Star Trek: Enterprise "Cold War"

Star Trek: Enterprise
“Cold War”
By Jack D. Elmlinger



Premise: The crew of the NX-01 discover the vital answers to some important unanswered questions as the secrets of the Temporal Cold War are finally revealed and resolved, ending years of speculation. Meanwhile, thanks to ongoing events, another conflict brews in the shadows of a distant world…


Featuring the entire crew of the Enterprise, NX-01, some familiar faces and some deadly new enemies!



PROLOGUE
The Escape



His shields were low but he had no other choice.

Hammering at his control pad, he violently steered the small vessel away from his homeworld. Proximity alarms were blaring, filling his small cockpit with unbearable noise. He was approaching the starbases and spacedocks that surrounded the planet. He was actually approaching one in particular, a little too closely. Adjusting his vector, he accelerated with full power to the single impulse engine behind him. Why couldn’t his department have added warp engines? Then, at least, he would have time to input his commands before…

Weapons fire struck the durasteel hull, leaving black scorch marks behind. Inside, the pilot cried out as his head slammed into the bulkhead above. He started to bleed, feeling the warm liquid of blood trickle down from his brow and over his ear.

More weapons fire narrowly missed his tiny craft. That was one of the plus points of the design which was small enough to escape an accurate disruptor lock from a Warbird. Pressing a few buttons, he turned to the limited viewscreen that he had installed, only a few weeks beforehand.

The previous test pilots had no need for viewscreens in the other models. It was only his foreknowledge of his fate that allowed him to rig this vessel with what he needed to escape. The viewscreen flickered before displaying the aft sensor data.

Yeah, it was bad.

There were three of them.

Three Valdore-class Warbirds were closing fast.

The screen flickered again. Somebody was breaking through the lockout, attempting to communicate. A face appeared.

“Stand down, Relvek! Return the ship to the laboratory and give yourself up!”

Just a few more seconds…

There. The lockout returned, and the face disappeared from the viewscreen.

It didn’t please the Commander of the lead Warbird to be cut off mid-speech. In response, more disruptor fire raked the tiny capsule. Sparks flew around from various seams in the controls, showering the pilot in flakes of debris. He broke into a sweat… Well, more of a sweat than he had been in, anyway. In a mad panic, he read a computerized display.

Damn.

His shields had completely collapsed with that last volley. The next shot would destroy him, and the Warbirds speeding towards him knew exactly that.

This was it. This was the moment. This had to work.

Do or die.

He chose to do.

Just before his capsule disappeared into the artificial vortex and left the 29th century far behind, the lights flickered back on inside the cockpit. Turning, Relvek wiped the green blood from his pointed ear.

Goodbye, Romulus.

Hello, 22nd century.


* * * *


CHAPTER ONE
Hidden Treasures of the Market

Captain’s Starlog, March 18th, 2156;


We’ve entered orbit of Kanar IV, a trading outpost in the Kanrthan system. Admiral Gardener is hopeful that the Kanarthans will be open to allowing Human expeditions to establish a small base of operations on the planet to facilitate the rapidly growing Starfleet. Since diplomacy can often be slow business, I’ve allowed some of the crew to sample the delights of the exotic marketplace below.


Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker could do nothing but turn his nose up at the … whatever it was. It looked like an apple but it was blue, covered in spines, and it stank worse than Doctor Phlox’s feet after a hibernation sleep cycle. The trader, a native Kanarthan, looked disappointed at the Chief Engineer’s reaction and searched for something else instead. The Kanarthans were friendly humanoids with pale topaz skin covering hints of cranial ridges and pleasing bright eyes. However, this, like all marketplaces across the Galaxy, wasn’t a place for being friendly. This was a place for the hard sell, and yet more fruit was shoved towards the visiting party from Enterprise.

“No… no, thanks… No, I’m fine… Thank you,” Trip attempted to excuse himself.

“You’ve lost your sense of adventure, Commander,” observed Malcolm Reed, the Lieutenant acting as Trip’s tag-along buddy for the purpose of this visit. “There was a time that you would eat anything put in front of you!”

“Anything that didn’t smell like Porthos had already eaten half of it…,” lamented Trip, finally escaping the fruit stall and heading deeper into the busy market. “You fancy going back for a taste?”

“Come on,” chuckled the British armory officer, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s find the Captain.”

Captain Jonathan Archer was busy being cornered by another trader, another Kanarthan, and this one was selling clothes. The clothes that he was suggesting for the Captain, however, were not exactly the height of Human fashion. A shocking electric pink shirt, entirely lacking sleeves of any kind, was presented with much excitement. Trying his best to look impressed, Archer nodded gingerly and displayed an expression of mock-interest. Noticing this awkward position, Trip jumped at the chance to make light of the situation. Approaching from his Captain’s left, he took hold of the shirt and held it higher, above the shoulders so that everybody could see. There were a good number of Enterprise crew members around, and a good number of them saw their commanding officer and the distasteful attire. There would be stories in the Mess Hall tonight, that was for sure.

His mission complete, Trip grinned as Archer sighed with woe.

“Well, I like it!,” exclaimed the younger man. “Something for your next vacation on Risa?”

“I suppose anything’s better than one of your shirts,” the Captain retorted, returning the shirt to the Kanarthan and making his exit.

“Seriously, you find anything good down here?,” Trip continued.

“Nothing that we’re urgently lacking. What about you, Malcolm? Anything take your fancy?”

“There were a couple of injector casings back at that junkyard that looked to still be half-full,” replied Reed, always flexing his initiative. “Turns out, for the price that the owner was asking, we would be better off just leaving behind a few Shuttlepods.”

“Oh, I think I’ve already traded one Shuttlepod for some medical supplies,” Archer joked. “And we need the other one to get back to the ship, remember?”

“Everything's that bad?,” asked Trip, avoiding the fruit seller again as they passed by.

“Let’s just say that if Starfleet does establish an outpost here, whoever’s manning it better have well-lined pockets.”

The three senior staff officers all chuckled to themselves, meandering slowly through the stalls and keeping an eye on the storm clouds above them which looked ready to burst. As they did, distracted by the bright colors and strange wares on sale, none of them noticed the shadowy figure following them, tracking them through the crows. Ducking, the figure disappeared behind a pile of crates. He could take his time. Their uniforms stood out from the otherwise diverse public. But what was this? Were they preparing to leave? He had to make his move, and make it now. His target was the tallest. The Captain. He broke into a short run, overtaking them and turning to face them.

Reed saw it happen first. The sudden stop and turn alerted him to danger immediately, and his hand automatically went for his phase pistol. As Trip and Archer caught up with the armory officer, they noticed the figure stopping them was a Yridian.

An information dealer. Usually duplicitous and scheming too.

Great.

“You are Archer of Enterprise, yes?,” the Yridian stammered, his voice raspy.

“What of it?,” replied the Captain.

“Four years ago, you found a ship matching this picture, no?”

With his four-fingered hand, the Yridian held out a datapad. On it was a still photograph of a small gray capsule. Immediately, Archer froze. He recognized the ship. Four years ago in 2152, he had come across a pod just like it. A time pod. Containing the body of a long-dead Human. That discovery had almost cost him his ship too. The Suliban and the Tholians had been all over it.

“How do you know about that?,” demanded Red, annoyed at the uncertainty surrounding the encounter.

“This image… was taken ten hours ago in the Genaar Nebula. Two lightyears from Kanar IV,” the Yridian continued.

That information shocked and surprised the three Humans. It wouldn’t have been difficult to learn about the incident, four years ago. Hell, three different races had been involved and a Vulcan ship had been destroyed! That wasn’t the real question. The real question was to consider, if it was another time pod, what was it doing here? Wasn’t the Temporal Cold War over? The question that Trip desperately wanted to ask was a different one. He knew what the Captain’s reaction would be but he voiced his concern nonetheless.

“Why is it our problem?”

“Trip,” Archer stopped him,” you know what this is. You’re damn right it’s our problem.”

He turned back towards the Yridian, who appeared to be greedily pleased with Jonathan Archer’s reactions to the image.

“For you to give us the coordinates of this capsule, and come with us to the Genaar Nebula, you name your price.”


* * * *


CHAPTER TWO
Deflecting the Issues


Stepping out from his Ready Room, Captain Archer walked across the Bridge of the Enterprise, NX-01 and joined his Vulcan First Officer, T’Pol at the science station. He was followed, annoyingly closely, by the Yridian information dealer that they had met on the planet’s surface. His name turned out to be Dahlen Frik and he was most cooperative when talking about money. Less cooperative when discussing that which interested Jonathan Archer, though, which had been somewhat troublesome during the last twenty minutes. With her usual blank expression, T’Pol watched Frik tap away at the controls. The eyes on the Bridge all joined hers, not trusting the Yridian further than they could throw him. He concluded his commands, leaning back to allow Archer to inspect the screen.

“There. This is where the capsule is. Genaar Nebula. Dangerous.”

“How did you come to know of this?,” T’Pol asked skeptically. “And how did you know to find Captain Archer on Kanar IV?”

“I use the nebula for… business,” Frik slowly and uncomfortably revealed. “Sometimes, it’s good to lie low, yes? Nobody approaches it. Dangerous levels of radiation. As for finding your Captain, he is… How do you say it? Conspicuous, at best.”

“This radiation?,” Archer pressed him. “How do you get around it?”

“I modified my main deflector to create an inverse plasma field. It breaks down harmful components.”

“T’Pol?”

After a few quick readings of the coordinates provided by their new Yridian friend, the Vulcan raised her eyebrow and reported her findings. “Our hull is sufficient to repel seventy-five percent of the radiological particles found within the nebula. I recommend the inverse plasma field be created as a precaution, nevertheless.”

“Contact Deflector Control, and tell Lieutenant Johnson to make the modifications en route.”

Archer left the science station, walked over to his Captain’s chair and sat down, surrounded by the comfortable leather. He weighed multiple decisions in his head as he did so. If this was a time pod just like the one that they had encountered in 2152, it could hold valuable answers. Or it could represent a significant new danger to the sector, the resurgence of the time-travelling factions involved. Either way, he felt a responsibility to find out. Sure, the last time he had met the time agent Daniels, he had told him quite forcefully to leave Enterprise alone… but that was different. The timeline was supposed to be safe. Now, it looked as if it was in peril once more.

