Chapter Eight: 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

Was she dead? Charlie laid on the cold tile, disoriented and confused as chaos erupted around her. She blearily blinked her eyes open, a silent void while the world was anything but calm. Smoke hung lazily in the air as yellow and red alarms flashed although she couldn't hear them. She felt the vibrations of running feet and smell the sulfuric odor of gun smoke. She reached up and gently prodded the lump of the back of her head, her fingers coming back sticky as a small amount of blood coated her fingertips. She stared at it, her brows drawn low as the pain began to pulse in her head. No, she wasn't dead. Not yet at least.

Like coming out of a dream, she slowly began to hear shouting and then the alarms blaring, all of it pounding through her skull in agonizing reverberations. With a groan, she tried to get up, her shoulder burning while finally noticing the black caped individuals rushing into the room and toward her parents' research. She had just caught a glimpse of a white mask, the image of a black sphere ringed like a total eclipse on the forehead when arms wrapped around her shoulders. Before she knew it, she was thrown behind one of the long metal tables that had been blown to the side, broken glass crunching on the floor as she propped her back against the cold steel.

"Where are you hurt?" It was McCoy, all three of him.

"My, uh, head." She was pulled forward as he dug through her hair.

"You've a good goose egg, but the cut's small. How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Which one of you?" she mumbled with a wince.

"Cute, Spitfire. Focus on one."

"Four?"

McCoy glanced at the three fingers he was holding up. "Ok, that's wrong. Dammit for being in the stone ages. I don't have my med kit with me."

" 'Is ok. 'Is not that bad."

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Wha'? I'm fine," she blinked blearily at him as the three McCoys became two then slowly faded to one.

"Sure, I'm convinced." He clearly wasn't.

As he continued to grumble, searching around for anything he could use, Charlie's head cleared. The pain was still there, but it was dimming to tolerable levels. That's when she heard unmistakable the pop! pop! pop! of 21st century firearms.

Both she and McCoy dropped to the ground, the whoosh of bullets whizzing over their heads above the table. Charlie peaked around the corner, two of the intruders behind the tubular device in the center of the room providing cover fire so their comrades could attempt to make their way to the back of the room and the computers housed there. She couldn't see the exact type of weapon in their hand, but they definitely had automatic rifles.

She ducked back behind the table, her mind running a thousand miles a second as she tried to figure out how they were going to get out of this mess. There was an answer to the first-round of fire, Charlie spotting her father and mother to the left, both with their standard issued pistols out and pointed at the black caped attackers. They ducked down behind the computer desk they occupied, bullets raining around them.

"We got to get out of here. Where's Jim and Rachel?" Charlie said to McCoy as they lay prone on their stomachs.

"Opposite wall. When the blast hit, they went one way, me and your parents the other. You took most the hit."

"So that's why my shoulder is burning," she grumbled. "Along with my head."

She searched the wall closest to them for any weapon or tool she could use. Improvise, adapt, overcome. That's when she saw the giant red box on the wall, big bold letters on the front saying 'AED.' She grinned as an idea clicked in her head.

"Hey, McCoy, know how to use a defibrillator?"

"One from this century? No clue. Why?"

She jutted her chin toward the wall just as bullets sprayed into it. Apparently, the group wasn't trying to kill them, just keep them pinned.

"Ah hell. You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Charlie just grinned. "Watch my back?"

"Someone's got to," he griped.

McCoy shuffled until he got a good view of shooters. When Rachel and Kirk drew their attention, McCoy gestured for Charlie to move.

She soldier crawled over to the wall, pausing to look back over her shoulder to make sure they couldn't see her movement. Her elbows hurt as she dug them into the cold tile, the pull on her shoulder causing a hiss as it tugged on raw skin. Her head still pounded, but training had her compartmentalizing the pain away. She had a task, and the lives of her family depended on her.

After only a few moments, she was next to the white wall, the appliance just feet above her head. She glanced back and was relieved that at least on the ground, the attackers still couldn't see her. She sat up behind a cabinet, blocked from the offenders' sight, but close to the defibrillator. She caught her father's eye, and when he glanced at what she was aiming for, he gave a brief nod, shooting a couple rounds over his shoulder to draw their fire. Charlie paused a moment before she snapped up, grabbed the machine, and dropped back down before they noticed.

