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Title: A Stitch In Time Summary: When another of Mulder's wild goose chases suddenly turns out to be on target, Scully is thrown into a situation in which the future mirrors the past, and she learns that knowing the truth can be much worse than being blissfully ignorant. Technical notes: The following is a crossover between the X-files and Star Trek(original) universes. There have been a number of well-written TNG/XF cross overs, but, so far as I am aware, there hasn't been anything done in the X-files/ST: genre. It is, for me at least, an interesting challenge due to the need to fit the X-files timeline and conditions into the history that we are given in Star Trek. Fortunately, with only slight bending, the job was not as difficult as I had expected. Originally, I'd planned to look at how the two teams of characters, I.E. Kirk, McCoy, and Spock, and Mulder and Scully would interact. However, as things progressed, it became necessary to alter this plan slightly in order to move the story to a workable conclusion that would allow it to live in the Star Trek time line. Of course, there were some technical issues, and as a fan of the original series, (and therefore, like many others of that show, a very picky student of Treknology and history), I had some careful balancing to do. Below is a brief discussion of the time line that I have chosen, which is a combination of that which we see in TOS, and in ST:VIII: First Contact. This time line assumes that Earth's official first contact comes with the Vulcans in 2061, despite the fact that the old series seems to contradict what is said in the movie, a rather common occurrance between the old series and TNG. The rest of the time line is set in that established in the original series. The Vegan Tyranny is taken from a book called _A History of the Federation_, whose authorship and other copyright data are unknown to me. I believe that the Vegan Tyranny is also referred to in an episode of TOS, but have been totally unable to search out the episode in question. There are a few facts and assumptions taken from FASA Corporation's Star Trek: Tactical Simulator, whose discussions on Treknology are far more internally consistent than the Sternbach and Okuda _Star Trek: The Next Generation- Technical Manual_, and so have been used in favor of any material in that work. The primary of these is the calculation of warp factoring, which assumes that warp is calculated as X*^3, or as any number times the speed of light with that number being raised to the third power. I.E. Warp eight is shown as 8^3*C, which is 512C, or 512 times the speed of light. Several Original Series episodes are referred to in this work, but familiarity with them is far from necessary for a complete understanding of the action in this work. They are: City on The Edge of Forever, Errand of Mercy, Requiem for Methuselah, Space Seed, The Changeling, and The Savage Curtain. Thanks to many kind people reading alt.startrek.creative, rec.arts.startrek.fandom, and rec.arts.startrek.misc, for help with identifying a couple of these episodes, whose titles were unknown to me. A huge Thank you goes to Jan Morier for her help with Scully characterization and general editorial thoughts. Any errors that have "slipped through" are probably the result of my own pass after working in Jan's changes, so blame *me* not her for any problems that you see. Copyright statement: Story copyright Matthew Weed, 1996 and 1997. All characters in Star Trek are copyright Paramount Pictures Corp, and those of the X-files to Chris Carter and 10:13 Productions/Fox TV Corporation. No copyright infringement is intended by their use. Characters in this story not copywritten by those bodies are copyright 1996 and 1997 to Matthew Weed. Dedication: This story is dedicated to the late Mr. Gene Roddenberry, whose vision as expressed in Star Trek has grown to incredible proportions as it has grown over the last thirty years, and which has changed the face of science fiction, and hopefully our society, forever. Also dedicated to the late Professor Donald E. Stokes of Princeton University, whose work on the "science" of Policy, and how policy affects science, will hopefully bring all of us a little closer to understanding how science affects our lives, and how those of us who are scientists, can hopefully affect the policy that controls more and more of our work.
"There are few ironclad rules of diplomacy but to one there is no exception.When an official reports that talks were useful, it can safely be concluded that nothing was accomplished."--John Kenneth Galbraith: I. Monday October 28, 1997 exact time unknown. Outer space, somewhere near Earth Sunday October 27, 1997 exact time unknown: A Vulcan Science Service vessel in orbit of Earth. The mission had gone well, and Commander T'klir was beginning to think that it was time to set course for Vulcan, which she hoped to achieve within a quarter of a year as measured on the odd world which they had orbited for nearly a year, Vulcan standard time. It was truly incredible to see how violent these people were, and yet how inventive, inquisitive, and overtly curious they were, both about themselves, and about the universe around them. Since the last visit of a Vulcan vessel to the planet, some twenty years ago Earth time, the "cold" war that had gripped the planet had ended, which meant that a number of large sections of the world had become distinctly more peaceful, while others had become increasingly violent. The humans had launched a number of satellites capable of doing a great deal of analysis of local and distant space, and it was only a matter of time before they would learn just how much potential for the support of space travel their world had. When this time came, probably a century into their future, the Vulcans would be waiting for them. However, at the moment, it was time for this group of scientists to set their minds on getting home. Unfortunately, other, less friendly powers were also on the move, and The Vulcans' plans were brought to a crashing halt by the blast of disrupter fire from the long-necked ship that appeared for just a moment before its powerful weapons blast tore into the Vulcan survey craft, beginning its fiery descent into the cool, water-rich atmosphere below. Monday, October 28, 1997, 8:19 AM EDT, Room 316 in A Howard Johnson's in Honolulu Hawaii. "...I'm sorry Chuck, but we've got a breaking story coming into the CNN News center here in Atlanta." Mulder, who almost never watched CNN was caught for some reason by the announcement as he flipped through the channels on the TV in his room. He never watched the news, after all, he knew what a sham most of it was, drivel produced by the shadow government to keep the people from knowing the things that they *should* know. However, CNN *never* broke into its regular schedule and since he'd been waiting for the sports scores to come on from the football games on the continent, he was more than willing to wait a couple of minutes to see what they had to say. The drowning of the TV brought him back to the present as the CNN news center was replaced by a map of the Pacific basin, with a highlighted ring around the "big island" of Hawaii. "...According to Defense Department spokesman Martin Leader, a satellite unexpectedly lost orbit over the Pacific Ocean last night, crashing into an unpopulated section of the Hawaiian Islands. He reports that no civilian casualties were suffered, and that ...." Mulder had just finished his run, hoping that it would clear his head after the capture of the Wikeke Whacker, as the man whom Scully had arrested earlier in the evening, had become known. He was a truly nasty specimen, who had a highly ritualistic manner of killing his victims. His methods had left his thirteen victims pleading for a death that he had been in no hurry to allow. Had Mulder not been facing the right direction, he probably wouldn't have seen the explosion, or the steadily descending streak of brilliant light that moved across the sky, disappearing below the horizon to the northwest of him. He had certainly been curious, even then, at the seemingly controlled nature of the descent, but had put it out of his mind until future events could draw it back to his attention. "Holy shit!" he yelled, wrestling into some clothes that would work to get them to the airport, and onto a charter flight for Helo, the largest city on the Island of Hawaii. "Scully!!!!!!" he yelled, pounding on the door that connected their rooms. "Get up, we're headed for the airport, there's been some kind of crash on the Big Island, and I think it might be a UFO." Dana Scully, who had been all-too-glad to get their last case over and done with, really tried to ignore the pounding on the door, and Mulder's insistent voice calling her from the first sleep that she'd had in more than two days. However, she knew that he wasn't going to go away unless she told him to, and so she got out of bed and moved to the connecting door. "Mulder," she said, it's 2:26 in the morning, and I've not slept in *way* too long. What the hell do you want?!" "Scully, You remember I told you about that meteorite that I saw while I was out last night?" "Sure," she said, not believing that he was waking her up over what was obviously a meteorite. Even Mulder couldn't be *that* obsessed. "Well, they just had a report on CNN, the Defense Department said that it was an old spy satellite, but the track was *way* too controlled for something like that, and anyway, it should have been announced long before it was supposed to come down." "Can't you just for once believe that its a satellite, and not some alien that we need to go chasing all over the Pacific at this time of the morning? I'm tired, let's deal with this later!" she snapped, becoming well and truly tired of Mulder's theory, "Scully, I'm sure that it wasn't a damaged satellite, no matter what it was, and I'm off to the airport. If you want to come along that's great, but either way, I'm going," said Mulder, his razor-sharp mind coming to a conclusion and following it to its "logical" end, no matter the fact that the logic had been come to in leaps, and not in a scientifically logical manner like that preferred by his partner. "Mulder, it was a *meteorite*!," she yelled, "and I'm way too tired to deal with something like this right now. For god's sake go to bed and forget about it." Mulder turned away from her, determined to get to the crash site before anyone else who might have the authority to deal with ... whatever it was, did. If that meant finding Hawaii's equivalent of a bush pilot to get to the big island in the Hawaiian archipelago, and paying him or her out of his own pocket, then so be it. Scully, who knew Mulder's determination to expose the "truth" that aliens were out there, quickly realized that she had already lost the war, and might as well do what she could to keep Mulder alive while helping him to fight his battles. "Well, I can see that I'm not going to dissuade you," Scully grumbled. "I just hope that this is something good, otherwise I'm going to put my medical training to good use and put *you* in the hospital, just so that I know what you're doing." Mulder's triumphant grin was almost more than she could stand. Star date 7436.0, quarters of Admiral James T. Kirk, aboard the United Starship Enterprise. James Kirk lay fast asleep in the captain's quarters of the ship that he, and most of the rest of Star Fleet, viewed as his. The struggle to get back into space had been hard, and for all he knew, he might have to fight Heihachiro Nogura, Star Fleet's senior-most admiral in order to stay there. However, for the moment, both consciously, and subconsciously, he was more than ready to enjoy his time away from the paperwork and other foolishness that seemed to go along with commanding a Federation star ship. Unfortunately, he wasn't destined to rest, a truth brought home by the blast of noise from the ship's red alert klaxons that effectively ended his attempt to go to sleep. "Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" came ringing through the PA system, which had been automatically engaged by the ship's ever-vigilant computer. Within moments, Kirk was wide awake and in contact with the young lieutenant who was serving as third watch bridge officer while most of the ship's crew slept. "What's going on up there Lieutenant?" Kirk demanded, looking at the young Vulcan woman who responded to his page. "Admiral, the ship's intruder monitors are reporting an energy-based life form on deck 5, near your quarters. The life signs are extremely strong, and the computer reports that there is no recorded pattern that matches the being's energy flux." "Understood, call security to officers' country, and make sure that Mr. Spock, and Dr. McCoy report here too." "Yes Sir," came from the monitor before Kirk closed the channel. At this moment, someone signaled at the door of his quarters, and Kirk moved to answer the door. When it opened, he was shocked to his core when his brain supplied the name of the being whostood in the corridor. "Ayelborne!" he said, staring at the Organian who had come to speak with him. "What are you doing on my ship?" he demanded, knowing that whatever his business, the alien would not have come unless the situation at hand were extremely serious. He knew, better than most Federation commanders the unwillingness of the Organians to "interfere," in the business of the Federation. In fact, since they had forced the Federation and Klingon Empire to accept a cease-fire some years ago, they had never visited a Federation or Klingon ship that was not preparing to try, in some small way, to break the treaty. The fact that one of their leaders was standing in his doorway made Kirk increasingly uncomfortable, and he was glad for the diversion when the alien broke the brief silence that had come over them. "Admiral Kirk," said the being, just as Spock and McCoy came racing down the corridor from opposite directions, "...a very serious situation has arisen, the danger from which we did not realize until it was too late. Unfortunately, we are now unable to correct it without your help." The three Federation officers exchanged shocked looks, and finally McCoy, who had never met the Organians personally, exploded: "What the hell do you mean, *we* have to fix things. I thought that you were capable of keeping us mere mortals from causing each other too much harm...." Ayelborne barely responded to the doctor's loud voice, but when his response came, it chilled all of them to the bone. "Doctor McCoy, Mr. Spock is correct in his analysis that you can sometimes be too emotional. Unfortunately, although we can keep you from doing damage to your enemies in this time frame, we were not prepared for the possibility that they might attempt to do damage to you in the past. We know that your Federation has always acted responsibly when sending its officers back in time, and had not realized that the Klingon Empire had the ability to travel into the past as well. So, when it happened, and the mission proved to be intended to change the history of your Earth, we received an unpleasant shock." "Gentlemen," Kirk said quietly, "Let's take this discussion into my quarters." McCoy seemed ready to argue the point, until he saw the growing pack of junior officers that Scotty and Uhura were barely holding back. "A wise suggestion Admiral, however, I must tell you that I have very little time before I must leave you in order to do what I can to maintain the time frame long enough for you to succeed in your forthcoming mission." As soon as the four had slipped into the living/meeting area of his quarters, Kirk brought the discussion back on focus. "Well," said Kirk, his shoulders tightening in response to the new situation, "What *can* you tell me, and why have you told us, rather than Star Fleet Command?" "Admiral, I know almost nothing, because we paid little attention to the activities of your races some three hundred of your years in the past. Unfortunately for all of us, the ship that carried out this mission did so with great haste, and possibly with outside assistance as well. As a result, we know very little of the ship, and even less of the exact event in history which they used as a fulcrum in their attempt to destroy your Federation. What we do know is that the officers in question have gone rogue, and that they are aboard one of the Klingons' new "bird of prey" class vessels. We know that they have passed back to late October in the year 1997, as measured on your Earth, and that they have found a way to bring awareness of alien life to that planet more than sixty years before fate says that this knowledge should have come to your world. We believe that they may have shot down a vessel in the Vulcan Scientific Service, and that its remains, and possibly those of survivors of the crash, were captured by the government of the Then-United States of America. As you know, the remains of other alien races had already come into the hands of that state's government, and there were those who tried to make their existence known to the general population. Unfortunately, as a result of the Klingon raid, those working to expose the existence of non-terrestrial life were successful in this instance." "Ayelborne, if I may pose a question," Spock said, from where he sat on one of Kirk's chairs. "Your questions are always welcomed, Mr. Spock." "Hm," muttered McCoy, "He sure doesn't mind *your* questions, Spock." "Doctor, I do not think that your questions are inappropriate, just asked from an emotional standpoint. Even you must admit that logical questions will elicit information with greater rapidity than those posed without careful consideration." Knowing McCoy's likely response, Kirk interrupted his two friends before one of their verbal sparring matches could erupt. "I'm sure that we will have plenty of time to debate the merits of your questions ... later." "Indeed Admiral, you are correct," said Ayelborne, "Unfortunately, my time with you is growing short, as we must do all that we can to hold this time line together long enough for you to go back and repair the damage as best you can. ... Mr. Spock had a question." "That is correct," said Spock. "As you know, almost all Federation citizens are aware of the existence of what Earth has come to know as the "Vulcan watch" or "period of observation". Are you certain that the ship in question is Vulcan?" "We believe that it was a Vulcan craft, but as you know, there were a number of other races, not least the Vegans, who were interested in Earth at that time." "We have little knowledge of those who were at the core of the Vegan tyranny, only that it existed. Can you give us any information on these people so that if it is they for whom we are looking, we will have the ability to find them quickly once we go back in time?" "Spock," said Kirk quietly, "I haven't decided to go back yet, I still want to know why we were contacted directly, rather than going through Star Fleet channels." "Admiral, you were chosen because you have the most experience in dealing with Earth of