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"Future Present, Future Past" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 An unexpected event plunges the crew's mission into chaos. Pesterfield, good points. I've tried to explain my reasoning a little better. :) Two Ensign T’Pol leaned forward on her elbows as she replayed the message from her mother. She could clearly see the jungle foliage over Doctor T’Les’s shoulder. T’Les’s eyes sparkled as she talked, even as her features were impassive. “I hope this transmission finds you well, daughter. The second archaeological excavation at Beta Polaris is going better than we expected. We have compiled Doctor T’Marui’s previous information on the V’tosh ka’tur and have added to that compilation extensively. Doctor T’Nomi has analyzed the mosaics that Jonathan Archer found. I think you will find this interesting.” The screen split into two halves, with the image of a faded mosaic on the left side and her mother on the right. T’Les’s voice continued, “T’Nomi reconstructed what this mosaic looked like nearly eight centuries ago, based on the trace amounts of pigmentation left on the stones. I would like you to focus your attention on the upper right quadrant of the screen.” T’Pol tapped buttons on her console and zoomed in on the area. She saw it immediately: a tall Vulcan standing on a hill overlooking the Beta Polaris settlement, his head tipped toward the sky and one hand raised above his head. The Vulcan wore a strange gray and scarlet uniform and black boots, his hair cut in a severe military style. “Fascinating,” she murmured. She’d seen this figure before, in a hologram she’d found deep underground, among the settlement’s ruins. “In comparison to a mosaic that you found in the underground corridor...I think you would find the significance of this find quite disturbing, T’Pol.” T’Les touched the PADD in her hands and the left side of T’Pol’s screen transformed into another mosaic. This one featured a long, horizontal scene, of winged birds in the sky beaming up hapless Vulcan into their bellies. Again, the colors sharpened and cleared under T’Nomi’s reconstruction efforts and T’Pol saw the figures clearly. She shot forward in her chair, her eyebrows raised almost to her hairline. The figures within the beams wore the same uniforms...and they were smiling. T’Pol’s long fingers touched the controls and panned around the image. Many figures on the ground did not wear the uniforms; their tunics mirrored the Vulcan style of times long past. Those figures were bent in awkward angles, mouths open in silent screams of pain. T’Pol shuddered, suddenly glad she was in her quarters and not on the Bridge. She tapped the comm button again, and T’Les’s image continued her lecture. “This indicates that some of our own brethren are responsible for the disappearance of the Beta Polaris colony so many centuries ago. It is not known if there was some sort of schism of some kind. Doctor T’Nu hypothesizes that the V’tosh ka’tur might have developed some kind of advanced technology, then returned to destroy the colony. All this is conjecture; we have no evidence of their ships or their beam devices. Half of my team still believe that this is only an allegorical story that represents their destruction.” T’Les leaned forward, her tone dropping lower than usual. “Such is also the belief of V’Lar and T’Pau. Soval and I have a different thought on the matter, but as I have said before, we have no proof. T’Pol, I authorize you to share this with the senior staff of your vessel, no one else. If my theories are correct, we might indeed have relatives among the stars, as T’Marui thought. I will contact you again when I have sufficient time to do so. Peace and long life, my daughter.” T’Les’s image winked out. T’Pol sat back in her chair, stunned. Did Mother just say that T’Marui’s theories may actually be plausible? That is extraordinary, to say the least. It is not surprising that neither T’Pau or V’Lar give any credence to T’Marui’s thoughts, but...extraordinary. The sound of the red alert siren broke her out of her musings. Lieutenant Jonathan Archer’s voice called, “All senior staff report to Conference Room One immediately. Repeat, report to Conference Room One immediately.” T’Pol touched the communication button on her desk. “Acknowledged. I will be there in five minutes.” She grabbed her PADD and transferred the information on it. Then she tucked it under her arm and left her quarters. Commander Travis Mayweather stood at the holographic screen of Palmyra Three. The surface of the planet was dotted with dark red patches and green stripes. Enterprise’s First