Episode Seven

Star Trek New Order

Episode 007

“Blast from the Past”

Captain’s Log; Star Date 57035.9, after an extended shore leave on Earth, I can’t believe I am so glad to get under way again.  But I think A’Cillia was right, it is time for both of us to move on.  This next mission is a routine shakedown cruise, since we didn’t really get one before.  I am hoping that this trip doesn’t end up as exciting as all the previous shakedowns I have commanded.

“Captain, you should come to the bridge, there is something you will want to see!” Commander Tertian reported over the Intercom.

“Damnit, I’m on my way,” Hunt responded as he got up and left his quarters.  He walked to a turbolift and took it to the bridge.  When he arrived he inquired to Chavin as to what the commotion was about.  She led him to her station.

“We detected a very weak power signature, possibly some sort of Dilithium fission reactor, but it is fluctuating, I would guess that it is very close to going critical.”

“What is so unusual about that?

“The rate of decay suggests that it has been operating continuously for nearly 330 years,” she answered

“That isn’t very unusual, a lot of space faring cultures from that period used sleeper ships.”

“I am also detecting two human life signs,” Chavin responded, “and to my knowledge, Humans didn’t discover Dilithium until the late twenty nineties.”

  “As I recall there were many stories from that era of people being abducted by aliens,” Hunt hypothesized; “perhaps they commandeered their captor’s vessel but couldn’t figure out the warp drive.”

“Their trajectory leads out of the system, sir,” Dergos pointed out.

“Well let’s see who they are, Chavin can you put them on screen?” Hunt requested.  Chavin manipulated her console and a small fighter craft appeared on the view screen, “Chavin, do you recognize that type?”

“No sir,” She answered, “It is…”A look of realization crossed her face, “wait, no it can’t possibly be, no, this looks like an F-302 star fighter from Stargate SG-1 sir, I don’t understand how, unless, Wormhole extreme!” she exclaimed.

“Care to let the rest of us in on the reference, commander?” Tertian requested.

“Okay, well, since SG-1 was about a top secret government program,” Chavin explained, “on a couple of episodes, there was a ‘television show,’ based on the Stargate program, which they allowed to continue because it could be used as a cover for a leak or a messy operation on Earth.”

“Thank you,” Tertian said, regretting he’d asked.

“Well, lets go in closer than,” Hunt ordered.

Something caught Dergos keen eyes on the view screen, “Sir there is something else you will want to see.” Dergos brought the screen to full magnification, on to the cockpit canopy rail.

Every jaw on the bridge hit the deck in unison as it focused on the pilot’s name.  Both Hunt and Chavin in harmony muttered, “My god”

MAJ. WILL HUNT JR. USAF

“Can we tow it in?” Hunt Asked.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, considering the age of that thing,” Dergos answered.

“I’m going outside.” Hunt said flatly as he walked towards the door leading to the airlock.

“I’ll go with you,” Chavin shouted as she followed him through the door.

“What was that about,” Commander Taurik, the new Vulcan chief engineer, pondered aloud.

“Alright, him I understand,” Tertian replied, motioning to the viewer, “But what does Commander Chavin have to do with this?”

Hunt and Chavin hurriedly donned EV suits and stepped into the airlock chamber.

“Why do you have to be here Dranzian?”

“Long story, sir,” she replied as they opened the outer lock and floated outside.  They then silently engaged their maneuvering packs and moved slowly towards the F-302.

Minutes later they arrived at the space fighter.  The two astronauts floated out of their maneuvering packs and began to examine the outer surface.

“Captain, come here,” Chavin signaled pointing toward a damaged area of hull near the tail.  Hunt moved towards her, “Sir, it looks like they were in a bit of a firefight before they left, this looks like shrapnel damage from an explosion.  Hunt pushed himself over and examined the damage; he could clearly see the pieces of shrapnel lodged in the hole.  Hunt then moved forward to the cockpit.