“Travis, set a course for the Genaar Nebula,” he ordered. “Warp Two.”


* * * *


As the sleek NX-class starship broke orbit of Kanar IV and, with a flash, jumped to twice the speed of light, Lieutenant Jason Johnson down in Deflector Control got the message from T’Pol’s station. Turning to his only colleague in the small computerized compartment found at the front of the saucer section, E Deck, he smiled. A tall blonde man, young for his rank, he had the best job on the ship. Standing with him was Ensign Gavin Stenning, a shorter dark-haired crew member with a wicked sense of humor. It had been two years since they had declared their feelings for one another. It was common knowledge among the crew about their relationship. Spending their days cooped up together in Deflector Control, it was almost inevitable, although it helped that both men had the same preference when it came to… well, the obvious. The only small issue was the rank issue. With Jason acting as Gavin’s superior, he was definitely in command and it had caused minor problems over the years. But then, what relationship was perfect?

“Got an order here about a nebula,” Lieutenant Johnson said, making his boyfriend turn around to face him. “Let’s start setting up an inverse plasma field. Orders from A Deck.”

“Do you think it’s got something to do with the Yridian that the Captain came back with?,” Gavin asked him, tapping his console as he spoke.

“Is there anything that happens on this ship that you don’t know about?,” Jason laughed.

“Um…,” the Ensign playfully adopted mock thoughtfulness. “No, not really, no.”

“Damn, I sent you out for coffee and I get coffee, plus a gossip report…”

They both laughed as they worked.

Little did they realize that they were being watched.

Right above them, hanging upside down from the ceiling.

Invisible to the naked eye.

A Suliban.


* * * *


CHAPTER THREE
Present Guy

Relvek had been unconscious. He didn’t know for how long… although, did that matter?

Lifting his head slowly to avoid the splitting headache that he had developed, he looked from monitor to monitor. They were all smashed, and broken beyond repair. The only remaining light aboard was flickering, but he managed to see that his flight controls were destroyed, too. Going nowhere fast, the Romulan scientist decided to wipe some of the green blood from his temples and ears while using the only functional interface. A temporal scan… Thank the Elements for small mercies. With the blood cleaned up, the computer finished with the calculations. The computer was so fast, and Relvek was the one to thank, pushing for the biometric circuits instead of the regular Romulan nodes.

The result was in.

Estimated year: 2156

It worked! A few years later than he had hoped but it had worked!

The first successful time pod test, and he had no way of returning to Romulus to prove them wrong. A twinge of sadness coursed through his body. He checked some of the other systems. The interphasic cloaking device was holding as it had always done. To the casual observer, especially in this primitive century, his vessel would appear to be nothing more than a small, one-man capsule. Better to avoid suspicion that way, Relvek smiled to himself, remembering a history lesson that he once had about the dangers of interphasic cloaking devices. Something about Starfleet intervention and pushing a Romulan agent through a wall and into space… or whatever it had been.

Damn, his head hurt!

Also it was pleasing to note that the dampening field that held the temporal radiation within the safe confines of the time pod was functional. That was a nice comfort, knowing that if he ever managed to land this blasted thing, he wouldn’t keep skipping backwards through time like a broken record.

The working scanner stopped delivering information on time displacement for a moment, sounding an alarm. With no screen to read from, Relvek couldn’t know what was to happen next.

Two loud thuds. Something had struck the hull.

The vessel began to shake. He held on with worry spread across his face.

Unless, of course…

The sound of machinery, something retracting and something closing. The shaking stopped with a final heavy drop and Relvek came to a resting position. There was a gravity change. It felt close to Romulus sea-level but he knew that he hadn’t just been through a re-entry process. That could only leave one thing.

The hatch to his left started to open.

Light poured in.

Blinking through the haze of surprise, Relvek saw a collection of people waiting for him. Some of them held weapons.

Then he recognized the lead figure and smiled to himself.

“Captain Archer.”


* * * *


CHAPTER FOUR
The Webs We Weave

T’Pol was skeptical on the best of days.

Despite her long six years aboard Enterprise proving many times over that the Vulcan Science Directorate had shortcomings when it came to time travel, seeing the battleship-gray capsule floating in the heart of the Genaar Nebula like that made her old skepticism resurface. The Captain’s team should have the pilot by now, but the Bridge was quiet. Lieutenant Reed was absent, no doubt waving a phase pistol around the Launch Bay this instant, leaving only Ensign Mayweather with the Vulcan science officer. The wait was tolerable for her mental discipline but she could see Travis squirming at his station.

Humans… no patience.

The capsule was aboard and her scans showed that the pilot was alive but injured. The answers would be forthcoming. All in good time.

The turbolift door slid open at that point, unleashing Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed. Both of them wore concerned expressions, the obvious weight of their discovery being a heavy one.

“Captain, Dahlen Frik is asking for permission to undock and leave,” T’Pol stated, not ignoring her regular duties. “With, of course, a few closing remarks about his payment.”

“Tell him to get lost,” snapped the Captain. “He’s not getting anything else from us.”

“Shall I kick him into the airlock as well?”

For a Vulcan, T’Pol was remarkably in tune with the emotions of her shipmates. Archer took a moment before walking over to her science station and leaned over to whisper in her ear. As she listened, her expression came very close to something resembling shock. But there was one obvious word that caught her off-guard.

“The pilot is in Sickbay now. He passed out in the Launch Bay, but he knew me by name. I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. Get this, though, he’s apparently Romulan.”

“How can Phlox be certain?”

“He’s not one hundred percent certain. We don’t exactly know anything concrete about the Romulans but after that minefield, and then that marauder…”

“I assume you’ll have some questions for him when he regains consciousness.”

“You want to be there?”

“Indeed,” T’Pol confirmed, raising her eyebrow.


* * * *


Aboard his small shuttle, which was happily filled with whatever he had managed to squeeze from Captain Archer, the Yridian information dealer Dahlen Frik undocked with Enterprise and headed in the opposite direction. Back into the Genaar Nebula to lay low. Some of his regular clients weren’t exactly friends of the ever-expanding Starfleet. There was potential for trouble there, potential for laws and regulations to get in their way. Bah… that would be a concern for another time. Right now, he had a message to deliver. Activating his long-range communications grid, he waited for the security code input screen and watched the pale green head and crimson armored shoulders appear.

A Suliban.

“This is Frik,” he hissed into the monitor. “I delivered your agent. I have just undocked.”

“Thank you. Your payment is waiting at the designated coordinates.”

Closing the communications link with his Suliban paymaster, the Yridian set a course and engaged at full impulse power. Little did he know that upon arrival, his ship would be destroyed. The Suliban Cabal left nothing to chance, and no loose threads to be pulled later. After years of dealing with the Earth vessel, they had learned the wisdom of caution.

And that made them all the more dangerous.


* * * *

 

CHAPTER FIVE
Answers


Relvek was sitting upright in his dirty black suit when Captain Archer, T’Pol and Commander ‘Trip’ Tucker entered Sickbay. With Enterprise underway at Warp Two and heading for a rendezvous with a Vulcan Suurok-class vessel, there was time to get some answers. Watching the three senior staff members enter, Phlox intercepted them between the door and the bed. Relvek watched with interest as the Denobulan tried his best to mediate the situation.

“He’s been under a great deal of stress, Captain,” Phlox relayed. “His physical injuries are minor but if you push him…”

“It’s just a few questions, Doctor,” Archer replied, walking around his medical officer.

T’Pol and Trip followed their Captain to the side of the bed. Relvek looked at them, his Romulan features not being easy to hide. This was the moment that he had been waiting for, secretly been dreading, but he knew it was his only hope of survival. Annoyingly, in his line of work, his opportunities for salvation were limited at best. Thank you very much, Tal Shiar.

“You’re a Romulan,” Archer began. “How do you know my name?”

“I know a great deal about you, Captain. We have met once before.”

There was a truth to that. Archer did recognize the voice, but he couldn’t place it. As Relvek explained, the memory came flooding back along with the realization.

“I was the one who warned you about the Xindi attack on Earth. I am the benefactor of the Suliban Cabal. This also, regretfully, makes me the one who has, on several occasions, interfered with your mission. For that, I apologize. Orders are indeed orders.”

“You’re from the 29th Century!”

In a rage, his face screwed up into an expression of anger. Captain Archer lunged forward and seized the collar of the Romulan’s suit. Their faces were inches apart and shaking with the outburst, both men stared at each other in silence. Trip didn’t react. He wanted to see this guy roughed up, the meddling son of a bitch. Meanwhile, T’Pol and Phlox responded with shock. T’Pol was closer and placed her hand on Archer’s shoulder.

“Captain!,” she exclaimed.

Letting go, Archer stepped back as Relvek fell back onto the bed once more.

“That pod that you were travelling in is from the 31st century. We’ve seen one before,” Trip said, deciding to cut in and take over from his unstable commanding officer. “And the pilot was Human, not Romulan!”

“That timeship is one of a handful of prototypes, all unsuccessful attempts at actual time travel. In my century, we can only communicate through time, not travel through it. I am a scientist, and part of a team developing those timeships. We sent test subjects on trial runs. The timeship that you encountered was one of the failed tests. It had jumped erratically around time, and the last destination before it reached you was the 31st Century. The pilot was hyperaged by the process.”

“You use Humans as guinea pigs?,” seethed Archer, who was now pacing the Sickbay, trying to comprehend the mass of information coming his way.

“Believe me, it was not my decision to make. In the future, the Romulans make many enemies, Captain. There are those in high places who wish to dispose of certain political prisoners. Our project was a useful outlet.”

There were a few moments of silence as the crew members present assimilated the explanation. T’Pol was the first to speak.

“Why are you here?”

“Your actions ended the conflict, Captain. You restored the timelines and reset history. Your actions resulted in my failure. The government of the future Romulus was not best pleased with my failure. I became a hunter man and you can understand that in the 29th Century, there are few places that one can hide from the Romulan Star Empire. My only choice was to steal the last remaining timeship and escape to where I could be guaranteed safety.”

“2156? Aboard Enterprise… why?,” Archer demanded to know, stepping forward again. “Why here?”