the past, and your vessel is capable of defeating a bird of prey without difficulty, should the Klingons try to keep you from repairing the damage that they do. Trethane is already in contact with your Admiral Nogura, and as the request for your vessel comes from us, and your vessel is not currently on assignment, there will be little difficulty in convincing him that you were our only acceptable choice." "Excellent logic," murmured Spock, only barely aware that he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "Ayelborne, when we met the Klingons at Organia, you wanted to avoid allowing us to do harm to each other. Why are you now letting us go back in time, at least partly because we can defeat the Klingon ship?" Kirk asked, suspecting that he knew the answer. "Admiral, you must understand, we don't condone violence, either yours, or that caused by the Klingons. However, the Klingons have done something that will kill billions of humans in the alternate future, and this we can not permit, even at the risk of a loss of life. If we were able to control them as we did you the last time, this wouldn't be necessary. It is, and that is why we are sending you with our blessings. The risk to the peace that currently exists in the galaxy is simply too great to permit the use of your somewhat cumbersome bureaucracy in making our request. Should you not accept this mission, the Klingons will succeed in their purpose, and it is certain that the societal upheavals resulting from the Klingons' interference on Earth will result in the collapse of the civilization on that world. Furthermore, the Federation will never exist, and as a result, the Klingons will come to dominate this portion of the galaxy, a rule that will result in billions of deaths that fate has decreed are not supposed to occur." The stunned silence in Kirk's quarters was broken by Spock, who due to his superior emotional control, was able to recover from what Ayelborne had said before the others had fully processed it. "Admiral," Spock said quietly, "I believe that we must go back, Ayelborne's reasons are flawlessly logical, and minimize the possible harm to life that can come of these events." Kirk, who immediately trusted Spock's analysis, quickly turned to more important matters. "You said that you can do nothing to affect the past, so I expect that you're not going to be able to help?" "No, I must stay here, so that I may lend my energies to our effort to maintain the time line long enough for you to deflect the changes that have been wrought, for if you fail, there will be no United Federation of Planets, and we will not have sufficient awareness of the proper path of time to attempt another correction through other means." "Very well, do you have any suggestions as to where we should try to go back in time, it'll be risky to try warping back to the end of the twentieth century in Sol system, ... Earth already had too many ways of knowing what was going on in local space for us to try it with a ship of this size." "Try St. Peter's star," said Ayelborne as his image wavered and disappeared. Monday, October 28, 1997 8:30 AM, EDT Office of "Cancer man" Somewhere in Washington DC. "What do you mean our nearest retrieval team is in California? I would have thought that you people would be sufficiently competent to know that it's just as likely to have something land in the Mid Pacific as it is in the Western states. In fact, many of the people with whom I deal would *rather* land out there, simply because there's a much better chance of concealing their trash in twenty thousand feet of water than in a desert." The voice on the other end of the phone made its typical excuses and told him that, if everything went according to plan, they would be the first of the interested parties at the crash site. Of course, even if the team assigned to Hawaii, Guam, and the other mid-Pacific islands had been on scene rather than on leave, it would still have taken time to get from their base to the crash site. However, since the crash had occurred in a national park, Cancer man figured that the park rangers could keep things more or less clear for a while, and the appropriately placed threats would ensure that none of them told what they might or might not have seen. However, he was a fervent believer in Murphy's law, and as he reached to grab the phone after its second ring, he was all-too-clearly reminded of this fact. "Sir, its Jenkins, I've got information here that says that Agents Mulder and Scully are in Hawaii just finishing up a serial killing case. If we've got a real situation on our hands, we'd probably better be ready to handle Mulder, along with any of the normal crazies that always seem to be attracted by this kind of news." "Damn!" Cancer man grumbled, "Well, just make damned sure that our team gets out there before Mulder can get to the site, if necessary fly them out on navy jets or Aurora. If Mulder gets out there first, we could be looking at a class one failure in our security apparatus, and I don't want to remind you what will happen if *that* occurs.," he said, shying away from thoughts of the disastrous effects of such an occurrance only moments after his reminder to his subordinate. " "Very good, report your progress, and please don't let me down," replied Cancer man before slamming the phone down. Now, maybe he could get that idiot Skinner to recall his agents before they could hear too much about all of this. "Now entering far-earth Orbit," came Hikaru Sulu's quiet announcement as enterprise decelerated sharply from high-warp speed. "Good Job, Sulu," Kirk said before turning his attention to his science officer and friend. "Spock, can you get an estimate of the date?" "An estimate will take some time Captain, Ms. Uhura is monitoring the mass media of the time, and there will doubtless be a delay in generating an accurate estimate of our current location in the time stream. However, I note that there is a Vulcan science vessel in high orbit, and that we should work to stay in the planet's relative censor shadow." "Why Spock," demanded McCoy who, as always happened when there was nothing going on in sick bay that required his attention, had gravitated to the bridge and was in his accustomed place, leaning against the back of the Captain's chair. "After all, if we're there, we can probably intimidate the Klingons into going away." "Doubtful Doctor," replied Spock. "The risk to the time stream is great in either case. The Klingons are doubtless determined to carry out their mission, and a knowledge of our existence might well change the course of Vulcan's development, which might damage the time stream as seriously as the Klingon interference has." "So Spock, you're sayin' that we can't even protect the Vulcans from the Klingons?" "No Doctor, although I believe that such protection may well prove to be beyond our capability if we are to avoid exposing the Vulcans of this time to our technology." replied Spock. "Gentlemen, I need alternatives, so pull any resources that you need to come up with a way to keep the Klingons from doing ... whatever they intend to do." "As I am sure you are aware sir, it would be very helpful to know what the Klingons intend to do. Without this knowledge, avoiding the almost infinite number of possible scenarios will be very difficult," Spock said. "I know Spock, but we don't have many alternatives, and probably not much time either, so we'll just have to come up with something and make it work." replied Kirk, whose confidence came from the knowledge that this crew had worked together to solve problems that were far more hopeless than this one appeared to be. "My lord, we are now in orbit of Earth, 350 Kalikams aft-starboard of the Vulcan craft. We will be able to fire as soon as the computer is clear to switch power from the cloaking device to weapons." "Very well lieutenant, notify me when our preparations are complete. It is a great day when, with one shot, we can destroy the Federation for all time," said Commander Klar, an anticipatory gleam coming into his usually expressionless eyes. "Admiral, I have confirmed time coordinates, we are now in late October, 1997, at the exact point which Trethane's report to Admiral Nogura says that time was disrupted." Spock's voice reported over Kirk's desk intercom. "Fine Spock," put the ship on red alert," said Kirk, suspecting that whatever was going to occur would happen soon. "My lord, we are ready to fire," "Switch all power to forward disrupters, disengage cloaking device!" Two and a half seconds later, Klar saw that his ship was ready. "Pach!" he cried. Moments later, the ship's disrupter bolt tore through the small Vulcan research ship, beginning its fiery descent into the atmosphere of the planet below. "My lord! Federation battle cruiser moving to fire on us, it's the Enterprise!" cried his helm officer just before the larger ship's bolt of high-powered phaser fire ripped through the ship's engineering section, rendering it dead in space. Moments later, as it had been set to under such circumstances, the Klingon bird of Prey exploded, causing a brilliant fireball over the northern Pacific Ocean. "Mr. Chekhov, I thought that you were to cripple, not destroy the target," Kirk said quietly, his voice carrying only a small hint of disappointment, after all, he had expected these Klingons to die rather than be captured. "Sair, I believe that the Klingon wessel was booby trapped," said Chekhov. "I'm sure that our fire shouldn't have destroyed them." " Admiral, I have confirmed Mr. Chekhov's conjecture," Spock said turning from his instruments. "I have reviewed our sensor logs from the decloaking phase of the Klingon attack, and it is more than 98% certain that they had impact actuated charges connected to their main power source." "All right, Spock," said Kirk quietly. "Can we track the ship that they fired on?" "Affirmative sir, however, it will be impossible to prevent an impact on the planet's surface, the vessel's descent is generating unusually high levels of radiation that are interfering with sensors and will prevent tractor lock." "What about the transporters?" "Unfortunately, transporter function is also being interfered with. From telescopic views alone, I am now projecting an impact in the Hawaiian Island chain in approximately four minutes. I suggest that we take up a geosynchronous orbit over that region so that we may affect a rescue and removal of the remains of the craft with alacrity, once it has achieved landfall." "Mr. Sulu, set course, one quarter impulse power. Mr. Chekhov, increase the frequency defraction of the shields in case we need to get closer to the surface. Maintain stand-by on weapons, and bring the ship to yellow alert." "Aye Sir," replied the two younger officers from their positions at the front of the bridge. October 27, 1997, 3:30 EDT: A two-person ultra light somewhere over the lower slopes of Mauna Loa, Hawaii. "Mulder, would you watch where you're flying?" Scully yelled, still amazed that she had let her partner drag her out here on what she was still convinced was a wild goose chase. The fact that they were sitting in something that was effectively a powered hang glider didn't do her any good either, and she was looking forward to getting her feet back on the ground. "Scully, don't worry about it, I've been doing this on and off for years, the problem is that when you're out of town so much, it's hard to keep up with your skills. I think that it's a great way to get away from things from time to time, and these things are perfect for getting into places that are hard to access from the ground." "So you're telling me that you learned how to fly one of these things in order to have a "better" way to get to suspected UFO crash sites that you'd otherwise have had trouble accessing?" she asked, incredulous. "Well, that wasn't my original idea in learning how, and I've never used an ultra light for this before, but it *is* a handy and comparatively cheap way of getting into the back country, considering that I don't have the money for a helicopter." "Right," Scully sighed, deciding to sit back and, to the degree that she could, enjoy the ride. Some minutes later, as the engine drowned on behind them, she felt the small machine begin to shake and roll in response to the rapidly darkening sky. "Mulder, shouldn't we land and wait out the storm?" she asked, her eyes darting nervously toward the clouds above them. "We're about ten miles from where the guy that I rented this thing from said that he'd heard the "satellite" had crashed. I think that we'll be able to get close to the site before the storm hits." "I hope you're right, because if we crash, and both survive, I'm going to make sure that you regret having brought me along on this wild goose chase." she threatened, her voice unusually resolute. "Well Scully, at least you won't be doing anything out of the ordinary," he said with a wide grin. The look that she gave him would have scared him, had he not seen, off to their right, a large section of forest that was still emitting puffs of smoke from a fire that had clearly burned itself out very recently. "Scully, I think that I've got it, I'll find a place to land and we can check this out." "Good," she said. "Since it'll be a satellite, I'll make you take me out to dinner at the best place in DC when we get back." "If it's a satellite, I'll do that, and clean the office too," he said, now truly afraid that his hunch was wrong, and that he would be faced with losing a weekend to organizing the enormous, and to everyone except him, utterly disorganized filing system that dominated every open space in their small basement office. Before she could respond, he had banked the small aircraft to the right, and began looking for a clearing large enough to land the machine in. October 27, 1997 2100 hours GMT "Admiral, the landing party is ready to transport to the surface," came Spock's quiet voice over Kirk's desk communicator. "Good," said Kirk as he rose and headed for his door. When Admiral James T. Kirk entered the transporter room, he had to suppress a grin at the odd party that stood before him. All of them were in camouflage wear designed by ship's stores according to the military standards of the late twentieth century. Only he, Kirk, wore regular military dress for the time, choosing to go as a captain in the United States Navy. Hopefully this little subterfuge would delay any military or civilian authority who might be on the scene long enough for Enterprise' landing party to determine how best to get the wrecked ship off of the planet. After the wreck was moved into orbit, it would be up to Enterprise's engineering staff to repair it so that the ship could be sent back to Vulcan. Depending on the condition of both ship and crew, the ship would be sent to Vulcan under automation. However, if the crew was in fairly good shape, they might be able to release it, and after Enterprise had escaped in order to prevent contamination of the time stream, allow them to pilot it home by themselves. Hopefully another Vulcan craft would pick up their distress signal and be able to take ship and crew back to their home world. It wasn't a great plan, but they all knew that they had to get the ship back to its planet of origin as no significant losses had been recorded by the Vulcan space service during the late twentieth century on Earth, or anywhere else in Vulcan's known galaxy at this point in time. Although there was no proof aside from Ayelborne's word, Kirk was instinctively sure that the problem in time was related to Earth, not Vulcan, and so most of his effort had been focused on finding out what he could about the actors that might play a role in any major event that might be related to the wrecked craft that, by all rights, should not be there. On the one hand, there were a number of interesting groups related to a number of the governments of the time. The Consortium, a secret organization dedicated to covering up the "secret" contacts that Earth had already had with various near-by civilizations was probably the most important of these groups. On the "expose the truth" side were groups like MUFON and Nicap, and a pair of agents in something called the Federal Bureau of Investigation, who seemed to be heavily involved in such matters. Well, he, James Kirk, would have to to ensure, through both direct intervention, and if necessary, covert communication with the consortium, that the existence of this Vulcan ship would remain unknown to the people at large. Earth was not ready for this knowledge, and would not be for another ... 64 years.
