Star Trek Hunter Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Continued from Episode 14: When Death Comes

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime

“Beware what you think. For that is the sum total of what you are.”

Inscription on the statue of Wesley Crusher on the grounds of Star Fleet Academy primary campus, San Francisco, California.



Author's Note: If you're watching Star Trek Picard, just remember, I did it first...


New to Star Trek Hunter? You can catch up with the series at Ad Astra via this link:

Star Trek Hunter at Ad Astra

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 1: Carrera Detached

15.1
Carrera Detached​

Belo Rys was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Normally, when there wasn’t a mystery to solve or a mission to prepare for, the tactical squad would spend their duty hours training, sparring or researching new techniques to be used by small tactical groups such as their own for everything from defense against boarding parties to criminal apprehension. But the Hunter’s veteran tactical squad was already very good at these things. They were studying for their new assignment as lifeguards on Ocean.

All four of them were already strong swimmers – even Jarrong, which was rare for a cardassian. Cardassians disliked immersion for many reasons, foremost of these being its detrimental effect on their skin. Salt water only made this worse. Even though she was a quarter bajoran, Jarrong had the skin of a cardassian, which made her as sensitive to water as any cardassian. Her half-bajoran cousins had similar problems, although their skin was not quite as sensitive as hers.

So they were researching methods for protecting themselves from the sea water of Ocean to help them do their new jobs. A combination of water-tight, form fitting body suits and protective salves seemed the best option. Jarrong had replicated and was modeling such a body suit and the effect on her cousins was far more humorous than she had hoped. But as long as they were laughing, she decided to amplify the effect by striking a number of ridiculous, mock heroic poses.

After all they had been through recently, they desperately needed this laughter. It was the first time Jarrong had seen Belo Cantys smile since she had lost Investigator Lynhart Shran, whose children Cantys was carrying.


Quite abruptly, the laughter stopped.


“Did you feel that?” asked Cantys.

“Are they kicking?” asked Garr

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Cantys said. “It’s just kind of, a little spooky all the sudden..”

“We have had more than enough spooky around here,” said Jarrong, “So whatever it is, tell it to go away.”

“She already did,” said Rys. “Four times now.”

“Twice,” Cantys corrected.

“Wait,” said Garr, “We blew up…”

“Three times,” said Cantys.

“Five,” Rys corrected.

“What are you talking about??” asked Jarrong.

“We have about twenty minutes,” said Garr.

“What do we do?” asked Cantys. “We’re not engineers…”

“We feast,” said Rys. “We’ve already been through this four times…”

“Two,” said Cantys.

“Right,” said Rys. “Everyone experiences it differently. Jarrong, on your second time through you barged into Engineering and Dr. Carrera had K’rok beam you into the brig.”

“Well, I guess I won’t bother then. That will change things,” said Jarrong.

“Nope,” said Rys. “I came to see you in the brig and you told me that I had told you about it but you did it anyway.” Rys turned to Cantys. “Listen… Investigator Shran kept some amazing whiskies, beers and meats in the foot locker in his pod. Let’s break them out and have a party. We did it last time - drank every drop, and I’m willing to bet it’s all still there, waiting for us…”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

As ordered, Dr. Sarekson Carrera reported to the captain’s office. This felt completely wrong – he was supposed to be in Engineering, preparing the warp engine for recursive mode. Not that he should be needed for that now, any of his engineers should be able to do it at this point. The moment he walked onto the bridge, he could tell everyone else was on edge too. Commander David Pepper was in the captain’s chair – where Irons was supposed to be. And everyone knew it.

On entering her office, Carrera was astonished, now that he was alone with her, just how much Justice Minerva Irons had aged in the past year and especially in the past few months. He had first met her three years before the U.S.S. Hunter had launched for its maiden voyage. Because the Hunter was going to be under her command, Carrera had transferred from Star Fleet Space Command to the Office of Judge Advocate General and donned the black uniform so that he could remain with the ship he had invented. Several of his engineering team had followed suit. When he had first met Irons, indeed up until only a few months ago, she had looked like an extremely well preserved middle aged woman - if an unbelievably gorgeous one. It was only in the past few months she had started to show her age. Her hair had been black – now much of her hair had gone gray. The fine lines in her face had become permanent. And she looked tired – she wasn’t trying to hide it.


“This is your first time through the loop, Sarekson,” Irons began. “I need you to listen to me and trust me that the answers to your questions will come. But we don’t have time for me to give those answers to you now.” She pushed a small wallet attached to a fine chain across the table. “I need you to stop by your quarters and change into civilian clothing. You are no longer authorized to wear the black uniform. On appropriate occasions, you may wear the Star Fleet Dress uniform. As of now, I am promoting you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander and placing you on extended detached detail. As long as you remain onboard the Hunter, you are still under my command and the Engineering Department will continue to answer to you. But Admiral Jamaal El Fadil, Star Fleet Chief of Staff, has transferred you from the Office of Judge Advocate General to Star Fleet Temporal Command..”

Despite the avalanche of questions in his mind, Dr. Carrera had managed to remain silent up to this point. “There is no such division…”

“There is now and it has precisely one officer assigned to it. Your job will be to create the vision, mission, and policy and procedure for this new division. Eventually, you will select personnel to staff the SFTC. No more questions,” Irons added as it was clear that Carrera was about to ask one. “The wallet in your hand contains your new Star Fleet ID and your rank insignia. Wear it around your neck at all times – never take it off. Ever. Keep it concealed and display it only when required. It also contains a data card. Each time we go through the loop, the first thing you must do is upload that card to Hunter. Twice over the next few loops, I will ask you why you are out of uniform. You are to respond ‘File 9, Code 8.’ That will lead me to the data you will have uploaded from that data card.”