“I am requesting asylum aboard your vessel, Captain.”

“What makes you think that I’ll grant it?”

“You are the only person that I have ever encountered who is guided by his morality. I am in grave danger, and you won’t let me die.”

“How are you in danger?,” T'Pol logically inquired. “You have just admitted to taking the last of your time travel ships from the 29th Century. Your government cannot follow you here.”

“Indeed, but I provided the Suliban Cabal of this century with the equipment to locate temporal incursions. They’ll know of my arrival and be hunting me. We abandoned them, Captain, at the end of the war. They are lost, confused, and that means that they’re dangerous. They’ll be after me and when they realize that I have come back through time to escape, they will kill me. I am a traitor.”

This new news was troubling. Turning towards Trip, Archer issued a reactionary order. “Get to the Bridge, and start scanning for Suliban cell ships.”

“Aye, Captain.”

As Commander Tucker departed Sickbay, Relvek had one last piece of information to share with Captain Archer. It was the most important, and the most devastating piece yet. Choosing his words carefully, his eyes grew wide as he imparted the knowledge that he had to the Captain.

“The Temporal Cold War never ended, Captain. You reset the timeline but there are other fronts.”

“I had a man’s word that it was over…”

“Your friend Daniels lied to you. Expect to see him again, though. My presence here will most certainly restart the conflict.”


* * * *


CHAPTER SIX
Crippled by the Cabal


Down in Deflector Control at the front of E-Deck, Lieutenant Johnson and Ensign Stenning had no idea of the revelations being uncovered in Sickbay, despite Gavin’s knack for gossip. They were busy recalibrating the deflector’s output modulators, which all long words and technobabble aside, is a tricky thing to do while Enterprise is traveling at warp speed. With a deadline to meet on the calibration, they had no choice but to request an all-stop and to shut down the deflector. As it was so often noted by the fresh-faced inexperienced crew all of those years ago, without the deflect, a single tiny particle of space dust could punch a hole right through, say, the reactor. Then there would be a gigantic mess, there was no question of that.

It was lucky that Jason Johnson turned when he did. Spotting the possible mistake, he grabbed his boyfriend and colleague by the shoulder and yanked him away from his console.

“Be careful!,” he warned him. “You were about to put your PADD down on this button!”

Gavin sheepishly saw what button that it was. It was for the emergency deflector override. He would have shut down the entire system and forced Enterprise to a complete dead stop.

“Whoops…” He bowed his head. “Sorry!”

“I should reprimand you for carelessness on duty, Ensign…”

With a flash of his winning smile, which always worked for whatever the occasion was, Stenning looked back up at his superior officer.

“... but I guess I can reprimand you later.” Jason played along. “Say, when we get off duty?”

“Yes, sir!,” laughed Gavin, returning to his work.

Neither of them were expecting the sudden shock of what happened next.

From above them, the Suliban agent dropped right on top of Lieutenant Johnson. As his head slammed against the deck plating, sending him into a painful unconscious state, Ensign Stenning turned around and found himself barely able to move. It only lasted for a second, and suddenly he found his limbs working. He reached for a phase pistol kept to the left of his console. Unfortunately, he reached too slowly.

Prepared for the moment, the Suliban simply fired his disruptor.

Job done.


* * * *


When the deflector dish went offline during a warp flight, an emergency warning klaxon blared throughout the NX-01. Echoing around Sickbay, it pulled Captain Archer away from his current duty of questioning Relvek. He fled to the Bridge, closely followed by T’Pol, leaving the 29th Century Romulan lying on his bed. So… it had started. The fight to capture him had begun, and it had begun sooner than he had expected.

Emerging from the turbolift onto the Bridge, Archer went directly to Malcolm Reed. “Lieutenant!”

“I don’t understand it!,” the British armory officer reported. “The main deflector has been shut down!”

“Drop to impulse!,” the Captain ordered, spinning his head towards Travis Mayweather.

“Already done!,” Travis Mayweather answered him, his face showing a picture of concern. “And I’ve had to secure the ship from impulse! We’re at a total stop!”

Almost punching the intercom button on his Captain’s chair, Archer clenched his fists. “Archer to Deflector Control!,” he barked. “Lieutenant Johnson?”

Nothing.

“Jason! Come in!”

With Enterprise unable to move in space, with no working deflector array and with the most precious of patients down in Sickbay, Jonathan Archer didn’t think that it could get much worse. When T’Pol spoke next, he was proved irritatingly wrong, only making his fists clenched tighter until his knuckles glower white.

“Captain,” the Vulcan science officer said with alarm,” there are Suliban vessels incoming.”


* * * *

 

CHAPTER SEVEN
Dead in the Water


There were eight of them. Eight cell ships, followed by one large cruiser.

Swarming around the motionless Enterprise like a cloud of angry hornets, they opened fire, deliberately striking non-vital sections of the hull. It was a tactical ploy to strike fear into the helpless Earth vessel without endangering the point of the attack. They were here for somebody and they were here for something. The larger cruiser moved through a break in the weapons’ fire, positioning itself above the saucer section. They were preparing to tow Enterprise away, a captive starship, taking them to their Helix deep within the nearby Kanar II gas giant.

On the Bridge, Captain Archer knew exactly why they were here. He wasn’t surprised when Ensign Hoshi Sato, the beautiful communications officer, turned her head in panic. Pressing her earpiece against her ear, she relayed the incoming hail.

“Captain, they’re demanding to speak!”

Silently, Archer nodded his head with a grimace. The viewscreen was suddenly filled with the image of a Suliban soldier. That green skin, those deep crimson clothes… those menacing yellow eyes and that rotting teeth.

“Jonathan Archer! Power down your systems and prepare to be boarded!”

“I’m not going to let you take him!,” Archer snapped back, ignoring all of the pretexts of diplomacy and getting right to the point. “He’s requested asylum aboard Enterprise. He’s not going anywhere!”

“You will be boarded and have little choice in the matter, asylum claim or not!,” chased the Suliban commander.

“Go to Hell!”

Upon jerking his hand across his throat, the Captain watched the transmission get cut before he returned to his command chair and glared at Malcolm Reed. “Phase cannons?”

“Charged and locked, sir. Just give the order.”

“Fire!”

The outer hull of the saucer section unleashed the folding phase cannon turrets as Malcolm finished entering his targeting calculations. Using both barrels, Enterprise struck the Suliban cruiser, hitting the engines and the tractor beam emitter. In response, two of the swarming cell ships opened fire on the warp nacelles, sending sparks flying into the depths of deep space.

T’Pol flinched as a console behind her exploded. She was halfway through confirming her scans when something caught her eye. It was a sign of trouble. “Captain, we have ten Suliban biosigns. They’re closing on Sickbay!”

“They’re after Relvek!,” Lieutenant Reed exclaimed.

“You’re with me!,” Archer shouted at his armory officer, dashing for the turbolift door.


* * * *


In Sickbay, the two MACO guards posted beside the door were no match for the gaggle of Suliban soldiers that moved through the corridors towards their Romulan target. Three of them were crawling along the walls and the ceiling. When the highly-trained MACOs aimed to fire at them, they only aimed at the standing ones. The disruptor beams came from above, knocking them both down with ease. Two Suliban had been shot by the MACO weapons’ fire and a third remained behind to attach transport tags to their bodies. With the orange shimmer of a transporter beam, they were returned to the safety of their cruiser.

Inside Sickbay, Phlox stood resolute with a phase pistol. Standing beside him, Relvek was genuinely scared for his life. The Captain didn’t believe his story quite yet but it was completely authentic. The Suliban would kill him for abandoning them in 2153. There was no question of that. His only hope was Enterprise, and Jonathan Archer.

Phlox wasn’t trained to react in combat situations. When the Suliban stun grenade rolled in through the door, it showed. Both men were incapacitated immediately by the loud bang and powerful flash.

Along with all of the animals in their cages.

One minute later, Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed burst into Sickbay, waving their phase pistols ahead of them and scanning all corners of the room. There, on the floor, was Phlox. He was completely unconscious with his weapon in hand.

No sign of Relvek.

He had been taken.

Back on the Bridge, T’Pol and the others watched helplessly as the Suliban cruiser and the swarm of cell ships moved away, jumping to warp with their mission complete.


* * * *


CHAPTER SEVEN
Damage Report

It was almost unbearable to watch.

Turning away from the body of his boyfriend as the sheet was pulled over his lifeless face, Lieutenant Jason Johnson fought back his tears. Standing by his side was Captain Archer and Ensign Mayweather. There was an obvious reason for the Captain to be present but Travis was there in his capacity as a friend. He had known Ensign Gavin Stenning. The two of them had worked out together in the gym and had a friendly competition going for weight, each day. Placing a comforting hand on the shoulder of Jason, the helmsman led him away from the corpse. As he passed by his Captain, the deflector control officer paused and stared deep into his eyes.

“Find them, sir,” he growled. “Find them and kill them.”

There was no proper response. As Travis led Jason away, Phlox bowed his head sadly.

Archer stood, looking at the sheet-covered body of Ensign Gavin Stenning. So young, so innocent, always smiling, and full of life. That life had now been cut short by a Suliban in cold blood. He could empathize with the loss that Jason was feeling right now. No, he hadn’t lost a lover but he had lost a member of his crew. The crew that he was supposed to protect. He should have seen it coming. Taking Relvek aboard was a mistake.

He wasn’t even aware of T’Pol approaching. She had a status report in her hand. “Captain.”

Turning around towards her, Archer cleared his head and renewed his determination.

“Commander Tucker reports that he’ll have the deflector online again in an hour,” she continued. “Unfortunately, one of the cell ships knocked out our long-range sensors. We have lost Relvek and the Suliban fleet. While we will be able to move, we have nothing to suggest a heading.”

“What about the Suliban who did this?,” the Captain demanded, gesturing towards the dead Ensign behind him.

“Records show that an airlock was opened during the firefight. We know that the Suliban are genetically-engineered to exist for short periods in the vacuum of space. It seems that he is gone too.”

Archer paused, thinking backwards. Thinking logically. If T’Pol had been a mind reader, she would have been impressed.

“How did the Suliban get aboard in the first place?”

“There is only one possibility,” the Vulcan science officer concluded after some thought.

