Star Trek 500
August Challenge
A Blast from the Past
1,427 words
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41870.3
(November 14th, 2364)
During the last few days I have been interviewed by no fewer than five Temporal Investigations agents and they are still no closer to figuring out who I am or where I came from, and until they have even the slightest clue, there is no chance of getting out to Gamma Canaris since they don’t believe that story. So I’m stuck on Starbase 231 while the Wellington is solving another one of the galaxy’s problems. I’ve taken the time between interviews to catch up on more history but to be honest, I don’t have the interest at the moment. Ever since I came aboard, I’ve had this nagging suspicion that someone is watching me, but there seems to be very few people here and I find it somehow discomforting.
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41871.9
(November 15th, 2364)
At last the interviews are over and I have been “released” from the custody of TI. I have another three days before the Wellington can return to pick me so I find myself on unexpected leave. Starbase 231 is unusual in that it may be a Federation starbase but it is actually owned by a capitalist group that designed and maintained a shield around the planet, and administrated by Starfleet. The nagging feeling I’ve had over the last few days still haunts me. I know there is someone watching me, I can feel it in my head, but I don’t know why, or who. And that bothers me. I have enough on my plate with Temporal Investigations sealing my file and Starfleet Medical trying to evaluate me all the time, I don’t need an added complication. I couldn’t go down to the planet, that was off-limits to Starfleet personnel, a condition of the joint running of the starbase, but with little else to occupy my time, I decided that I would find a way down there and learn why this capitalist entity didn’t want anyone nosing around. After all, these days there were faster ways to regenerate an ozone layer.
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41874.2
(November 15th, 2364)
Wiping the transporter log after beaming through the planetary shield was relatively easy, since their own technology was about forty years behind Starfleet’s, but once on the surface, I found something unusual. I had been reading up on Earth’s history for months now, and I recognised several things about this city that I had materialised in. It resembled New York City from the late twentieth century. Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development would seem to have taken place here, but I was surprised that no one from Starfleet had bothered to even try to investigate. The tricorder informed me that the planet’s natural ozone layer had in fact reasserted itself some time ago.
‘I was wondering when someone would come down. Interesting that it would be you,’ a man said.
I turned around and saw a man in his early thirties, dark brown hair, wearing denim jeans, a leather jacket and black gloves, and a trenchcoat. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Not now, but I did.’
‘When?’
‘Five hundred years ago, on Earth.’
‘I was born a century ago, and according to Starfleet, no one had heard of this world before we made our deal with the Corporation to administer the Starbase.’
The man smiled. ‘I travelled here the same way you did, by starship. I heard that there might be a problem and a friend of mine sent me to help you. The Shield Corporation will be dealt with by the natives shortly, in a few months, the way it is supposed to happen. You and I shouldn’t be here.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Hey!’ another voice called. ‘No Starfleet allowed.’
‘We’d better go,’ the man said.
I tapped my combadge and both of us materialised back in my temporary quarters aboard the starbase.
‘Now tell me who you are,’ I told him.
‘First, I want to show you who you are.’
‘How?’
He suddenly withdrew a sword from his trenchcoat and impaled me in the chest. I gasped and fell to the floor, but instead of blacking out, I remembered something from before I was transported to the twenty-third century, some incident from the eighteenth.
Kent
March 2nd 1864
The tavern was closed and I desperately needed somewhere to stay so I wandered down the road another few miles until I found a found a house. I knocked on the door and found a sword in my face. Backing up, I tripped over a brick and fell to the ground, but was at least able to see the bearer. He advanced on me with the sword and swung downward, I brought my own sword up and held his at bay.
‘Who are you?’ I asked as we held blades.
‘My name is Connor.’
‘I’m Ashley, why are you trying to kill me? I just need a place to stay for the night.’
‘Do you not know of the Prize?’ McLeod asked.
‘No, what prize?’
Connor sighed, and helped me up. We entered the house and over a bottle of mead, he explained everything to me, recognising in me the same as he was. I realised that the Prize was attainable, but not yet, maybe not for centuries.
‘We fought two months later, just before the flood,’ I said to him.
‘Aye, that we did, but you held yourself well and I promised you that you would live that day.’
‘I did, but I still need to know how I ended up here, in the twenty-fourth century, and why are you here?’
‘The Prize is a falsehood. There’s no way to kill every single one of us in the galaxy. And as time went on, many of us realised that we could get on with whatever we wanted to do, there was plenty of space for us out there.’
‘You don’t mind anymore, being immortal?’
