I was reminded of an old proverb. “Time past never returns.” Ironically, I was going to the very place that produced that proverb – Earth. It was a strange thing, really. I received a coded message that read, “For Captain Scar’an’s eyes only – prepare for retina scan.” I let the computer scan my eye and read some new orders. The Johnson was going to do a skip, a full blown rescue mission. I was about to hit the comm button when all of a sudden I was standing in the hallway of an enormous building. The odd part was that it was decorated in 19 th century furniture and décor. I figured this had to have been a “Q” stunt, when a tall Tellerite approached me. He said, “Captain Chiita Scar’an, I am called Pok.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look like a Pok.”

He laughed. “Mr. Pok onboard the Johnson is my Ancestor.”

That explained everything – actually, it didn’t. “You’re ancestor? My short Chief Engineer is your ancestor?”

He nodded, “Yes, Sir.”

“You don’t look like a Q.”

He laughed. “Walk with me Sir, and I’ll explain everything.”

 

I did and Pok gave me the run down. As the Captain of the DSE Johnson I was privy to other bits of data that other Captains dream or suspect. Johnson, Timeship, traveled through Time – obvious of course, but there are rules and regulations that must be followed. Rule number one – “Do not pick flowers. It could change the future!” Our last skip was Vulcan, however, the next skip had been pulled. The Klingon Government, respectfully, asked Starfleet to scrub the mission. Starfleet did and placed the Johnson on Deep Space Exploration. We picked up some extra supplies and crew from Starbase 412 and headed out to – space. Pok, our Engineer, had been running the Johnson’s engines hot but that’s what the Intrepid Class was built to do. Run almost full strength for years at a time. And with the second generation of modified Warp engines we could get to any place in no time. There was an area maybe 40 light-years out that Starfleet was interested in – a wormhole that spat way too many gravitons to be normal. We were half way there when the new orders came in.

 

“You understand now, Captain?”

I nodded.

He steered me into a huge auditorium. It was amazing. I saw Klingons, Vulcans, Borg, Xindi, Andorian and a strange race that Pok called Species 8472. He said they are really called “Saso’KaketalpiEn” though Scythiaan had been in use for six centuries now. I realized the 19 th century style was an on-going theme here. After having enjoyed the Gaslight Hunter series I wasn’t too shocked - Much. 19 th century and the 32nd century, mixed? That was strange. The mostly creepy, other thing I noticed, was that nearly everyone talked to themselves. Pok smiled in amusement. He said, “Captain, from the 25 th century on everyone communicates either through embedded comm devices or through telepathy

As much as I love the Johnson and support the advancement of technology, I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable with the computer that intimate. I can see tactical advantages, but twenty four-seven. “They can keep that.”

Pok laughed. “You say that now.”

I looked at him. “You know a lot about me, don’t you?”

He smiled, “What do you think of the décor?”

I stopped, “You brought it up, give.”

“Captain, what would you like to know? When you die? If you and T’Irs have kids? When she dies?”

I sighed, “Alright, maybe. Let me think about it.”

He nodded and we continued walking. “This seat is your’s Captain. I’ll be back after the Director explains the mission.”

So there I was, surrounded by people talking to themselves. A few minutes later a tall dark skinned Human approached the podium. I had an image flash in my mind. It said, “Admiral Mayweather – Head Director.” That was weird. I looked around to see if anyone else was looking around. They were all talking to themselves.

The Admiral began. “Gentle beings, let us begin. At precisely 0000.001 Prime Time regional Twelve all ships will enter time coordinate 20010911.0500 LNL time at 0,0,0. From there you will begin extraction. Those assigned to extract Airline passengers have DNA and Frequency Pattern. A name list will also be supplied. Those that do not match must be left behind. We need only non-correspondal individuals.”

Another image flashed in my mind. It read, “Open your hand.”