Irons held up her hand, silencing another question. “This is an order, Lieutenant Commander: Put the wallet on…”

Carrera looped the fine chain over his head and tucked the wallet under his uniform as Irons continued.

“Change into civilian clothing – choose something rugged, comfortable and suited to a wide variety of environments. And arm yourself. Then go to Engineering and clear us to go to recursive warp.”

“But we imploded!” Carrera objected.

“Eight times so far,” Irons responded wearily. “This paradox must play out until you solve it. There is nothing wrong with your engines and no anomalies in local spacetime or subspace. And I have it on good authority that if we break the cycle of implosions by not engaging the zip drive at the correct time, each cycle, that will make the damage we are doing permanent, at the cost of not only our own lives, but millions of others within a hundred light years of our current position.”

“Who told you that?” Carrera asked.

“You did. Dismissed Lieutenant Commander.”

15.1 (of 10)​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Crew of the U.S.S. Hunter: (Ship's Interactive Holographic Avatar - Hunter).

At-Large Appellate Justice, Captain Minerva Irons (159).
Chief Executive Officer - Commander David Pepper (46).
Chief Operations Officer - Lieutenant Commander Mlady (unknown).
.
Medical Director - Commander Tali Shae (59).

Assistant Medical Director - Lieutenant Jazz Sam Sinder (38).
Epidemiologist - Lieutenant Napoleon Boles (34).

Ensign Chrissiana Trei (35).

Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Sif (32).
Emergency Medical Hologram - Dr. Raj.
Tactical Medical Hologram - Dr. Kim.​

.
Director of Flight Operations - Lieutenant Commander Kenneth Dolphin (52).

Assistant Flight Director - 2nd Lieutenant Gaia Gamor (26).

Navigator Johanna Imex (36).
Navigator Eli Strahl (22).​

Ensign Ethan Phillips (23).

Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth (38).
Chief Flight Specialist Thyssi zh’Qaoleq (23).
Flight Specialist Dih Terri (25).
Flight Specialist Winnifreid Salazaar (25).​

.
Director of Ground Operations - Lieutenant Tauk (24).

Assistant Ground Ops Director - 2nd Lieutenant T’Lon (26)

Investigator Buttans Ngumbo (29).
Investigator - vacant (Investigator Lynhart Shran died at age 68 of a heart attack).​

Ensign Tolon Reeves (47).

Tactical Specialist Jarrong (19).
Tactical Specialist Belo Rys (20).
Tactical Specialist Belo Garr (18).
Tactical Specialist Belo Cantys (17).​

.
Director of Engineering - Lieutenant Cmdr. Sarekson Carrera (24).

Assistant Engineering Director - 2nd Lieutenant Moon Sun Salek (42).

Midshipman Tammy Brazil (40).

Transporter Engineer K'rok (19).​

Ensign Sun Ho Hui (24).

Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas (28).
Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs (57).
Flight Engineer Tomos (104).
Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon (19).

​

New to Star Trek Hunter? You can catch up with the series at Ad Astra via this link:

Star Trek Hunter at Ad Astra

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 2: Free Love Wes

15.2
Free Love Wes​

Ensign Sun Ho Hui had recently found a number of excuses to spend more time in navigation/deflector control – a situation that his commanding officer, 2nd Lt. Moon Sun Salek, met with amused tolerance. Over the past few months he had come to really like Navigator Johanna Imex. Neither of them were particularly socially adept – they had both probably spent more time recently talking to each other than they had to everyone else on the U.S.S. Hunter during their entire service.

“…So did you actually know Wesley Crusher?” Imex asked.

“I only joined Dr. Carrera’s team four years ago,” Ensign Sun replied. “We’re the same age – actually, his birthday is five days after mine. He was only 12 years old when he started working with Crusher. And Dr. Moon joined that team about that time – she was still working on her doctorate. They’re the only two here who actually met him.”

“Is it true he could just pop in and out of existence?”

“From what Dr. Moon told me, it’s far more complicated than that,” Sun replied. “Apparently Crusher told her he had to really maintain his concentration or a stray thought could carry him to the other side of the galaxy or millions of years into the past... Actually going where you want to go and arriving when you want to get there is really complicated – as is staying in any one place and time for very long…”

“And he learned all this from an alien?” Imex asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Sun replied. “From what little I’ve heard, I think the alien kind of discovered accidentally that Crusher was capable of manipulating spacetime with his mind and then kind of mentored him in how to control it. Star Fleet records called the alien ‘the Traveler’. They say that both of them could manipulate warp fields around an active warp engine with their minds…”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Dr. Sarekson Carrera had chosen to replicate the clothing he had worn on an expedition in the Andes to the Inca ruins of Machupijchu. Rugged khaki pants, a simple beige shirt with a high thread count over a white undershirt and a light brown leather flight jacket. An expedition helmet was slung by a lanyard over his shoulder. A pair of brown leather gloves were stored in a cargo pocket. He was wearing Star Fleet issue expedition boots. A Star Fleet issue utility belt held a phaser and an engineering tricorder.

He could tell immediately when walking into engineering which of his staff were going through the loop for the first time by their reactions to his clothing. Evidently, at some point he had reported to the captain that the impending implosion, which he had now experienced twice, was not due to his engines or to any abnormalities in local spacetime or subspace, but he was not about to take his own word for it.