“It looks like they rigged up some sort of cryogenic unit up here,” he said as he wiped some of the frost off of the windscreen hoping to catch a glimpse of his ancestor, “It is amazing that it still works.”

“They most have been trying to escape the war,” Chavin answered.

“Look at this,” Hunt said, as he stared through the windscreen at the pilot, whose head had slumped over as if he was asleep.  “Oh The Fates,” he exclaimed, as he caught sight of a series of faint spots running down the pilot’s neck.  Chavin was without explanation.  They were silent as they recovered their maneuvering packs and pushed the fighter into the hanger bay onboard the Beliskner.

As soon as her boots touched the deck inside the force fielded bay, Chavin removed her helmet and ran out of the room.  Hunt followed her out.

“Do you have something to explain, Commander?”

“No, I knew his father but I did not have sex with him!” Chavin answered.

“Okay, Chavin,” Hunt replied, “Why don’t we go help get them out?”  The two of them turned around and walked back into the hanger.  Several technicians were already crawling all over the fighter looking for a mechanism to open the canopy and turn off the cryogenic system.  Chavin walked over and began to scan the nose area with her EV suit’s built in tricorder.

“It looks like all we have to do to shut down the cryo is open ‘er up,” Chavin reported.

“It appears that the canopy release is inside, Sir,” Taurik responded.

“Why didn’t you just try this?” Chavin asked rhetorically as she walked over to the side of the cockpit and opened a small yellow hatch.  She began to draw a length of cable out of the bay behind it and ran backwards, pulling it with her.  When she had pulled out three meters of it, there was a series of sharp bangs and then the canopy blew itself clear across the room.  “I have always wanted to do that,” Chavin said excitedly.

Inside of the cockpit, the occupants began to stir, Hunt signaled for the medical team, which was standing by, to come and place the crew onto antigrav litters.  They carried the litters to sickbay where the ship’s Andorian doctor, Thelon Sorel, waited for them.

Captain’s Log; Supplemental, Dr. Sorel has stabilized our guests’ condition and asked that me and Commander Chavin come down to sickbay to welcome them to this century.

Dr. Sorel greeted Hunt and Chavin at the entrance to sickbay and began to explain their condition.  As soon as they reached the pilot, Hunt asked when they could be revived completely.

“They can be revived now,” Sorel replied, “First though there is something you should know.”  Hunt and Chavin exchanged glances and Sorel continued, “I ran a DNA test on this one when I saw the markings on his neck, He is definitely a direct ancestor of yours Captain.  I also did find some Trill markers,” Hunt looked at Chavin, angry that she had apparently lied to him, “But there were very few, and I also found some genetic anomalies indicative of early genetic manipulation,” Hunt relaxed his, “I would have to guess that the Trill DNA is pure coincidence and he was subject so some early Eugenics experiments, although I wouldn’t exactly call him an Augment.”

“What about the spots?” Hunt inquired.

“Oh, that is body art.”

“That is a very extensive tat, if it goes as far as I think it might,” Chavin exclaimed.

“Yes it is, neck to toe, very similar to trill spots, I might add.”

“Why don’t we revive him now Doc,” Hunt suggested trying to change the subject.

“Just inject him with this,” the Andorian replied, handing Hunt a hypospray, “I’ll be in my lab, I don’t think the first thing he should see of the twenty-fourth century is a blue skinned alien with wiggling antenna.” After he moved off Chavin chuckled about his description of himself, unlike most Andorians Sorel was not very nationalistic and preferred life away from the frozen wastelands of Andoria.  She then pressed the Hypospray against the still form of Major Hunt, and depressed the activation stud.  He began to stir and his eyes slowly came open resting on Captain Hunt.

“Hello Major,” Hunt said.

“What?  This isn’t the Mars One Station,” The major whispered feebly, “Where are we?  You’re with the Eastern Coalition aren’t you?”  He tried to get up to escape.