“Our Yridian friend wasn’t so friendly after all,” seethed Archer, literally leaping into action as he stormed past Phlox and T’Pol. When he reached the intercom, he slammed it with the palm of his hand. “Archer to the Bridge. As soon as we can get underway, set a course back to Kanar IV. We’re looking for Dahlen Frik.”

“Understood, sir,” came the voice of Hoshi Sato.

Rejoining T’Pol in the center of Sickbay which was unfortunately where he was spending a lot of his time lately, the Captain continued his train of thought, eliminating all of the possible angles from which to view the complex situation and the possible resurgence of the Temporal Cold War. he hated such matters with a passion like a Klingon hated romance novels. Yet, as the Captain, he had to process such thoughts.

“Did they take the pod?,” he asked, referring to the Romulan time-traveling vessel in Launch Bay Two.

“Curiously, no. It would seem that their intention to steal it became secondary once they captured Relvek.”

“Yeah, but there’s not much that we can do with it…”

“Captain, I have to ask…” T’Pol lowered her PADD, sounding uneasy. “Should we be so concerned with saving Relvek from the Suliban? He is hardly our greatest ally. All that we can confirm for certain is that he is a Romulan, and if there is one thing that we have learned, it’s that Romulans cannot be trusted.”

“Believe me. I want him back,” Archer replied, a hint of a smile creeping across his face,” if only to knock him on his ass and throw him in the Brig.”


* * * *


CHAPTER EIGHT
Investigations

Captain’s Starlog, March 19th 2156;


By working around the clock, Commander Tucker has managed to restore power to the navigational deflector, a few hours ago. We’re now entering orbit of Kanar IV, having returned to try and locate the Yridian information dealer who pointed us in the direction of Relvek’s vessel. Unfortunately, I get the feeling that he’s not going to want to come quietly.


“I’ve found his ship.”

On the Bridge, T’Pol turned away from her scanner as Captain Archer looked up from his chair.

“Where?”

“A landing pad near the market where you encountered him. With all of the activity, I’m having trouble locking onto his biosignature, however.”

Malcolm Reed was the next person to speak. He had called up his own tactical readings of Frik’s ship as a standard precaution and he became alarmed at what he saw. Double-checking his readings, he confirmed his suspicions and logged the information into the database before he made his report to the Captain.

“Sir, his ship has a tricobalt explosive device aboard, and it’s armed.”

“Someone must not want him to talk about yesterday’s events,” Archer mused, rising to his feet. “Shuttlepod One, have it prepared. We’re going down there before Dahlen Frik can’t answer my questions.”


* * * *


The district of the marketplace was hardly the most lavish. The buildings were run-down, shabby, and dirty. The streets were littered with the homeless, covered in blankets and they were obviously not the benefactors of the wealth generated by Kanar IV’s bustling commercial success. It was the perfect place for a Yridian information dealer to hide himself, especially when he was concerned with such dangerous company as the Suliban. Unaware of the incoming landing party from Enterprise, Frik was about to leave his room. It was on the fifth floor of a small tower, a balcony that overlooked a raging river below. Collecting his effects, he smiled to himself and wondered what he would spend his latest paycheck on.

Suddenly, without warning, the metal entrance to his room started to produce sparks. In a panic, Frik dropped everything and started to search for his plasma pistol. He didn’t find it in time.

With a phase pistol in hand after having burned through the lock, Captain Archer burst into the room. Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed and two MACO soldiers followed in behind him. In complete shock, the Yridian froze on the spot, faced with the business end of a phase pistol and not being strong enough to try his luck.

“Aaaah! What do you want?!,” he managed to yelp.

“You delivered a Suliban agent aboard my ship!,” raged Archer. “He killed one of my crew and placed us at the mercy of his fleet! What, God-damn it?”

“I… don’t know… what you’re talking about!,” Frik protested.

“Give us the room.”

Behind their Captain, Trip and Malcolm exchanged a nervous glance. They knew that this would get messy but orders were orders. With nods to the MACOs behind them, they slowly backed away and closed the heavy metal door behind them. What Archer unfortunately failed to realize was that Frik had soundproofed the chamber. It was standard operating procedure for a business where an overhead comment could tip off the opposition.

Storming over and grabbing the Yridian’s collar, Archer pressed his phase pistol into the thick gray skin on his temple. “You’re going to tell me who hired you to work for the Suliban and you’re going to tell me where their Helix is!”

“I don’t know anything about any Helixes!”

“The hell you don’t!”

Neither man expected what happened next.

Leaping in from the balcony after having made a dangerous climb up the exterior wall was what Archer could only describe as a Human Lion. large, pointed fangs, yellow fur covering its muscular frame, a long tail, claws that were the size of a child’s fingers, and blazing orange eyes that made this person a fearsome sight. It roared and dashed towards the pair of them.

Not being able to react quickly enough, Archer lost his phase pistol as the towering alien lion lashed out. Falling with a cry of pain, the Captain watched as it kicked Frik aside before turning to grin at him.

“You should have used your ship, Frik!,” the lion growled in a guttural voice. “Your death would have been less painful!”


* * * *


CHAPTER NINE
To Save the Enemy


This Human lion was here to kill Dahlen Frik!

Captain Archer couldn’t allow that. Not before he had gotten the location of the Suliban Helix from him. Leaping up from the floor, he pushed the lion away from the terrified Yridian. The lion responded with a growl and an attack, lashing out with his claws extended. Archer’s right arm, the uniform torn apart, started to bleed. If it weren’t for the soundproofed room, Trip and Malcolm who were standing outside, would have heard everything and came bursting in with their phase pistols. Annoyingly, they were unaware of the fight.

With a renewed determination while ignoring the pain in his arm, Archer delivered two strong punches to the lion’s head before being knocked to the floor. Shaking off the force of the impact, the Captain then scissored his legs and tripped the massive assassin. The response was a powerful kick to his chest which sent him flying out of the room and onto the small balcony.

The balcony that overlooked the raging river below.

In all of his years of experience with fighting dangerous threats, Archer knew that somebody was going to fall.

It was just a question of who would win the fight.

Meanwhile, Dahlen Frik recovered from his sense of panic. As the lion temporarily ignored the Yridian and stalked Archer out onto the balcony, he turned and yanked open the door, knowing that he would rather take his chances with the Starfleet crew than with the giant lion who was determined to murder him. Bursting in, Trip and Malcolm watched with wide eyes as the lion picked their Captain up and dangled him over the deadly drop towards the river.

Both of them raised their phase pistols, as did the MACO soldiers behind him before they slowed and looked at one another.

“No clear shot?,” Trip asked.

“No,” whispered Malcolm, shaking his head. “Come on! It’s only a cat!”

Archer was yelling in pain as he found himself being forced over the ledge and towards the painful death that awaited him. Suddenly, the clawed hand around his throat started to relax. Opening his eyes and staring up, he saw the most welcome sight that he could ever wish to see. Lieutenant Reed had a phase pistol aimed at the lion’s head while Commander Tucker recovered from what had obviously been a very uncomfortable rugby tackle. Sliding to his feet, he gave nods of appreciation to his officers.

“You just can’t have a normal conversation with people anymore, can you?,” Trip sighed, rubbing his arm.

“Are you questioning my people skills, Commander?,” Jonathan joked before he grabbed the captive Human lion by its fur and yanked it towards him. “Who sent you? Was it the Suliban? Why are you here to kill Frik?”

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into!,” growled the defiant assassin.

Letting the lion go, Archer turned around to retrieve his communicator and speak with Enterprise. There were no answers to be gained from him as he was clearly highly trained. As he did so, the lion quickly slapped something on one of his harness straps. It was too quick for anybody to react, and too quick for even Malcolm to fire his phase pistol. Suddenly, the lion was dematerializing. It had a transporter and it had just used it.

“Son of a bitch!,” Trip blurted out.

Turning away with anger, Archer faced the room from where he had just come. Dahlen Frik stood sheepishly between the two MACO soldiers.

Well, at least, he had gotten what he had come for.


* * * *

 

Classic 007 cold open and interesting to meet the romulan behind the shadow. The assassin is an interesting character as well. Also enjoying the banter - the voicing for Malcolm stands out. STE was, in my opinion, one of the most well-conceived and well-written of the various series, especially with the loss of innocence portrayed so well by Scott Bacula. It was the only Star Trek series to really hit the ground running - shame that it was cancelled and the ending rushed. Nice to see a good fanfic treatment of it.

Thanks!! rbs

 

CHAPTER TEN
Turncoat

Relvek awoke to a blinding white light.

Squinting, the Romulan from the 29th Century blocked the light with his hand and regained his focus. His head hurt. There was a small burn mark on his black suit, probably from where the Suliban disruptor had shot him. Had he been shot?

Ah, yes, it all came flooding back to him. He had been aboard Enterprise when the Cabal grabbed him. It had been expected but he hoped that Jonathan Archer would have protected him more effectively. Looking around at the decor, he recognized the style. He was inside a Suliban Helix. Doing some quick mental calculations, he worked out how long the disruptor stunned him relative to the speed of Suliban vessels and the Genaar Nebula in the Kanar system.

He shouldn’t be more than five lightyears from Enterprise. That gave him hope. His claim for asylum had been met with suspicion, but Archer wouldn’t ignore it. He was too valuable to them since he had the answers that they needed.

Above all, however, Relvek had one simple goal.

Protect the timeline.

Suddenly the lock on the door to his chamber snapped open and allowed more light to pour in from the corridor outside. Standing, Relvek watched three Suliban march inside the room. He recognized their leader and immediately knew that his situation had just become ten times more difficult.

“Silik!,” he exclaimed.

“That’s right,” growled the Suliban leader. “Despite your best efforts, I remain alive!”

Of course! When Captain Archer and Daniels reset the timeline after the Na’Kuhl incursion and killed Vosk, all of the changes that were made were canceled out. Silik never died in Nazi-occupied New York City but he rathe remained in the 22nd Century, leading the Cabal, and thanks to the technology given to him by Relvek, he was able to scan the timelines and realize what had happened!

Damn!

“I order you to release me, Silik,” demanded the Romulan.

“I no longer take instructions from you. When you abandoned us, two years ago, you gave up that right.”