Carrera was nearly startled out of his wits by a voice behind him – a voice he had not heard since he was a boy, but one he would always remember…


“Hi Rekki! It’s been a minute…”

Carrera turned around. “Wes???”

The man standing behind him was about 6’2” – but at least three inches of that came from the disco platform shoes he always wore. Long, unruly brown hair tumbled well below his shoulders and a massive beard covered half his chest – but failed to conceal the leather tassels on his blue jean jacket or the random maze of color of the tie-died shirt underneath, or the oversized peace-symbol medallion suspended from his neck by a length of twine. Just as he had been over a decade ago, Wesley Crusher was trim and fit, filling his bell-bottomed jeans precisely – exactly as Carrera remembered him.

Wesley tugged lightly on Carrera’s leather flight jacket. “Man, I love the duds!” he enthused. “You totally look like you’re about to go on an adventure of some sort…” He embraced Carrera warmly, then stepped back and regarded him carefully. “You look fantastic, Rekki, all grown up and it’s clear you own this place.” He looked around the engineering deck.

Dr. Carrera’s staff had also recognized Crusher immediately – he was, right down to his hippie attire, the exact likeness of his statue at the Daystrom Institute central campus on New Eden, Mars (which bore the same inscription as the statue of his younger self on the grounds of Star Fleet Academy in San Francisco.) But only one of Carrera’s engineers had been with the Hunter project long enough to have also met their unexpected interloper.


“Wes?? You don’t look like you’ve aged a day!” exclaimed Dr. Moon. She hugged him enthusiastically, then stepped back.

“I haven’t, Salek” Crusher explained. “You remember when I left?”

“How could I forget it? You just vanished in front of our eyes just over eleven years ago!”

“And where do you think I got off to?”

“Honestly, none of us had any clue…”

“Well, now you know. I stopped at a Klingon outpost fourteen years from now for a raktajino, then came straight here. So when I say it’s been a minute… well… actually, it’s been about twenty minutes…”


“Well, you came just in time,” Carrera said. “I need a professional consultation. I need to know why my engine keeps imploding…”

“I knew this day was coming,” Wes replied. “So let’s have a look at the engine that Rekki built!”


After nearly twenty minutes reviewing the engine in detail and also reviewing sensor readings of local spacetime and subspace soundings, Wes turned to Carrera and said, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with your engine, or with any of these readings, so there’s no reason not to certify this vessel ready for recursive warp.”

“Except that the last two times we did it, the engine imploded,” Carrera replied.

“And we know it’s going to do it again at least six more times from what you told me about Captain Irons,” Wes said.

“Why do we have to keep going through this?” Carrera asked.

“We can figure that out next time,” Wes replied. “It’s time.”

Carrera sighed and called to the bridge. “We are ready to go to recursive warp at warp 9. And we need to do it in exactly two minutes, 28 seconds…”


On the bridge, at the pilot’s station, Lt. Cmdr. Kenny Dolphin had set the timer to engage recursive warp drive at the precise time needed. He had gone through this enough times now to trust the situation. But he was not looking forward to his first time through the loop, when Justice Irons had to sternly order him to hit the switch even though they both knew it would lead to their destruction… again…


The chronometer counted down, finally to zero.


The U.S.S. Hunter promptly imploded, destroying the ship, killing all hands and taking a radius of nearly 110 light years of local spacetime, including several star systems, some of them populated, with it backward into oblivion…

15.2 (of 10)​

 

[Hawku]

The U.S.S. Hunter promptly imploded, destroying the ship, killing all hands

Whatever you do or don't do, do not end your series here.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Whatever you do or don't do, do not end your series here.

Okay... Since you asked...

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 3: Wesley Prime

15.3
Wesley Prime​

Dr. Napoleon Boles came thundering into the medical office, then into the small surgery, where Tauk, T’Lon, Dr. Jazz Sam Sinder and Dr. Tali Shae were seated at one end of the room, having lunch.


“Hunter,” Boles called, breathlessly, “can you display those scans we were just looking at?”

A number of wave patterns were promptly displayed on several of the forensic monitors along the long wall.

“What are you on about, Napoleon?” Tauk asked.

“I’m pretty sure I know why we keep imploding,” Boles answered. “I started to suspect the last time I went through it and I had Hunter take a number of readings…” Boles held up a data card. “I had him transfer the readings to this and kept it on me and it worked! I was able to take data from one loop into the next loop just by putting it on this card and keeping the card on me...”

“Hunter, discontinue display,” said Dr. Tali Shae.

The wave patterns disappeared from the monitors.

“Come with me, Boles,” Tali Shae said, then headed out to the medical office. Her antennae twitched and focused on Dr. Jazz, who was getting up to follow her. “The rest of you stay put.”

Boles followed her forward.


“Sit down, Sam,” Tauk said. “Enjoy your lunch. This is your first time through. You only get one first time, so pay attention to every taste, every flavor.”

“I get to have one last meal eight times and it has to be replicated food…” Dr. Jazz groused.

“Think she’s showing him File 9, Code 8?” T’Lon asked.

“Yes,” Tauk responded.

“I haven’t seen it,” T’Lon said.

“You don’t need to. I didn’t either,” Tauk replied. “You won’t need it either, Sam. It’s just for our command staff and those officers who are so bull headed they might really screw things up if they don’t see it.”

“So they showed it to Kenny,” T’Lon said. It wasn’t a question.

“And, surprisingly, Gaia Gamor. Her boss is starting to rub off on her.”

“You should probably avoid using human aphorisms, sir,” T’Lon said. “I have found they often have additional unintended connotations. Humans have sex on their minds all the time.”

“I meant that she’s starting to pick up some of his characteristics,” Tauk said.

