From Past to Present

Posted on Sun Jul 15th, 2018 @ 1:22pm by Captain Remas McDonald

2,165 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: S1:3: Myriad Problems
Location: Bridge/Ready Room
Timeline: Day 1, 11:00

The day, such as it could be called, was not treating Jolani well. First, she found out that she was not woken from stasis to deal with her ship being hit. Then, she received those condescending concerns from the ship's Doctor. Upon changing in her quarters, Jolani was storming off to give the Captain a piece of her mind, only to trip, fall, and get a nurse involved in fixing her. No doubt the doctor would be viewing this as concerning, which only irritated Jolani more.

Still, she was a woman on a mission. That mission happened to be giving the Captain a piece of her mind for leaving her in stasis. This time, being more mindful of her steps, she quickly stalked towards the bridge with a fierce determination. Once there, she spied the Captain and gave a hasty salute, "Lieutenant Jolani reporting for duty." Crew members would notice that she did not use her last name, instead choosing her first for her title.

Daggers shooting from her eyes and without waiting for an acknowledgement, she continued to speak to the Captain. With forced politeness of duty, Jolani mustered a tone that seemed to contain an imminent thunderstorm, "May I speak with you in private, Captain?"

"Certainly," he said, nodding to the ready room. He handed over the bridge and followed Jolani in. Desk, chairs, and the by now infamous shifting collection of space travel memorabilia. This time a wall was taken up mostly by a gently curving piece of metal, blacked along one edge and dented in a corner. On its white surface was painted a five-pointed star, in the style of the old United States Air Force.

"Ferengi trader on Rigel told me this was a genuine piece of the Phoenix. Isotope dating puts it mid-2230's as a date of production, but it's still a connection even as a totem," he said as he walked to the replicator slot.

Eyes blazing, Jolani ignored the attempt at small talk. She growled, "Permission to speak freely, Captain." The storm was barely holding back now. The Captain merely needed to give his permission and it would be unleashed.

The replicator hummed, and Remas turned back to his desk with a small tea service of low lipped cups and a wide flat steaming pot. He settled the tray on his desk, pouring a measure of the pale steaming fluid into the cups, and then settled into the chair behind his desk.

"Permission grant-"

Once Jolani heard the beginning of the word "granted," she fumed, "I was thawed out not more than an hour ago and do you know what one of the first things that I hear is? That MY ship took damage! You left ME, your Chief Flight Control Officer asleep while MY ship is taking damage. How could you do that? What were you thinking?" Keep control Jolani. We are not letting out any psychotelepathic projections today. She balled her hands into fists and placed each on a hip.

"I was thinking we were all part of a crew. We all work together, we all get what we want. Beck is an adequate pilot. And to be honest, the trip from the Alpha Quadrant to the edge of Messier 4 involved being shot out of what amounts to a cannon and then flying in a straight line," Remas said, taking one of the shallow cups and bringing it under his nose. "Hazard of phase space travel I'm told. With only a single launch gate and no end terminal to act as an anchor, the exit terminus of a blind jump tends to be randomised within a mathematically defined cone of space."

The fact the Traveller's mission had been held up for nearly a year as the calculations for the first jump was finalised, scrutinized, redefined and then drafted again to give them the best odds of landing close to Messier 4. Falling short by thirty light years was as close to a bullseye compared to some of the estimates.

One of which had been labelled '??Andromeda??'.

All get what we want? You know that I will never have what I want. Why even say that? "Adequate is about the correct word because he's barely able to fly straight with coordinates pre-programmed." It was obvious that Jolani was still displeased, perhaps even hurt. "I should have been woken up." She barely refrained from saying, I do not mind dying. It might even be welcome but I want to know it is coming for me.

"That would have taken time, and given there was no pressing need to revive you from stasis you remained there," he made a little gesture of presenting his office window and the curve of the desert moon beneath them. "Now we have things to fly around, planets, stars, asteroids."

"Don't patronize me, Remas. You make it sound like flying is something that a raw cadet could handle - making lazy turns and stalling out if they are too fast for their own comfort level at impulse speeds. There's much more to it. Who knows what minor miracle I could have pulled off had you woken me?"

She growled her frustration. "I swear, if it weren't for Fell...." Her voice off noticeably. Keep control. You are in control of your emotions. You've dealt with worse thoughts. As she thought these things, her face went noticeably expressionless, almost trancelike, as she fought her inner demons.

"Fell was a good man, an excellent judge of character he was. And you're right, if Fell hadn't died he'd be here in your seat now ranting and raving about why he wasn't woken up earlier. You'd be his back up along with Beck and the other members of the flight control team," Remas stressed the final word. "Team. Everyone works together with no one made more exceptional. I don't need the best, I need a team of such individuals. And I would like to think I have that."

Remas tapped the side of his cup thoughtfully.

"I mean, Beck was able to fly us out of a disintegrating alien wreck infested with a self-replicating technoplague without scratching the paint on the Zheng'he," he said thoughtfully. "I'm sure if I look up the after flight reports from your career jacket, I might find similar glowing remarks? What was it the hanger crews use to call your landings? Jolting With Jolani?"