Officer didn’t wear his usual friendly smile; his handsome features were tense with anger and worry. “We received their distress call two hours ago,” Travis said. “It was garbled, but we managed to decipher both the call and the sensor data they sent us. According to the colony’s governor, an orbital bombardment came in the middle of their night and caught them unaware. The major target zones are outlined in red.” “Mostly in the southern hemisphere,” Trip said grimly. “Right where most of their agricultural fields are.” “Yes.” Travis’s expression darkened even more. “Their colonial infrastructure in the northern hemisphere was left mostly intact, which indicates to me that whoever attacked them wanted to cripple them, not destroy them.” “An invasion?” Malcolm said softly. "Wouldn't they have taken out the colony's defense platforms if it was?" Trip asked. "If they had wanted to destroy the planet, wouldn't that be the first thing they'd do?" "Not if they wanted to preserve the platforms for some reason," Travis pointed out. "Save them some rebuilding later." Trip's expression darkened. "If they targeted any of our rescue ships with our own weaponry..." "Exactly," Travis echoed. "Still seems rather arrogant of them." Heads turned at Malcolm's remark. "To leave the defense platforms intact. It sounds as if they don't consider the colony's weapons to be much of a threat to them." Hoshi's dark brown eyes were cold orbs. “Doctor Reed has a point, and that doesn't bode well for how powerful the attackers' weapons are. We might find that out soon. The closest Starfleet installation is Space Station Salem One, and all communication and telemetry with Salem One were cut off abruptly at one-fifteen this morning. We have to assume that the space station was either crippled or destroyed.” “There were three subspace communication buoys between Salem One and Palmyra Three,” Lieutenant Jonathan Archer added. “All three went dead at the same time as Salem One. According to the time indexes, whoever it was attacked Salem One first, then went on to the colony.” “Meaning they’re encroaching into the system, not out of it,” Trip commented. Hoshi nodded. “Our orders are clear. We will render assistance to Palmyra Three and investigate into the attacks. Columbia is on a parallel course with us and will rendezvous with us in nine hours. Shenandoah, V’Etoru and Blannek are ferrying medical supplies and personnel. T’Lien, Agamemnon, and Sevruk are responding to Salem One. Malcolm, we’re expecting a massive medical emergency; I’d like you to get your medical staff and Sickbay prepared.” Malcolm nodded, but T’Pol noticed he didn’t look directly at the captain. “We’ll be ready.” “Commander Phlox is converting Cargo Bays Three and Four into auxiliary medical bays. Trip, I want weapons systems on full alert. Whoever did this might be still lurking around in the system and we might end up in a firefight.” “No problem, Cap’n.” There was no trace of the affable Southerner; he was all business. “Knew we’d have to test out those photon torpedoes sooner or later...wish it wasn’t like this though.” “Jon, send a Priority One to Starfleet and warn them about the possibility of defense weapon fire from the planet, then monitor the channels between us and Palmyra Three. Travis and T’Pol, I want you two to power up our shuttlepods because we’re going to need them.” At Travis’s and T’Pol’s nods, Hoshi said, “All right, people, let’s do it. Dismissed.” The senior staff went about their duties, calmly and not hurrying, as if they’d served together for years instead of mere weeks. T’Pol stuffed the PADD into the breast pocket of her uniform. Her mother’s news could wait. She managed to squeeze into the turbolift before the doors shut. “Looks like we’re gonna be in the thick of things,” Travis commented. He glanced at T’Pol. “You’re one of our best pilots; we might need you at a moment’s notice.” “I understand, Commander,” she replied evenly. She glanced at Malcolm Reed, who seemed lost in thought. “Doctor?” “Eh?” Malcolm started, then realized she’d spoken to him. “Forgive me, Ensign, I was thinking about what will be needed on the planet.” “Understandable.” Yes, it was understandable that Malcolm would be distracted, but she sensed a dark cloud over him that concerned her. Then, another matching surge of darkness from a different source...Trip Tucker, too, had a grim expression, but somehow, it seemed that the Armory Officer wasn’t surprised at the turn of events. Trip caught her look of concern, then said, “Expect the worst, hope for the best.” She nodded in agreement. “Indeed. |
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