“Next time, I’ll try something other than the hasperat,” Dr. Jazz said. “I always thought the replicated version was passable, but now, really paying attention to it, I have to say it almost exactly fails to please the palate. So, did those patterns Napoleon put up look kind of like brain wave patterns to you?”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Dr. Sarekson Carrera was looking for Wes in Engineering. What he found instead was a very serious looking young man with neatly combed, dark brown hair, wearing gray slacks, a dark gray shirt, and a vest with a number of rectangular patterns of various shades of gray. His clothing was just a little threadbare. With a shock, Carrera recognized this was also Wesley Crusher – at a younger age. He was startled by a pat on his back and found Wes standing next to him.

“Dr. Carrera, Wesley Crusher. Wesley, this is our friend and the lead designer of this vessel, Dr. Sarekson Carrera.”

“Are you… me???” asked the younger Wesley Crusher. “Where did you find those horrible clothes?”

“The Summer of Love, baby…” The older Wesley did a pirouette. “Actually, these fashions weren’t widely available then. This is disco gear from the early 1970’s. I picked it up in Height Ashbury. You’re going to love it back in those days. The women – well – they totally put Risa to shame…”


Dr. Carrera and his entire department watched the Wesleys as if they were watching a tennis match.


“Wait, you took stuff from the 1970’s? You could have altered the timeline.”

“Not possible. But you’ll learn that,” Wes responded.

“Well, from what I sensed, all of those things are in danger,” Wesley said. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the warp core. “Does that thing generate reverse entropy bubbles?”

“Right on, man. I seriously need your help,” Wes responded. “It gets harder to control the implosion every cycle.”

“Well, let’s fix this engine, then,” said Wesley.

“Can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Mind if I have a look for myself?”

“We already did, man, but knock yourself out. Where do you think I came up with the idea for it in the first place?”

“Where did you pick up this ‘man’ stuff from?”

“I told you, baby, Summer of Love… Man are you going to have some wonderful times ahead of you back then…”

Wesley was more or less ignoring Wes at this point, going through the engine specs with Dr. Moon helping him find the files. He turned toward Wes.

“This recursive warp thing – zip drive – this was my idea?”

“Well, ours, yeah”

Wesley put his head in his hand dramatically. “I’m such an idiot…”

“And you talk to yourself too much…”

Wesley gave Wes a dirty look…

Wes turned to Dr. Carrera. “I had forgotten how cute I was at that age. He looks just like that statue of me at Star Fleet Academy… They should have captured me with that expression…”

15.3 (of 10)​

 

[Hawku]

Hahaha, Hippie Wes is totally far out.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Hahaha, Hippie Wes is totally far out.

Glad you're enjoying! More Wesleys on the way... Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 4: Crusherman

15.4
Crusherman​

“I have two sons and a daughter.” Chief Flight Specialist Thyssi zh’Qaoleq was at her watch station in interceptor bay 2 on the starboard side of the U.S.S. Hunter. Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth was at the watch station in interceptor bay 1 on the port side. These watch stations were side by side and separated by a translucent wall, which allowed the interceptor pilots to interact while on watch, but also maintained separate atmosphere control, so that the bays operated independently. A similar wall separated these stations from the shuttle bay (which could only accommodate the wagon.) Flight Specialist Winnifried Salazaar and Navigator Eli Strahl were swatting a small rubber ball back and forth, bouncing it off the wagon. Both were telepathic, but Guth didn’t really care. He had gotten used to them long ago.


“Wait,” said Guth. “You were in the Andorian Imperial Guard for four years and you’ve been in Star Fleet for three years. You don’t look old enough for all of that… When did you have time to have children?”

Thyssi laughed. “You humans are so odd about age. You’re all obsessed with appearing to be younger than you actually are. I’m 23. I joined the AIG when I was 16. My sons are 7 and 5 years old and my daughter is 2.”

“I guess it seems strange to me – trill mothers typically stay with their children at least until we’re 10. Human mothers even longer,” Guth replied.

“That would be really weird. We are typically raised by our grandparents and great grandparents, not by our parents. Andorians become full citizens with full rights and responsibilities at age 15. Every andorian must join the AIG at age 16 – although we can defer that for as long as three years for educational purposes. On their 19th birthday an andorian who has deferred service no longer has a choice. And for every year we defer, we have to add an extra year of service. The minimum is three years, so if you wait until you’re 19, you have to serve six years.”


A panicked Eli Strahl suddenly reached out telepathically to both pilots. They turned to see him standing at the transparent wall behind them. Communication was currently enabled among all three bays.

“Settle down, Eli,” said Guth. “We know. It’s different for everyone. This is my fourth time through the loop…”

“Eighth for me. First time you bothered asking if I have children,” said Thyssi.

“There’s nothing we can do about it. It’s an engineering problem,” Guth added. “Just figure out what you want to do with your remaining lives. We know we go through this eight times. I’m not sure if there are any more cycles. It’s different for everyone…”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Dr. Carrera, Wes, and Wesley – along with most of the Hunter’s engineering department – were standing in a group, watching, stupefied, as another Wesley Crusher – looking much like the younger Wesley Crusher, but wearing red spandex tights and form-fitting black rubber boots – was flying slowly around the warp core, investigating it at close range.

“I’m not sure whether to be embarrassed or impressed,” said Wesley. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that buffed out – I must have really hit the gym…”

“Yeah, the flying trick was pretty cool, too,” said Wes. “Takes a ton of concentration, though and I just don’t have it in me these days. It gets worse than this. We really got into the superhero thing for a while. Thought it would impress the ladies. I even took to wearing a giant blue letter “C” on the chest toward the end. But the whole superhero thing kind of backfired after all that hard work.”