“Hold on Major, we aren’t with the Coalition and a better question would be when.”

“What?”

“Your first question,” Hunt replied, “And I would like to be the first to say: ‘welcome to the twenty-fourth century,’ you have been asleep for almost three hundred and thirty years, trust me, I know how you feel.”  The major fainted, but as he did so he caught a glimpse of Chavin next to the Captain.

Next they moved over to the other crewmen.  Sorel returned in order to tell them about his condition.

“Do you have any idea who this guy is?” Chavin asked.

“No, the name on the flight suit: Capt. Arnold Droit, didn’t come up in any record searches, although records from that era were rather sketchy,” Sorel reported, “Although I can tell that his flight suit is an older design than the other one, suggesting that he was a former pilot but not flying anymore, perhaps a Politician?”  Chavin then squeezed past the doctor and unzipped the pockets of his flight suit, with in moment’s she found what she was looking for.  In one of the chest pockets she found a Zippo lighter and pulled it out.  She held the lighter up to the light and immediately saw the inscription, on one side was a presidential seal and on the other she read, “To: Arnie from the Boss”

“He must have been important to receive such a gift,” Sorel exclaimed.

“The jovial nature of the inscription suggests that he was someone close to the President of the United States, possibly the Vice President,” Chavin acknowledged.

“That would make him the rightful heir to your planet then?” Sorel asked.

“Not quite but he could have a claim to the presidency,” Hunt replied.

“Lets wake him up,” Chavin Suggested, “there is a lot we could learn about the politics of that time.”  The Andorian doctor walked away and Chavin injected Droit with the remainder of the serum.  His eyes fluttered open.

“Hello,” Chavin said, beating Hunt to the honor, “Welcome to the twenty-fourth century sir.”

“What, Twenty-Fourth?” He said.

“Yes sir,” Hunt cut in, “Best as we can figure, your ship was damaged on the way to Mars and you drifted for more than three hundred years, until we found you.”

“I don’t believe it, this is some sort of trick!”

“Sir, if I may, who are you?” Chavin asked.

“What you don’t know who I am?” The Patient answered.

“Records from that time were rather fragmented.”

“I understand, with the war and all,” Droit answered, “I am the president.”

“Why don’t you come with me, your Excellency?” Sorel asked, his alien appearance startling Droit, “I can escort you to one of the ambassadorial suites.”

“You know doc,” Hunt interrupted, “He isn’t really royalty, why don’t I take him, we don’t want to over stimulate them you know.”

“That isn’t really necessary, you know,” the President said.

“Trust me it is,” Hunt whispered as he led the man out.  Sorel returned to his lab, leaving Chavin alone with Major Hunt.  She saw him stir again so she walked over to him.

“Are you an angel?” Major Hunt asked.

“Sorry, you’re not there yet,” Chavin replied, brushing some hair out of her face.

“You are a very beautiful woman.”

“Thank you”

“You know my dad used to tell me about a woman he knew before I was born, who had a very similar tattoo to that one you’ve got, from what I heard, she was almost as beautiful as you are.”

“You don’t know how nice that was for me to hear.”

“Oh I’ll bet I can guess,” he replied.

“I am not human,” Chavin informed him, “This isn’t a tat, and I am a member of a race that lives symbiotically with a large worm like creature in our belly.  The symbiont allows me to remember anything that a previous host experienced, as if I was there.   I am the latest host to the one that resided in that woman your father talked about.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“This place is huge, where exactly are we?” the president asked.

“Why don’t I show you,” Hunt replied.  He led the president to a turbolift and instructed it to take them to Ten Forward.

Do to its war time service, the Ten Forward lounge on the Beliskner was more austere than those of her sister ships such as the Enterprise at the back of the room was a large, fully stocked, bar in front of a mural of the Norse god Thor, riding his chariot and wielding his hammer.  Opposite the bar, on the front bulkhead, was a row of massive, curved, picture windows looking out ahead of the ship into space.  On either side of the room were various mementos from the war.  Hunt and president Droit entered and walked toward the windows.