With a nod to McCoy, she slid it across the floor where he caught it and she crawled back. Heading to the other end of the table, Charlie could see that men in the robes were inching their way closer to the back computers, her parents' weapons slowly loosing ammo as they went through another clip.

"Great, Spitfire. Now what do we do?"

Charlie took the small appliance from McCoy and propped it in her lap. She ripped it open, surprised that it didn't start issuing orders the way other ones had that she'd come across. But then remembering where she was, they probably had the real thing somewhere in the room. She pulled out the sticky pads and prepped them best she could. Once everything was done and beginning to charge, she turned back to McCoy.

"Wish me luck?"

"He's going to kill me if something happens to you, you know that right?"

Charlie smirked, edging around the table until she was as close as possible. "Then create a distraction."

"With what?" he shouted, drawing the attention of the two by the main machine in the room. It was just what Charlie needed. Without second guessing herself, Charlie leapt from behind the table and slid cross the tile until she was under the metal base. Slapping the pads onto the bottom, she pressed the button and then made sure not a single part of her was touching it. Within seconds she heard an unmistakable pop, followed by several screams as the men who had been firing on her family collapsed, their weapons dropping in the process.

Charlie quickly grabbed one, and slid it to Rachel, who took up position while she grabbed the other. Her sister was able to provide cover fire as Charlie ran and then dove over the computer desk her parents were hiding behind.

"Here," she handed the weapon to her father, who with a rare look of admiration began to advance on the group, Rachel and Jim following his lead and leaving Charlie with her mother

"Ok, I bought us some time, but what do we do now?" she asked her mother.

"I've radioed down to base, they should be sending in a tactical team any minute now. How the hell did they get in?!"

"No idea, but you guys may want to make sure all of your entrances are supervised. Radio towers may not be the best camouflage."

Her mother snorted. "Told them to fix that ages ago."

"Who they hell are these people. What do they want?"

"They're called the Black Sun."

Charlie turned back to her mother, the battle escalating with each passing minute.

"The who?"

Margaret sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the chaos before she dipped her head, coming to some sort of conclusion.

"Charlie, I wasn't fully honest with you. The augments are not just for ISIS."

Charlie paused, her brows low.

"What are you talking about?"

Margaret sighed, clearly torn by what she needed to say. "It's something your father and I should have told you about years ago. This is our mistake that you're not prepared, but there's little choice now." She glanced over the desk before she gave Charlie her full attention. "We're trying to stop another force from unleashing chaos within our world. One that's more powerful than anything you could imagine."

"And what's that?"

"They're called the Black Sun. They're a group hell bent on chaos. We've gotten word that they're trying to impart a . . . substance that has the ability to control the mind of anyone it's injected into. Politicians, soldiers, everyday people. We've learned through intelligence that ISIS is a front for them."

"Are you seriously trying to make me believe some Illuminati shit in the middle of a firefight."

"I'm trying to get you to understand that there's more at stake. Who do you think introduced you to Star Trek? I know about the Federation, and a lot of what you've probably seen. What we're doing is bigger than that."

Just then, the base's security arrived, twenty men and women armed to the teeth and in attack formation. They advanced slowly into the room, their focused on the back corner where the intruders had holed out – one of them pulling information from the computer as the others provided cover fire.

Charlie turned back to her mother. "What the hell could be bigger than the Federation?"

"The entire galaxy." Charlie blinked in disbelief. "Ok, listen. This group is delimited by the Vril," Margaret continued as Charlie cocked her head, looking at her mother like she sprouted three heads. "I know you don't know who or what that is but know this; if they get the power they so desperately want now, you won't have the Federation to go back to."

Charlie blinked, the fight momentarily forgotten as she stared into her mother's knowing eyes. "How did you—"

"Charlotte, I'm your mother. I know there's a lot you don't think I understand about you, but I see you, as you are now. I don't know everything you went through there, but I see how it's changed you, and I know that's where you belong."

Tears welled up in her dark brown eyes. Tears of hope, and acceptance, and understanding.

Those tears changed, however, when a shout of pain was heard. A shout that caused Charlie's heart to involuntarily drop.

She turned and saw the man collapsed on the ground, his gun just out of reach from his hand.

"DADDY!"

Margaret grabbed the sides of Charlie's head, her hands shaking and her face white.

"Charlie, get your friends and your sister, and get out of here. Rachel knows where my plane is. Tell her to take you to BK. She'll know what that means."

"I can't leave you—"

"Get out of here! That's an order."

"But mom!"