‘Some of the things we were once told were lies. We can have children, but only with other immortals, and only if they’re biologically compatible. I have an Andorian daughter now, she lives on Mars working for Starfleet.’
‘Do they know about us?’
Connor nodded. ‘They know, and it is in the file of most serving officers. ‘My cousin is an Admiral, has been serving since the twenty-second century. He’s retired now, but still comes in every now and then.’
The door chimed.
‘Excuse me,’ I said and walked to the door. Connor stepped out of sight.
The door opened and two security officers entered, followed by the head of Starbase security. ‘Come with me.’
‘What now?’
‘You’ve violated the rules of this outpost.’
‘It’s alright, Commander, he’s with me,’ Connor said.
‘Captain?’
‘You heard me, Commander. He’s with me.’
‘Aye sir, I’ll need a report on this.’
‘You’ll have one,’ he smirked and security left. Turning back to me, he added. ‘Regardless of what you now remember, and I think it’s a lot more than you did, Gamma Canaris should still be top priority for you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the answers you find there will help you find out who brought you five hundred years into the future.’
‘I don’t suppose you know the answer to that?’
‘No, I don’t, but I can get Temporal Investigations to unseal your file once you’ve been there. That should be incentive enough.’
‘How can you do that?’
‘I created the department in the twenty-second century. Captain Archer came to me after he retired from Starfleet service, and told me some details of the Temporal Cold War he left out of his official reports. I created the Department for Temporal Investigations then and there to make sure that all future generations would know that tampering with the timeline carries a strict penalty.’
I nodded, dumbstruck.
‘Before you go back to the Wellington, I have something for you. You left it in the nineteenth century.’
‘My sword?’
Connor nodded. ‘Exactly. While the Prize is not our driving passion anymore, there are still some who try. You may need it.’
‘Why was I lied to, about being born in the twenty-third century?’
‘The DTI created that file so Starfleet wouldn’t look too deeply. But as I said, crewman, if you want to learn the truth, you still need to go to Gamma Canaris.’
‘But if I’m five hundred years old, I’m not any relation to Zefram Cochrane.’
‘Not exactly, no.’
Star Trek: 500 will return
August Challenge
A Blast from the Past
1,427 words
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41870.3
(November 14th, 2364)
During the last few days I have been interviewed by no fewer than five Temporal Investigations agents and they are still no closer to figuring out who I am or where I came from, and until they have even the slightest clue, there is no chance of getting out to Gamma Canaris since they don’t believe that story. So I’m stuck on Starbase 231 while the Wellington is solving another one of the galaxy’s problems. I’ve taken the time between interviews to catch up on more history but to be honest, I don’t have the interest at the moment. Ever since I came aboard, I’ve had this nagging suspicion that someone is watching me, but there seems to be very few people here and I find it somehow discomforting.
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41871.9
(November 15th, 2364)
At last the interviews are over and I have been “released” from the custody of TI. I have another three days before the Wellington can return to pick me so I find myself on unexpected leave. Starbase 231 is unusual in that it may be a Federation starbase but it is actually owned by a capitalist group that designed and maintained a shield around the planet, and administrated by Starfleet. The nagging feeling I’ve had over the last few days still haunts me. I know there is someone watching me, I can feel it in my head, but I don’t know why, or who. And that bothers me. I have enough on my plate with Temporal Investigations sealing my file and Starfleet Medical trying to evaluate me all the time, I don’t need an added complication. I couldn’t go down to the planet, that was off-limits to Starfleet personnel, a condition of the joint running of the starbase, but with little else to occupy my time, I decided that I would find a way down there and learn why this capitalist entity didn’t want anyone nosing around. After all, these days there were faster ways to regenerate an ozone layer.
Personal log, Ashley Turner, stardate 41874.2
(November 15th, 2364)
Wiping the transporter log after beaming through the planetary shield was relatively easy, since their own technology was about forty years behind Starfleet’s, but once on the surface, I found something unusual. I had been reading up on Earth’s history for months now, and I recognised several things about this city that I had materialised in. It resembled New York City from the late twentieth century. Hodgkin’s Law of Parallel Planetary Development would seem to have taken place here, but I was surprised that no one from Starfleet had bothered to even try to investigate. The tricorder informed me that the planet’s natural ozone layer had in fact reasserted itself some time ago.
‘I was wondering when someone would come down. Interesting that it would be you,’ a man said.
I turned around and saw a man in his early thirties, dark brown hair, wearing denim jeans, a leather jacket and black gloves, and a trenchcoat. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Not now, but I did.’
