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"The Forgotten Time"
Rating: PG Chapter 2 Trip and T’Pol waited, motionless, as if for the punch line. Daniels watched them assimilate the news. Trip unstuck his tongue after a moment. “So, what you’re sayin’… I mean…,” he struggled to frame his frantic thoughts into some sort of coherent question, as he looked incredulously into Daniels’ face. “You sayin’ that those, those… Xindi LIZARDS… manage to wreck Enterprise after all? You’re sayin’ Earth is destroyed?” T’Pol stepped closer to Trip, and spoke discreetly, her eyes low: “Commander, Mr. Daniels has not finished explaining a very complex situation. I advise we ‘hear him out’ before jumping to conclusions.” Trip blinked a burning sensation from his eyes and swallowed as he looked down. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I guess I’m still a little on edge.” T’Pol looked steadily up at Trip with a glimmer of compassion in her eyes. “I believe we are all still somewhat ‘on edge’,” she said quietly. Her eyes lingered on his for a brief moment, and then she turned. “Mr. Daniels, if you would continue?” Daniels watched the exchange with interest. T’Pol’s reassurance had visibly calmed the commander, and both were now waiting expectantly for the rest of the briefing. Daniels suppressed a smile along with the knowledge of the various futures he had seen for these two gifted individuals. Both experts at the tops of their respective fields, skilled officers and explorers… and more alike than one would assume at first glance. In actuality, Daniels almost knew them better than they knew themselves. In researching this mission, he had seen their pasts and futures, not only the ones that they had experienced and would experience in time, but a host of alternate ones as well. He knew each one’s strengths and weaknesses. He knew how remarkably well they complemented one another, each filling in something the other lacked, to form a well-oiled partnership in dozens of possible futures. Knew that out of all the timelines he had witnessed, only the ones in which this unlikely pair managed to see past their differences and make a leap of faith, showed each one evolving to their true potential. They consistently brought out the best in one another in a way that you only came across once or twice in a lifetime. And that is why he had chosen them for this vital and dangerous mission. It must not fail. He cleared his throat audibly while also clearing his mind of anything but the briefing at hand. Jonathan was still suspended in time over there, and Commander Tucker kept glancing at him and looking antsy. Daniels was willing to bet Tucker wouldn’t let him leave the captain like that for too much longer. “Yes. Of course. As I said before, most micro-incursions are harmless. However, some are poised to cause major alterations in the repaired timeline, having serious ramifications for the people and events nearby, and sometimes even centuries or millennia later across the galaxy.” Daniels glanced out the window. “And these must be corrected manually.” T’Pol finally posed a question. “You used that phrase before. What exactly do you mean by ‘manually’?” Turning from the window, Daniels looked at each one in turn and laid it flat out: “Someone has to go in.” He sat in the visitors’ chair he had occupied earlier. “This is going to take awhile; please, sit down.” Always the gentleman, Trip pulled the other visitors’ chair up for T’Pol and then looked around. The only other chair in the room was currently being used by the captain. Trip walked around the desk. He stepped back and squinted at the bizarre scene for a second, before delicately sliding the chair out from underneath his commanding officer’s motionless behind. “Uh, pardon me, Cap’n,” Trip whispered respectfully toward Archer’s left ear. He brought the chair around the desk, and straddling it backwards, joined the other two. They both stared at him. Trip felt the tops of his ears go red. “What?” he asked rather defensively. T’Pol raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I believe the captain was using that chair,” she observed, her tone somewhat reproachful. Trip opened his mouth as he looked to the captain and back to T’Pol. “Well it…it wasn’t technically being used, since the Cap’n,” Trip gestured with his thumb back over his shoulder at the immobile form, “actually, uh, managed to raise his…uh… himself… a little off the seat before Daniels…… paused him? Is that the right word?” Trip gripped his head with his hands and looked around at the ceiling as if searching for an errant housefly. “I can’t believe what I just said. I swear, this job gets weirder every day.” T’Pol disregarded Trip’s harassed state, and inquired with mild surprise, “Surely Captain Archer’s… temporary recess… from our timeline is no ‘weirder’ than your pregnancy of two years ago.” “Pregnancy?” Daniels looked up, startled. Pointing at T’Pol, Trip spluttered, “Yeah, well, what about your ‘slight fever’ back in March of ’53?” T’Pol abruptly turned and changed the subject. “I believe we have digressed long enough from the subject at hand. Mr. Daniels, if you would continue.” Her firm, even voice left no more room for comment. Trip smirked. They both looked at Daniels and were discomfited to find him shaking with silent mirth. Eyes closed, he had tipped his head back, one hand still on the arm of the chair, the other pressed to his temple as he laughed. After a moment in which Trip and T’Pol exchanged a puzzled glance, Daniels calmed himself and took a couple of deep breaths, a grin still lighting his usually stressed face as he wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “I get a such kick out of you two sometimes,” he chuckled to himself as he