I did so and a PADD appeared. For the next half hour I was hit with images, diagrams, clips – all within my head. And that was how the day started. Maybe I was losing my mind like the poor devils talking to themselves. Maybe this was all real – it felt real, and what was being said and shown was serious. The implication was enormous. Saving some 1000 individuals in the past from death to work in the future seemed a bit bizarre, but there you are. Later, Pok told me they had been “recruiting” like this for centuries.

After the Admiral was done, Pok retrieved me and walked me back to the spot he found in.

“Good luck, Captain. I’ll see you again.” Were his parting words.

I said something like, “Okay.” And presto I was back in my seat looking at a message that read, “For Captain Scar’an’s eyes only – prepare for retina scan.” I let the computer scan my eye and read the message. Nothing changed. We were going to participate in a rescue mission. I clicked on the comm button to the bridge.

“Anderson, Yes Sir?” The voice came through.

“Mr. Anderson, prepare for a Skip. One hour.”

“Aye., Sir.”

I clicked the comm button again and said, “Lant?”

After a second her voice came through, “Yes, Sir?”

“Emergency meeting in ten minutes. Assemble the command staff.”

“Yes, Sir.” She said and clicked out. T’Irs was still on duty and would be for another five hours.

The meeting went as expected. The staff thought I lost my mind – at first. After I produced the PADD and had Johnson do a time index on my whereabouts I started getting less stares and more nods. The staff was in agreement. This plan was completely insane.

 

***

 

I hit the impulse switch and I shot away from the Johnson at high velocity. The moment I hit the button I knew the cycle was operating at only 103 percent. I clicked through the system check. It read 105.3 percent. I was disappointed. I knew Pok would never do such a thing, so it had to be one of the engineers. I clicked on the comm. “Pok, this is Chiita. 103 percent.” I clicked off. I had toyed with the idea, once, of having Pok re-calibrate the cycle readouts to reflect 100 percent, but decided to leave it alone. The manual had said during the design phase 105 percent was optimal but 100% was preferred.

“Captain,” Krunare said over the helmet speakers, “Net check.”

I repeated, “Net check.” Then I tapped in the coordinates on the panel. I had twenty minutes to get to the plane. Another five minutes after that to get as many people off. That included shooting the bad guys, identifying the thirty recoveries, getting them to activate temporal transponder and getting off the plane. T’Irs wished me luck. I tapped the engage button and the cycle zipped forward at 13g’s. My BATTLESUIT inflated the leg bladders and squeezed blood to my head so I wouldn’t faint. A second later, the stomach bladder tightened and the cycle cut left and accelerated again. It was on autopilot until it got to where it needed to get to. Within twenty minutes I spotted the plane. The cycle leaped forward a third time and stopped me just over the plane. It touched the top of the plane and the dampeners held it in place. I tapped out the transport command and I was teleported, by the cycle, directly into the plane. A male Human was talking on his communicator. I fast drew and shoot the device. I singed the side of his face a little but at least there would be no outside communications. Then I tossed a low frequency EMP grenade. It flashed banged and the entire cabin with crazy. Men, women, and child alike screamed. I had four minutes 38 seconds. The computer was already programmed to target potential terrorist. It did. I said “Fire!” and four lifeless bodies slumped to the ground. Everyone was stunned into silence. I took off my helmet. I think it was the ears that did it. I said, “I am Captain Chiita Scar’an, I’m here to help. This plane – the plane is not going to make it. I need your cooperation immediately.”

They all stared at me. It was easy to talk to them because the terrorist had most of the passengers crowded in the back. A few nodded. I read off the first name. A child. I tossed a transponder to her. “Push the button.”

She did and sparkled away.

“What is that?” someone yelled.

I yelled back, “Hope.” Then I read the second and third name. I tossed them a transponder. They vanished. I was down to two minutes 10 seconds. I read and tossed as fast as I could. Twenty five saved. Thirty seconds left. The plane dipped right and everyone screamed. I had the foresight to put my helmet back on. I toggled the window to darken. The plane dipped left. I read off the last five names. Four sparkled away. The fifth didn’t. Ten seconds left.

A young woman yelled at the man. “That’s for me.”