“Backfired? How?” Wesley asked.

“Well, you know, we like girls. But the girls tended to leave Crusherman alone and we kept getting hit on by other men…”

“CRUSHERMAN???” Wesley and Carrera asked in unison.

15.4 (of10)​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 5: Old Man Crusher

15.5
Old Man Crusher​

Justice Minerva Irons leapt out of the captain's chair, then turned to look at it. It shouldn’t still be there. “Kenneth, you have the con until David gets here. DAVID!!! Please report to the bridge. I will be in Engineering.”

As Irons stormed off the bridge, Flight Operations Director Kenneth Dolphin - currently at the pilot station, turned to his assistant director, Gaia Gamor. “Must be her first time through the loop…” His words slowed as he saw the look of blank panic on Gamor’s face.

“Did we just implode???”

“It’s going to be okay, Gaia. Maybe. Everyone experiences this differently. I have standing orders for you,” Dolphin said.

Gamor looked at him, still panicked.

“Go to the captain’s office and access File 9, Code 8. You need to be prepared to follow some orders that you won’t want to follow.”

“What…” Gamor asked.

“I just gave you an order, Lieutenant,” Dolphin said, gently.

Gamor stood up, appreciating her director’s light touch and calmness in the face of calamity. “Aye, sir.” She turned and walked to the captain’s office a little gingerly - as though she were afraid the deck plates might fall apart if she put her feet down too firmly.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Irons had expected to find some form of controlled chaos in Engineering, considering that the U.S.S. Hunter had just, apparently miraculously, recovered from a catastrophic implosion.


She was not expecting a three-ring circus.


Dr. Carrera looked up as Justice Minerva Irons stormed into Engineering, only to be completely flabbergasted by the spectacle of Crusherman and Free Love Wes both flying slowly around the warp core, inspecting it closely while Wesley Crusher prime was pouring over information from an engineering console, standing next to her Director of Engineering - who appeared to be dressed for a field excursion into the early 20th Century…


“So you’re the grand matriarch, Justice Minerva Irons,” came a voice from behind her, startling her nearly out of her skin. An old man dressed in dirty beige robes that were largely indistinguishable from his straggly long gray hair and beard, was standing behind her, leaning on a staff.

Irons whirled to look at him, then back to look at her inappropriately attired Director of Engineering. “Lieutenant, who are all these people? And why are you out of uniform?”

“It’s Lieutenant Commander…”

“Lieutenant Commander???!! Who promoted you???”

“You did, Captain. Please allow me to introduce Wesley Crusher,” Carrera put his hand on the shoulder of Wesley Crusher prime, who was standing next to him, then gestured toward the two somewhat older versions circling the warp core about 10’ off the deck: “Wesley Crusher, Wesley Crusher, and,” Carrera gestured to the old man leaning on his staff behind Irons: “Wesley Crusher.”


For the first time since her worst moments in the andorian courtroom when she could barely stand, Irons felt somewhat faint.


“Get down from there!” she heard Old Man Crusher barking in exasperation toward the two flying Wesleys. “You’re bothering the judge and we all know there is nothing wrong with that engine. Dr. Carrera, Justice Irons - let’s chat… his office…” Old Man Crusher pointed his staff at Dr. Carrera’s office up on deck one.

15.5 (of 10)​

 

[Hawku]

Can never have too many Wesleys!

 

[Gibraltar]

Review 15.1 - Oh, whew! Temporal hijinks I can deal with far better than the destruction of the ship and her stalwart crew. Appears the crew of Hunter have detected this temporal loop faster than did the crew of the Enterprise-D, and have already taken steps to wriggle their collective way free. Hopefully this can be done in such a way as to prevent the horrific sectors-wide destruction that appears to accompany this disaster.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Review 15.1 - ...Appears the crew of Hunter have detected this temporal loop faster than did the crew of the Enterprise-D, and have already taken steps to wriggle their collective way free...

With, perhaps, a little help from their friends... Thanks!! rbs

Can never have too many Wesleys!

How many Wesley Crushers does it take....

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 6: Bob

15.6
Bob​

Transporter Engineer K’rok felt the implosion and knew something had gone terribly wrong. But he stayed at his duty post. If there was anything he could do to help the situation, he was more likely to be needed at Transporter 2 than anywhere else. Internally, he began reciting poetry to steel his nerves and prepare for whatever action might be required.

The order came from Dr. Carrera about three minutes after the implosion. “K’rok, this is Carrera, please beam Jarrong out of Engineering and into the brig.”

“Aye sir,” K’rok responded.


“I have become this boat’s jailor,” K’rok grumbled to himself as he engaged the transporter.


A moment later, his commanding officer, Midshipman Tammy Brazil, walked into the transporter room.

“Are you okay, K’rok?”

“Aside from just having imploded and becoming the Hunter’s designated jailor, everything is bindaas*,” K’rok replied.

“When you didn’t call to check on me, I realized this had to be your first time through,” said Midshipman Brazil. “I don’t know how many times we will go through this, but you called me every time and when it was my first time, you really talked me down off the edge. I’m going to need that from you, okay?”

“I will do that,” K’rok responded.



*bindaas - Hindi: fantastic

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

“Bob?” said Wesley.

“Bob!!!” said Wes.

“Bob??” said Crusherman

“Hi Bob, it’s been forever,” said Old Man Crusher. “You look just like the last time I saw you. Which was now…”

“Bob???” Carrera asked.