“Archer knows I’m here. He’ll be coming for me.”

Silik simply laughed, his rotting yellow teeth making Relvek recoil in disgust. He had never seen him in so much detail before. The low resolution of the temporal communicator took care of that.

“I’m tempted to execute you before John arrives,” the Suliban leader snarled, clearly enjoying the role reversal. “However, your knowledge of the future can be exploited. You can help us gain power and influence in the sector. You’re aware of the ever-expanding Coalition of Planets? Human uniting races throughout the Galaxy in peace? It’s enough to make you sick, isn’t it? You can help us resist their influence.”

“What makes you think that I’ll cooperate with you?,” snapped Relvek.

For all of his faults, Relvek wasn’t about to sacrifice the timeline to avoid some discomfort. His position back in the 29th Century, yes, had been to tweak history in favor of the Romulan Star Empire. Now, lacking his technological control and with the Temporal Cold War supposedly finished in the 22nd Century, there was little reason to alter events, and it could even be very dangerous. After the Xindi crisis, the Romulans of this century were beginning to advance into space and make themselves into a force to be reckoned with. He couldn’t risk destroying the Romulus of this century. All that he wanted was to escape persecution, to claim asylum aboard Enterprise, and to have Jonathan Archer find him someplace safe to hide.

“You’ll help us because you won’t know what you’re doing,” Silik grinned with menace. “We’ve been developing a new drug. You’ll answer any and all questions that are put to you before your brain rots in your skull.”

“After all that I’ve given to the Suliban,” Relvek protested. “After I elevated you to leadership… you’re willing to turn on me?”

“You of all people should know that I mean what I say.”

The meeting was over. The door slid back open and the two other Suliban soldiers left. Silik turned around, paused, and then left with them. The door locked, leaving him with no escape.

“Come on, Archer,” muttered the captive Romulan. “Where are you?”


* * * *


CHAPTER ELEVEN
On Course

Captain’s StarLog, March 20th, 2156;

It took some time to extract the information from our Yridian friend, Dahlen Frik. he demanded that we take him to a safe location he knows about in the neighboring Tomed Sector before he gave us the location of the Suliban Helix. It seems that saving his life from that assassin wasn’t enough to gain his trust. We’re on course for the Helix, which is hidden within the gas giant Kanar II. everything appears to stem from the Kanar system. I suppose that this might change Starfleet’s plans for an outpost…


There was a chime at the door.

“Computer, pause,” Archer ordered. Porthos jumped from his lap as he stood. “Enter!”

The door slid aside to reveal Lieutenant Jason Johnson. He looked terrible, having gotten very little sleep over the past twenty-four hours. Who could blame him? His boyfriend had been murdered by a Suliban agent over some future guy that he couldn’t give a damn about. His blonde hair was a mess, his uniform had seen better days, and his eyes were bloodshot. The Captain didn’t need to say anything as he gestured for the officer to enter.

“Captain, I understand that we’ve got coordinates for the Suliban Helix,” Jason began. It was the first piece of shipwide gossip that he had managed to secure on his own. Gavin usually told him such things. No, he told himself. Hold it together. If you break down, he’ll never endorse your request.

“You understand correctly.”

“We’re planning a mission to retrieve the Romulan?”

“Something along those lines,” the Captain said carefully, pausing. “You want to come with us, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Archer sighed, turning away from Johnson and taking a few steps towards the window in his quarters. The stars were speeding by faster than ever. They would be at Kanar II in a little under five hours. Could he really trust Jason under these circumstances? The old Archer, the pre-Xindi crisis Archer, would have flatly denied the request. Inside himself, the Captain knew this, but over the past few years, he had evolved as a leader of the crew. He had gotten to know them. Gavin Stenning’s death had hit the crew hard, and in turn, it had hit Archer hard. He turned back towards Lieutenant Johnson.

“You sleep for four hours, shower and eat. Then report to Mister Reed when we drop out of warp, understood?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t thank me, Lieutenant. I’m probably not doing you any favors here.”

“Captain?”

“You feel pain. Physical pain. Yes, it hurts, and there’s nothing that I can do. Phlox can’t take this kind of pain away with a hypospray, either. You think that by getting revenge on the Suliban for Gavin’s death, you’ll end the pain. Trust me, Jason. I’m your Captain and your friend. Shooting a bunch of Suliban won’t work. You’ll shoot one and it won’t work. So you’ll shoot another and another. You could clear that entire Helix of Suliban and you’ll feel even worse, not better. I’m granting your request, but consider this before you report to Malcolm.”

There was a moment of silence. Watching with his big round eyes, even Porthos could feel the emotion in the room.

“With all due respect, sir,” Jason replied after a moment,” I don’t need to consider it. I’ll see you in five hours.”

Archer nodded. He understood but he had to try. What kind of a Captain would he be if he didn’t?

Lieutenant Johnson left the Captain’s quarters. Sitting down on his bed, rubbing his forehead, Archer felt Porthos jump up beside him. It was a small comfort but one that he could use right now. With a heavy conscience and a deep breath, he raised his head once more.

“Computer, resume log.”


* * * *


CHAPTER TWELVE
Drugged-Up Danger

Silik had just been… Was it Silik? He couldn’t tell.

The drugs that they were using on him were strong. They had been perfecting them ever since they used them on a certain Vulcan Science Officer. Oh, yes, the Suliban were suitably nasty and devoid of morality. It was why Relvek had chosen them to be his agents in the 22nd Century. They were starting to get to him. His head spinning, unable to focus, the Romulan from the future felt the restraints go back on his wrists.

That was the third… no, fifth… fifth injection this hour… or was it minute… or day?

Where was he again?

Ah, yes, the Suliban…

Yellow teeth, green skin…

No, hold on…

Romulan…

Temporal Cold War…

Jonathan Archer…

Jonathan... Enterprise…

Asylum, fear of… something…

It seemed like only a few seconds before the door to his cell opened again. In actuality, it had only been thirty minutes. Silik entered, flanked by his men and a scientist. The Suliban had no doctors, just scientists who experimented and toyed with their patients. Completely in every respect, they were the alien version of Nazi medical war criminals from Earth’s history.

“Ready to talk?,” hissed Silik.

Relvek suddenly became overcome with a sense of panic. He had to escape! He had to get out!

His foggy mind cleared enough for him to take action.

The scientist leaned over him and uncuffed his right hand. Faster than anybody expected, Relvek lashed out and knocked him over the head before stealing his holstered disruptor and shooting madly at the Suliban in the room.


* * * *


Kanar II. It was a beautiful gas giant.

Staring at the image on the viewscreen, Captain Archer rose from his Captain’s chair and moved towards the science station. Busy with scanning, T’Pol had located a series of converging warp trails matching the energy signature of the attacking Suliban fleet from the previous day’s ambush. Just as they did almost six years ago, the Bridge crew of the NX-01 watched as the viewscreen displayed the path into the gas giant. The path to the Helix.

“Polarize the hull plating and bring the weapons online!,” Archer ordered, returning to the center of the Bridge. “Tactical alert!”

The lights dimmed accordingly.

“Travis lay in a course and engage at half impulse. T’Pol, keep scanning for Romulan biosigns. I want to -- “

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Captain,” the Vulcan Science Officer interjected. “I don’t think that we need to go looking for Relvek.”

Archer paused, assuming incorrectly that T’Pol was objecting to his course of action. He was just about to protest and repeat his order before the image on the viewscreen caught his eye. It was something coming up from the gas giant, something small and moving very fast. The sensors had already determined all of the information required about the pilot and when Archer finally saw that it was a Suliban cell ship, he glared at his Science Officer.

“One biosign,” T’Pol stated calmly. “Romulan.”

“He must have escaped!,” Reed exclaimed, surprised and impressed.

“Hoshi, hail him!”

Working quickly with her station, Ensign Sato drew a blank. “He’s not responding, sir. I’ve tried all of the frequencies. He can hear us.”

“Grappler!,” demanded Archer, moving across the Bridge to stand next to Malcolm. “Launch Bay Four, put him alongside his time pod! Travis, as soon as the Launch Bay is sealed, get us out of here, Warp Three!”

The whole maneuver was executed with fluid grace. Turning Enterprise to starboard, Ensign Mayweather gave Lieutenant Reed a perfect shot with the Grappler. Both magnetic seals struck the cell ship and reeled it in, sealing the Launch Bay doors mere seconds after they had been opened. With a flash of blue energy, the starship blasted away from Kanar II, three times faster than the speed of light, leaving the Suliban Helix far behind. They had struck lucky as Silik hadn’t regained consciousness yet.

When he would, they would have one hell of a chase.


* * * *

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Small Comforts


In Sickbay, Phlox looked grim as he completed his scan and turned towards Captain Archer.

Relvek was strapped to the biobed. He had put up quite a struggle in the Launch Bay, knocking down several MACO soldiers out with his bare hands before being sedated by the Denobulan doctor. It seemed that a Romulan, when angered and in a blind panic, could be as wild and unpredictable as a Klingon in here… or, at least, that’s what Commander Tucker had said. Now, safely aboard and sleeping peacefully, he could be examined properly. What Phlox found was alarming to say the least.

“His body had been flooded with a powerful neurotoxin. There’s nothing that I have that will counter its effects. Thankfully, it seems to have only brief cohesion. From what I can tell, they’ve been pumping him full of this substance for hours.”

“You’re saying that he’ll naturally recover?”

“It would appear so, yes.”

“Good. He can recover in the Brig, then.”

Turning towards the MACO on guard duty, Archer nodded toward Relvek’s lifeless body. Phlox moved forward between the soldiers and his patient, trying to intervene.

“Captain, I understand that your feelings on this matter are strong, but I have to protest.”

Archer wasn’t having any of it. This entire situation, the loss of Relvek to the Suliban in the first place, had started in Sickbay. No more chances, no more playing nicely. Under the circumstances, Archer was making up the rules as he went along.

“Noted, Doctor. Now step aside.”

“Captain!,” exclaimed the Denobulan.

“Phlox, I said the Brig! It’s doubtless that we’re going to have a fleet of Suliban after us pretty soon and I won’t have him taken again!”

Archer, as he always did, won out. The MACOs moved towards Relvek and Phlox bowed his head in defeat.