"NO! I don't want you caught up in this. There's too much." Her green eyes flickered over to her husband, and then back to Charlie, scared, but resolute. "Just go, I will get in contact with you through back channels." She pulled her daughter to her chest, squeezing her for all she was worth before she threw Charlie toward the door, the soldiers finally gaining enough ground against the intruders and creating a chance to escape. "Now go!"

With tears in her eyes, Charlie called for the others to follow her. They answered without question, except for Rachel who was fighting tooth and nail in McCoy's arms, shouting that she was going to kill whoever shot their father.

Charlie stood by the door, making sure everyone was out before she followed, turning behind at the last minute to see her mother kneeling next to her father, firing his gun with hell in her eyes. Then the smoke washed across, blocking her view as someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into the dark. As she ran, the tears fell.

They sprinted up the ramp as the alarms continued to sound, their flashing lights leading the way. Charlie and Rachel both knew the base was on lockdown, and if they didn't get out in the next few minutes, they weren't going to get out. Both girls had tears streaming down their cheeks while McCoy and Jim made sure to keep them running. As they spun around the corridor, they saw the other four waiting for them next to the door to their escape.

"Where have you lot been?" Scotty practically shouted. "All hell's breakin' loose!"

"No time," Jim said. "We need to get out of here, now. Everyone, up the ladder. Go!"

There was a mad scramble as they tried to all fit in the small room. Rachel was the first one up, throwing open the door to the mountain top and sprinting to untie the horses.

Charlie and Jim helped guide the crew up the ladder until they were the only two left. Charlie glanced back down the hall, her lip between her teeth.

"You can't go back for them," Jim said, a knowing look in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Charlie turned back to him, tears continuing to swell, but staying within her lashes. With a nod, she began her climb, Jim closing the door behind as he followed her up.

By the time they reached the top, everyone was already in the saddle, Rachel and McCoy holding the reigns for Spirit and Jim's gelding. Spirit must have sensed the urgency, for she was as still as stone, her ears pointed back as she waited for her rider. She knew it was time to run.

And run they did. Even Scotty who was the most hesitant when it came to riding was flying like the wind down the mountain. The moon was out now, full and bright and lighting their way as if it were sunlight. They followed the road this time instead of cutting cross country, the lack of light and steep terrain just asking for a broken horse leg.

By the time they were to the main road, the boys were already waiting, Rachel calling them the minute she was out the door. They didn't ask questions, the urgency in her voice all they needed to know.

"Eric, I need your keys," Charlie said before they were even off the horse.

"Wha— Why?"

Charlie leaped down from Spirit, giving the reigns to Johnny before she twisted, holding her hands out to the young airman who without thinking placed the keys to his SUV in her hands. "Because we have a plane to catch."

"What are you talking about?" Jim asked confusedly as they all began to dismount.

"Mom told me to take her plane and go find BK." She turned to her sister as the boys started loading the horses. "She said you'd know what that means."

"Your mom has a plane?" Sulu's brow rose in surprise.

"Apparently," Charlie shrugged. "Think you can fly it?"

"I can fly anything."

Charlie's attention moved back to her silent sibling. Rachel's red-rimmed eyes were like saucers. Her short black hair was disheveled and even with the dark, Charlie could see she was shaking. They'd grown up in a military family, sure but hearing the stories and actually having to fight were two very different things.

"Rachel," Charlie barked without heat when she didn't answer, her sister finally focusing on her. Charlie gripped her shoulders firmly. "I know you've never experienced this before but dig deep. I need you. Mom and . . . and Dad need you."

"Spitfire, give her second," McCoy stepped in.

"We don't have time," Charlie argued. "For all we know those people could have followed us up there and are tracking us now. Did you not see they were the same as the ones that brought us here?"

"Wait, you saw them?" Scotty asked. "The buggars tha' dropped us here? They attacked you lot?"

"Until Charlie electrocuted them," McCoy added.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "It was only a couple of them."

"Nice," Sulu smiled approvingly.

"If they're who Charlie thinks they are, they could be coming for us. They know we followed them," Uhura added. "I got their chatter through the base's communication system. They didn't sound happy either."

"Then we need to get moving," Jim ordered. "Rachel, where is BK?"

Rachel took a deep breath as she faced the captain. "London. We have to go to London."

Charlie's arms dropped, her face now echoing her sister's. "Why do we have to go to London?" she asked. "What is BK?"