The alien standing in the middle of Engineering had a face that was almost as famous as Wesley’s. He was known throughout Star Fleet as “The Traveler” and was listed as a “powerful alien with unknown abilities, but including the ability to travel apparently at will through spacetime as well as the ability to alter the performance of high end warp engines with his mind.” He was also registered as a “generally friendly alien, species unknown.”


“Wesley?” the alien said, looking at each of the four Wesley Crushers. He decided to embrace the oldest version. “If this is truly our most recent meeting, I am so sorry. But you know by now how hard it is to keep track of people when you travel. And how difficult it is to remain anywhere for any length of time.”

The old Wesley Crusher had tears in his eyes. It was clearly affecting Free Love Wes as well. “I’ve missed you, Bob,” said Old Man Crusher.

“We’ve missed much of each other’s lives,” alien Bob replied, glancing about at the three younger Wesleys, suprise registering on his face to varying degrees. “Apparently…”

“Bob???” Carrera repeated.

Wes put his hand on Carrera’s shoulder. “He’s so old he forgot his name long ago. I had to call him something, and ‘Bob’ just kind of… stuck”

“It has the virtue of being easy to remember,” said alien Bob. “I think my original name was a few dozen words long and I don’t remember a single one of them. It had been so long since I had given my actual name to anyone that when Wes asked for my name, I was completely at a loss. The life of a traveler is a fairly solitary existence. I don’t know how long I bounced around spacetime just hoping that someone mildly interesting would show up.”

Alien Bob walked up to Carrera, put his hand on Carrera’s shoulder – two very large fingers and a very large thumb. “Rek, this is a magnificent engine. And you trained your staff very well – they have taken remarkably good care of it.”


“If that’s the case,” responded Carrera, slightly put off by the nickname, “why does my engine keep imploding?”


“You have all the clues you need to answer that question,” said alien Bob. “But you set the rules for this process. That’s why what we are going through now will be referred to as the ‘Carrera Paradox.’ You invented it and it is a beautifully designed paradox… Having people experience different cycles at different times has helped the crew remain calm and focused. I don’t think you would have survived this long if you hadn’t built that feature into the way everyone is experiencing your paradox.”

“Bob’s the big clue,” said Old Man Crusher. “It took forever for me to figure out what he is… You’ve been really studying the higher math theory you downloaded from the great library of the progenitors.”

Carrera nodded. “In theory our entire universe is composed of information that can be directly manipulated mathematically…”

“Look at Bob,” said Old Man Crusher. “Look at his face, closely. Don’t be distracted by his hands – they’re a subspecies anomaly. Look at his face…”

Carrera’s eyes widened – as if the lights had suddenly come on in his brain… “You’re one of the progenitors!”

“That wasn’t what we called ourselves,” said alien Bob. “I’ve forgotten what we called ourselves. Progenitors is a nice name, though. I think my people would have been pleased if they had known you would eventually call them that.”

“I didn’t think there were any of you left,” said Carrera.

“There are billions of us – well, our biological descendants. But they’re all borg.”


“I know what has been causing the implosions,” Carrera said suddenly.

“Took you long enough, numbskull,” said Old Man Crusher. “The problem is not local spacetime or the engine. The problem is the engineer…”


“But this is only the seventh cycle,” Carrera said.

“We’ll all be here after the next implosion to help with the final one,” said Free Love Wes. “During the next and final loop, you’re going to have to set everything in motion with Captain Irons so you can successfully end this paradox. I won’t get to see much of you on the next cycle, so I’ll say it now… It really is great to see you again, and all grown up, Rekki. I know you’ll get to spend some time with Bob. I hope I get to spend some time with you too.” The long-haired, bell-bottom jeans wearing version of Wesley Crusher embraced Carrera again.

The original Wesley Crusher said in exhaustion, “One more loop…”

Crusherman wrapped a red-spandex clad, musclebound arm around the shoulders of his younger self. “You’re a tough kid, you can handle it…”

15.6 (of 10)​

 

[remember...]

Very good

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 7: The Nine Lives of Dr. Sarekson Carrera

15.7
The Nine Lives of Dr. Sarekson Carrera​

Ensign Tolon Reeves was a bit curious why Dr. Sif had summoned him to the medical lounge. Of the seven lounges on board, the medical lounge was the smallest as it only accommodated two forensic specialists. Ensign Tolon had moved into the ensign’s lounge when he was promoted and a few months later Napoleon Boles had taken Tolon’s old sleeping/escape pod in the medical lounge as it was the only room available.

While he still felt it was appropriate for him to bunk with the other ensigns (Sun, Phillips and Chrissiana Trei), Reeves had missed spending time with Sif. Sif was light hearted, often to the point of being silly (a rare trait among forensic medical examiners) and she had somehow made it into her early 30’s still looking and behaving quite girlishly.

Boles wasn’t there at the moment. Sif tackled Reeves on his arrival and began kissing him passionately. She more or less dragged him into her pod. Although completely taken aback, Reeves responded in kind. Sif stopped him for a moment. “This must be your first time through.”

“Through what?” Reeves asked.

“We got blown up, remember?”

Reeves’ eyes grew wide. “I thought that was just a nightmare…”

“Yeah. No. It’s real. And it’s going to happen again and again and again. I’m not the kind of girl to make the first move, Reeves.” Sif trailed her finger down his chest. “So next time, you’re going to have to come here on your own and get things started. Gentle – just like you always are. Sweet talk me a little. I won’t say no. If I’m going to die over and over, I can’t think of a better way to go…”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

In addition to alien Bob and the four Wesleys, another old man was waiting for Dr. Carrera in Engineering – a tiny, bald, but energetic and fit looking man with dark brown eyes, dark, wrinkled brown skin, wearing a brown three-piece suit and a pair of highly polished Wellingtons.