II. 4:13 PM EST, Monday October 28, 1997 Office of Cancer man. "This had better be good!" he snapped into the phone that lay on the right hand edge of his desk, a phone that had only rung three times in the twenty years that he had occupied this particular post. "Sir, we have faint indications of a very large object orbiting the planet at approximately 30,000 km standard, holding geosynchronous orbit over Hawaii." "How are you picking the object up?" "...the borrowed technology sir," replied the voice, showing the first hint of true fear that he had ever heard in it. Not that he could blame the younger man, after all, this was the first time in twenty years that the DEW line and other defenses which had been built based on technology from Earth alone, had been defeated by any of the powers that occasionally visited the planet. Of course, civilians hadn't been allowed to have any knowledge of these "recorded visitations" until recently, and even then only a minor fraction of the number that actually occurred. "Fine," he said, sighing deeply. Clearly this wreck in Hawaii was far more important than he had thought, and he had already ascribed importance to it equal to that which his predecessor's predecessor had put on the Roswell incident. "Do we have any guess as to size and intent?" "Sir, we estimate a craft of approximately 1,000 feet in length, four to five-hundred a beam, and of unknown depth. I would say that it has at least fifty times the volume of anything that we've ever seen before, and it's getting better at deflecting the scans from our borrowed equipment. I give them half an hour and they'll be totally invisible to anything short of the space shuttle crashing into them head on." "All right," he said, "we need to secure the area so that whomever is responsible up there can do whatever they need to with the wreck. If they don't make a move on it in forty eight hours, we'll clear it to area 51, or send it out to be dumped in the Marianas Trench." "...Um, yes sir." the other man said. "What *else* is wrong?" he demanded, knowing full well that this man, at least, never got stressed unless there was a damned good reason for it. "Well, sir. ... Its Agents Mulder and Scully, sir." "What!" he roared, already suspecting what he was about to hear, and not caring that Skinner, that ex-marine and increasingly large pain in the ass, might hear him yelling through the doors that separated their offices. "They've gone missing sir." the other said. "The last time we had them was in Helo about two hours ago, they were getting ready to take a two-person ultra-light....." "Goddamnit!!!!!" roared Cancer man, now knowing that Mulder, whom he *had* protected despite what the foolish young man thought, was headed for either a quick death by gunfire, or a long, slow, and tortuous death at the hands of one of the alien powers that occasionally took people--not including his sister despite what Mulder thought--and used them in experiments that no one should have to live through. "Well, let's start getting stories put together about how they died, etc., we must, minimally, give their families some peace." "Yes Sir, I'd already thought about that, we'll have something cooked up if we need it." "Don't worry, we'll need it, no matter how this thing comes out...." he said quietly and slammed the phone down before the other could hear the sadness in his voice. Monday October 28, 1997 10:15 PM GMT "Landing party to Enterprise," Kirk said into his communicator, "We're down and there don't seem to be any natives of this time in the area. I'll keep you up-to-date on what's going on down here if I can Spock, but there's a storm coming in, and with the subspace interference from the crash, communications may prove difficult." "Understood, sir." replied the Vulcan from the bridge. "We are scanning no activity in your area, although as you know, there was one small aircraft which disappeared from scanners some fifteen minutes ago. Due to interference from the storm and the wreck, exact readings are impossible, however, I believe that the craft landed safely, which may suggest that you will have to deal with an unknown number of curiosity seekers at some point in the future." "Understood," said Kirk, who knew that such things happened when things like this occurred on other worlds, so why not Earth of the "past" as well? "If they come, we'll arrest them and figure out how to get them away from here," he said glibly, in an attempt to cover the fact that he hoped that the storm would keep others away until they could remove the wrecked ship from its current resting place. "Very well, sir," said Spock. "I shall continue monitoring the situation, and will report to you should any of the major groups that we expect to become active in this situation move on your position." "If we're lucky Spock, they won't," said Kirk, snapping his communicator closed before the eyebrow that his comment had doubtless raised could be translated into words. During their conversation, Kirk, Scott, McCoy, and a double handful of security and engineering personnel had spread out hoping to find an obvious way into the largely intact scout vessel. Unfortunately, the external hatches seemed to be closed and as there was still too much residual heat and radiation in the area, their tricorders could not tell them if any of the crew were alive. Monday October 28, 4:20 PM EDT, Somewhere on the "Big" Island of Hawaii. "Well Scully, it's pretty clear that someone's already gotten to the wreck," said Mulder, who was staring at the alien ship with a combination of awe and fear on his face. Although he'd always believed that aliens were real, and had seen some in the past, he'd never seen a ship this close up, and it was definitely a bit unsettling to see just how big, and well-constructed, the things apparently were. "Well Mulder, I think that I'll have to owe you for that dinner if we get back," said Scully, trying a sarcastic comment of her own to break the tension that they both felt. Unfortunately, Mulder was more practiced at it than she was, and her words did little to make either of them feel better. "Since they're already there, we might as well go and stake a claim for the FBI," said Mulder, his excitement at the chance to get real proof of the existence of aliens sweeping aside the fear that he had felt moments earlier. Before she could stop him, Mulder was up and walking toward the man in the navy captain's uniform who appeared to be in charge of the situation. All that Scully could do was move to follow him, and hope that this group of men ... and women!, she realized with a small shock, would be friendlier than many of the people that they had met before when there had been evidence of the existence of aliens there for the taking. "Excuse me sir," said Mulder, who was at least trying to be civil with the man whom he'd approached closely enough to allow easy conversation. "I'm Agent Mulder, FBI, and I'm here to have a look at the crash site." "Agent Mulder," Kirk said quietly, "I'm pleased to finally meet you. Unfortunately, as you know very well, this situation is not any concern of the FBI, as your agency has very little to do with this particular branch of national security. We are with the Naval Investigative Service, and will be holding the site until such time as representatives of the NSA can secure both the site, and this ... object for further study." "Captain ...." "Kirk" "Captain Kirk," Mulder said, his voice already becoming belligerent as he prepared to fight for his right to get access to the evidence that he would need to blow the government's involvement with the aliens wide open, "I have no intention of leaving this area as the FBI has more than sufficient jurisdiction to allow my partner and I the right to remain here." "I see," said Kirk, who knew that his knowledge of the agencies of the United States Government of this time was insufficient to ensure success in keeping the man from causing a lot of trouble. However, there were other methods of ensuring his silence, methods that would unfortunately involve his vessel in the politics and other problems of this time far more deeply than he had hoped would be necessary. He turned away to look for one of his security people, and was more than surprised when an obviously female scream split the air. Meanwhile, Scully had been moving quietly through the undergrowth, hoping to get closer to what even she had to admit was, without doubt, an alien star craft. She made damned sure to stay within eyesight of Mulder, but thought that she might be able to serve their purposes by trying to get access to the ship by stealth, while Mulder tried the blunt approach. As a result of her superior position, she was the only one who saw the carefully camouflaged man who had been assembling a high-powered sniper rifle and who was now taking aim at her partner's chest. She began running toward Mulder and almost forgot to scream a warning to him. Unfortunately for both of them, her cry came moments too late. The crack of the rifle took all of the Enterprise crew by surprise, and Kirk was barely able to throw himself to the ground before Mulder's body, a large and rapidly growing spot of blood on his chest, fell on top of him. Quickly enough, the security team was spreading out, phasers at the ready, hoping to intercept their unknown attacker before he could do any more harm. Kirk shifted out from under Mulder and saw a short, red-haired woman racing toward them both, with McCoy coming in from a different angle. It looked like the redhead would win the impromptu race to save Mulder's life. However, Kirk could see that this "victory" would cost her dearly if the fear that was clearly written on her face was any measure of the emotions that she was feeling as a result of what she had seen. He stepped aside, not wanting to get in either her way, or that of the on-rushing McCoy. "Mulder!" Scully cried again, immediately recognizing that the wound was serious, hoping that it would not be so bad as to prevent them from getting away from the party of men and women who were, even now, moving to try to secure the area. She got no response from her partner, and covered the distance to his side more quickly than she would have believed possible for her short stature. She saw a taller, older man hastening to him as well, and hoped that he wouldn't try to get in her way. She fell to Mulder's side and immediately began tearing away the shirt that was becoming far too wet with blood for her liking. When she saw the wound, she was barely able to keep from breaking down. Fortunately, the bullet hadn't--so far as she could see--struck anything particularly vital, but the massive blood loss, characteristic of a chest wound, would clearly kill him before she could get him to the nearest hospital, whether the other people on the scene interfered with her or not. A shadow fell over the two of them, and her peripheral vision told Scully that the older man whom she had previously seen running toward Mulder was now waving some strange instrument over him, its purpose and effect totally unknown, and in all reality, insignificant to her. His voice, when he finally spoke was concerned, however it held none of the gravity that she felt appropriate to the situation. "Jim, he's in pretty bad shape, but if we can beam him up to the ship, I can get him patched up in time." "Bones, we can't just go around beaming people from this century up to the ship without any thought." replied another voice, which Scully recognized as familiar without giving much thought to its owner. "Jim, he'll die if we don't do something soon. Although the wound isn't life threatening, the blood loss is, and whoever she is, she'll never get him to one of their hospitals before he dies." The two voices receded into the background, as Scully frantically tried to slow the massive bleeding in her partner's chest without the benefit of the bag of tricks that she'd learned to bring along whenever she was in the field with Mulder. While Scully continued to try to save Mulder's life, Kirk and McCoy moved far enough away to ensure privacy for their conversation. "Bones, he's from three hundred years in our past, and if we beam him aboard, then we'll see the ship, and since I'm sure that you didn't read Spock's briefing, I'll tell you that the damage to the time line from *that* would be even more serious than just leaving this wreck here for whomever to discover." "Jim, How do you know that he's supposed to die now?" McCoy demanded, his voice achieving the belligerent tone that Kirk associated with his friend's "Doctor" persona. "How long does he have before you won't be able to do anything?" Kirk asked, reaching for his communicator. "About five minutes, given transit time from the transporter room to sick-bay," said McCoy, who guessed what Kirk was planning, and who hoped that Spock would give him a way to save the life that was, literally, pouring out of the prostrate man some twenty feet from where he stood. "Kirk to Enterprise," "Enterprise, Spock here." "Spock, Unfortunately, our friends in the small aerial vehicle did manage to find the crash site, and one of them has been seriously wounded by a party or parties as yet unknown. I need to know whether we should beam him aboard so that McCoy can treat his injuries." "As I am sure you are aware Admiral, it would be of assistance to know the identity of the injured person," Spock said, his voice at its most neutral. "It's Agent Mulder from the FBI," said Kirk, who was torn between a desire to hear that the man lying before him could die, and the equally fierce desire to avoid having to make a decision that would cost a man his life. "Admiral, it is not necessary to consult our records on this matter, both Agent Mulder, and his partner, Agent Dana Scully are critical to this time line, and will continue to be so for many years into the future." "All right Spock," Kirk said, have Sick bay send medics to the transporter room, and stand by for emergency recall of Dr. McCoy and an injured party." "Understood, sir," Spock said before cutting the connection from his end. "All right, doctor, it's your show, you can beam him up, but he'd damned well better not see any more of the ship than is absolutely necessary." "Don't worry about it, Jim, most of the work can be done while he's sedated. If I'm careful, he'll never know that he was off-planet," said McCoy who was already hastening toward his patient. The Enterprise's CMO moved past Scully, who was still leaning over her partner trying desperately to slow the flood of bright red blood that was pouring out of his chest. McCoy knew, as she could not, that although there had been a nick to the pulmonary circulatory system, and some damage to the lungs, that Mulder's injuries--in and of themselves--were not life threatening. What they *did* agree on, without even having had the chance to speak on the matter, was that Mulder would die of blood loss before his other injuries could do him in. "I'm sorry, Miss, but I'm going to have to take him if his life's going to be saved." McCoy said as he drew level with Scully. "I don't know who you are," Scully said coldly while still working over her dying partner, "but I'm not going to let any of you bastards have him, and he'll be dead before you can do anything anyway." "Well," McCoy said, growing frustrated, but seeing that emotional outbursts wouldn't get him anywhere, "...I don't suppose that you've considered that I may be able to do things that you can't?" "Unless you're a damned good doctor with an operating room within five minutes of here, you're not going to be able to do anything that I can't, since I am a doctor, and *I* don't have access to such a facility." "As a matter of fact," said McCoy, his temper rising with each word, "I *am* a pretty good doctor, and if you'll stop getting in my way, I *can* get him to a surgical facility in a hell of a lot less than five minutes." "How?" Scully asked, her body shaking with a combination of fear and hope. "I'm really not permitted to say," McCoy said, wishing that he could do more to comfort the small woman who was still, desperately, trying to save her friend's life. Her face went from its odd combination of fear and hope to pure anger in a second, and before McCoy, Kirk, or any of the officers who had collected to provide protection and watch the unfolding drama could react, her gun was in her hands and pointing at the doctor's head. "I'd rather let him die than let you bastards experiment on him." she cried, her finger visibly tightening on the trigger. Kirk, who saw Scotty move his hand for his phaser waved him down, knowing that a stun blast from the weapon would not affect the woman before she could shoot the doctor with her archaic weapon. "Look here, little lady," said McCoy, his southern charm turned off and replaced with all of the harshness that people resident of the Southern United States could bring to what they did when they set their minds to it, "I'm not goin' to experiment on him, and if you put that thing away, I may be able to save his life." Scully had noticed the commander of the group wave off someone who had been standing behind her, and began to wonder whether she could trust them with something that she herself hadn't the skill or resources to protect. "I don't trust you at all, "doctor,"" she said, "but I don't think that I have much of a choice." "I'm glad that you're seein' things my way," McCoy said, his attitude becoming less angry and more intense. "But," she said, "I'm coming with you." "You can't," cried McCoy, his frustration and concern over the time that he was losing resurfacing with a rush. "He's my partner," she said quietly, "and the government's tried too many things to make me believe that your intentions are pure." "Jim!" McCoy cried, staring at Kirk, "I can keep him under, but if she comes aboard conscious,...." his voice trailed away, the implications of the statement all-too-clear to all of the personnel there, save Scully. "I don't see that we've got much of a choice, Bones." Kirk replied quietly, "...you know that we can't stun her before she can fire." McCoy sighed, knowing that Kirk was right, and also knowing that the survival of *this* patient was critical to many billions of as-yet unborn federation citizens. "All right," he said, I'll call for beam-up." "What!" Scully said, not understanding what she had heard. "No time to explain," McCoy said, whipping out his communicator and informing the Enterprise that there would now be three to be brought aboard. "Three doctor?" Lt. Rand's voice came back through his communicator. "Yes Lieutenant, *three* to beam aboard, these coordinates." Scully, who had been watching McCoy closely as he spoke with whomever was on the other end of the transmission did not see him touch the small button on the side of the communicator that told Both Lieutenant Rand and Spock that there was more to this situation than just an odd number of people being brought aboard. "Yes, sir." she replied before the transporter's effect caught them, her voice showing none of the tension that had gripped her when she realized what the problem must be. As per standard procedure when a situation on the ground had become unstable, Rand set the transporter for delayed rematerialization until such time as security personnel could get to the transporter room. When the doors burst open some seconds later, she was surprised to see Spock at the head of the security detachment that quickly fanned out to protect both Rand and the medical team that awaited the doctor's return. "Ms. Rand, which pads will be occupied by the doctor and the injured party?" Spock demanded. "Sir, The doctor's on pad one, the injured man is unconscious and is being beamed up from a prone position. He will occupy pads two and three. The third, unknown, person will be on pad four." "Very well, commence rematerialization," Spock said, moving to a position from which he could reach anyone standing on the fourth of the six transporter diodes that made up this room's primary equipment. As soon as she was sure that he had moved into the proper position, Rand ordered the transporter to rematerialize the landing party, and crossed her fingers. The effect of the transporter was far beyond anything that Scully had ever experienced. At first the scene around her had faded into a wash of colors and to a sense of being, in some way, not quite whole. Then a new place began to appear around her, white walled with a console of some kind in front of the raised platform on which she stood along with Mulder, The "doctor," and ... someone else. When she turned her head to see who was standing beside her, she got a quick glimpse of pointed ears, angular eyebrows, and greenish skin before the man's hand clamped onto the junction between her neck and shoulder causing her to lose consciousness before she could get any more impressions of the strange new place to which she had been brought. III. Thursday October 29, 1997 12:15 AM GMT James T. Kirk sat at the head of the briefing table in the E-deck conference room, thinking over the events of the past few hours. All things considered, the situation wasn't as bad as it could be, although, he thought, it could be a damned sight better too. They had found the Vulcan craft and were preparing it for salvage. The horrific weather that had moved into the Hawaiian Island archipelago soon after their arrival on the crash site had kept most of the UFO seekers away, and from what Spock could tell, the American government was doing the rest. However, the two people who *had* managed to get to the site in time were, so far as Enterprise's voluminous records--and Spock's equally capacious memory-- could tell them, the worst