"That's where she lives," Rachel answered. "BK is her codename. Stands for British Kate."

Charlie did jump then. "British Kate? As in my Kate? Kate Aldridge?"

The crew all shared shocked glances as Rachel nodded. "Yes."

"Ok, how do we get to the plane to take us to her?" Sulu asked, just as alarms began blaring in the mountain, helicopters heard in the distance.

"The plane's at the Colorado Spring's airport, next to Peterson," Rachel explained. "But we don't have clearance or access."

"Let us worry about that," Jim affirmed. "After all, we didn't have clearance here either."

"Is there enough space to fit in the vehicle you request?" Spock asked as he skeptically surveyed the large red Chevy Blazer.

Charlie shook the shock away, her hands fisting around the keys.

"Yes, but three will have to ride in the back. I promise I won't kill anyone."

"You better not or my dad will kill me," Eric yelled as he closed the trailer door.

"Load up," Jim ordered, a pointed look directed at Charlie. Everyone scrambled to not have to be the ones in the back, but Scotty, Sulu and Spock ended up drawing the short straws as they folded themselves in.

Charlie jumped in the driver's seat with Jim shotgun. Time was of the essence, and while her sister was a wiz at many things, she drove like a grandmother.

Rachel quickly gave instructions for her crew to take the horses back and take care of them before she jumped into the vehicle. The tires spun and gravel was thrown as Charlie gunned it down the mountain.

It was past midnight and the roads were clear, taking only fifteen minutes to make it to the airport. Rachel directed Charlie down a dark, dirt road toward a hangar bay. There was only a chain-link fence keeping intruders out that Charlie busted through in nothing flat. The tires squealed as she skidded to a stop next to the hangar that Rachel pointed out. Charlie turned to the back seat to order everyone out when she saw the looks directed her way.

"What?"

"Spitfire, if I wasn't a doctor, I'd kill you," McCoy growled, his accent defined more than normal and his hands clutching the handle in a white-knuckle grip.

She rolled her eyes as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Yeah, but did you die?"

"When my stomach is back in its proper place, I'll let you know," Uhura muttered queasily.

"Let your sister drive next time," Jim added as he took the keys out the ignition and passed back to Rachel.

"I swear, it was not that bad," Charlie grumbled in annoyance.

The crew filed out, running to the shadows of the hangar. Rachel input the code to the door, throwing it open to let everyone in, and then shutting it with a snap. In the middle of the giant hangar was one plane, a Lear jet with two tail engines. There was already a ladder next to the plane, allowing the crew to board quickly.

The jet was beautiful, with soft white leather and navy-blue carpeting. A couch and several arm chairs were in the back, a table surrounded by four more chairs in the middle, and then two rows of traditional airline seating, albeit the seats were larger and far cushier.

"Jesus," Charlie breathed as she stepped inside. "Where the hell did mom get this?"

"Part of working for the CIA," Rachel shrugged.

"Wait, when did mom go the CIA?!"

"After you disappeared," Rachel said as she headed to the cockpit with Sulu. "Figured their resources would be able to find you."

Charlie paused, blinking blearily by the shock from the lengths at which her parents had gone to find her. Her mother went all the way to the CIA to try to see what happened to her. Now it all connected, it all made sense how her mother believed her so quickly. She knew, she must have known something else had happened in England. Then another thought struck, Charlie hurrying to the cockpit as everyone else took their seats and tried to figure out the buckle system.

"Wait, if we're going to London, what about customs and clearances? None of us have passports, and I didn't see you grab yours."

Rachel was already in the co-pilot seat, the headset on as she started to warm the engines and open that hangar door. "We'll use the call sign five six Alpha Charlie Tango Niner. We'll sail right in then. Besides, the tower just connected with us. Someone filed a flight plan for us, full clearance. I think mom had her people call which means we're going to be taken care of on that end too."

Charlie blinked. "Oh. Ok then."

Sulu turned. "Charlie, go sit. Your sister and I can handle this."

Charlie nodded, and headed to the back, taking the seat next to Jim and across from Uhura. Sooner than she thought, they were taxiing down the runway before the nose lifted and they were in the air headed east. To what? Charlie didn't know.

It was raining as the jet cleared the cloud cover and the rolling green fields of England rose below them. Charlie's eyes were gritty, her sleep disturbed by images of swirling black cloaks, glowing masks, and the clashing of battle. She tried to suppress her yawn, only the thought of being back in the UK giving her enough adrenaline to focus.