Dr. Carrera walked up to this newest visitor: “Dr. Carrera, I presume?”

The old Dr. Carrera held out his hand to shake hands with his younger self. “Let’s go fix this thing,” he said.

Dr. Carrera shook his own hand – and they both vanished from Engineering.

.

“What are you doing out of uniform, Lieutenant?” Justice Minerva Irons asked as she walked into her office to find her Director of Engineering with another old man who looked vaguely familiar.

“File 9, Code 8. And it’s Lieutenant Commander, Captain. I will need you to promote me on my first trip through the loop.”

“You definitely deserve the promotion, Sarekson,” Irons responded, “but this boat is only authorized for two commanders and two lieutenant commanders.”

“That is one reason you need to put me on extended detached assignment and arrange to have Admiral El Fadil transfer me to Star Fleet Temporal Command,” said the old Carrera.

Irons suddenly looked closely at the old man. Her eyes widened. “Sarekson??”

“Fleet Admiral Carrera,” the old man corrected. “Director of Star Fleet Temporal Command.” He removed a tiny wallet from under his clothing and displayed his Star Fleet ID and rank insignia.

“Admiral El Fadil is just now developing the amendments to the Star Fleet Charter to establish the Temporal Command,” Irons said.

“Which is another reason you need to put me on detached assignment until SFTC is established. You’re going to need me to negotiate with the borg to bring them into the Alpha Quadrant in force to repair the Hulk. I will need the time on detached assignment to develop immunity to their implants and pull together a negotiating team who are similarly immune.”

“What about my ship? Who is going to take your place?” Irons asked.

“Your honor… Minerva,” said the younger Carrera, “I can no longer serve on the Hunter. I am the cause of the implosions. You will need to go to warp 9 in recursive mode at the correct time in every cycle or the damage we are doing with each implosion will become permanent. This is my final cycle. The only way for me to correct the problem is to leave. This is going to be a bit much for you to follow, but I need you to follow me closely here…” Carrera said.


“I have been studying the mathematics of the progenitors – the files we downloaded from the great library of the progenitors. Our universe is composed of information, which can be manipulated consciously through higher math. I have been unconsciously altering local spacetime around me, more and more recently, which has been causing the glitches in the performance of the Hunter’s zip drive. All it takes is a stray thought. Until I gain control over this new… ability… it is unsafe for me to be around any warp engine, especially one set up for recursive warp.”


Irons looked at the younger Carrera. “Where will you go? We aren’t close to any habitable worlds…”

“Spacetime is not a problem for us,” said the older Carrera. “Bob – that is the alien known to Star Fleet as ‘the Traveler’ – will travel with him – that is me – to help us learn how to control this…” The older Carrera made a vague gesture with his hands.

“This meeting is being recorded, your honor,” said the younger Carrera. “You need to keep the data file with you and give it to me on my first trip through the loop, which will coincide with your eighth cycle through the loop. You will also need to advise me of my new assignment and order me out of uniform and into civilian clothing. And to arm myself. It was my first clue that I need to leave. I need to say farewell to Buttans.”

“Who is going to run that engine down there, Sarekson? Who else is capable of it?” Irons asked.

“Dr. Moon. I have been grooming her to take my place. She was on the design team. After me, she knows more about this ship than anyone – even Professor Crumar. Tell her goodbye for me. She may tell you that she has been in love with me for years. If she does, tell her I knew, but there was nothing I could have done about it…”

The younger Carrera vanished. “I need to meet him in Engineering, but I wanted to pass along a joke first – Wesley’s favorite joke,” the older Carrera said.

“I could use one about now,” Irons said.

“Well, and this will make it onto the recording for File 9, Code 8. Here goes: How many Wesley Crushers does it take to stop Rekki Carrera from destroying the Alpha Quadrant?”

“I don’t know,” Irons said.

The older Carrera grinned. “We may never know, but four isn’t enough.” He cackled briefly.

Irons just looked at him.

“Well,” said Fleet Admiral Carrera, “I hope we meet again. It has been wonderful seeing you again, Minerva. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. Don’t forget to keep that data card on you so you can hand it to me along with one of these..” Carrera dug out the wallet with his ID and rank insignia, then tucked it back under his shirt. “Oh, one more thing, that illness among the vulcans? It isn’t an illness. It’s the next stage in their evolution…” Carrera stood up, stretched, and promptly vanished.

15.7 (of 10)​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Very good

Thanks for the kind words! Hope you continue to enjoy the series! Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime
Scene 8: Out With the Old

15.8
Out With the Old​

The loss of Dr. Carrera was nowhere near as disheartening to the crew of the U.S.S. Hunter as the other losses had been, largely because of the amazing future Justice Irons assured everyone was in store for him. Only the executive and senior staff knew what that future would actually entail – and one more person – Investigator Buttans Ngumbo. The loss of the entire tactical squad was softened as well by their reassignment to Ocean and the evident relief this new assignment provided to the Hunter’s youngest crew members.


2nd Lt. Moon Sun Salek met with Justice Minerva Irons in the captain’s office.

“You should not be surprised that Sarekson recommended you not only very highly, but exclusively to serve as our next Director of Engineering,” said Irons. She placed a small box in front of Dr. Moon. Opened it. It contained a single solid rank pip. “My only question is, what, aside from a promotion to lieutenant, do you need to do the job?”