‘When?’
‘Five hundred years ago, on Earth.’
‘I was born a century ago, and according to Starfleet, no one had heard of this world before we made our deal with the Corporation to administer the Starbase.’
The man smiled. ‘I travelled here the same way you did, by starship. I heard that there might be a problem and a friend of mine sent me to help you. The Shield Corporation will be dealt with by the natives shortly, in a few months, the way it is supposed to happen. You and I shouldn’t be here.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Hey!’ another voice called. ‘No Starfleet allowed.’
‘We’d better go,’ the man said.
I tapped my combadge and both of us materialised back in my temporary quarters aboard the starbase.
‘Now tell me who you are,’ I told him.
‘First, I want to show you who you are.’
‘How?’
He suddenly withdrew a sword from his trenchcoat and impaled me in the chest. I gasped and fell to the floor, but instead of blacking out, I remembered something from before I was transported to the twenty-third century, some incident from the eighteenth.
* * *
Kent
March 2nd 1864
The tavern was closed and I desperately needed somewhere to stay so I wandered down the road another few miles until I found a found a house. I knocked on the door and found a sword in my face. Backing up, I tripped over a brick and fell to the ground, but was at least able to see the bearer. He advanced on me with the sword and swung downward, I brought my own sword up and held his at bay.
‘Who are you?’ I asked as we held blades.
‘My name is Connor.’
‘I’m Ashley, why are you trying to kill me? I just need a place to stay for the night.’
‘Do you not know of the Prize?’ McLeod asked.
‘No, what prize?’
Connor sighed, and helped me up. We entered the house and over a bottle of mead, he explained everything to me, recognising in me the same as he was. I realised that the Prize was attainable, but not yet, maybe not for centuries.
* * *
‘We fought two months later, just before the flood,’ I said to him.
‘Aye, that we did, but you held yourself well and I promised you that you would live that day.’
‘I did, but I still need to know how I ended up here, in the twenty-fourth century, and why are you here?’
‘The Prize is a falsehood. There’s no way to kill every single one of us in the galaxy. And as time went on, many of us realised that we could get on with whatever we wanted to do, there was plenty of space for us out there.’
‘You don’t mind anymore, being immortal?’
‘Some of the things we were once told were lies. We can have children, but only with other immortals, and only if they’re biologically compatible. I have an Andorian daughter now, she lives on Mars working for Starfleet.’
‘Do they know about us?’
Connor nodded. ‘They know, and it is in the file of most serving officers. ‘My cousin is an Admiral, has been serving since the twenty-second century. He’s retired now, but still comes in every now and then.’
The door chimed.
‘Excuse me,’ I said and walked to the door. Connor stepped out of sight.
The door opened and two security officers entered, followed by the head of Starbase security. ‘Come with me.’
‘What now?’
‘You’ve violated the rules of this outpost.’
‘It’s alright, Commander, he’s with me,’ Connor said.
‘Captain?’
‘You heard me, Commander. He’s with me.’
‘Aye sir, I’ll need a report on this.’
‘You’ll have one,’ he smirked and security left. Turning back to me, he added. ‘Regardless of what you now remember, and I think it’s a lot more than you did, Gamma Canaris should still be top priority for you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the answers you find there will help you find out who brought you five hundred years into the future.’
‘I don’t suppose you know the answer to that?’
‘No, I don’t, but I can get Temporal Investigations to unseal your file once you’ve been there. That should be incentive enough.’
‘How can you do that?’
‘I created the department in the twenty-second century. Captain Archer came to me after he retired from Starfleet service, and told me some details of the Temporal Cold War he left out of his official reports. I created the Department for Temporal Investigations then and there to make sure that all future generations would know that tampering with the timeline carries a strict penalty.’
I nodded, dumbstruck.
‘Before you go back to the Wellington, I have something for you. You left it in the nineteenth century.’
‘My sword?’
Connor nodded. ‘Exactly. While the Prize is not our driving passion anymore, there are still some who try. You may need it.’
‘Why was I lied to, about being born in the twenty-third century?’
‘The DTI created that file so Starfleet wouldn’t look too deeply. But as I said, crewman, if you want to learn the truth, you still need to go to Gamma Canaris.’
‘But if I’m five hundred years old, I’m not any relation to Zefram Cochrane.’
‘Not exactly, no.’
Star Trek: 500 will return
That being said, this was a terrific crossover story. An immortal in the 24th century has some fantastic possibilities. 