Sulu and Rachel took turns catching catnaps, the autopilot controls taking them most of the way across the Atlantic. Everyone else had merely spread out on the couch, their chairs, or as Scotty proclaimed, the floor was just fine.

Charlie had a lot to think about. First was how her ending up in the 23rd century may have altered her parents' career course. Her mother had never been interested in the CIA, never thought about anything but military intelligence and working with airmen. Now she was a clandestine member for a government operation that led her to create the very things they were trying to fight against. And her father no longer taught at the Academy he loved, encouraging the new generation of engineering with his own projects on the side. He was elbow deep in it now. All because of the blood that flowed in her veins.

Next was Kate. She was about to see her best friend again. The way her father spoke about the mental hospitals, and their treatments, Charlie was scared about what happened to her and Philippa. What did they go through when they returned? How were the reactions? Apparently, they didn't end up back right when they left so time travel was still linear in some forms. She had so many questions, and since she was helping pilot the plane, Charlie didn't have the opportunity to hound her sister.

All these thoughts swirled in her head as the plane landed with a gentle bump, taxiing to a hanger off of the executive airport's runway. Charlie didn't recognize where they were, only that they were outside of the city somewhere. The rain lashed the windows of the plane, beads of water rolling down as Charlie stared at the overcast sky.

As soon as they were inside the hangar, three dark SUVs pulled in with one dark suited individual stepping out. He stood there, a tall, well-build dark man waiting for them to exit the plane.

"Who is he?" Uhura asked as the crew crowded around the windows. No one moved to open the door and descend from the plane. The man didn't move a muscle except to clasp his hands together in front and wait.

Already irritated by the lack of decent sleep, Charlie stomped over to the main door. "I don't care who he is. I'm ready to figure out what the hell is going on."

She threw the door open before anyone could stop her and stomped down the steps onto the tarmac. The others had no choice to scramble after her.

"Charlotte and Rachel Noland?" the man's deep voice asked, his dark eyes roaming over the group. His accent was American, which surprised Charlie.

"Yes?" she answered.

His black eyes locked to hers. "I have instructions from your mother to take you and your team to one of our analysists. Do you require assistance with luggage?"

Charlie's brows rose in surprise. "No, this is all we have. Have you heard from our mother? Is she ok? What about our father?"

"Negative," he shook his head as he gestured for doors to be opened. "The only information I have is to pick you up and deliver you. Your mother only said she would get in contact in the next few days."

"Wait. What's the password?" Rachel questioned skeptically, crossing her arms, her stance poised for fight or flight, the rest of the crew echoing her sentiment.

The man didn't miss a beat as his attention moved to her. "Sum amicus est tibi." Rachel dropped her guard and nodded to the crew, letting them know it was safe. "If you have nothing else, please proceed into the vehicles."

Charlie and Rachel shared worried glances. It wasn't like their mother to be that secretive, or to not at least let them know if their father was even alive. That's when a horrible thought crossed Charlie's mind. Was her father dead? Had he been shot because she gave away the secret entrance so the Black Sun or whoever they were could find a way in? Did she lead them right to her parents because of her overinflated moral compass?

Her mind swirled with all the horrible possibilities until she felt a gentle hand on her back, guiding her to one of the vehicles. With a glance up a Jim's concerned gaze, she pushed her worries aside to focus on the task at hand.

It took over an hour of winding through little villages, small towns, urban boroughs and finally into London itself before Charlie recognized where she was. They passed the Eye, Big Ben, and Westminster. They wound through back alleys, double backed to different locations, and spent time sitting in the traffic that London always seemed to have. Soon enough they turned down a side street of tan and cream Georgian style townhomes, stopping in front of an inconspicuous grey-brick building in the middle of the block. The black door and iron fencing were shiny and new, the front pavers were level, and the garden bushes newly trimmed.

The sky continued to be grey and foreboding, but the rain had changed over to mist, and the cold winds had died down. The crew stepped out of the vehicles into the damp air, checking up and down the street even though it was silent except for a passerby or two. As soon as they were out, the SUVs drove away, leaving them on the street in confusion.

"What now?" Uhura asked, both Rachel and Charlie shrugging. The black door opened, and a redheaded woman poked her head out. Her copper tresses were cut to just under her chin, and her face was skinnier than she remembered, but otherwise Kate was exactly the same.