possible people to have to deal with in such a situation. Fox Mulder, an agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and agency of the government of the nation-state then known as The United States of America, was the most committed, most highly placed, and most tenacious of all of the people currently trying to figure out whether those on Earth were truly "alone" in the universe as their governments were still trying to convince them. Of course they weren't, but this wasn't, as yet, something that Earth's population was ready to know. Fortunately for the officials forced to keep this secret, Mulder was too "spooky" for his own good. A combination of the cases that he investigated, and his generalized unwillingness to play the political games inherent in all large bureaucracies, kept him from being the terrible threat to current-day planetary security that he might otherwise have been. His partner, Dana Scully, was another matter entirely. The woman was, like her partner, brilliant, determined, a talented investigator, and critical to Earth's near-term future. However, unlike her partner, she was, at least insofar as current-day medical training would allow, scientific, logical, and extremely credible. Unfortunately for his peace of mind, Kirk had both of them aboard the Enterprise. Mulder was still down in sick-bay, recovering from a serious gunshot wound, a process that, when he had called McCoy to get a preliminary report to prepare for this briefing, he was told would take "as long as it takes Jim, and I'd bet that it'll be a while." Scully was sleeping off the effects of one of Spock's more determined nerve pinches, a process that, Kirk knew from personal experience, would take quite some time in itself. McCoy would keep Mulder under until they were ready to send him back, but unless they chose to do the same thing with Scully, they would soon have a class-A problem to deal with, if her reaction to Mulder's injuries was any sign. Not to mention the risk to the time stream that having a conscious woman from the twentieth century wandering about on his ship would pose. He sat back waiting for McCoy to join the rest of the senior staff, knowing that the doctor would not come until he was sure that his patient would survive the tender mercies of the staff physician on duty, no matter that the "staff physician" for this case was Christine Chapel, the "second best doctor I've ever seen," as McCoy had once said. In response to Spock's raised eyebrow, the doctor had immediately covered by snapping that "Well Spock, T'klarn *is* a Vulcan, and a damned good doctor too. She even knows how to handle human patients". As Kirk remembered it, Spock had promised to speak with the woman immediately, given that learning how to handle human patients might be the basis for a method for use with their doctors. However, before he could think back on McCoy's response to the barb, the man in question entered the briefing room, and this meeting, one of the most critical in Federation history, came to order. "Sorry that I'm late, Jim," said McCoy peremptorily as he slipped into his customary chair. "Well, Bones, since you're the cause for the delay, why don't you give your report first." McCoy stretched for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Agent Mulder is in sick-bay, after getting a transfusion to replace the blood lost as a result of his injury. He's suffered a severe wound to the chest, caused by a high-velocity impacter. The bullet tore through his pulmonary artery, and then glanced off of his ribs finally ending up in the right lung, which collapsed shortly after beam-up. Considering the sedation, he'll need at least ten days before I feel ready to release him. It'll take me that long to ensure that scarring and other signs of the wound are sufficiently minimal to give him a better than average chance of passing through current-day medical examinations without any risk of their realizing that he's been injured. Fortunately, he's had a lot of other injuries which will help cover the internal scarring from this one. Only a good doctor with solid knowledge of his medical history will be able to tell that there's something wrong, and I doubt that they'd be able to prove it." "I hate to spend so long in the past, can you speed his recovery along?" "If I could take him out from under sedation it would cut a couple of days off of his recovery time, but according to Spock, we can't risk his becoming conscious. Something about the possible damage to the time stream being "unacceptably great," " said McCoy mimicking the delivery which Spock had used during their lengthy argument in Sick-Bay after Mulder--and therefore McCoy--had come out of surgery. "Are you sure of all of this, Spock?" Kirk demanded, turning sharply to face his first officer. "Admiral, Mr. Mulder is the foremost investigator of what the late twentieth century called unexplained phenomena. As such, he would certainly be interested in proving the existence of aliens, something that he could easily do if he became conscious while aboard. The fact that his sister was, to his knowledge of this time, abducted by aliens will only increase his determination to use the crash of the Vulcan survey vessel, or the existence of this vessel, to force the governments of the time to admit that Earth has already had contact with alien powers." "But Mr. Spock, so far as I knew, the first contact with aliens came in 2045 in the Alpha Centauri system," said Commander Uhura. "Ms. Uhura, that is the accepted history as taught in the Federation's educational system, however, there are records, both on Vulcan and in secured storage on Earth which indicate interaction between the major powers of Earth, and a number of alien powers beginning as early as the late Nineteenth Century." "Why wouldna they ha' declassified that kind of thing by now?" Scotty asked. "Mr. Scott, I am uncertain as to the reasons behind the lack of disclosure on Earth, however, the Vulcan scientific service has continued deep space activities in parallel with Starfleet Command, and some of these activities relate back to evidence collected several centuries ago when Vulcan's current research methodology had not yet been developed. Unfortunately, there is a faction on Vulcan which believes that if this data were to become generally available, that serious damage might be done to Vulcan's current-day diplomatic position in the Federation." "What could be so bad that the Vulcans would choose not to disclose things that happened centuries ago?" wondered Uhura. "Unfortunately, Ms. Uhura, I have never seen the data in question, and so am unable to speculate." "Ladies and Gentlemen, though this is an interesting question, it doesn't bear on our current problems. Obviously we can't leave this time period for at least ten days if we're to cover our tracks here on Earth. Now, Mr. Scott, how long will it take to repair the Vulcan ship so that we can cover the Klingons' tracks on Vulcan?" "Well, Sahr, it'll take a day to get their wee ship up here and inta the shuttle bay so that my engineers can get on ta repairin the ship. I dinna know what the standard crew complement of that kind'a ship is, but it looked like there wasna any breaching of the hull, so I'd expect that they had a fair chance'a surviv'in the crash." "Bones?" "I couldn't get good readings on what was happening in there Jim, the interference was too bad. I think that they're alive, but probably in some kind of trance." "Spock?" "Unknown, Admiral, it is impossible to know what effect the Klingon fire may have had on the vessel's occupants." "Theorize," said Kirk. "Without complete data it is impossible to construct a durable hypothesis. However, I should estimate that all of the passengers survived, as Vulcan survey craft have always been equipped with the best possible personnel protection technology in order to ensure that should an unforeseeable happenstance occur, that the crew could destroy the craft--either before or after escaping the wreckage--before it could be found by the inhabitants of whichever planet was under study. I would, therefore, suggest that it is likely that some or all of the crew have been injured sufficiently to cause unconsciousness, or require immediate use of one of a number of self-restorative techniques. I believe that we may be able to get the crew into stasis before they can inspect our technology, or realize that this vessel is crewed by humans using technology that is not as yet available in this time." "Bones, if Spock's right, can you get the crew into stasis until we can repair their ship?" "It depends on how badly they've been hurt, Jim, but since stasis fields aren't usually dangerous to injured Vulcans, I don't see why not. But if they're not as badly off as Spock thinks, we could have a problem." "Well, Bones ... we'll just have to deal with things as they happen." said Kirk, who fervently hoped that Spock, whose theories were usually right, would hit the mark again. "Since we can't do much about the Vulcan crew until we get them aboard, I think that our top priority needs to be getting that ship off of the surface, and then we can move out beyond the range of current-day scanning technology so that we can focus our efforts on getting the Vulcans home. After that, we'll have to figure out a way to return Mulder and Scully back to Earth in some way that won't affect the time stream, or if we can't avoid effects, we'll need to leave them as few questions, and answers to those questions, as we can. ... Bones, as soon as you're sure of Mulder's condition, I want you to get down to Scully's quarters and put her under. The best thing that we can do...." he stopped, seeing the look on the doctor's face. "Uh, Jim, we've got a problem," said McCoy, his discomfort clear. "Yes, Bones?" "I took a scan of Scully, more-or-less incidentally while I was getting my first look at Mulder. Her blood chemistry has been rather seriously altered, and all of the long-term depressants that I have may be lethal to her after interacting with what's already in her system. It'll take at least thirty-six hours for me to come up with an acceptable substitute. I think that we're going to have to wait to tranquilize her until then." "Spock, can you keep her under using Vulcan methods?" "Unfortunately, the Vulcan trances and other methods of maintaining unconsciousness for that length of time are ineffective on humans." "So, gentlemen, what you're saying is that we have no choice but to allow her to regain consciousness at whatever point Mr. Spock's original nerve pinch wears off?" The nods from Spock and McCoy were *not* what Kirk had wanted to see. "All right then, we're either going to have to keep her in her quarters, something that can be easily arranged, or we're going to have to allow her to move about the ship and figure out a way to erase her memory or put her back *before* all of this happened." "Admiral, I believe that we must dismiss the third group of possibilities, as we have no transporter coordinates that would allow us to place her back into a form of herself which had not seen the Vulcan survey craft." "Bones, can you erase her memory if that becomes necessary?" "Yes Jim, but she'll resist the process, and we'll have to figure out a way around that, since she'll have to be conscious at the beginning of the procedure." "Well, Bones, we'll just have to come up with something when the time comes. For the moment, I want someone to go down to her quarters and label the door, head, and anything else that you think is relevant, and make sure to leave her a hard copy note explaining the basic computer functions." After a moment's thought, Kirk realized that Scully might feel more comfortable if she were to come to consciousness with a woman in her quarters, should the labeling process not be completed before she came out of the effects of Spock's nerve pinch. "Commander Uhura, you've got the labeling duty, and you'll be her contact until such time as I can meet with her to see what can be done about trying to convince her to follow ship's rules, despite whatever mistrust of us she may have." "Aye Sir," replied Uhura from her place near the foot of the table. With this, Kirk waved her out of the room, and then turned back to McCoy, who clearly had something to say. "Jim, I'd like to get back to have a look at my patient, but before I go, I think that Spock should tell you something about these two people that he finds, even for him, unusually "fascinating,"" said McCoy. "Spock?" "Admiral, I believe that it would have been better had Dr. McCoy not spoken of this matter as of yet, however, as he has preempted my advice, I will briefly note that during my physical contact with Agent Scully, I sensed ... a kind of mental bond between her and Agent Mulder. It appears to be far weaker than those characteristic of Vulcans, however, there are very few known cases of mental connections between humans, making the relationship between the agents particularly interesting from sociological, psychological, and biological standpoints. I do not intend to look into the matter, but have added the information into the Federation's psychological data on both agents, as well as preparing a report to the Vulcan Academy of Sciences should any of their descendants choose to discuss their ancestors' relationship so far as it can be known through several generations of family interpretation and lore." "That Reminds me," McCoy said. "Mulder got a pretty good look at the Vulcan ship before he was shot, I've given him some drugs that will scramble his memory reasonably well, so that he'll think that he was having some kind of hallucination. These drugs aren't blockers, so I'm sure that someone with the right drugs and techniques on Earth *could* descramble his memory and let him see what really happened, if he pushed hard enough. "I see," Kirk said. "Assuming that we wipe Agent Scully's memory, that may not be much of a problem, Bones. For the moment, leave things as you have, and unless we come up with something better than a memory wipe, we'll just have to be sure to push the block to a point well before contact was made. I'd think that if she doesn't remember being there, that'll probably cause Mulder to doubt whatever he remembers, with or without help, to some degree or other. Hopefully that'll be enough to keep him from investigating too carefully. Even if he does, if we all do our jobs correctly, he'll have nothing to prove his claims, and as our records suggest that aliens were something of an ... obsession for him, his report will, doubtless, be dismissed without support from Agent Scully." "Right," McCoy said, knowing that there really wasn't any better answer at the moment. "All right," Kirk said, before turning his attention back to the rest of his officers. "Before we return to stations, I want your opinions on whether we should simply keep Ms. Scully confined to her quarters, or whether you feel that we can allow her to move about the ship." "Admeeral, I think that it vould be better to allow her to move around, since she hasn't committed a crime, and a knowledge of the technology in her quarters is more than enough to affect history should vee be unable to wipe her memory," said Chekhov. "I Agree with Pavel, sir," said Sulu, "Also, she's much likelier to allow us to change her memory if we show some trust in her." "I think they're right, Jim," said McCoy, "She doesn't deserve what's happened to her, and I'd say that their relationship is incredibly close. In fact, it reminds me a lot of very close family members. If someone had been tryin' to take JoAnna from me, I'd probably have held a phaser on them, too." "Spock?" Kirk said seeing that the Vulcan had chosen to remain silent. "Admiral, I am not qualified to consider the psychological factors, however, I agree that it seems likely that we will have to show some level of trust in her before she will extend the courtesy to us. However, I believe that a monitor of some type would be a wise precaution, both for her and for the ship, as there are places which might prove quite hazardous for someone not initiated in the realities of starship technology." "I think a bracelet would be a sensible precaution, Scotty, I assume that you'll be needing to get back to engineering to get the salvage crews ready?" "Aye Sir, I should be workin' on thot." "Before you get to work on the salvage operation, make up something that'll allow us to track her, and have one of your staff take it by her quarters. I'll make sure that Uhura knows to tell her to wear it while she's moving about the ship." "Aye Sir." "Anything else?" The profound silence in the room was Kirk's reply, and as soon as it was clear that everything that could be done had been, Enterprise's officers hastened to begin the complex set of tasks that had to be performed in order to remove a ten thousand ton craft from the surface of a planet not yet ready for the knowledge of its existence. Thursday October 29, 5:37 AM GMT The first thing that Dana Scully knew on her return to consciousness was that she had a tremendous headache. She remembered all-too-clearly the events that had brought her to wherever she now lay. Her fear for Mulder was nearly overwhelming, even greater than that which she had for herself. As her awareness returned, she realized that she was in a dark room, with a window that looked out onto a very dark night. She also quickly realized that she was not restrained, which gave her some small sense of hope. As soon as she sat up, the lights in the room--no, rooms---came on, and she saw that she was in a large and comfortable suite with at least two rooms and a good deal of furniture. She also realized that there was no obvious mechanism keeping her from breaking the window, save for the extreme thickness of whatever it was made of. However, before she could do more, she saw that there was some kind of message on the fold-out monitor screen that sat on the desk. She rose from the bed in which she had been laid, possibly by the alien with the ears, After sitting down before the monitor she read the brief message awaiting her there. Agent Scully, you are in guest quarters aboard the United Star Ship Enterprise, a vessel representing the United Federation of Planets. You are free to move about the ship, however for your safety, and for ours, we ask you to wear the security monitor which has been left outside your door. There are places aboard ship that could prove hazardous to someone without null-G training, or without protective clothing. All crew members have been given your general description, and will redirect you if possible, but their duties may keep them from seeing you and may not be able to protect you--or themselves--if they don't see you in time. The ship's computer accepts both keyboard and voice commands, so should you require directions to or from a certain place, you need simply go to the nearest com panel and say Computer, direct me to -- and whichever point you may wish to reach. Agent Mulder is in Sick bay, and recovering, however, he will remain unconscious until we can return you to Earth. Dr. McCoy is expecting you, and will consult with you