Eight seconds left.

He said shut up and hit the button again. Nothing.

The plane pitched forward and down.

Six seconds left. I ran up and snatched the transponder from the man and grabbed the woman.

Three seconds left.

I yelled, “Cycle! Detach, transport two, tracker beam two, accelerate! Engage!”

I heard the scream of air as it compressed in front of the plane. It made that loud whine that told you not to be around.

 

“Shields!”

A fireball surrounded us. The woman was holding on to my neck and this freed up my hands. I hit the thruster button on my wrist pad. The cycle, the woman, and myself surged forward. I grabbed onto her and held on tight. I felt her elbow and shoulder dislocate from the acceleration. I broke several of her ribs, but that was the least of her problem. I caught up to the cycle and climbed on. I placed the woman in front of me.

“Johnson, I have one inbound. Repeat, I have one inbound.”

Krunare came on, “Roger Captain, Dr. Foster and her team are waiting. Lant informs me that the Johnson is dropping below sixty thousand, now. You are in range for transport capture.”

I involuntarily nodded. “Make it happen.”

Seconds later we were in the Johnson’s Hanger bay. Foster and her staff were waiting and they took the young woman. I got off the bike and took a few steps. Tears welled up in my eyes as the realization hit. Only thirty. Only thirty could be saved. Only thirty dead ender, as the term was, would be given a second chance. But it was bittersweet. The others – the others didn’t get that chance. T’Irs walked through the doors and she stopped in front of me. I really didn’t want her to see me crying.

She stared and simply said, “My Husband, please remove your helmet.”

I hesitated for a moment them undid the latches. The helmet came off in a quick hiss and I looked back at my wife.

She stepped closer. “Chiita, you are alright.”

She did not ask because she knew. I felt the sorrow slip away and the dull heart arch was duller. I nodded, “I am alright, now, your place or mine?”

She cocked her head sideways for a moment and then straightened it out. “I would like to go to our place – My Husband.”

I had Cranston assemble our visitors in the Hangar bay. I walked in silent and made my way to the second level. It overlooked the bay. I cleared my throat and said, “People of Earth – do not be afraid.” Three people fainted. That was a bad idea, but it’ll give the crew and myself pleasant memories in our old age. At the moment I wasn’t feeling all that amused. I could just hear it, “You remember when that silly Vulcan captain stood up and said, “People of Earth?” What was he thinking!

After Foster revived the fainters I took a more thought out approach. I walked down the stairs and placed myself in the middle of the group. I slowly turned a full circle, trying to get eye contact from each person. Then I said, “My name is Chiita. Welcome to the 24 th century.” Oh good grief – twelve fainted this time. I sighed. Foster and her team had their work cut out. In the end only three people didn’t faint.

So, how do you really tell someone life as they knew it ended? That life you had back on Earth? Forget about it! Family, friends? You’ll make new ones. As of now you have been given a second chance to a new life. What was that? You don’t care. You’d rather die then be without your wife, husband, boyfriend, girlfriend, mother, father, mommy, daddy, sister, brother, dog, cat, goldfish, lover?

I pointed to the airlock and said, “Take a deep breath. You’ll die faster.”

I pointed to that thing a dozen times.

Silence with each finger pointing.

Then, a representative from Temporal Prime Core beamed in. His name was Colonel John Cord – I remembered seeing him from the Auditorium. I never knew how vast and far reaching Temporal Prime was until recently. They have hundreds of thousands working for them – Most full time, the rest when needed. The Colonel faced the group and said, “Welcome, I am here to help you with your new life. Things are going to be scary at first, but trust me. I’ve been there. For you see, I was born on Earth in the year 1256. I was a simple fisherman and now I help others –“

Everyone listened to the Colonel. He was articulate and I could tell he was sincere. In the end they all beamed to his ship, the Chaos Theory. Now, facing the near empty room a proverb came to mind. “Time waits for no man.” Then I thought, ‘Why should it? Man went to it!’

 

End of Episode I - Happenstances