A hint of a smile crossed Jolani's face as she remembered more pleasant days. "Yes. There also were my flight patterns that I developed which got me named 'Crazy Kohnar.' I was always known for my pinpoint precision and flair." When it was fun.... When Fell was alive. When I was alive.... You can't kill what is already dead. I still should have been woken up. Her mood soured with the thought but her demeanor was calmer. "Of course, that reputation carried over and not always in the most flattering ways." She shrugged indifferently.

"Dare I ask why we stopped at a wreck? And what do you mean, 'technoplague'?"

"Wreck's propulsion system was putting out a field of energy that somehow turned highly energetic plasma like which you might find in a warp core, into a thick gel you could handle with your fingers. Made a mess of the map room when Ari poured it out for all to see," Remas smiled. "Seemed imminently wise to get on board, try and fix or turn off the engines and do some exploring. After all, we came out to Messier 4 to broaden our horizons."

He moved the tea tree to one side of his desk, and made a gesture about the smooth black surface. A holographic interface appeared, and with more artful flicks of his fingers a data file opened above the desk.

It showed...something. It was black, glossy like volcanic glass, but it was in constant motion folding inwards along lines of impossible geometry.

"That's a Clock Maker. Bane to sailor and monster of myth. Folk's who owned the ark were residents of a far away galaxy that was eaten by these things. Seems that they have a fondness for dismantling planets and using the raw matter to force dyson sphere's around stars. The ark was the means by which they escaped the death of their home star system for a time," Remas explained before the data file shifted to a shuddering video file.

It showed a white Starfleet EVA suit stretched and malformed, with raking black claws breaking through the gloves and twisted spines pushing out from the shoulders and back. It was clearly no longer a person as it staggered with growing fluidity towards the camera.

"Ensign Kevin Barnes. Operations Tech. Whilst investigating the wreck's engineering spaces, which used a macro-sized singularity on a scale that would pale a Romulan, they awoke it. It was in the falls, the foundation, the very heart of the ship," he tapped the vid file, and it changed to the nose camera of the runabout Zheng'he.

It showed an alien cityscape, rolled up like it was built into a drum-like an old fashion spin gravity station. From the brassy material, the city streams of spiked black crystal rose and fell like the devil's own worms, weakly being fought off by sharp strands of brass.

"Clock Makers don't care what sort of matter they use to make more of themselves. A planet, a ship, you or me: we're all equally edible..." he breathed out slowly. "Fortune's be that its fifteen lightyears behind us on the right side of a black holes event horizon."

Jolani's face never changed as she took in the information. "And how are we sure that these things did not make their way onto our ship? Is there any known defense against them? What does science have to say?"

"Thorough scanning and their seeming disintegration when the Ark was destroyed. We have samples of the remains in a science lab, as well as a large sample of the Ark's...governing intelligence," Remas said. "As for a defence, an advanced civilisation fell to them. A species who spanned an entire galaxy, and whose final act was a pithy rejoinder of an exploding star. I am not looking forward to writing the report to send back to Starfleet when we get back in contact with the Federation."

He smiled.

"But we have our science techs working every sensor we have over them. So far all we've determined is the active spores utilise some form of advanced femtotechnology. Think nanomachines but...much, much worse. Rearranging atoms on the subatomic level, create matter from anything," he shook his head. "And to think, I used to think the worse thing I'd run into in Starfleet was the Borg."

While Jolani might have questioned the wisdom of keeping remains of such a creature on board the Traveller, ultimately it was not her concern. It was not her duty. Hers was flying the ship. If the thing destroyed her, so be it. "There are worse things than being Borg. Perhaps you understand a bit, now. Regardless, I am here and ready for duty now that I am finally out of stasis. Is there anything else that I should know before resuming my duties?"

"Nothing that springs to mind," Remas said thoughtfully.

"If you think of anything," she then emphasized, "and I mean anything, let me know. I already have, what, six months to catch up on? I will work all hours until I am sufficiently detailed."

She started to turn away and walk out but stopped short of the ready room door being triggered. Jolani faced the Captain again, "I will want to do a space walk and survey any damage. I need to know how that might affect any drag coefficients and see to supervising any repairs to make sure that we are as sleek as the day that we boarded this ship. When we get into trouble, because I cannot see that we will not, I want to be prepared for every possible contingent maneuver."

"I see no issue with with. But I would ask you wait until this business with the Mryiad is over. Wouldn't do for us to need our pilot, only to have flung off into space because we needed to make a turn. I'm also sure Chief Zhuri would be delighted to help you with overseeing the repairs his team has made," Remas said.

"Delighted is rarely a word used to describe my company in recent times. However, I will wait to do the space walk. And if Beck decides to make a turn without my permission, well, let us just say that he will find out what space is like without a suit."

“Oh don’t let me keep you,” Remas said and nodded towards the door.

"Thank you, Captain." With that, Jolani finally exited and headed towards her mountain of paperwork.

 

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