shook his head tiredly but good-naturedly. “I do not understand.” T’Pol’s acute hearing had caught the comment easily. “Commander Tucker and I have never spent any time together with you before today.” Daniels regarded her and Trip for a minute, his still-amused face softening almost paternally. “Of course not. I — misspoke,” he said smoothly and cleared his throat. T’Pol frowned ever so slightly at his unexpected and gentle response, and then let the matter drop. “You were about to tell us more about this situation.” Daniels leaned forward in his chair, propped himself up with his elbows on his thighs, and nodded. He glanced out the window again and gathered his thoughts. Trip eyed Daniels thoughtfully. “Y’know, no offence, but you look beat,” he observed after noting the droop to the shoulders and wrists. Daniels pulled his gaze from the window and smiled ruefully. “Yeah.” The word came out as an exhalation. “Yeah, I am beat. My team and I have been working on repairing the damage from this whole Xindi fiasco for the last twenty-three months straight. Haven’t had a day off in I don’t even want to think about how long. Though it may seem we have time in the palms of our hands, Commander, it’s never prudent to allow the timeline to remain in disarray for too long overall. Events multiply upon one another exponentially, so we have to work as quickly as possible. Just keeping up with it all is chaotic, to say the least. Time as you understand it today is nothing like time as my century perceives it. And even we have barely scratched the surface.” His voice held both the pride and frustration that comes naturally to any student of the sciences. The more you find out about the way the world works, the more you realize how very little you grasp. Trip looked confused. “You’ve been fixin’ this for twenty-three months? The conflict only ended a few weeks ago.” Daniels and T’Pol simply looked at him for a moment. Trip laughed self-depreciatingly and glanced down. “Right. Time traveler. Got it.” “Getting to that.” Daniels pulled up a new screen on his PADD, and started consulting data charts. “Here’s the bottom line. I need you two to go to Earth. More specifically: San Francisco, July 1, 2155. About a year from now. You are to rendezvous with your future self,” here Daniels nodded at Trip, whose jaw had dropped slightly. “You will find him working in San Francisco.” “What am I… is he… doing in San Francisco?” Trip asked, surprised. “You’re heading a special task force of Starfleet and Vulcan engineers working on improved warp engines for both Enterprise and the new Vulcan flagship. Enterprise is temporarily grounded for overhaul. After the refit, you and your team expect to be able to reach a maximum of warp 8.2.” “Eight point two??” Trip laughed out loud, distracted for a moment. “Really?” “No, actually. Your projections were imprecise.” Trip’s face fell. “History records Enterprise’s test flight on September 7, 2155 as reaching a terminal velocity of no less than warp 9.13. The record stands for quite some time. Even among the Vulcan scientists.” Daniels watched, amused, as Trip’s eyes widened in awe. “Hot damn. You aren't kiddin’, are you?” “No.” “Why are you telling us this?” A flinty voice cut across the exchange. Both men jumped slightly. In their enthusiasm over warp speeds, they had momentarily forgotten T’Pol. She elaborated: “From what I understand of temporal manipulation, by revealing our future, you are placing that very future in jeopardy.” “Ah, yes, I see your point.” Daniels looked uncomfortable. “I have neglected to explain myself fully. Standard policy strictly governs missions that take one into the future, especially one’s own foreseeable future.” “That policy being?” T’Pol asked. “Memories of the events of the mission, up to and including the assignment itself and pre-mission briefing shall be stricken from the cerebral record. A short-term memory wipe will be performed at the completion of the task.” Daniels was firm. “I’m sorry, but it’s the law. And a necessary one at that.” Trip glared at Daniels. “You’re gonna brainwash us.” It wasn’t a question. “Trip. Please look at it from my perspective. You know there’s no other way.” Daniels entreated. “That’s why I haven’t included the captain in this discussion. We are at a critical juncture in the temporal repair, and the more information that is left lying about, the greater the chance that those opposed to our cause will find a way to interfere.” Trip held his ground an instant, then his indignation sagged. Yeah, he knew it would have to be that way. But he didn’t like it one bit. Of course, T’Pol didn’t seem bothered. She was as calm as ever. Trip felt a sudden uncharacteristic annoyance overflow. “Y’know, don’t call me Trip. I hardly know you.” Daniels startled for a brief instant. “I am sorry… Commander. I still get my timelines mixed up every now and again.” “What… you’re sayin’ you and I are buddies in some other timeline?” Disbelievingly, Trip glanced over at T’Pol who had lifted a slim eyebrow. “You’re a hell of a golf partner,” Daniels deadpanned, and left it at that. Trip gaped for a moment, then gave up and shook his head, laughing. Daniels again picked up the thread of his instructions. “Once you contact Mr. Tucker’s future self, you will recruit his help in nullifying the Xindi sabotage. To bring you up to date, I have prepared a PADD containing schematics of both the new Enterprise upgrades and the Xindi weapon. Also, detailed instructions on how to find and destroy it.” He handed the futuristic PADD to T’Pol, who glanced it over and passed it to Trip, commenting, “Trans-duodynetic particle converters are highly theoretical. Vulcan’s most advanced physicists have debated whether they are even possible. I am surprised