* * * *


Jason Johnson almost ignored the door chime. The second time he responded. “Yeah?”

As the door slid aside, the Lieutenant saw the face of his close friend Travis Mayweather and instantly regretted making him wait. Jason was of two minds right now. One was a bloody-minded aggressive personality, spoiling for a fight with any excuse to vent his anger and frustration. Gavin Stenning had been murdered right there beside him, and as yet, he hadn’t the chance to get even. The Suliban Helix was far behind them, not ahead. So there was no chance for revenge. His second mind was his regular mind, the friendly, personable, gracious mind that realized people were being nice and welcomed it. Appreciating the support of his friends, it was the second Jason that smiled at Travis.

“Hey, sorry… What’s up?”

“End of a shift,” revealed Ensign Mayweather, sitting beside Jason on his bed. “We’re hightailing it through the Tomed Sector at the moment. Pretty basic flying. I thought I would come down and see how you’re doing.”

“Fine, thanks… Just fine.”

“When I heard that you were all set to go aboard the Helix, I asked the Captain about you.”

There was a moment of silence filled with trepidation. Travis could have just made a huge mistake. If the first mind of Jason Johnson was listening, it would have exploded with rage, furious at the whispers behind his back about how fit he was for duty. Thankfully for the helmsman, the second, calmer Jason was to the fore.

“I was ready to go,” Lieutenant Johnson began, visibly shaking. “I was going to shoot every God-damned Suliban over there, blast them all into vapor… and then I was going to shoot that Romulan too.”

“The one that you were supposed to rescue?,” Travis reminded his friend.

“Yeah… That smug bastard… He started all of this! He got us involved in this temporal conflict thing and introduced us to those genetic freaks… The freaks that killed Gavin, damn it!”

Travis slowly placed his arm around Jason’s shoulder. In any other century before now, it would have been viewed much differently, but in the enlightened 22nd Century, it was the universal symbol of compassion and support, regardless of sexual orientation. Jason got the message, appreciating it without a second thought to possible overtures of whatever nonsense that younger, more immature minds might have concluded.

“You know what?,” Travis said, comforting him. “I’ve known you and Gavin since our Academy days. And if there’s anything that I know for certain, it’s that Gavin wouldn’t want this to consume you. He died on duty, serving the ship, alongside his friends. Defending everything that he held close to him.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, buddy,” Jason acknowledged, returning the half-hug with a fraction more enthusiastic than he thought was possible.

“Come on,” Ensign Mayweather decided, getting to his feet. “Let’s go eat and we can--”

Suddenly, all the lights dimmed.

Enterprise started to accelerate, the deck plating shuddering.

A shipwide vocal alert sounds. It was Malcolm Reed.

“Tactical alert! All hands to stations!”


* * * *


CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Crashing the Party

Travis Mayweather arrived on the Bridge just as Jonathan Archer was bursting out of his Ready Room.

The viewscreen told the story. A huge swarm of Suliban cell ships, at least, thirty of them, were rapidly approaching at high warp. T’Pol, the ranking officer on the Bridge, had ordered the sudden acceleration and the tactical alert. Malcolm Reed was busy with figuring out how many of the blasted things he could take out before the hull plating became overwhelmed. He was also keeping an eye on his sensors. As Travis took over the helm and Archer took to his Captain’s chair, he reported the numbers that he was watching in a grave tone.

“They’ll be within weapons range in thirty seconds!”

“Current speed?,” asked Archer.

“Warp Five, sir!,” shouted an alarmed Travis.

“Archer to Engineering! Trip, I need more power!”

“No can do, Captain!,” blared the intercom system, the background noise giving away the situation. “One of the antimatter injectors just burnt out! We’re trying to replace it!”

“Get on it!,” snapped the Captain, punching the intercom button.

The conversation had used up the thirty seconds. The lead Suliban vessel crept up ahead enough to get a lock and suddenly, Enterprise shook violently as the disruptor beam tore into the starboard nacelle. There was another shot, another shake, and then the whining noise of the warp reactor started to lower. The stars on the viewscreen stopped streaking and Travis seized the joystick controls with frustration. The NX-01 blasted out of warp and dropped to impulse, closely followed by the Suliban fleet, surrounding the Starfleet vessel like angry bees.

They didn’t fire. They didn’t need to, really. On the Bridge, Hoshi Sato got a signal. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”

Wordlessly with a grimace, Archer nodded.

The viewscreen flickered to an image that nobody ever thought that they would see again. The Suliban that they all dreaded the most.

“Silik?,” exclaimed the Captain. “But you’re -- “

“Why not ask your new Romulan friend, John?,” grinned the Suliban with malice. “Speaking of which, hand him over.”

“It’s not in your nature to be independent from him, is it?”

“Actually, without instructions, you’ll find me to be much more dangerous. No more helping you when it suited him. This is it, John. Hand him over or I’ll destroy you.”

Suddenly a sensor alarm went off. Hoshi got the signal from her Captain to cut the conversation and the viewscreen returned to the view of space. Turning to one side, Archer joined T’Pol at the science station and saw the screen that she had been reading from. He nodded with pleasure and even allowed himself a small smile. The message had gotten through. The extra security he had asked for, the insurance policy. Knowing that the Suliban would eventually come after the Enterprise, there had been only one call to make. The timing couldn’t be any better and Archer returned to the little chat with Silik.

“That’s very rude of you, John,” the Suliban growled.

“I’m afraid I’m about to offend you again, Silik. You might want to check your sensors because a friend of mine is crashing this party!”

At that moment, as if it was on cue, there was a distant flash in space. Streaking out of warp and coming to rest alongside the surrounded NX-class starship was the most welcome sight that Archer had ever seen.

Columbia, NX-02.

Here to save the day.


* * * *


CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Battle of Tomed

Aboard Columbia, Captain Erica Hernandez folded her arms and nodded to her Communications Officer to open a channel to Enterprise. However, he became frustrated with his controls and gave his Captain a look of desperation.

“They must be jamming us!,” Erica concluded. “Okay, target the closest Suliban and open fire!”

Peeling away and exposing her ventral phase cannons, Columbia blasted several of the cell ships, destroying one and damaging another. As if a mirror image, Enterprise immediately did the same, defending the rights of the renegade Relvek against the recapture threatened by Silik. Energy beams crisscrossed the stars as the two largest starships fought against the overwhelming tide of small Suliban vessels. Locking on with glee, Malcolm Reed fired a shot which sent a cell ship spinning out-of-control through space, only to see it bounce off of the hull of the NX-02 and leave a large scorch mark on the hull of the sister ship. He apologetically glanced at Captain Archer.

“When this is over, you’re in an EV suit polishing that, Malcolm,” he dryly responded.

“Aye, sir. Hull plating is down to fifty percent, adjusting to compensate.”

“Travis, evasive pattern Alpha-Nine. Keep us from getting caught in the swarm!”

“Got it!,” the Ensign nodded. “Hold on!”

By cutting the impulse engines at just the right moment, before suddenly cranking them up to full power, Travis managed to make Enterprise perform an interstellar powerslide. It was dangerous and risky, but being the best pilot in Starfleet had advantages. Suddenly, in response to the fancy flying, three Suliban appeared and aimed their weapons for the Bridge. The hull plating held, but several consoles exploded in a shower of sparks. That was a nasty strike.

The battle raged.


* * * *


Deep within Enterprise, Lieutenant Jason Johnson was heading for his station in Deflector Control.

He turned a corner and saw something that he didn’t expect. There, with two MACO soldiers and Doctor Phlox helping him, was Relvek. The Romulan from the 29th century that had started all of this, that had ordered the Suliban around, that Jason was supposed to rescue from the Helix… The bastard that he was going to murder. It made Jason freeze on the spot. His eyes locked onto the pointed ears, blazing with anger and rage. This was the closest that he was ever going to get to the man responsible for killing Ensign Gavin Stenning.

They were heading for the Brig. Captain Archer had obviously lost his temper with the Romulan. But this wasn’t right because Relvek looked unhealthy… drugged. Had he been drugged?

At least, that would mean that he wouldn’t put up a fight. Not with his hands around his neck… Jason felt the anger rise up again.

His mind calculated a plan.

He would get his revenge. He would kill Relvek.


* * * *


CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Unpredictable


Despite their orders, the two MACO guards had to show deference to a Starfleet rank.

It was therefore relatively easy for Lieutenant Jason Johnson to compose himself, march straight up to the two soldiers and keep a straight face while delivering his fraudulent orders. He knew that he would probably be court-martialed for this and chucked out of Starfleet.

He didn’t care.

The Romulan within the cell beyond was responsible for the death of the man he loved and nothing was going to stop him from getting his revenge. Not some rank, not some ship, and not some mission. With a phase pistol on his hip, he fixed eyes with the MACO in charge of Brig security.

“You’ve been reassigned to Docking Port Two,” he snapped at her. “The Suliban are attempting to board Enterprise. You’ve got to get down there!”

“What about the prisoner?,” asked the female MACO on duty.

“I’m taking him under Captain Archer’s orders. The first place that they’re going to look is the Bridge. I’ve got to move him!”

There was a pause.

“Come on, move!,” repeated Jason, mostly for effect.

The deck plating suddenly shook under the force of another disruptor strike. The battle outside was going as expected. Keeping the cell ships at bay was difficult for Enterprise, but with help from Columbia, the tide was being kept at the same point. Seven Suliban cell ships had been destroyed, leaving twenty-three darting around the larger NX-class vessels. Columbia had lost a warp nacelle to a particularly nasty blast but under impulse, the ship was still holding her own against the tiny attacking Suliban. Another shuddering of the deck plating and the MACOs got the message.

Entering the Brig and opening the chamber containing Relvek, Jason Johnson unleashed his phase pistol and aimed slowly at the Romulan’s frightened face. He was still heavily under the influence of the drugs administered to him aboard the Helix, the panic burning in his eyes. He saw the phase pistol and started screaming.

“No! No, please! Asylum… future… Temporal Cold war… No! No!”

“Shut up, you son of a bitch!,” Jason spat out, his eyes were burning too but with rage and hatred, not panic. “I’m going to make you pay for killing Gavin!”