concerning what has been done for him, and his expected recovery. Your quarters are equipped with a store of clothing which should fit you in the closet to the left of the desk, near the foot of the bed. The head is located in the right-hand wall of your bedroom, directly to the right of the entrance to the living and eating area. Should you need further assistance, you may call on Commander Uhura: Communications officer, or Drs. McCoy and Chapel. After she'd read the note, Scully wasn't sure what to think. She was obviously being held somewhere, and her captors weren't going to release her for some period of time. It was now a fully instinctive paranoia that led her to mistrust the people holding her, but still, had they not done something for Mulder, he would certainly have died. She wouldn't take their word concerning his health until she could see him herself, but it was true that they were willing to let her see him, and apparently, let her have a limited sense of freedom in moving around ... wherever she was... It went without saying that she wouldn't wear the security monitor, since any such item would allow them to track her movements, and her first--and only--goal, had to be getting herself and Mulder away from this place. The possibility that her captors, whose names at least seemed to bear an odd resemblance to those of the characters of the old Star Trek series, were trying, insofar as they were able, to help her never entered her mind. IV Friday October 30, 1997 3:14 AM GMT "Why not?" "Well, Sahr, the sun'll still be up in that part of the planet at this time, and I'm thinkin' that it'll be much better ta' wait for another little bit before we get inta the job." "Scotty, we'll have to deal with planetary defense sensors and other interference no matter what time we tractor the ship in, so why wait?" "Well, Sahr, since we're draggin' the ship many kilometers out ta' sea, before we bring it up to our altitude, I think that we'd be better off ta' wait until it's dark, so that if there are any civilians tryin' to watch from long range, they'll have a harder time seein' what we're doin'." "Spock?," Kirk said, turning to his first officer, who, as7 usual in such situations, had been listening to Scott's words without the level of intrusiveness that McCoy would have employed had Agent Scully not been keeping him busy explaining her partner's condition and treatment to her. "Sir, I believe that Mr. Scott is correct in his assessment of the benefit of delay. The nation-state which controls the Hawaiian Archipelago at this time has effectively sealed the site off, and their agents appear to be waiting for action, either from the craft itself, or from some agency, either terrestrial or otherwise, which might claim it. I have been monitoring their communications activity, and believe that they have orders to wait another thirty-six old-standard hours before dismantling and then scuttling the craft in the Marianas Trench. It is, therefore, safe to assume that the government of the United States does not want information on the existence of the survey craft to be released. However, the attitudes and actions of other groups are far more difficult to predict, and our activities will be easily observed in daylight." "I see," said Kirk, realizing that if one wanted to keep something hidden from sight, that the nearly seven miles of water in the undersea canyon in the Central Pacific Basin would do the job nicely. Had he been working for the group trying to conceal alien involvement on Earth, he would have used a similar hiding place. It was also true that his engineer and first officer were justified in their concern over the need for darkness to shroud the first stages of the retrieval operation. "You're certain that they've got the site cordoned off?" "Quite sure, Admiral," Spock said. "The only major difficulty at this point is that none of the atmospheric routes that we will be forced to use have been cleared of possible civilians outside of the restricted zone. I would suggest that we attempt to contact the officials in charge of the operation, however I am, as yet, still uncertain of their identities or location. As soon as I have the information, I will ensure that it comes to your attention." "Fine, Spock," said Kirk before turning back to the intercom. "Scotty, we will delay recovery operations for at least four hours, Mr. Spock is trying to find the people in charge of the security operation down there, and we'll need to get them to do what they can to keep civilian activity in the area to a minimum." "Aye Sahr, We'll just be waitin' for your orders," Scott said before the connection closed. Dana Scully was more furious than she had ever been, and as often happened in such situations, she knew that most of her anger came directly from the overwhelming sense of fear and confusion that she was facing as a result of the predicament that her partner's impetuous actions had landed them in. She had been watching Mulder for the past eighteen hours, in between terrific arguments with the man who claimed to be the chief surgeon of the "Starship Enterprise". How stupid did they think she was, anyway? The man even called himself Leonard McCoy. She, like most Americans, had seen the old Star Trek series--several times--and although it had been far more sexist than the newer series were, she recognized that unlike all of the newer series in the universe, the old series had, in many ways, a message that had been less tainted by politics than the newer series, all of which had become, to some degree, "PC Trek," as their critics often said. She couldn't believe that any agency would consider her stupid enough to fall for this charade. However, Mulder was recovering far more rapidly than he would have in a traditional hospital, and the technology that she had seen was representative of capabilities far ahead of even those which Mulder believed that the "Grays" had. Everything from the vocally controlled computer to the scanning equipment that showed Mulder's condition without the use of any physical probes was *very* suggestive of technology that her logical mind told her could not belong to the consortium, or the allies which Mulder attributed to it. Further, although she had seen some beings that were clearly not of earth, she hadn't seen anything that looked like Mulder's Reticulans. Satisfied for the moment that Mulder was, if not all right, at least moving in that direction, she decided to explore a bit in hopes of finding an escape route that she could use when Mulder had recovered. "Admiral, I have identified the locations of both the site commander, and his senior official in charge in the Washington DC. area. Which person should we contact?" "Contact the man in Washington, tell him that someone will be in his office in twenty minutes to discuss the disposition of the alien craft now in Hawaii." "Aye Sir," chorused Spock and Uhura as information was transferred, and a piece of electronic mail dropped into Cancer man's supposedly secured mailbox. Thursday October 29, 10:24 PM EDT Office of Cancer man His head snapped around as he heard the chime of an incoming mail message on the computer that was used for communication within the consortium alone. They had, long ago, built a planetary system whose efficiency and reliability put the internet--before the fools at uu.net had permitted it to be opened to corporate activity--to shame. No one could break in, because there was no link with the outside internet, and no way for satellite transmissions to be initiated since the whole thing was based on land lines. However, as he looked at the headers on the message, he could have no doubt that the message did not originate from anyone with access to their network. All he could do was wait for the alien "landing party" to come and discuss whatever it was that they were planning to do with their ship. Their references to "salvage" confused him, as such an operation would be damned near impossible to do without a lot of help from the Consortium, as the "Reticulans" or "Vegans" as he knew them to be, didn't have the technology to move such a large object from their ships. In fact, he wasn't even sure that it *was* one of theirs, as the shape, provenance and other characteristics were all wrong. However, the Vegans had told his predecessor's predecessor that they were the only spacefaring power in this part of the galaxy, and as yet, no evidence had appeared that disproved their claim to regional hygemony ... until now. He would have to wait to get a feel for the situation, and go from there. Friday October 30, 1997 3:38 AM GMT James T. Kirk was more than nervous as he thought about what he was about to do. He was preparing to send Spock and an all-Vulcan landing party to Earth of the late Twentieth Century. By doing so, he would, certainly, add to the knowledge available to officials on Earth concerning the galaxy around them. Obviously, the Vegans had already interfered, and for all he knew, the Vulcans might have as well, but if they had, there was no evidence. Admittedly their presumptive contact had, in this time and for years after, been incredibly good at hiding the true extent of alien influence on Earth. However, additions to his, or anyone else's knowledge of the galaxy posed problems that, given any other choice, Kirk would have avoided. He wished that he didn't have to send anyone at all, but he knew that it was better to have Spock deal with this matter as he knew more about the combination of Vulcan policy, and Earth history than anyone else, and would act out of logic rather than fear of any consequences of his actions. Another reason to send an all-alien landing party was the simple fact that humans couldn't go down there because they didn't have access to the necessary technology as yet, and so their presence would constitute an unacceptable contamination of the time stream. "Admiral, the landing party is ready for transport," said Spock as his team entered the transporter room. "Fine, Spock. Take care and don't tell him any more than you have to." "Of course, sir." With this, Kirk moved to the main transporter console and began the process of sending five Vulcans to a small, smoky office in Washington DC. Thursday October 29, 1997 10:40 PM EDT Office of Cancer man He watched with interest, and then trepidation as five columns of light flared in front of his desk. In only a few seconds, an equal number of beings, quite humanoid in general form, though with minor differences, were standing where the transportation device had placed them. Clearly their teleportation technology was superior to that of those with whom he had been unfortunate enough to have to deal for the past four decades. Without further delay, one of the beings stepped forward and Earth's first contact with someone born on the planet Vulcan occurred. "I am Spock, commanding this landing party and second-in-command of the rescue mission currently in orbit of your planet. Our preparations for salvage of the survey vessel currently on the Island of Hawaii in the Mid-Pacific Basin are proceeding as planned, however, we need to coordinate efforts in order to ensure that undue evidence of alien activity on and around your world does not fall into the hands of the general public." "Why does it matter to you?" Cancer man demanded, more than a little suspicious of a group of aliens commanded by a man whose name was exactly the same as that of the first officer of the original starship Enterprise, whose adventures had brought Paramount Pictures Corp billions in profits over the last thirty years. For all he knew, this was a warning by one of the competing "technology salvage" groups that they had a new advantage which he would have to counter. "Because undue knowledge of the the true extent of alien influence on your world could result in the disruption of your societal norms, which is a risk that we are unwilling to take at this time. As your group has similar goals, we felt it logical to request your assistance in carrying out our mission." Cancer man didn't quite know how to take this. These beings, whether they be aliens or no, were clearly in possession of technology far in advance of that available to the Reticulans/Vegans. It seemed almost impossible to believe that had any of the other shadow groups focused on the salvage of alien technology found anything of this class, that they would have remained silent on the matter. Either they would have used it to advantage in the never-ceasing power struggles which, along with Mulder and Scully, were giving him ulcers, or there would have been some word from one of the agents whom he had planted in each of the competing groups. So, despite the risk to his position, and that of the consortium in general, he quickly decided that he had no choice but to cooperate to some extent at least. "Fine," he said. "What do you need from me?" The plan was made quickly, the basics not being that much different from many other operations which had been carried out to sanitize crash sites over the past twenty years. However, both Spock and Cancer man knew that there was one other issue which had to be dealt with, a leak which if not plugged would destroy Cancer man's life's work, and--though the human could not know it--quite possibly, Spock. "Do you have agents Mulder and Scully?" he asked, deciding that if these people were skilled enough to have superior teleportation technology, that they would probably be able to determine the purpose of FBI identification without difficulty. "Yes," Spock replied. "Due to circumstances which we are not free to discuss, it is essential that they be returned, and it will be necessary to ensure that they do not remember their experience aboard our vessel. I leave the making of the arrangements for their return to you, with the understanding that they must never be questioned concerning their experiences, as any inquiries that you make could result in the destruction of your civilization," he said, knowing that although threats were illogical, the logic of the situation was inescapable, and could be used to effect with the human sitting before him. "You know that I can't just let them return to their lives without getting any information that I can on their experiences, it's part of my job." "Your duties appear to be confined to ensuring your world's safety from non-terrestrial invasion or coercion. Should you press this issue, there can be little doubt that you will be putting your world at risk from your current ... benefactors. They are only marginally aware of my homeworld, but are determined to learn more about our civilization and its technology. Should you attempt to get information from them, you will draw attention to this matter, and could change the circumstances which currently protect your world from interference more serious than it already faces." Cancer man thought over this statement for a moment, realizing that he had been told that these aliens were not interested in the resources that his world could--and had been forced to---provide to the Vegans. Their interest was founded on something else, and he decided that though it was important, the clear warning that he was being given had to be heeded, whether his instincts about what he was being told were right or not. "Understood," he said quietly, while reaching for another Morley. "However, you must wipe their memories, as we can't do so without our benefactors' knowledge." "Very well," Spock replied, knowing that what he had been forced to agree to would be difficult, both morally and practically. "I must also demand that if there are any persons who might cause uncontrollable leaks concerning this situation, that they be silenced through non-lethal meens." It didn't take long for Cancer man to understand the import of this demand. If anyone suddenly disappeared, never to return, it might draw undue attention to his group, or to the circumstances surrounding the disappearance of either that person, or Agents Mulder and Scully. Attention that, if it drew in the Vegans, would pose a terrible threat to planetary security. "You know that it will be difficult," he said, fishing for any help that he might get from these enegmatic aliens. "Yes, I am fully aware of the difficulty of your task. However, as you know, leaks could prove disastrous for both yourself and your world," Spock replied. "I understand," Cancer man replied, already thinking of A. D. Skinner, whose 'right to know' as Mulder and Scully's direct supervisor would prove to be a major problem unless handled with extreme care. "You will be contacted when we are able to return agents Mulder and Scully," the alien commander said before touching a small flat unit on his belt and disappearing in the flaring column of light in which he had appeared only fifteen minutes before. The first eighteen hours of the salvage operation had gone well, the only problem being a small crisis that had occurred when it was remembered that a large patch of burned forest surrounded the crash site. Fortunately, Mr. Scott had shown his typical efficiency in such matters, and had found a small pocket of magma that could, with only minimal help from Enterprise' phasers, be used to cover the area in a thick slab of newly extruded rock. James Kirk, sitting in the command chair on his ship's bridge was beginning to relax, something that he feared more than anything which could befall him, as he knew that these periods of false peace were usually followed by disaster. After her exploration of the structure where they were being held, Scully had to admit that there was some tiny chance that they were truly aboard a starship with incredible technology, and she was certainly convinced of the existence of alien life. In the course of her movements about the ship, she had seen beings with tentacles, beings that appeared to be amorphous clouds, beings that were, so far as she could tell, made of rock, and human-like beings with skins tinted green and blue, and other human-like beings with huge snout-like noses. It was obvious that whether these beings were allied with the shadows or not, they were a truly diverse bunch, and she had to admit that though not perfect, the resemblance to various of the aliens portrayed in Paramount Pictures' Star Trek universe was, frankly, unsettling. If this were a hoax, it was the most complex one ever tried on either Mulder or herself. If this ship was 'real', she was clearly going to have to rethink her world-view in the very near future. She finally found herself in a spacious compartment, with wide transparent windows which gave a commanding view of an enormous cigar-shaped structure backgrounded by a blue planet which she finally realized was Earth as seen from extremely high orbit. The view was truly impressive and she knew that, assuming no monitoring implants, it was most likely real. The reality of her situation--being trapped aboard a craft with a broad diversity of aliens in its crew--was still too much for her rational, fear-shrouded mind to accept, so she simply sat there, trying to figure out a way to explain what she had seen that would fit into her old way of thinking. Spock's head shot