate the timeline further. In all the books I read about Montgomery Scott, it was said he had a very long memory, and that's what made him such a good engineer. Whatever happened here he would most likely remember for the rest of his life. But Scotty spoke first.

"Come on, lassie! We've got to get going!"

I motioned him to exit the closed area, and tried to stay behind so I could call for beamout, but Scotty did not let me do this. He insisted that I go first. Grumbling, I went first, and then started after Scott. We needed to go back to the deflector emitters, which were at the edge of the station, not far from where the ShiNarva did, and will, park. Scott tried to make some conversation as we traveled.

"What are those blasted things?"

"Devidians. They're a species that comes from a faraway system. They live in the subspace membrane and feed on people by draining their life energy."

"Sounds nasty." Scott then turned the conversation the one subject I wanted to avoid the most. "That's a funny uniform you have on there. What ship are you assigned to?"

"Does it really matter?" was the best that I could do.

"Well, all right, if you want to be all secretive about it, fine. Be my guest."

Scotty was offended, but not very badly. He quickly changed the subject. "I mean, I come here for a few days of some much needed shore leave, and the next thing I know these crazy energy beings are overrunning everything!"

But, thankfully, by now we've reached the deflector emitter. The panel was already disassembled and Scotty's engineering tools were scattered all over the floor. He bent over to examine his work, and became very agitated.

"For God's sake, look at this! I completely forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"The reason I was headed back that way is because I needed to find someone who could get me a mark-II quantum flux regulator. It's the one piece of equipment that I need to build these shield modifications that I don't have."

"I'll take care of it."

"Are you certain, lassie?"

"Yes, I am quite certain. I'll be back soon."

The best I could do to extricate myself from the situation. Even though it meant we were stuck on Drozana Station for longer, and interacting with historical figures more. My team and I ran back down the hallway to the promenade area.

There was a shop that sold engineering parts. I ran in and looked for the proprietor. There she was, a female human, cowering behind a table and whimpering. I bent down to talk to her.

"What's wrong?"

"What were those things!? They were floating, and then one touched me and I felt so weak, and then it lifted me up, and… It was horrible!"

"I'm sorry to hear that. I can tell you with certainty that those things are now gone."

"That doesn't matter. I'm packing up my things and going back to Sherman's Planet!"

"Sherman's Planet?"

"Much safer there, wouldn't you agree?"

"Look, you can do whatever you want. I just need one specific part from your inventory and then I'll never bother you again."

"But I can't! I can't I can't I can't!"

"You don't understand. Those things are—"

"I don't care about those things. I'm too upset right now to care about anything!"

The shopkeeper was hysterical. I needed to find something to calm her down with. I thought that maybe a drink would help. I therefore went back to the bar, which had refilled with people after the bar fight ended. I went straight to the bartender.

"I need a drink, now. It's vitally important."

"A drink? Pah! Almost every species in the galaxy has drinks. Most worlds have multiple variations. And everyone else thinks that the one specific formula their grandmother used is superior to everything else in the galaxy." He sighed. "Look, I tend bar at a commerce station near a busy trade route. It's my job to make you anything you want, but you have to be specific. I can get you 14,647 different kinds of drink, 3,750 more if you're Bolian."

"Bolian?"

"Bolian physiology is able to consume more variations of alcoholic drinks than any other species known to science." Seeing my continued blank expression, the bartender sighed. "One of the waitresses over there knows far more about matching drinks to customers than I do. Why don't you go ask her?"

"Sounds like a good idea. I'll be right back."

So I walked over to the scantily clad bartender (more clothed that that Dabo girl was). She was a female Orion, who was sitting next to a human in a Starfleet uniform. The two appeared to be dating. Sure enough, they were. Unfortunately, I could not pull the Orion's attention away from her lover.

At a loss for ideas, I remembered that the Enterprise was in the middle of a two-week layover here. Maybe one of the Enterprise crew would have a better idea. And if I wanted to talk alcoholic drinks, there was one man here who knew more about alcohol than anyone else in Starfleet: Montgomery Scott. I went back to him and inquired about the shopkeeper and what kind of drinks she likes. Scotty told me that he doesn't know her favorite, but he did remember she tried these drinks:

"An Alvanian Brandy, too salty for her taste but she liked the drop of honey on top. Garnishes get in the way of a fine beverage, if you ask me. Klingon Bloodwine, one time. She was feeling under a bit the weather. She liked the fact that it was served warm, but it was way too much alcohol for her system to handle. A girl that size needs something with a little less kick.

"Denevian Mead. One of the sweetest drinks I've tried. Terrible — it's like drinking syrup! She hated the taste and the wee bairn broke out into hives because she was allergic to the fruit garnish. I'm never buying one of those again!

"Firewine. Like bloodwine, but more watered down. She got into a drinking contest with a Klingon one night, and this was the drink that he chose. The next morning, after she picked herself up off the floor, she said that the firewine was so spicy it felt like it was burning a hole in her stomach. I ended up sending her to Bones just to make her stop worrying. And she said that drinking from those large, shallow bowls makes her feel like someone's pet targ!

"Martinis. She likes her martinis served as cold as possible, but she tends to nurse her drinks, so by the time she's drunken all of it it's reached room temperature.

"Skagaran whiskey. Just the right amount of kick, but she hates the wee shot glasses and the silly paper umbrellas. Whoever heard of putting a paper umbrella in a glass of whiskey! If I ever go to Skagara, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind, let me tell you that!"

None of this helped me very much.

"Oh, and Samarian Sunsets! She loves those."

Now here is something I can work with.

"Tell me more about those."