“No more drugs… Asylum… Suliban… Danger of war… Hunted… No more, no!”

“You’re pathetic and now you’re dead too!”

“NO!”

At that exact moment, just as Jason was prepared to pull the trigger, Enterprise was hit hard. The starship lurched under the force of the blast, and in his madness, Relvek launched himself at Jason and knocked the phase pistol clean out of his hands. Wildly, with his head spinning, he reached into his boot as Lieutenant Johnson struggled to regain his balance. The Romulan produced a knife, hidden on his person for just such an occasion, and in one blind swing, managed to thrust the blade deep into Jason’s stomach.

A sickening sound accompanied the stab. Freezing in sudden realization, the blonde Deflector Control officer slowly looked down at the knife in his stomach. Then, even slower, his gaze returned to Relvek.

Completely unaware of what he had just done, the Romulan let his drugged instincts rule his actions. He climbed over the Lieutenant and darted out of the Brig in a confused daze, heading for… Well, he didn’t know where, exactly. Was his time pod still aboard? Maybe he could escape this madness… Yes, he would fly away! Collecting Jason’s phase pistol from the deck, he disappeared into the corridors beyond.

Inside the Brig, suffering from shock and immeasurable pain, both physical and mental, Lieutenant Jason Johnson crumpled to a heap and fought back the tears.

On the Bridge, fighting being thrown around by the fury of battle, Malcolm Reed checked his screen with worry. What he reported to Jonathan Archer made them all nearly forget that they were in the middle of a firefight with twenty-three… now twenty-two… Suliban cell ships.

“Captain!,” he blurted out. “Somebody’s unlocked the Brig!”


* * * *

 

Nice soliloquy on revenge with Archer and nice twist at the end with the knife..

Thanks!! rbs

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Escape of the Future


Archer had decided to leave the Bridge, despite protocol.

As he walked into the open Brig, noting the lack of MACO guards, he wasn’t expecting what he found. He had come down looking for answers and all that he discovered was a tragedy. There, gasping his final gasps of life was Lieutenant Jason Johnson, a knife sticking out of his stomach… and no sign of Relvek. Johnson had an empty phase pistol holster and there was no discarded pistol, meaning that the renegade Romulan from the 29th Century was armed and dangerous aboard Enterprise. In the middle of a battle to save his life, for God’s sake!

Crouching beside his fallen officer, Archer tried to sit Jason up, but there was too much blood. It was too late, too late to even ask what happened. That explanation would come in time. For now, the Captain’s only duty was, well… to be the Captain.

“Jason?,” he found himself asking nonetheless.

“I’m… sorry, Captain,” the Lieutenant struggled to mumble. “He’s.. gone… the Romulan… Gavin… gone… I’m going to go see him now… Going to join him… Gavin…”

And that was it. Lieutenant Jason Johnson died in the arms of Captain Jonathan Archer.

Screwing his eyes shut with fury, Archer found himself slamming his fist into the bulkhead. Turning, he rested the corpse back to the deck plating and stormed out to the intercom panel outside. Before hitting it, he turned to one of the MACO soldiers who had come on the orders of Malcolm Reed to meet him.

“Get Phlox down here.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Without any further hesitation, Archer punched the intercom panel. “Archer to the Bridge. T’Pol, internal bioscan. Locate Relvek.”

“One moment… Confirmed, sir. He’s outside Launch Bay Two, trying to access his time pod. I’m locking him out… It’s too late, Captain. He’s inside.”

Sneaky son of a bitch, trying to cut and run!

Quick as a flash, Archer took off running through the corridors of his ship that he thankfully knew so well. It didn’t take him long to reach Launch Bay Two to find the door forced open. Inside was the time pod, the same design of pod that he had in here in 2152, the same design of pod that had thrown out temporal radiation so badly that it had made him skip like a broken record over the same minute of his life. He pushed those memories aside. He needed to focus to stop Relvek from launching. At the very least, because if he did launch his time pod, Archer would be sucked out into space.

Suddenly, from his right came an attack. It knocked the phase pistol from his hand, very much like the same attack that had been done to Jason back in the Brig.

Spinning around, the Captain saw Relvek, still completely overtaken by the effects of the drugs that the Suliban had administered to him, in a mad rage. More attacks came his way but they were wild and unpredictable. Some were easy to block, and others were totally unexpected. Archer yelled as the Romulan punched him clean on the jaw, sending him reeling.

"Relvek, stop!,” he tried to reason with him. “We’re protecting you! You’ve got to stop!”

“No trust!,” was the Romulan’s deranged reply. Asylum, broken! Madness… Tomed Incident… Silik! No trust!”

More blows were exchanged. Archer landed some solid hits but the drugs obviously had some kind of numbing effect. Regardless of the green blood trickling down his chin and from his nose, Relvek kept coming, kept swinging punches, and throwing kicks, left, right, and center. One caught the Captain off-guard and he slid along the smooth deck plating from the force. When he shook his head clear of the foggy haze of defeat, he failed to see the Romulan in the Launch Bay at all. He had disappeared.

Completely disappeared.

Then the time pod started to hum, and whirl to life.

Archer braced for the worst, for the decompression that he hoped wouldn’t arrive.


* * * *


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The End of the Temporal Cold War

Relvek wasn’t leaving via any conventional means. Jonathan Archer was safe… for now.

The trick of the time pod, the puzzle that had Trip and Malcolm scratching their heads when they discovered that it was bigger on the inside and that it was equipped with a working interphasic cloaking device. As the mad Romulan cloaked the vessel, it passed effortlessly through the bulkhead of the Enterprise and floated out into space, right into the center of the raging dogfight between Starfleet and the Cabal. It was a miracle that, in his state, he didn’t overload the reactor. Furiously punching at his display screen, Relvek went into a spin.

Archer slowly opened his eyes, realizing that he hadn’t been sucked out into space as he had expected. But the time pod was gone and that meant that Relvek had disappeared. Had he gone to another time period? Was he outside? There was only one way to find out. Punching an intercom panel that was nearby, he called T’Pol.

“Archer to the Bridge! Relvek escaped aboard the time capsule! Can you scan for it?”

“Nothing on sensors, Captain. Although I am reading intermittent tachyons, thirty degrees to starboard.”

“His vessel produces tachyons!,” Archer quickly pierced together. “Surround those readings!. Don’t let the Suliban get close! I’m on my way to the Bridge. Keep us together!”

“Understood.”


* * * *


The problem wasn’t the Suliban, however. Despite Silik seeing the tachyon readings and altering the heading of his cell ship to investigate, the tachyons were leaking for a reason. The time capsule was malfunctioning, badly. The interphasic cloak was failing because the energy required to operate it was too much to handle while Relvek, in his current state of mind, desperately attempted to open a temporal vortex and escape…

To where?

He didn’t know.

Sparks flew from his consoles, making the crazed Romulan scream and yell inside his cramped cockpit.

Enterprise swept low as Silik snarled at his controls. The Starfleet ship was keeping him from the tachyons and he knew that Relvek was there, somewhere, in his cloaked vessel, trying to escape. He had to stop him. Targeting the NX-01, he opened fire with both particle disruptors.

That did it. He had an opening, and the Suliban leader took it, rising over the Starfleet craft.

He was right on top of the tachyon signature. His yellow teeth flashed with menace.

Suddenly, without warning, a horrible groaning sound preceded the most shocking and terrible experience that Silik had ever felt. His left arm became caught in something… something new… and something unexpected. He screamed in agony, his muscle becoming torn apart by… What was this?


* * * *


On the Bridge of the Enterprise, Jonathan Archer arrived just in time to see the spectacle.

The time capsule’s interphasing cloak failed, fusing with Silik’s cell ship and sending both ships, now joined together, careening away from the battle and into deep space. Silik had become part of the bulkhead of the 29th Century vessel, just as Relvek had become fused into the cell ship’s ventral plating. The agonizing terror lasted only a few seconds before the stress and strain of the interphasic failure caused a reactor breach aboard the time pod.

“I’m reading a buildup of energy!,” Malcolm Reed reported. “They’re going to explode!”

“All hands,” shouted Archer,” brace for impact!”

The explosion was gigantic. A warp core breach coupled with a temporal reactor detonation created a vast blossom of flame, energy, and flying debris. A shockwave blasted forth, knocking Enterprise, Columbia, and the remains of the Suliban fleet completely off-course.

Together, Relvek and Silik died in the accident.


* * * *


CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lost with All Hands


The Suliban cell ship fleet, or, at least, what remained of it, immediately broke away from the battle and jumped to warp. With Silik dead in the explosion, they had no reason to stay. Relvek was gone too, so they had no real determination to destroy Enterprise or Columbia, not now that they were leaderless and lost. They left just in time too.

A disaster was brewing.

T’Pol monitored the destruction of the fused time pod/cell ship with concern through her scanner. The flame and debris cleared but the center of the point in space where the detonation occurred continued to glow. Archer saw it too on the viewscreen and turned to his Science Officer for clarification. The most worrying factor wasn’t to identify whatever this… thing was. No, the worry for Archer and Enterprise was that the NX-02 was very close to it. Close, with one warp nacelle destroyed and unable to create a stable warp field. Immediately, following a few seconds of silence, the Captain was standing beside the Vulcan woman at her station.

“What the hell is that thing?,” he demanded.

“Unknown, Captain,” T’Pol answered honestly. “Sensors show that antimatter residue from the cell ship is reacting with a high number of tachyons and other energy signatures.”

“Tachyons?”

“Yes. it is possible, given what we know, that the explosion had opened a temporal rift of some description.”

Snapping his head towards the viewscreen again, the image was getting worse for Archer. The rift was expanding rapidly and Columbia wasn’t making any headway to put distance between themselves and the danger. Returning to his command chair but choosing not to sit, Archer nodded to Hoshi Sato, who got the message. Now that the Suliban were gone, the jamming signal was lifted.

“Archer to Captain Hernandez. Erica, what’s your situation?”

“We’ve lost our warp field, John!,” came the reply from the NX-02, audio only. The panic was clear in Captain Hernandez’s voice. “Impulse isn’t just enough under these circumstances. Whatever this thing is, we’re being pulled in like a paperclip to a magnet!”

“Stand by!,” cried out Archer, searching in desperation for an answer. “Malcolm, the Grappler!”