up, the surprise and fear clear for Kirk to see, even if the rest of his crew remained oblivious to the Vulcan's uncharacteristic display of emotion. "Admiral, I have a high-powered transmission directed from this system's asteroid belt toward open space. Provenance and ultimate recipient unknown." "Red alert!" cried Kirk, his voice breaking the silence that gripped the bridge at the first officer's announcement. "Uhura, can you decode the transmission?" he demanded, rising to stand behind his communications officer. "I'm on it," she said. After a short pause, she turned to Kirk, ready to give her report. "I think that the transmission is a compilation of data acquired by a number of passive sensor stations spread throughout the asteroid belt." "Have they gotten any solid data on us?" "No," she replied. "However, I don't know if there might be active sensors that might be programmed to scan near-earth space at some interval." "Spock?" "Without using our active sensors, I can make no conclusions concerning Ms. Uhura's hypothesis. However, I believe that it is logical to assume that such stations exist until we can develop definitive proof to the contrary." "Understood," Kirk said quietly. "All right, I need suggestions concerning the best way to get that Vulcan ship close enough to us to take it aboard and get it out of the system so that we can make repairs without adding to our risk of detection by whatever sensors are out there. As soon as that's done, we will depart the system." "How Sair?" asked Chekhov. "There isn't enough in-system debris to hide passive scanners from us if we depart the system at ninety degrees to the ecliptic, Mr. Chekhov. As soon as we have the ship secured we'll depart as quickly as Mr. Spock believes is possible without triggering the passive sensor field." "Sir, I think that it vould be vise to engage silent running procedures as soon as ve have the wulcan wessel." Chekhov said, while beginning the tedious work of plotting a course that would keep the ship away from as much of the in-system matter as possible. "Ve should keep our sensor profile down if ve're going to awoid their scanners." "Good idea, Mr. Chekhov, ... Bridge to Engineering, ... Mr. Scott, can we engage silent running procedures now and maintain the tractor beam as our only external expenditure of ship's power?" "Nay Sahr," replied Scott. "We must maintain the navigational deflectors if we're to avoid runnin' inta the junk that these people have floatin' about in their orbital space. However, I think that we could hold shield power down ta'bout five percent o' maximum which would be almost as good. Since it doesna leak much energy, the tractor'll nay show up vera well on passive scanners, so we should be able ta' engage silent running in a few minutes. But Sahr, I should point out that those scanners that we've been dealin' with from the surface will be able to cut through our shields at that level." "I see," Kirk replied. "Mr. Spock, do you have any ideas?" "Admiral, after our return from the planet's surface, there have been very few attempts to breach our shields, I believe that the factions that control the technology have decided to desist in their attempts to learn more about us." "That'll have to do for the moment, but I want two people on the scanners at all times in case our friends down there decide to try to scan us while the shields are weakened," said Kirk, barely aware of Spock's acknowledgement of his order. "Scotty, I want you to prepare to engage silent running procedures as soon as possible, but be sure to have enough power available to bring our shields back up to current levels should Mr. Spock's team catch anyone trying to punch a scan through our shields." "Aye Sahr," Scotty replied. "We'll nay ha' any problem with thot kind of preparedness, and I'll ha' the ship ready for the change in status in about five minutes." "Spock, will we suffer any obvious losses in performance beyond having to double bunk a few crew members and close the observation decks?" Kirk asked, still not fully familiar with the ship's operating procedures under this unusual regime which had been instituted while he still held his desk job at Starfleet Headquarters. "No, sir. However, despite Mr. Scott's confidence in his energy leakage figures, I believe that we may find it prudent to cut tractor power by fifty percent in order to further reduce our risk of detection." "Will that add to our time window?" Kirk asked. "Yes sir, however, I believe that the delay will not be sufficient to overcome the benefit to us of reducing tractor output." "I want you to discuss this with Mr. Scott first, remembering that we have to be able to respond immediately should we be scanned. However, if he agrees, you may proceed." "Understood." * * * Meanwhile, Scully had, for the first time in nearly thirty hours, fallen asleep on the bench which she occupied. The shock of dealing with Mulder's unexpected wake-up, the trip to the "Big Island" and all that had happened since would have been enough to seriously tax anyone. Despite all of the training in dealing without sleep that medical school had given her, such abilities had to be nurtured to be maintained, and although difficult, her life over the past five years had been nothing compared to the hell that they'd put her through in medical school. So, when the ship's klaxons went off, and the announcement to clear all outer portions of the hull in five minutes came over the PA system, it took her exhausted body much of that precious time to wake sufficiently to bring her back to full consciousness. More time was lost while she decided that whether she was being tricked or not, it might be a good idea to head back toward the medical bay where Mulder was being kept. By the time she found the exit, and passed through it, the five minutes were up, and blast doors suddenly closed across the corridor in which she was walking, effectively trapping her between heavy layers of impenetrable metal. Almost before the fact that she was trapped could register, she felt the temperature of the air drop precipitously, and realized that if she didn't get out of there soon, that she might die of exposure. Her inherent paranoia was the cause for her delay in contacting the bridge for help while she reviewed the facts of her current situation. Her mistrust was balanced by the knowledge that her captors hadn't forced her to wear the security bracelet that she had found in her quarters, and of course, they were trying to keep Mulder alive. Whether this was a good or bad thing, she didn't know, but she did know that she couldn't escape her current predicament without their help. Whether friendly or not, she knew that they had Mulder, and that she wasn't going to leave him alone in their hands. "Admiral, I have a com from the corridor outside of the after observation deck," came Lt. Commander Uhura's quiet call from behind Kirk. "What?" he demanded, swinging his chair around to look at her. "There shouldn't be anyone in those corridors now, the evacuation signal went out more than five minutes ago." "Sir," Uhura said hesitatingly, "...I think it might be the woman from the past." Kirk's hand smacked down on his chair's com panel as he said "Kirk here." "This is Agent Scully from the FBI, I'm trapped in a corridor outside one of your observation decks." replied the voice on the comlink. "Agent Scully," Kirk said, "We ordered an evacuation of the outer compartments some six minutes ago, and I'd really like to know what the devil you thought you were doing ignoring the announcement." "Unfortunately, I slept through it," she replied, a clear bite in her voice. "And now if you don't hurry up and get me out of here, I'm going to freeze." "Sir," Spock said quietly, "She is not wearing her security transponder, which will make a beam-out impossible. It will take some time to override the individual security lock. I have already dispatched a medical team and security and engineering teams to the area in order to expedite the process of releasing Ms. Scully." "Fine," said Kirk. "Agent Scully, you'll have to hold on for a few minutes, as the computer can't recognize you as a member of the crew, and so won't open the doors to allow you to leave the air lock." "Why not?!?" "You aren't wearing your monitor," Kirk replied. "I see," she replied, the mistrust and increasing effects of the cold becoming clear in her voice. The minutes dragged by slowly for Scully, who was in constant contact with the bridge staff, who were trying to keep her conscious while the various teams worked on opening the heavy blast doors. However, before they could override the special lock down procedures and protocols for silent running, she felt consciousness slipping away. The last conscious thought she had before slipping into hypothermia induced unconsciousness was the hope that these people would release Mulder and let him continue his search for his sister. V. Saturday October 31, 1997 8:28 AM GMT "Well, young lady, I'm glad to see that you're finally awake," a voice said somewhere near Scully's head. When Scully returned to consciousness, she found herself in a hospital-like room, complete with a lot of very strange equipment surrounding her bed. Fortunately, before the strength of the fear at being held in a strange place that, in some ways, reminded her of what little she could remember from her abduction could overwhelm her, she realized that she must be in the Enterprise's sick-bay. Her return to full awareness of her surroundings gave her an initial sense of calmness that was immediately replaced by terror. The fear resulted from her realization that her injuries had forced her to lose what little control she had of the situation to these strange people, who were in so many ways familiar, yet clearly not just actors on an old television show. "What happened?" she demanded of the man who claimed to be Dr. McCoy. "You nearly froze in the corridor outside of the aft observation deck when they shut down life support to the outer areas of the ship," he replied, his manner open and friendly, just as it had been when she had been here checking on Mulder. The thought of her partner caused yet another spasm of terror to strike her, a fear strengthened by the realization that she was now unable to protect him as well, and could do nothing to find an escape route for some time to come. Her redoubled fears caused her to be even harsher with the doctor than she might otherwise have been. "What have you done with Mulder?!" she demanded after looking about the small ward and seeing that he was *not* there. "We've got him in a private recovery room," McCoy replied, not surprised that she might be worried for her friend and partner. "I want to see him." she said, maneuvering to get out of bed. "You're not ready to be up and about yet, your temperature's still down a bit, and your muscles aren't ready for ...." McCoy said before rushing forward to catch her before she could fall and hit her head on one of the pieces of equipment that stood in a ring around her bed. "I *told* you that you weren't ready to get up yet," McCoy said, maneuvering her back down onto the bed. "I *am* going to see him, even if I have to crawl." Scully gritted, her mistrust of the people around her fanning her determination to check on the man who had become her closest friend, and first confidant over the past five years. "If you're that determined, I can get someone to wheel you into his room for a few minutes, but you really need to stay in the stabilization fields for a while longer before you start moving around too much." "Fine," she said, "take me to Mulder, and then I'll come back and rest for a while." McCoy, who was a sufficiently good "old country doctor" to know when arguing with an intractible patient would do more harm than good, called for Christine Chapel, his second-in-command and most trusted colleague. After a brief argument, which Chapel finally conceded when McCoy told her that "Agent Scully makes that pointy-eared menace look reasonable," Chapel began the process of readying Scully's bed for the move to Mulder's room. When they had moved her into Mulder's section of sick-bay, Scully was more than a little relieved to see the obvious progress that he was making in his recovery from the nearly fatal wound which he had suffered some three days earlier. Despite his continued unconscious state, it was clear that his body was mending the terrible damage done to it by the attempted assassination. She could see that had he been allowed to return to consciousness, he would have already been causing the Enterprise medical staff even more trouble than she had. When a young technician entered, and began preparing to move her back to her room, Scully decided that she really didn't want to leave Mulder totally unprotected in this strange environment. "Would there be any problem with just moving me in here full-time so that I can keep an eye on him?" she asked of the young woman who was disconnecting her bed from ship's power. "I don't know, but I'll ask Dr. McCoy for you if you like," she replied. "Yes, please," Scully said, only now realizing how important McCoy's response to this request would be to her willingness to consider trusting, if only marginally, the ship's surgeon. McCoy had been expecting this request, and fully aware of the implications of not granting it, was happy to do so. "Ms. Scully, I'm sorry that I didn't think to put you in here in the first place," he said, as he entered the room. "I should've thought of it earlier, considering that you spent nearly eighteen hours down here raisin' hell for my staff," he said with a smile. "Thank you, Dr," Scully said, utterly relieved to know that these people wouldn't stand in the way of her at least watching over--even if she couldn't actually treat--her partner and closest friend. "No problem." McCoy said. "Before you get too comfortable, I should tell you that the Admiral wants to see you on the bridge in about two hours, we're breaking orbit in order to complete repairs on the ship that we were sent here to recover and return to its rightful owners." "What good will it do for me to be on your bridge then?" Scully asked, more than slightly suspicious of both the Dr. and his commanding officer. "I think that he's hoping to gain your trust a bit by showing you why we're here." "Well, Dr. Considering that you're the ones in control, that Agent Mulder and I have been tricked and experimented on by the government before, and that you clearly feel contempt for us by trying to act like characters on a 1960s TV show, I'd say that in this case it'll take a lot more than sweet talk and displays of your technology to get me to trust you." When she realized just what she'd said, Scully's mouth snapped closed, the fear that she might have given away too much clear for McCoy to see on her face. "TV show, government experiments, what are you talking about?" McCoy demanded, utterly mystified by what he'd just heard. In spite of the niggling doubt that he truly didn't know what she was talking about, Scully chose not to respond to his questions. Captain's log: Old Earth Date October 31, 1997: James T. Kirk commanding USS Enterprise recording. We have just completed the process of bringing the Vulcan scout craft aboard, and are preparing to leave orbit so that we may give the Vulcans some assistance on their journey home. This is important for two reasons. Firstly, as best we can tell from scans of the ship's interior, it was preparing for departure when the Klingons fired upon it, which means that it is necessary for us to ferry them part way back to Vulcan if they are to arrive there on schedule. Secondly, it will be far less risky to both this vessel, and the people of present-day Earth if we are far enough away from the planet to ensure that the sensors which the Vegans have set up in the system are given as little opportunity as possible to make an active scan of our vessel. The consequences of such an event would be, in Spock's word, incalculable. Therefore, we will depart Earth space immediately, and set a course for Vulcan. After releasing the Vulcan craft, we will, unfortunately, have to go back to Earth in order to return agents Mulder and Scully of the present-day Federal Bureau of Investigation before we can go back to the Twenty-third Century. We can only hope that Mr. Spock's contact will keep his word concerning a plan for their return, and more importantly, realize the risk of trying to erase the memory blocks that Dr. McCoy intends to set up before their release. Had he known that the good doctor would have chosen that exact moment to bring Scully to the bridge, James T. Kirk would have waited to record this part of the log. However, he did not know until McCoy's muttered expletive and Scully's shocked gasp told him that they were on the bridge, and had heard at least some of what he had said. "Bones," Kirk said, swinging his chair around to look at the two of them. "Yeah Jim," McCoy said. "How much did you get of that?" "Enough," Scully snapped, dividing her glare between the two men. "Ms. Scully," Kirk said, his best "negotiating-with-unreasonable-women-or-computers-who-have-something-that-he-wants" look fully in place, "It probably isn't what you're thinking." "I'm sure that it isn't," she replied, "so I'm more than happy to hear what you think "it" is." "You already know most of this, although I have the feeling that you don't believe it." Kirk said, while trying to organize his thoughts. "We are here to return a Vulcan craft, which was attacked by a vessel of the Klingon Empire which is an enemy of the United Federation of Planets. In about a century, Earth, along with a number of other worlds, will found this interstellar alliance, because a number of worlds,--including Earth--will have developed to the point at which interstellar communication and travel have become possible. These worlds will realize that resource sharing, trade, and mutual defense treaties are necessary if they are to continue to coexist peacefully. Unfortunately, some races, for example the Klingons, will be threatened by the existence of the Federation and will attempt to use force to strip resources away from it. These actions will result in hostilities which have continued to our present, which is late in what you would think of as the Twenty-Third Century. The Klingons have not been able to best us militarily, and so tried to change history so that there would be no Federation for them to contend with. However, there are races far more powerful than we are in the universe, and one of them notified us of their successful attempt to change history. We believe that we were told about the Klingons' attempt to alter the flow of time because it would have resulted in untold violence throughout the Galaxy. This race, known as the Organians, does not tolerate uncontrolled violence, and so decided to tell us about the change that the Klingons made so that it could be averted. Unfortunately, it appears that the Klingons tried to alter the history of the relationship between Earth and Vulcan by shooting down the Vulcan ship that you found. We must assume that in the alternate time