"Kate!" Charlie shouted, throwing open the iron gate and running up the path.

"Charlie!" Kate answered, running out and throwing her arms around Charlie's shoulders in an air-mitigating hug. The friends had tears in their eyes as they broke away, both taking in the changes in each other.

"You've gotten strong!" Kate noticed, her accent a soothing balm as she squeezed Charlie's bicep. "And I like your hair long."

"Look at yourself. You've got some muscle definition too!" Charlie countered, rubbing her ribs. "Pretty sure you cracked one." There was a tightness behind Kate's dark, almond eyes, the lines deepening just a fraction.

"Oh hello, Captain. Mr. Spock," Kate said, noticing the group behind her.

"How are you doing, Kate?" Jim asked, leaning in to give her a hug and quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm doing well, thank you Captain."

"Miss Aldridge, I'm pleased to see you again." Spock nodded, his arms clasped behind his back.

"Please, everyone, come in. Your mother called me this morning, we have a lot to discuss." Kate stood aside, holding the door open so everyone could enter, making for the sitting room where a warm fire burned in the fireplace, and tea was already set out. Charlie was the last in, giving Kate another hug.

"I missed you so much," she whispered. "You're the only one who could understand what it was like."

"I know," Kate answered, squeezing one last time before letting go. "A lot of things changed when we came home. Come, I'll explain."

Once everyone had a warm mug, a few biscuits, and had been introduced to Kate's gorgeous springer spaniel Otto, she sat on the arm of the couch to describe what happened after she and Philippa returned.

Just like Charlie thought, they arrived back in Bristol in about the same timeframe as they spent on the Enterprise. Everyone was surprised when they reappeared, especially the police who had led months' long exhaustive search for them. They interviewed the girls for days, trying to figure out where they went and what happened. Kate and Philippa tried to explain their adventure, and who was behind it, but no one believed them. How could they? It was impossible that they traveled into the future, into a reality that doesn't exist except in entertainment. MI6 and the CIA were brought in, and they couldn't crack the girls' stories.

Once they started talking about Klingons, and maniac professors, their families decided that they must have been drugged for months or brainwashed by the captors that the police were never able to find. They were placed in mental institutions in order to "change them back." Kate didn't go into many details, but her face darkened as she explained, and her eyes clouded in memory. Eventually, she learned just to shut up about her experience, to agree with what the doctors said, that it was all in her mind because of the drugs she was forced to ingest. But in reality, she knew she was right. Philippa, unfortunately, never recovered, and ended up disavowing everything that ever happened to them, believing Charlie was killed as they tried to escape whatever prison the doctors said they were in.

The hardest thing was to tell Charlie's family that while she and Philippa made it home, Charlie never would. Robert had taken it hard, harder than Charlie thought. Kate described what happened when her parents arrived at the hospital in Bristol, only to be told Charlie wasn't there. Apparently, a few walls ended up with holes in them.

Philippa didn't want anything to do with Charlie's family, but Kate wanted to meet them. She tried to tell them that Charlie was ok, but Robert wasn't having it. Once he went outside to cool off, Margaret questioned Kate more. Margaret saw the truth in Kate's eyes, and they decided to stay in contact, to discuss options once the time came. Margaret knew that Kate never stopped believing, and while she didn't think the whole idea of Charlie being in the future was true, she did believe that there had to be away to get to Charlie.

Slowly, her and Kate started devising a plan into understanding matter manipulation and the space-time continuum. Kate's uncle was a brilliant astrophysicist, and with his help, along with some connections to different covert agencies around the world, they started a new project to find and predict space and matter anomalies. It was surprisingly helpful in rooting out underground terrorists around the world, especially with Kate's background in archaeology and research. Eventually, she was brought into the fold.

"And I've been working for CIA since," she shrugged.

By the time she was done, the sun had set, and the jet lag had caught up with the crew. Even Spock appeared bleary eyed in the soft light of evening.

"Let me show you to your rooms," Kate smiled, no way upset by the lack of enthusiasm from her friends. "From what Dr. Noland said, you've had an interesting couple of days. We'll speak more later."

The crew all nodded and headed off to bed. Tomorrow, the real challenge begins.

Fun fact, getting rear ended multiple times by a semi that then shoves you through an intersections and spins you out really sucks and it makes for a terrible get away vehicle. Good news, they caught him. Bad news, I have a screwed up neck and fun times in court coming. Positive energy is very much appreciated!