“If impulse engines aren’t effective against the pull of that rift, then there’s no hope that the Grappler would last. It doesn’t take the strain at warp,” Reed reported gravely. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Did you get that, Erica?,” Archer called out.

“I got it, John. I’m abandoning ship. Get yourselves clear before you’re pulled in too!”

There was a deathly silence on the Bridge of the NX-01. Everybody realized what was about to happen. The escape pods wouldn’t last long enough against the draw of the temporal rift, and there was no telling where or when Columbia would emerge on the other side… If there was another side. She was going in and she was going down. The most painful thing for Captain Archer and his crew was that they could hear Erica Hernandez. She was a Captain who knew that there was no escape and no exit strategy. All they could do was exchange one final address before the communications system broke down. On the viewscreen, Columbia pitched towards the swirling mass of energy left behind by the destruction of the time pod. Tachyons and antimatter combined… It was a nasty mix.

“Thanks for coming to our rescue earlier,” Archer slowly stated, his face crumpled in anguish.

“It’s always a pleasure to save your sorry backside, John,” Erica’s reply was distorted but audible.

“It won’t be the same out here without you --”

“Please re… t, John? Ente… ise, ca… ear me…? Ple… ome in….?”

With a grimace of helplessness, Jonathan Archer turned to Hoshi. A tear ran down her cheek, unable to avoid the horror of the moment.

“Shut that damn thing off,” growled the Captain.

Together, in silence, the Bridge crew of the Enterprise, NX-01 watched as their sister ship, the Columbia, NX-02 fell into the violent temporal rift and disappeared from this time and this location. Destroyed? Displaced? Nobody knew. All that they knew was that they were gone.


* * * *


CHAPTER TWENTY
The Return

Captain’s StarLog, March 21st, 2156;

With the loss of Captain Hernandez and the NX-02, I’ve ordered us back home to Earth. Confusion and anger seem to be consuming my crew. The events of the past few days have certainly answered some of our questions over the Temporal Cold War but with Relvek and Silik killed in the battle with the Suliban fleet, I get the impression that the most knowledgeable sources on this conflict had gone. Reporting this to Admiral Gardner is not going to be easy.


Finishing up his log report, Jonathan Archer screwed his eyes shut tight and placed his forehead in his hands. Columbia was lost. Erica Hernandez was lost… He always had a place reserved for Erica in his heart, a dream of what they could be once they had finished serving in Starfleet. Now that future looked bleak. If it was a temporal rift, the NX-02 might come back some day. It was a hope, however small and Archer knew that he would cling to it for a long time to come. His head hurt. Maybe he would head to Sickbay and get Phlox to give him something for it. The stress of being a Captain…

When he finally opened his eyes and raised his head, Archer got a shock.

He wasn’t in his quarters aboard Enterprise anymore.

He was somewhere completely different, somewhere bigger… at a more expensive desk. He had seen this place before, once before. When the time agent Daniels had tried to stop him from destroying the Xindi Superweapon… which meant…

“Daniels!,” Archer cried out, turning to his left.

“Hello, Jonathan. Long time, no see, if you’ll forgive the pun.”

“What the hell are I doing here? I thought I told you to leave me and my ship alone!”

Still not looking a day over the age when Archer had first met him, Daniels stepped forward, wearing the usual black time agent’s uniform. He took the seat next to Archer at the desk. It was the center of a large auditorium for a ceremony that was about to happen or a ceremony that had just happened. Starfleet banners covered the walls. Something about a Federation, Archer remembered, and something being signed.

“I apologize for the unwelcome house call, Captain,” Daniels explained. “However, the events that you’ve just witnessed weren’t supposed to happen. Relvek was never supposed to leap back to the 22nd Century. Silik wasn’t supposed to die with him, and that temporal rift in the Tomed Sector is causing many problems for my people.”

“So it is a temporal rift!,” Archer was pleased to hear. “What about Columbia? Are they safe?”

“Unfortunately, the nature of the rift is making it impossible to control or scan it. Like I said, many problems as you can imagine. I’m sorry, but I don't know what happened to Columbia. Jonathan, I need to ask you… What did Relvek tell you while he was aboard?”

“He gave us a few more damn answers than you ever did!,” snapped the Captain, angry at the blunt way in which Daniels had dashed his hopes about Erica. Taking a breath, he calmed himself down and unclenched his fist before continuing. “He explained who he was, and how he worked for the Romulan Star Empire in the 29th Century to alter the timelines in the Temporal Cold War. apparently, I put him out of a job by ending it, and he was requesting asylum.”

Daniels nodded, expecting the answer.

“Do you remember when we were trapped in the 31st Century together?,” he asked Archer.

“Yeah. I read a book about the Romulan Star Empire and you told me to put it back.”

“Yes, indeed, I did.”

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m about to find out why?”

Daniels said nothing. He simply reached for one of the PADDs on the desk in front of him, sliding it towards Captain Archer and offering it to him. Picking up the PADD, Archer tapped a few controls and read the subject heading at the top of the screen. There wasn’t much information on it.

Just a title.

THE EARTH/ROMULAN WAR: 2156.

His eyes went wide and he read it again, just to be sure of the date before looking back at Daniels. The angry confusion returned with strength.

“What is this?”

“A warning. History recorded the conflict, but never recorded why it started. Now we know.”

“I don’t suppose you would care to enlighten me?”

“You’re heading back to Earth to report on the loss of Columbia. Captain, as your friend, I’m telling you to deliver a different kind of report. Go back and tell them to get ready. It’s starting. Soon.”

Archer blinked. In the split-second that it took him to lower and raise his eyelids, he had been transported. He was back in his quarters aboard Enterprise and back at his desk. It took a few minutes to process the information that he had just been given. The PADD in his hands was gone, replaced by one about his StarLog. Sensing his master’s confusion, Porthos jumped up onto his lap to offer him comfort. With a slow, weary pat to his companion’s head, Archer put the PADD down and reopened his StarLog. He was going to re-record his latest entry.

And he was going to make it a warning.


* * * *


EPILOGUE

Calm Before the Storm


San Francisco, Earth


A beautiful sunny day, accompanied by a cool breeze.

The senior staff of the Enterprise, NX-01 were all present, wearing their dress uniforms which some of them found uncomfortable but knew that they were required. The service was conducted by Admiral Gardner. As Commander-Starfleet, he was responsible for the actions of his starships and their crews. Today, they were gathered to bury two crew members and pay respects to a crew that was neither alive or dead… but lost. At least, the headstones marking the graves of Ensign Gavin Stenning and Lieutenant Jason Johnson were accompanied by closure, a resolution to their lives. One had died in a futile and cowardly attack, and the other on a personal mission of revenge. Both would have done the same were the roles reversed.

While Jonathan Archer considered the actions of his two officers, he had a conflict of emotion. On the one hand, he was furious with Lieutenant Jason Johnson for attacking Relvek and letting him escape. That simple moment of unlocking the Brig soor had caused the death of Relvek and the opening of a temporal anomaly in the Tomed Sector. It was still there, raging, blocked off by warning buoys placed by Enterprise before leaving. On the other hand, however, Archer knew that if he was in Johnson’s boots, he would have done exactly the same thing. Could he be angry at him for acting like a Human? For having emotions? At that moment, he decided that he could not. Damn, the service had worked and he had found peace on this issue.

The Columbia, NX-02 was another matter. Here, Archer only felt anger. Daniels hadn’t even been able to give him answers on that one. Erica Hernandez was gone, his friend, companion… and one-time lover, and possible future lover and partner… gone. Ninety crew members disappeared without a trace.

Behind Archer, ‘Trip’ Tucker bowed his head in remembrance. When he had transferred there briefly in 2154, he had made friends. He knew them more than anybody else present, save for the families, of course. He wasn’t much for crying, for showing his emotions on display, but on this day here at the service, Trip felt a tear roll down his cheek. Beside him, noticing the tear, T’Pol took his hand and squeezed. Bless her Vulcan heart.

The service continued. May they all rest in peace.


* * * *


Romulus.


Peace was far from the agenda.

Storming into the Senate chamber and ignoring the dark, imposing architecture, Admiral Tomik marched up to the chair occupied by the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire with authority. As the head of the Romulan Fleet, he was the only one bold enough to approach without prior invitation or beckoning. The Praetor was an old man, anyway, often blinded by the facts that the military presented him. He was the perfect puppet from the Empire and the drive of senior military officers. The perfect puppet for Admiral Tomik.

“Praetor, we have the intelligence data,” reported the Admiral, scowling. “Reports confirm the presence of two Earth vessels.”

“Earth vessels?,” repeated the elderly Praetor. “Can we be certain?”

“The Bird of Prey that we sent to investigate the Romulan warp signature we detected in the Tomed Sector double-checked their sensor images with the database. It was Enterprise, the vessel responsible for the failure of our destabilization plans, two years ago. Do you remember, Praetor?”

“Yes… yes, I do. You said two Earth vessels?”

“The second ship, unknown to us but of similar design, was lost in a temporal explosion.”

“Caused by them?”

“We can only speculate, Praetor. One thing is certain. Earth is now one starship weaker.”

There was a deadly silence in the air. The Praetor, having risen from his throne to read the data, slumped back down and took a deep sigh. He wasn’t a stupid man. He knew what the Romulan Fleet commanders thought of him and what they expected of him too. The Romulan people would be looking to the Senate for a resolution to this data. To them, and to the imperialist factions within society, they would see Earth meddling in Romulan affairs, and see an Earth vessel causing the destruction of a Romulan ship. It didn’t matter that nobody knew where or what that Romulan ship was. A biosign was confirmed, the data said. Whoever he was, a Romulan had died.

“Assemble the Senators and call your advisors, Admiral Tomik,” whispered the Praetor.

“Yes, Praetor.”

“And bring all of the intelligence that we have on Earth.”

“Yes, Praetor.”

“Now.”


THE END.

 

And with that, the story comes to an end.

 

You seem to be able to come up with very accurate and error-free prose very quickly. I'm quite envious of that ability - a year on and I'm still weeding out the kinds of typos and grammar problems I spot instantly in other peoples' writing but glide right over in my own.

 

I have a lot of time on my hands.