line, you were able to expose the presence of the Vulcans, which caused critical changes in the path of earth's history, resulting in the destruction of the civilization on Earth at some point in the future. You, I hope, can understand our desire to prevent it." Kirk said. "You must be joking," Scully said, her voice sounding nearly as emotionless as Spock's at his worst. "Unfortunately," Spock said, weighing in on Kirk's behalf from the science station, "The Admiral is not dissembling in any way." "OK, fine. Assuming that I believe you, which I don't," Scully said, "Why would it be necessary to wipe our memories concerning all of this? After all, if we can't prove anything, we'll just be dismissed as lunatics. They've been able to take evidence from us, and make us look foolish before, and should be able to do so again, ... with your help." It was up to McCoy to disarm the tension growing between Scully and the Bridge staff. Fortunately, the truth could help him prove their case. "Easy," McCoy said from his position a few steps to her right. "If you remember any of this, the "Reticulans" as your partner calls them, would take you away, and dredge all of your knowledge concerning what you've seen from your minds. From what Spock's told me, the process would be very painful for you, and the risk to history of the Vegans learning what you now know, combined with the risk of your *not* being around is as serious as it is for you to have solid proof of extra-terrestrials now." "So that's why you're keeping Mulder unconscious?" "Right," Kirk replied. "With him unconscious, there is only one of you to convince, and only one of you to have to perform a complex memory wipe on later. Fortunately, the technology was lost many years ago, and so we are having to re-learn how to do it ... at least to the degree that will be necessary to ensure that both of you, and history, are safe." "What do you mean by that?" "In our time, we only use reeducation to stabilize the personalities of some psychiatric patients. I don't know much about the techniques that we'll need for you, because their use is against both medical ethics and Federation law." McCoy said, his discomfort at the tack that the discussion was taking more than clear. Scully couldn't believe what she was hearing. These people were talking, rather nonchalantly she thought, about alien threats to earth, temporal effects of her disappearance, wiping her memory, and a lot of other things that only Mulder would believe. The problem was that, as a doctor, she had been trained to look for commonalities in evidence, and for trends that would allow her to make a solid conclusion about a case. Unfortunately, after nearly two days with these people, there weren't a lot of comfortable conclusions that she could draw. Those that were supported by the evidence were, quite frankly, terrifying. Suddenly a strange calm, one born either of shock or acceptance, came over her. "So what do you want me to do while I'm waiting for you to do whatever it is that you're going to do to me?" she asked, her voice and demeanor acquiring only part of the sense of utter defeat and helplessness that she felt. "Look," said McCoy, turning on his southern charm. "Whether you believe us or not, we really don't want to hurt you. I, for one, want to make your stay as comfortable as possible so if you want to spend all of your time in sick bay in order to watch your partner, I won't have any problem with that." Fortunately, McCoy had seen the only thing that might cause Scully to trust him, and concurrently draw her back from the edge of the abysmal despair on which she was teetering. Her feelings toward her partner were clearly very strong, and her medical training, rudimentary though it might be in the technical sense, would keep her on task long enough for him to figure out a way to make her present situation more comfortable for her. "Thank you," she said quietly, and turned toward the turbolift doors. "Ms. Scully," Kirk said, before he could catch the burning glare to which he had just been treated by McCoy. "Yes?" she replied. "If you need anything, the resources of my ship and crew are at your disposal." "Thank you," she said, her voice now barely above a whisper. After the turbolift doors closed, Kirk turned to McCoy, an unusually concerned expression on his face. "Bones, Where did I go wrong?" "In this case, Jim, it's just your bad timing acting up again."McCoy said. "I see," Kirk replied sourly. "Do you have any more ... useful thoughts, "Frankly, Jim, I don't know. She's clearly frightened, but I can't say that if our positions were reversed that I'd feel very secure. I think that I need to spend some time reading up on the two of them, and if Spock can help with any pointers on other things for me to read, I'd be grateful." Spock didn't even consider a comeback to the doctor's unusual request for help, even he could see that the doctor was as concerned for Agent Scully as he had been for her partner two days previously. Unfortunately for all of them, the damage resulting from physical wounds was far more easily repaired, in humans at least, than the damage caused by emotional distress. "Mr. Spock, I believe that we would all benefit from a briefing on these people, and hopefully any materials that you can suggest for the doctor will prove useful in his summary. I'd like to see everyone in the E-deck conference room in four hours." Kirk said before turning his mind to other matters. "Mr. Sulu ... Mr. Chekhov, set course for Vulcan and get under way at your convenience." "Course laid in, sir." replied Sulu. "Departing for Wulcan at impulse welocity, ve vill enter varp in twenty-three minutes," said Chekhov from the navigator's position. "Very good, ... Commander Uhura, you have the Con." "Aye Sir," replied Uhura as Kirk rose and strode toward the lift doors. * * * Saturday October 31, 1997 12:00 PM GMT "Gentlemen, our mission nearly failed today because information concerning agents Mulder and Scully has not been disseminated throughout the command staff. If another incident like the one that occurred on the bridge happens, we may have to resort to force in order to deal with Agent Scully. Therefore, I want to get as much information on the table as we can so that such an incident doesn't happen again. Quite frankly, we can't afford the risk, and I suspect that Agent Scully can't either." Kirk said quietly from the head of the table in the E-deck briefing room. "Jim, I've been hard pressed to get through Spock's materials, but from what I've seen, it's a miracle that we've done as well as we have." "What do you mean, Dr.?" "From what little I've seen, she's been kidnapped, shot at, threatened, and violated in all kinds of ways that are utterly beyond my ability to accept. The problem is that many of the things that happened to her seem to have been the result of actions of the government of the current-day United States, or actions of organizations like the one that Spock had to get help from in order to get the Vulcan ship off-planet without any civilians finding out about what we were doing. If she knew that we were dealing with them, I'd bet that she'd be even less willing to trust us than she is now." "I see," said Kirk quietly. "What about the memory treatments?" "I'll be honest, Jim. I don't like having to do something like that to another being one little bit. She is sentient, and deserves to have control over what is in her mind, no matter how damaging it may be to her." Before Kirk could respond, Spock's voice filled the room: "Dr. McCoy it is not the risk to her that is the concern in this case. As it currently stands, Agent Scully's knowledge is more than enough to seriously affect the future of your world, and by extension, that of the Federation. Destroying the memory of anyone in this manner is as taboo in Vulcan culture as it is to you. However, if the billions of humans as yet unborn on your planet are to have the future that we view as our past, the destruction of her memories of her presence on the Enterprise, as well as the twelve hours before she came aboard is essential." "I know, Spock, but it doesn't keep me from havin' a few misgivings," McCoy said quietly. "Those misgivings, Dr. McCoy, are one of the characteristics about you that make you one of Star Fleet's best surgeons." McCoy was clearly surprised by the compliment, and before he could divert the momentum that Spock had created, Kirk stepped in with other matters to consider. "Gentlemen, I want to get back to this matter, but before I do, Mr. Scott, what can you tell me about the Vulcan scout craft?" "Well, Sahr, I've already got my people workin' on it, and with the exception of some structural damage and weapons scarrin' on the aft-port side, the only damage that we've been able ta' find is to the ship's port warp nacelle. As ye've directed, I've only had Vulcan crew workin' on the ship, but if we're ta' get things completed in time we'll hae' to get some other crew involved sooner or later." "I see," said Kirk thoughtfully. "Mr. Spock, someone will need to make an inspection of the ship's internal structure, and we'll also need a head count on the remaining crew. You've got that detail while Mr. Scott gets a list of people together who might be able to help him with his duties." "Very well, Admiral," Spock replied. "I should point out, however, that there is a strong possibility that the crew may be conscious." "I know, and if they are, you're the best man to come up with an argument that they'll accept for both remaining on board, and resisting whatever urges they may have to scan the ship." "Yes, sir." Spock replied, the characteristically arched eyebrow the only manifestation of the doubt and concern that he was experiencing. "All right," Kirk said, unless anyone objects, I think that we have a plan for dealing with the Vulcans. So that it's fresh in all of your minds, I want to hear what Mr. Spock has to say about his contact with the "consortium" and any thoughts he has concerning Agent Scully's memory treatments and the return of the two agents to Earth." "Admiral, I spoke with the man whom our historical records led me to believe was the head of all operations for the Consortium on the North American continent. Through judicious application of the truth, I was able to convince him of the illogic of attempting to find out what had happened to the two agents. As you directed, he believes that ours is a Vulcan mission and does not know about Star Fleet or the United Federation of Planets. It is my belief that if Dr. McCoy can effectively wipe her memory, Agent Scully will not represent a threat to either herself or history. However, there is also a need for an effective method by which the agents can be returned without any ... undue notice being taken of their absence. When we departed, it had been agreed that the Consortium would develop a plan which we would follow unless we have overwhelming objections. Further communication is to be carried out through electronic messaging, and I believe that the plan will be made "Fine," Kirk replied. "I think that it's best to have people on the scene come up with an arrangement this time, and the fact that the "Consortium" is involved will also cover our tracks so far as Agent Mulder is concerned." "That's all well and good, Jim, but that still doesn't tell me how you're plannin' to get the young lady to trust me enough for me to do a memory wipe on her." "Well, Bones, I was trusting your bedside manner to take care of that," Kirk said with a grin. "I was afraid of that." McCoy muttered. "Dr." Spock said, his body language broadcasting to all who were watching how much he was controlling at that moment, "Should you be unable to gain her willing participation, there are Vulcan methods which could be used to open her mind to the reeducative process. However, as they have not been tested on humans, and are known to have notable effects on the personality of Vulcans, whose mental training is ... more complete than that of most humans, I can only suspect that there may be greater risk to Agent Scully should these methods prove necessary." McCoy, who was clearly shaken by this somewhat open discussion of a technique that Spock had used at least twice on Kirk many years earlier in order to help him forget both Rayna Copek and Edith Kieler, shook his head at the Vulcan before turning back to his commander. "Jim, Spock's idea is a good one, but I think that we should hold it in reserve for a while, and only use it if I can't get her to come around on my own. After all, Mulder would probably notice any fluctuations in her personality, and I don't think that we want them probin' too far into what happened, as I'm not totally sure that I can completely erase the memories." "What do you mean by that, Dr.?" Kirk demanded. "I can erase the conscious memories without any trouble, Jim, but she may have a few subconscious flashbacks from time to time. If she got the right kind of therapy, or encountered some kind of stimulus that I can't predict when I actually take her through the process, they might be able to partially break the block that I'll be putting in. "Why can't you just put a total block on the memories?" Kirk asked. "I can't put in a total block because if I did, I'd have to wipe her memory clean and we'd have to rebuild her personality in the same way that we had to with Uhura during the Nomad incident." "I see," Kirk said, only partly satisfied, but also aware that McCoy would do everything that his medical ethics, the patient's health, and his understanding of the techniques would allow. "Sahr, it sounds to me like the best plan would be to work on gettin' the lass's trust if we can, and then, failin' thot, we can use the other techniques." Scott said from further down the table. "Agreed, Scotty, but I'm not sure that there's a fail-safe way to do it," McCoy said before Kirk could jump in. "Well," Scott said, "If I were in'er place, I'd want to see computer records, histories, anythin' thot'd give her a clearer understanding of the situation that she's now dealin' with. Unless she's totally paranoid ..." "Which she isn't," McCoy interjected. "As I was sayin' unless she's totally paranoid, she'll probably realize that we couldna fake all of those records just for her within a few hours." "True," McCoy muttered, seeing the logic behind Scott's argument. "Mr. Scott, I should point out that if we give Ms. Scully full access to our records that there will be even more to wipe from her memory than would otherwise be necessary." Spock said. "Thot's true, Mr. Spock, but ye're forgettin' thot we need her trust in order to effectively wipe her memories in the first place. If there are a few more detailed ones to take care o' when ye and Dr. McCoy are workin' things out, it'll be a lot less work to wipe them than it would be to deal with her mind when she's resistin' your efforts." "Logical," Spock admitted. "Since we have an agreement," Kirk interrupted, "it'll be the doctor's job to make sure that Ms. Scully has a familiarity with the library computer." McCoy nodded, understanding that Kirk also hoped to get Scully to begin to trust the man who would be charged with wiping her memory later. "Is there any other business?" Kirk asked. After a few moments of silence, he saw that there was none, and dismissed his officers back to their duty stations. VI. Saturday October 31, 1997 19:56 PM GMT "...As you will doubtless recall, the risk of contact with non-Vulcan personnel poses a serious threat to the integrity of the time stream until such time as we can ensure that the crew have either remained unconscious, or the vessel has been repaired and released." With these words, Spock closed his final briefing on the duties that would occupy the fourteen Vulcans currently serving aboard Enterprise for the next several days. Spock moved to the emergency override panel which lay near the small ship's primary airlock, and began working out the sequence that would allow his hastily collected team of scientists and engineers entry to a vessel whose class and design had been superseded by other, superior craft nearly two hundred and fifty years in his past. The long seconds that it took him to figure out how the control panel worked allowed him to reflect on the technological progress that had been required to get from this ship to the great star ship thaat he called home. He was forced to admit, to himself at least, that it would be very interesting to see how such a vessel functioned while in space. As there were no functioning models of this class of scout craft left on Vulcan, he was more than mildly curious to get the chance to compare an actual example of the class to the computerized models which were all that remained of these ships on Vulcan. The outer door of the airlock opened with a nearly silent pneumatic hiss, and Spock quickly moved to occupy the space in front of the door in order to ensure that anyone inside the craft would be unable to see out. He recognized the inherent difficulty of working on a craft which could not be scanned as a result of the continuing radioactive flux from the damaged warp nacelle which, in spite of Mr. Scott's efforts, still hung from the aft-port side like a damaged limb. However, unlike his human crew mates, he had chosen to ignore the frustration that this kind of difficulty normally caused them, and instead chose to prepare for all exigencies. Even so, he had to strongly repress the surge of relief that nearly overwhelmed his control on seeing that no one was on the other side. It was also most satisfactory to see that all crew appeared to be alive, if not fully healthy. "It appears that the crew members are, universally, rather seriously injured." Spock said as he stepped through the short passage. "However, the healing trance has done much for their condition, and it appears that some will become conscious within the hour. As you know, we cannot use standard medication on them until after they have come out of trance, or until Dr. McCoy can provide us with acceptable stasis equipment. I believe that our time will be most profitably used in an attempt to begin repairs on the ship's interior fixtures in order to support the Dr.'s equipment." With this, the team settled down to work, the Vulcans' typical efficiency allowing them to quickly clear up much of the minor damage that the Klingon attack had caused. However, Spock knew that their greatest difficulty, the three crew members who were nearing the point at which they would have to be brought out of their healing states, would have no simple solution. "Captain Spock, the commander is now at the point at which she must be revived," came Lt. Soron's voice over Spock's helmet communicator. "Very well, use standard procedures, but remain suited," Spock said, knowing that the crew of the science vessel must not be allowed to divine the racial make-up of his team. As it was, the clear helmet visors would allow the science vessel's crew enough of a look to know that they were dealing with Vulcanoids, but, if possible, it would certainly be preferable to withhold the knowledge that they were being assisted by Vulcans from the future. "She