the Xindi have access to this kind of technology.” “In the tampered timeline, the Reptilians received technology from their transdimensional friends,” Daniels explained. “We calculate that the converter dates from the 33rd century or thereabouts.” Trip held up a hand. “Hold on a sec. I don’t see how the Reptilians are even going to get this thing onboard with the conflict being over.” “Actually, the Reptilians will not place the weapon aboard Enterprise at any point. Remember, this is a micro-incursion we are dealing with here… a random leftover event, isolated from any original cause. The weapon shall simply… appear… due to the incomplete nature of both the tampering and the repair. And since it will be out of temporal phase, it will be invisible — undetectable — until it’s too late. You and T’Pol will be equipped with devices that will render it perceptible to the engineering team. This is why I have chosen you two for the mission. We need someone who will be able to quickly gain the trust and cooperation of the future Commander Tucker. Our experience shows that personnel who are familiar with time travel are most receptive to meeting close colleagues and their own alternate selves. Rather than random time-traveling strangers.” “Like you?” Trip asked dryly. “Yes, exactly like me.” Daniels grinned. “Actually, I would have taken care of this mission myself, but there are other factors at play here that prevent me. I don’t need to go into detail, but the temporal cold war isn’t over yet by any measure.” He frowned. “There are still acts of sabotage present in the timelines with new ones appearing regularly. The results are chaotic in some places, and sometimes it’s easier and more discreet to send someone who already belongs to the timeframe in question.” Here, Daniels stood, reached down, and pulled a small metallic case out from under his chair. Placing it on the captain’s desk, he snapped its latches and opened it to reveal several different devices each cocooned in form-fitting grey foam. Daniels pulled two wristbands out and gave one each to Trip and T’Pol. “I am giving you control over the temporal jump. I understand you may have some things to wrap up on Enterprise before disembarking. You’ll simply activate these wristbands when you are ready. They are preset for the trip forward and the return. Most importantly, they must be worn for the entirety of the mission. Each generates a temporal dampening field that will render the space you occupy invulnerable to fluctuations in the timeline.” He waited for each to fasten the device around their wrist. Discreet and dark grey, they passed easily enough for a functional wristwatch. Daniels turned to T’Pol. He momentarily admired the ever-present strength smoldering in her eyes and hoped it would prove as resilient as he believed it to be. “Sub-Commander, there is something else you need to be aware of concerning this device and its effect on the Vulcan physiology. The strong temporal dampening field has an intense effect on the functioning of the highly developed center of the Vulcan cerebrum that is responsible for the suppression of emotions. After a few hours in the field, most Vulcans begin to temporarily lose their ability to suppress their emotions.” At this news, T’Pol’s eyes had stared and then wrenched downward and to the side. “And what remedy do your Vulcan scientists use to combat this effect?” she asked in a suddenly muted tone. Daniels considered her for a brief moment before clarifying gently, “I am sorry, Sub-Commander, but there is no remedy. Even my Vulcan colleagues in the 31st century face this difficulty. Your people’s exceptional training has continued apace with other innovations, and so most Vulcans in my century have gained the ability to handle it with relative ease. I fear you may find it more problematical. This mission is set to take five days. You must be prepared for the eventuality in which you find yourself without the emotional control you are accustomed to.” “T’Pol’s tougher than you think, Daniels,” Trip put in bracingly. “She’s gonna do just fine.” T’Pol’s blood felt icy and thick. There was a possibility that, with meditation, she could have combated a strong assault on her control… three years ago. But now? After the Trellium? After Trip? Could she slam shut the gates she had just begun to unfasten? It was taking all the control she had at this moment simply not to show the turmoil that enmeshed her voice and prevented her from speaking. Trip looked askance at his friend. Though he’d never in a million years let on, T’Pol wasn’t always very good at hiding the emotional tendencies she had been showing increasingly during her time with the humans on this ship. True, she could fool most, but anyone who had spent as much time with her as he had could pinpoint those moments when the normally controlled Vulcan was having difficulty mastering her feelings. Betrayed mostly by the set of the jaw — and the eyes — the eyes always gave it away. T’Pol usually managed to project a calm air of smooth control over her physical reactions and body language. However, when she was extremely distraught, it shone clearly through her dusky coffee-brown irises, her jumpy and sideward gaze; the look Trip found himself facing now. The stormy, hunted eyes of a thing trapped. To Be Continued….. AUTHOR’S NOTE – Warp drive in Kirk’s time was on a different scale than that of the 24th century (TNG/DS9/Voyager). In Picard’s time, Warp 10 is the max, but Kirk (and, I must assume, Archer & company) could talk about possible speeds upwards of Warp 14. So when I have Trip working with Vulcans on a Warp 8+ engine, it’s not as crazy-fast as it sounds to us 24th century warp experts. =) |
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