“Wow,” Droit said, staring out into deep space, “Are we on some sort of massive space station?”

“Not quite,” Hunt answered.

“Captain Hunt,” said a voice over the intercom, “we are ready to depart for the next phase of tests.”

“Go right ahead,” Hunt answered, and then to Droit, “You might want to watch.”  Just then the stars in front of them began to move towards the window, then they began to stretch, and suddenly the entire view dissolved into a miasma of white light as the ship crossed the light barrier.  As quickly as it began, the view faded into streaks of light passing the ship.  “We are on a massive star ship,” Hunt offered, “forty-two decks, 641 meters long, nearly five million metric tons, and a crew of 1,124 including the space wing.”

“Wow,” Droit exclaimed again, “How was this thing built?  It must have cost a hundred billion dollars.”

“In your money, more like five or six trillion,” Hunt replied, “But in this century, we have no need for currency.”

“No money, than what do you work for.”

“We work to better ourselves.”

“Then why would someone like him serve drinks?” Droit asked, pointing at the bar tender.”

“Jack over there, is one of my closest confidants,” Hunt replied, “he likes tending bar, why don’t I show you the bridge?”  He led Droit back out.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Chavin escorted the Major out of a turbolift and on to the bridge.

“So this is where you work?” the Major said as they came to Chavin’s station.  Chavin then began to explain her position onboard.  Next, Hunt arrived with the president trailing behind him.

“Well, Mr. President,” Hunt introduced, “welcome to the Bridge,” He gestured to his chair, “Would you like a seat?”

“You know, you don’t have to treat me like this,” Droit replied, “I didn’t want to be vice president, let alone president, I am a naval aviator, and that is all I ever wanted to be.”

“Maybe you would like to talk to my CAG then?” Hunt said gesturing towards Chavin.  Suddenly the ship shook violently as an explosion ripped through it.  The lights flickered and a klaxon sounded as the ship rapidly decelerated from warp.  Tertian released a stream of terse Bajoran expletives, which were not recognized by the Universal Translator.  Hunt turned toward Dergos and asked him what the explosion came from.

“It looks like the star fighter exploded, it blew out a fair bit of the Hanger, but it looks like the blow out escape doors took the brunt of it, but the force fields aren’t working,” The Angosian reported.  Hunt looked around then asked Chavin and Dergos to follow him to the airlock.

“Maybe I can be of assistance,” Major Hunt suggested, “I know a little bit more about that fighter than you do.”  Captain Hunt agreed with his ancestor.  The group proceeded into the airlock.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Four space suited forms floated out of a hatch on the side of the bridge module and walked along the hull to a large hole over the hanger bay.  When they reached it, they disengaged their magnetic boots and floated down into the bay.  Dergos began to scan the debris with his tricorder.

“I am detecting an unknown compound on some of these components,” Dergos announced, “It looks like some sort of explosive residue, but I don’t recognize it.”

Major Hunt floated over to him and read the display, “I know that compound,” He acknowledged, “That is a little thing we used to call Composition Four, Plastic Explosive.”

“I have read about it,” Dergos replied, “A very powerful explosive for its day, the chemical recipe was lost after the third world war.”

“Could some ordinance from the fighter have inadvertently detonated?” Hunt asked.

“We expended all the weapons during our escape,” his ancestor answered.