Moon reached up and removed the hollow pip from her collar. Replaced it with the solid pip. She put the hollow pip in the small box and picked the box up. “I need to give this to Ensign Sun – make that 2nd Lieutenant Sun. He is the assistant director I need…”

“I am glad to hear you say that, Lieutenant,” said Irons. “And not surprised. Hui has done well and his dissertation has been receiving praise at the Daystrom Institute, along with his more recent publications.”

“What I am missing is a serious mathematician,” said Moon. “I have a great candidate who joined Star Fleet almost a year ago and is currently serving on Earth. If I send Sun and Guth in the tactical unit, they could have him at Star Base Eleven in time for you to interview him before our shore leave there is up.”

Irons smiled. “Talk to Kenneth about assigning Guth. He may have other ideas. But you’re approved to send Dr. Sun. Must be a great candidate if you’re in such a hurry to get him to SB11.”

“I have an additional reason for wanting to move quickly,” Moon said.

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Irons ordered the U.S.S. Hunter to be landed on Ocean. As they had been more than a year previously, the wagon and the two interceptors were landed separately. But the tactical unit was away on mission.

With the loss of T’Lok Smith and Sarekson Carrera, the only expert surfer remaining on the crew was 2nd Lt. T’Lon. In the morning of their first day on Ocean, Lt. Cmdr. Kenny Dolphin and Buttans Ngumbo went out to surf with T’Lon. And by midmorning, T’Lon was on the waves by herself.

Much as they had been less than a month previously on the beach at Numinor, Dolphin and Buttans, after a few hours surfing, were reclining on beach towels, sheltering under a large beach umbrella.


“Everything has changed so much. And so fast,” Dolphin said.

“Lynhart was my business partner for five years,” Buttans said. “The Investigation Agency of Buttans and Shran… In some ways I was closer to him than I’ve ever been to anyone else. I knew his heart was weak and that he might go at any time. But he just ticked on and on and on and he never let it slow him down. He just seemed so… unstoppable. Immortal. Invincible. You know in more than 30 years on the battlefield for the Andorian Imperial Guard – and 6 years on the New York City Police Department – another 9 years in private practice – he was never once wounded? Not even a scratch. It seemed like he could walk through fire. Seeing him dead was just… It still doesn’t feel real to me.”

“I thought you would be more… that you would miss Sarekson more.”

“We weren’t soul mates, Kenny,” said Buttans. “In a way, I think he deliberately kept some distance from me. And from everyone else. I think he had some instinct that he wouldn’t be staying with us. I’m not sad about him leaving – at least not for myself. I feel a little sorry for him, though – he’s off on some magnificent adventure. But I doubt he’ll ever find anyone to share it with him.”

“What about our tactical squad?” Dolphin asked.

Buttans Ngumbo looked back. Further up the beach, Jarrong and her cousins were being more or less mobbed by the Hunter’s crew members. Dolphin and Buttans both grinned a little as Jarrong suffered awkwardly through one hug after another. Her cousins seemed more comfortable with all the attention and the bulk of it was focused on Belo Cantys even though her pregnancy was not yet showing.

“With everything those kids have been through in their lives,” said Buttans, “well, having them here and as safe as they can be anywhere in this universe… If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s those kids. They’ve served their time in hell…”

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

It was Justice Minerva Irons’ oldest daughter, Ocean’s Planetary Administrator Tamar Irons, who realized the crew of the U.S.S. Hunter needed some sort of commemoration and closure to help them accept the loss of so many crew members. She had recruited Dr. Napoleon Boles for this project even before the Hunter had arrived in orbit. In only two days, working in a large workroom in the resort lodge and assisted by several members of the Irons family, Boles produced a large mural in a romantic bolian painting style known as “heroic heart painting” that portrayed, three times larger than lifesize, Lt. T’Lok Smith, Flight Specialist Joey Chin, Investigator Lynhart Shran, Lt. Cmdr. Sarekson Carrera (in his expeditionary clothing) as well as Tactical Specialists Jarrong, Belo Rys, Belo Garr and Belo Cantys – not as lifelike portraits – but as recognizable heroic caricatures in a group pose that was at once flattering and humorous.

A set of holo-emitters was erected near this mural so that Lt. Tauk (projected from a pressurized section of the resort lodge where he was staying), Dr. Kim, Dr. Raj and the ship’s interactive holographic avatar, Hunter, could pose next to this mural along with the remainder of the Hunter’s crew, including their departing tactical squad members, for a group photogram. Holographic images of Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth and 2nd Lt. Sun Ho Hui (currently away on assignment) were also projected to complete the ensemble.

It was only several hours later as the sun was setting and dinner was being served on the beach that various crew members began to notice that in the large amount of space above the characters in the mural, in extremely subtle hues, an even larger likeness of Justice Irons’ face was watching over the departed crew members. At nightfall, the mural was beamed up to Star Base Eleven and mounted in one of the crew lounges near the large docking bays.

15.8 (of 10)​

 

[Gibraltar]

Reviews 15.2 - 15.6: Loving the arrival of different versions of the Wesleys, as well as The Traveler himself. Everyone seems to be handling things pretty well, despite being able to recall their repeated collective demise. Some excellent cameos in these chapters!

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Reviews 15.2 - 15.6: Loving the arrival of different versions of the Wesleys, as well as The Traveler himself... Some excellent cameos in these chapters!

Thanks for the kind words! Old Man Crusher will return (becoming a kind of Gandalf in this series.) Every time he speaks, your Broca's Area should start to hurt as it grapples with his mistreatment of verb tense...

Thanks!! rbs