"She loves the spicy taste. She's been pestering the bartender every time we went to add a garnish to it to make it last longer, but he won't because then it won't be a Samarian Sunset anymore."

"I see."

With that, we turned and started back to the bar. One of the security officers with me said he was good at mental puzzles, and he had already formulated the best drink for the shopkeeper.

"Hot and sour, just a little pick-me-up, in a stemmed glass with a drop of honey."

I told the bartender that was what we wanted, word for word. He created something custom just for me. I thanked him for it, put the drink on my tab, and went back to the parts shop.

The shopkeeper, who was still upset, totally adored the drink I brought her. It was perfect. After consuming it, she gave me a mark-II quantum flux regulator without charge as a thank-you.

Returning to Scotty again, I gave him the part.

"The right tool for the right job! I'll start making the adjustments, but I don't know if I have enough time. The energy level keeps rising, and there's only so far I can push the shields. You canna change the laws of physics!"

I chuckled at that last part. Montgomery Scott was legendary for doing just that, time and time again. I called for beamout.

Back on board the ShiNarva, I set course for Driffen's Comet. It was clear that for the Devidians to be stopped, I needed to destroy the comet. Once I arrived (it was very close by, astronomically speaking) I started to fire photon torpedoes at it, with the intent of pulverizing it. Unfortunately, before I could get very far, I was interrupted. An armada of D-7 cruisers dropped out of warp, and approached us. The head ship hailed us, audio only.

"Ah, a ship from the House of Duras! I am B'vet son of Warat and leader of my House. My brother died due to Duras treachery. I will avenge his death with the destruction of a hundred Duras ships. Prepare to die!"

T'Vrell hurriedly confirmed that our holographic disguise had the livery of the House of Duras. Rather poor taste on Drake's part, given how notoriously treacherous the Duras family was. But it is what it is.

We needed to focus on destroying the comet, but we had to maintain evasive maneuvers to keep out of the way of the Klingon disruptors. It was very tense. After we took a hit, the Klingon vessels just stopped. B'vet hailed me again.

"Unidentified Starfleet vessel, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but your ship is clearly far more powerful than anything I've seen before in my life. I will therefore seize it in the name of the Empire. Prepare to be boarded!"

So our holographic disguise was gone. The Klingon ships now shot to try to disable us. We needed every torpedo we had to destroy the comet, but we had very little time to aim and fire them. Our situation was untenable, because the more evasive maneuvers we needed, the longer it would take to break up the comet and end the Devidian incursion. For all we knew Drozana Station was being overrun by Devidians again right now. And I could see Anne starting to slip. The Klingon pilots were better than she was, and she would not be able to keep us out of the line of fire for much longer.

But our deliverance then came as the USS Enterprise dropped out of warp and opened fire on the Klingon fleet. Elise was able to quickly pivot back towards the destruction of the comet. It took every torpedo we had, but eventually we blew the comet into gravel so small that we couldn't pick up any noticeable triolic radiation coming out of it. Our mission was complete.

But James T. Kirk was hailing our vessel, and his signal indicated that he wanted visual communications. There was no way out of it any longer. I had to reveal myself to Kirk and contaminate the timeline. I reluctantly ordered visual.

Kirk was surprisingly nonchalant about seeing the bridge of a Starfleet vessel foreign to his time. He said that his men told him about the strange intrusion in the station's computer core, how the problem crippled the entire system but then just as suddenly went away. He told us about our little undercover incursion onto the station. Scotty had told him about the strange people who helped him with the shield repairs. And he told us how my actions had saved countless lives, both in the present and apparently his future as well.

I was still very sullen, as none of this was in Captain Kirk's logs for the period; I had checked. Our very presence here was changing the course of history, giving the Federation early knowledge about Devidians and triolic radiation. These things will not be discovered until 2368. When Kirk asked me what was wrong, I explained to him our Temporal Prime Directive and how my presence here was contaminating the timeline to an unacceptable degree. But Kirk was not worried. He said that none of these events would go in his or anyone else's logs. The future Starfleet officers who helped Scott would remain his secret. And no one would make any scans of the ShiNarva. I brightened considerably when I heard this, as now I knew why there was no mention of the incident in Kirk's logs.

We chatted for a bit about Kirk's unprecedented career, and I joked (but did not state directly) how his record for youngest ship captain would be broken by my time period. He seemed a little concerned about that, but he said it was nothing, and he would keep his word regarding the logs. We parted ways amiably, and I set a course for the unmapped star where we performed the slingshot maneuver.

When we returned to our time, Admiral Drake was on the line immediately asking about the success of my mission. I told him that it was a complete victory, and how no record of our existence was left in the past. To my annoyance, he then thanked me for my service and sent me on my way. But I still remembered the things I said to my crew about this assignment. I would still follow up on that.

I returned to Earth and went to the Department of Temporal Investigations to give them my report in person. I met with Agents Dulmur and Lucsly, apparently the public face of the secretive organization. They were not shocked in the slightest when I delivered my evidence of how Admiral Drake had ordered us to travel back into the past, in violation of every rule in the book. They said that Admiral Drake was already on their radar, and had been for a long time now. They actually had enough information to convict him of temporal crimes many times over. I asked them why they didn't follow through, and they told me that they were also investigating a mysterious group of co-conspirators named "Section 31", apparently the DTI's archenemy.

I asked what Section 31 was, and they told me it was classified. However, they did give me some advice. If I was ever to work with a Section 31 agent, the best thing to do would be to interrupt their plans and get them off the ship as soon as possible. I asked what were the signs of a Section 31 agent. They said, "Your gut is the only sign you have." I wish I knew what this meant.

Computer, end recording.