“Engineering reports that they are ready to reengage the atmospheric force field and gravity,” Chavin reported.  Hunt signaled to the engine room and motioned for everyone to move toward the floor.  Above them, a flash of static lightning signaled the force field coming online.  As Hunt drifted towards the floor, he felt his stomach drop as he began to feel the effects of gravity.  The debris around them also began to settle to the floor.  After the atmosphere filtered back into the bay, the group all removed their helmets and walked out of the room, allowing engineering crews to take over.  What they did not see was a shadow moving behind several containers and into a Jefferies tube on the side bulkhead.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Afterwards, the Captain invited their guests to dinner in his quarters.  Droit, politely declined, stating that he had never liked pomp and circumstance, and would rather dine in the officer’s mess.  Shortly before dinner, Major Hunt wandered into the ship’s tailor to get a dress uniform.  He was amazed when after he asked the Bolian attendant for a uniform, the Bolian only took a few seconds to retrieve a perfectly tailored uniform.  Afterwards, Major Hunt enjoyed a quick sonic shower before dressing and walking to the Captain’s quarters.  When he arrived, he found Captain Hunt and Chavin already seated.

Major Hunt sat down and the group began to eat.  Throughout dinner the conversation revolved around their present predicament.  Captain Hunt collected the plates and returned them to his replicator, when he came back he carried a variety of alien desserts.  Major Hunt was about to dig his fork into something Chavin called a Ktarian Chocolate Puff, when some movement caught his eye outside the window.  He dropped his fork when he saw what looked like a gloved hand; place a small square object on the window sill.  The Captain noticed the major staring and glanced towards the window.  He saw a red light on the box begin to blink, it began to blink faster, and Hunt realized what it was. He yelled to get out and both of his guests jumped up without protest and ran for the door.  Following them, Hunt leaped over the table and made a snap roll through the open door.

Just before the door slid shut, the bomb detonated, blowing out the entire bulkhead of Hunt’s quarters.  Instinctively the three of them grabbed hold of the handrail in the corridor as a strong wind picked up, trying to pull them out the breach.  They hung there for what seemed an eternity as the pressure pulled on their legs.  Chavin’s grip began to falter.  When she finally lost her grip, she began flying towards the jammed open door; Hunt let go with one hand and grabbed her around her waist just before she slid out of reach.  With the extra weight, Hunt’s hand began to slip off the rail.  Just as his hand let go of it, the forcefield activated and the three of them fell to the floor, the vacuum no longer pulling on them.

                                    *                                  *                                  *

“The three of you are fine,” Sorel informed his patients, “it was sheer luck you weren’t sucked out into space.”

Major Hunt propped himself up on his biobed, “It must have been sabotage.”

“But who,” Chavin inquired.

The door swished open and Dergos walked in, “I might have an answer,” He pulled a charred black medallion out of a case, “My team found this in your quarters.”  Hunt recognized it immediately; it was the insignia of one of the many Eastern Warlords of the third world war.  He handed it to the major.

“They are trying to send us a message,” The major announced, “If this is from a super soldier of my time it will not stop until we are all dead.”

“How did it survive?” Hunt asked.

“It probably stowed away and but itself into hibernation.

“Damn it!” Hunt exclaimed, “Dergos I want a full sweep of this ship until this super soldier is found.

“Yes sir,” Dergos acknowledged, “I should probably guard the President.”

“No,” Hunt replied, “I need you out there when we find him.”

“The President is a likely target.”

“Ok, have them fitted for BDUs and issue them Phasers,” Hunt ordered, “I’m going with you too.”

                        *                                  *                                  *

Inside the armory, Dergos was checking out a set of Hazard suits for major Hunt and President Droit.  Captain Hunt walked in and grabbed a Phaser Rifle off of a wall rack.  Flipping open a cover he inserted a power cell and slammed it home.  “Let’s get moving,” He said to Dergos.

Dergos picked up the Phaser Cannon he had liberated from a Section 31 controlled Warbird, and attached the massive power cell, “no argument here,” He replied.  His answer was met by a chorus of “Hooahs” from the other marines in the room.  Hefting the massive cannon as if it were a kitten, he walked towards the door.

                        *                                  *                                  *

The search team found nothing on the initial search of the upper decks.  Several hours in to the search, they finally reached the maintenance bays on deck 42.  They were just about to double back and search the upper decks again when one of the marines thought he saw movement.  The soldiers circled around the president and the major.  From behind a maintenance hatch ahead of them, a stream of projectiles shot forward and felled a marine in the fore guard.  The team returned fire, scorching the hatch, when they approached they found that the Soldier had already left.  The hatch lead to an adjacent corridor, Hunt and Dergos lead the group through it.  When they reached the other side they were met by a hail of gunfire.  The group took cover behind several consoles and returned fire.

“Bring me the president and I will leave the rest of you unharmed!”  The defenders heard from the soldier’s hiding place.  Their silence was met with more gunfire.  Then the Soldier announced, “I found a panel marked Danger, Antimatter, over here, I don’t know what that is but I’ll be it will explode when I shoot it!”

Dergos Stood up and replied, “Alright, he is coming right over.”  Everyone stared at him shocked.  “Trust me,” He said quietly to the president, he took him by the arm and began walking him toward the soldier’s position with his phaser cannon in his other hand.  The world war three era soldier stepped out of the shadow’s and pointed his weapon at Dergos and instructed him to set down the phaser.  Dergos complied and took another step forward. The soldier then instructed him to hand over the president. Dergos began to push Droit in that direction but then shoved him aside, leapt up and kicked the soldier in the head.  Droit ran back toward the marines as the soldier stumbled backwards.  The soldier then attempted to fire his weapon only to find that it had struck a bulkhead and broken.  Then the soldier charged Dergos.

The soldier knocked Dergos flat.  The Angosian immediately flipped back, leaped up and did a backwards summersault in midair, coming down in a standing position behind the soldier. He ran up and tackled the soldier to the deck.  The soldier turned over and staggered upright.  He than came forward and lifted the Angosian up into the air.  The soldier then threw Dergos backwards towards the marines and walked back towards his barricade.  Dergos landed adjacent to where he had set down his cannon and lifted it up as he stood.

“Hey!” he shouted, the soldier turned around and took a shot from the narcotic dispenser on his chest.  “Snort this, MotherFurker!” he brought the cannon to his shoulder, set it on maximum and activated the firing mechanism, discharging a pulse, as the soldier began to run towards him.  The pulse struck the soldier and vaporized him completely before traveling to the end of the corridor and disintegrating a bulkhead.

                        *                                  *                                  *

Captain’s Log; Star Date 57036.4, we have been towed to McKinley Station in Earth Orbit for much needed repairs.  I am glad that this ordeal is finally over, but I will miss our guests from the past.  Former president Droit has been offered Ambassadorship after he has been acclimated to modern life, but I heard that he has politely declined, and instead plans on learning how to fly modern space fighters.  My direct ancestor still raises questions, but I think I can live without answers.  He has decided to go to the academy on a special accelerated training course so that he can one day join Starfleet.  I offered to take Commander Chavin out to dinner tonight in Paris, and she said yes.

In her quarters, Chavin stood in front of a mirror, contemplating the events of their most recent adventure.  She placed the required Trill ceremonial objects around the room and began to chant.  She was summoning the spirit of her first host, the one who had been stranded on Earth.  She concentrated hard on the mirror until in her minds eye she could see the image of that host standing next to her in the mirror.  She had so many questions.

“Were you really just friends?” she asked.

No, the host answered.

“Why did you hide this from us?”

I did it to protect us, I didn’t want the commission to find out about it, and so I blocked the memory from all future hosts and altered the boys DNA.  I left right after he was born.

The door chimed, “I have to tell him,” Chavin admitted.

Please don’t, I love him, he is just like my Hunt.  I know you still love him too.

The door chimed again.  Chavin blew out the candles and let the spirit filter back into her subconscious.  Chavin then walked over to the door and opened it.

“What took you so long?” Hunt asked.

“Oh nothing,” Chavin lied, “Come on, let’s go to dinner.”  They walked down the corridor together.