is conscious, sir." Soron reported a few minutes later. "Very well, I shall speak with her," Spock replied. Moments later, he stood over the supine form of the ship's commanding officer, noting that the serious concussion and broken bones that she had apparently suffered appeared to be fully healed. "I am T'klir of Vulcan, commander of this vessel," she said quietly, the dignity so characteristic of their race showing through despite the exhaustion that always resulted from an unusually long time in the healing trance. "I am Spock, second in command of this facility," he replied. "I am honored to have the opportunity to speak with you Commander. I must know what happened to your vessel so that we may repair it and send you back to Vulcan as quickly as possible." Spock said. As a result of Mr. Scott's careful examination of the ship, Spock already knew more than enough to make the necessary repairs on the vessel. however, he could not admit this to the commander without risking further questions that might force him to release information that could damage the time stream. Though he would never admit it to Dr. McCoy, he had to acknowledge, to himself at least, that there were times when it would be useful to be able to tell a lie. However, as had been demonstrated many times over the two centuries leading up to Spock's "present," truths could be very well disguised by carefully monitoring the information that was made available. "After the completion of a successful scientific mission over the third planet of the solar system some 10.7 of that world's light years from Vulcan, we were in final preparation for departure when an unidentified vessel appeared on close-range scan and fired a high-powered disrupter bolt at our vessel, incapacitating the entire crew as well as our craft. After the weapons impact, I, apparently mistakenly, believed that we would crash into the largest ocean on the planet, thereby remaining undetected by the civilization which exists on that world, and therefore took no action to destroy the vessel as concealment of the wreckage seemed a near certainty." "Your assumption was justified," Spock said. You did, indeed, impact in the Pacific basin, however, your vessel crashed on one of the islands in the Hawaiian chain, currently possessed by the nation-state known as the United States. This command was ordered to Earth in order to ensure that, for the present, definitive knowledge of the existence of non-terrestrial civilizations continues to be withheld from the Terrans." "What agency gave those orders?" the commander asked. "The agency that gave those orders has requested that both they, and those who crew this vessel remain anonymous." "I see," replied the commander. "It is also my duty to request that your crew be put into stasis until such time as we can release your vessel as it is necessary to ensure that your crew not receive certain technological knowledge from those who are working to repair your craft." The commander quickly realized that her benefactors would not give her more information. Normally it would be her responsibility to ensure that her crew remain safe. however the combination of the fact that they had nearly been the cause of irreversible contamination of a planetary civilization, and the knowledge that this unknown power had prevented that contamination, suggested that it would be necessary to trust these people. The fact that they appeared to be derived from Vulcan stock was interesting, but ultimately irrelevant to the decision that she had to make. She had gotten the chance to look at the vessel that had fired on her ship, and knew that it was too small to support the kind of repair facilities that were, obviously, being used now. There was the possibility that another, larger, craft had been called in, but she doubted that such an action would have been taken in order to make repairs on a craft which could just as easily have been destroyed. As a result, she saw only one response which she could logically make. "Very well," she said, and prepared herself for a return to unconsciousness. Captain's log: Old Earth Date November 1, 1997. James T. Kirk recording: Fortunately for all concerned, Mr. Spock was able, barely, to convince the three Vulcans who came out of healing trance to be placed in stasis until their craft has been repaired. Mr. Spock has been very reticent on the matter, and I suspect that his appeal may not have been made along accepted lines in the Vulcan culture. He has reported, however, that repairs are going well, and has stated that he believes they will be completed within two to three days depending on the availability of materials from Mr. Scott. Dr. McCoy is growing increasingly concerned about Agent Scully who has refused to sleep since her entrapment during the silent running operation nearly two days ago. Considering the limited rest that she got in the days before the incident, the Dr. estimates that she has had no more than fifteen hours sleep in the last six days, and none in the last thirty hours. However, due to her obvious mistrust of all ship's personnel, we have decided, for the moment, to avoid the use of sedatives at the risk of causing her to lose what little trust she has been willing to extend to us. Monday November 2, 1997 "Dr. Scully, I think that you should take some time to rest. You won't do your partner any good if you're a patient here, and not just an observer," said McCoy after the extent of her exhaustion had become all-too-clear to him. "You know that I don't feel comfortable sleeping while we're here, and Mulder is unconscious," she replied, sinking with increasing ease into the oft-repeated argument which had become part of the scenery in this strange place over the past few days. "Look," McCoy said, his patience at an end. "If we'd wanted to do something to your partner, we would have done it already. I've been reasonable in allowin' you to be here so that you could observe everything that my staff has done for him over the last few days, but that doesn't mean that I'm not just as responsible for your health while you're aboard. If you don't go voluntarily, I'll have to sedate you forcibly." The terrified look that McCoy received in recompense for his threat told him that, as had happened all-too-frequently over the past few days, he had just done a fairly good job of destroying the woman's trust in him. He knew that after his recent comments, he didn't have many things that he could do, so he fell back on what he hoped would be a satisfactory intermediate solution. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know that he's important to you, and that you're afraid that we'll do something to the both of you, but I'm here to promise you, colleague to colleague, that you won't be harmed by anyone aboard this ship." Intellectually, Scully knew that the man who called himself McCoy was right. She'd been conscious for nearly sixty hours straight, with barely twenty hours' sleep in the preceding five or six days. Her body was nearing collapse, and despite the need for continuing vigilance, both for herself and for Mulder, she was rapidly nearing the point at which she wouldn't be able to go on. However, she would have to establish a few ground rules before giving in to what she recognized as good medical advice. "I'm not leaving sick-bay," she said, the determination in her voice clear despite her obvious exhaustion. "I didn't expect that you would," McCoy replied, the need for diplomacy the only thing keeping him from allowing the sense of victory that he felt to show in his voice. "In fact, your old bed's still open, and I'm more than happy to let you have it." "Fine, then you can move it in here." "No." McCoy replied, the determination to make damned sure that she would follow at least some of *his* rules sharpening his tone. "You won't get any sleep if you're in here watchin' him, particularly when my staff has to move about in here to take readings every couple of hours. You need at least twelve hours of sleep young lady, and if I've got to knock you out and throw you over my shoulder to make sure that you get it, then that's what I'll do." Despite her learned paranoia, even Scully could hear the tone of a doctor truly worried about someone for whom he felt responsible. Scully knew that she would have to begin reading the truly vast amount of information concerning Federation history, civilization and culture that she had managed to dig out of the ship's computers earlier that day. There were also files about herself and her partner that she would need to read, and she would just have to fit these in to her schedule as best she could. However, for the moment, no matter how much she might be afraid to do so, she acceded to McCoy's wishes and slumped forward, the cumulative exhaustion of the last few days overwhelming her where she sat. Moments later, James T. Kirk was more than a little shocked to see McCoy carrying the small red-haired woman toward a biobed where he gently lay her out and covered her with some blankets that he pulled out of a near-by storage closet. "Bones, I didn't know that you made a habit of carrying your patients around sick-bay," he said, one of his trademark grins spreading across his face. "Yeah Jim, I could do it with her because it's obvious that she follows a healthy, low-fat diet, *and* her doctor's instructions, unlike the man who is three weeks overdue for his annual physical," said McCoy, seeing immediately that he had scored a point. "All right, Bones, far be it for me to tell you how to handle things here," said Kirk with a sigh. "I'm glad to see that you're finally learnin' who's boss around here," McCoy said with a grin. "...Seriously though, I assume that you weren't down here in order to check up on my bedside manner." "True," replied Kirk. "I think that we're going to be out of Sol system for five or six more days, and then we're going to have to return the agents to earth no matter what level of trust you've engendered in Ms. Scully. Spock says that she hasn't done very much work on the computer at all, and I think that we're going to have to push her to do it if she doesn't soon." "Well, Jim, I can't speak to her psychological state with any clarity at the moment. With Agent Mulder still on the mend down here, and the regular injuries that always occur when we've got people on major engineering projects, I've been too busy to read the background material that Spock wants me to. It's a lot of work, and I've not had time for it. What I can say is that I'm concerned that she refuses to trust us at all, despite the openness with which we've treated her. Usually in these cases, unless the patient is a true paranoid, it should be possible to make some kind of breakthrough reasonably quickly." "Have you had any luck at all?" "No, Jim. I don't have the faintest idea what to do next. I've made sick-bay accessible to her, allowed her to stay with her partner, haven't pushed her to do much about her own condition until just now, and have done everything to prove to her that we don't intend her any harm." "Are you sure that she's not paranoid?" Kirk asked concernedly. "I think that she's learned not to trust people, but her general behavior isn't characteristic of a true paranoid psyche." "Well, Bones, we know that she's been through some traumatic experiences relating to the Vegans, and Spock thinks that she may have some lost memories as a result of what was done to her. Considering how important it is to get some kind of trust built up with her, I want you to put Chapel in charge here for the duration of this part of the mission, and get everything that Spock thinks that you should read cleared so that you have as much knowledge of her as possible. You're our best hope for getting this done, and as both you and Spock said a couple of days ago, we've got to get her to trust us if we're to avoid causing permanent changes in her personality." "You're probably right, Jim." McCoy sighed. "I'll tell Chapel that she's in charge here until further notice." "Good," Kirk said, rising to leave. Before he was out the door, however, the ship's red alert klaxons sounded, and practically simultaneously, Spock's voice rang over the ship's com system. "Red alert, Red alert," his voice intoned. "All decks to battle stations, admiral to the bridge." The Admiral moved quickly to the nearest com panel, and made his characteristic announcement in high-stress situations. "Kirk here," he snapped. "Admiral, a large number of craft are presently on our long-range scanners. Type and affiliation unknown." "Understood, I'm on my way," Kirk said. Kirk's sudden departure from sick-bay prevented him from hearing McCoy's frustrated cursing, caused by his anger at what such alerts usually meant for his staff, as well as the frustration caused by the certain knowledge that the tremendous barrage of noise would doubtless wake Scully. Moments later, James T. Kirk was sitting in the command chair on Enterprise' bridge, adrenaline and that sense of 'rightness' that he always got from sitting there in any situation sharpening his nerves and leaving him with a sense of readiness for whatever the galaxy might throw at him. "Report," he said, his voice cutting through the din from the still-active klaxons. "Sir, long-range scans have picked up at least eight different vessels on a range of courses that appear to converge near the Alpha Centauri system. Computer telemetry suggests that at least three of these craft will cross the most efficient routes between our present position and the release point," said Spock, his head bent over the science station. "If we take an evasive course that will allow us to avoid their current flight plans, will we be able to avoid their scanners?" Kirk asked. "Affirmative, sir. However, such a course will add 2.57 days to our current ETA, requiring some modification of the final release point." "Damn," Kirk muttered. "Admeeral, I have plotted all possible wariants of our course taking into account possible wariations in the aliens' courses. I think that if ve prepare for maneuwers at sustained high-varp speed, and maintain varp eight or higher, that ve can get back to Earth only four hours behind our prewious estimated return time." Chekhov said quietly from the navigator's station/weapons console. "You said warp eight or higher, lieutenant, why the uncertainty?" "It vill depend on how good their scanners are, sir." Chekhov replied. "Mr. Spock," "Unknown at this time, sir. Although our scanners are several times more accurate than those on contemporary Vulcan craft, only one of the three craft which will come within 500 billion kilometers of our previous flight plan is Vulcan. The others are unknown to Federation records, and although their engine technology appears to be comparable to, or slightly less than, that of the Vulcan craft, I can make no estimate concerning their sensory capabilities at this range." "Can you make sure that they don't see us?" "Affirmative, sir, though doing so will require careful vigilance on the "Do what you can, gentlemen, I needn't remind you of the risk of our being seen, particularly when we're traveling on warp technology that is three generations ahead of what is out there at the moment." Kirk said. He expected no direct response from either officer, and so was not surprised to see them bend over their stations, already setting up the necessary protocols to make sure that Enterprise and her secrets would remain safely hidden. He did, however, need to get Scotty up to speed on the situation, and quickly punched up a tie-in to his chief engineer. "Kirk to engineering," he said after tapping one of the myriad switches on the arm of his chair. "Engineering, Scott here," "Scotty, we've got some current-day craft in between us and our release point. " he said. "We're sure to lose a couple of days on that leg of the mission, but Mr. Chekhov thinks that he can get us back to Earth only a few hours behind schedule if your engines are up to it." "Well, sahr, it depends on what the lad's thinkin' to ask o' my wee bairns." "I'm not sure exactly what I'll need from you Mr. Scott, though I would expect that we'll be at warp eight for quite some time, with a possible requirement for maximum speed on very short notice." "Aye Sahr, that shouldna be a problem, so long as we're not plannin' to be at warp 10 for more than an hour or so." "We'll do what we can up here Scotty, just have those engines ready at a moment's notice." "Aye Sahr, thot we will," Scott replied before closing the channel. Kirk suddenly remembered that they had guests aboard who would be very surprised to hear an alert called on a craft such as this in English. "Spock, I certainly hope that our passengers didn't hear that last alert," Kirk said. "No sir, they did not, as Dr. McCoy has installed the stasis equipment, and the crew have all been placed in stasis until repairs have been completed. As you have ordered, however, I have directed the members of the repair team to remain at their current duties unless specifically ordered to leave them until such time as the science vessel has been released for transit to Vulcan." "Good," Kirk said with a sigh, glad as always for Spock's efficiency. McCoy turned from his computer just in time to see Scully's back pass between the main sick-bay doors. He knew that she had only gotten a few minutes of sleep, and had absolutely no business moving about the ship, and hoped, despite the obvious impossibility of his task, to convince her to go back to bed. For her part, Special Agent Dana Scully was on a mission. Her father had been in the navy, and it didn't take that kind of background to know that if a red alert had been called, the ship must be in some kind of trouble. The thought that anyone could pose a threat serious enough to cause these people to bring the ship to full alert status was more than enough to convince her that she had to find out what was going on before she could go back to sleep. She hadn't counted on the doctor catching her as quickly as he did, but wasn't surprised to hear his voice only seconds after she'd slipped out of sick-bay either. "Agent Scully, I think that you should get back to bed," he said as he caught up with her at the turbolift entrance nearest to sick-bay. "Dr. McCoy, Would you go back to bed if you were in an alien environment which you haven't deemed safe, with another person who is totally defenseless?" Scully asked, determined to do what she could, to both deal with these people, and represent her own interests as well. The serious risk to her physical health that her emotional state posed weighed heavily on her, but she knew that if she didn't do what she could to satisfy herself about this latest problem, she would be unable to rest. "In most circumstances, I'd be just as determined as you are, but I'd hope that I'm also a good enough doctor to know when I'm unable to function rationally, and incapable of making decisions that will be best for the people that I'm sworn to care for." McCoy realized within moments of his comment that he had, yet again, angered the young woman who was such a mystery to him. "Doctor, all of my patients save Mulder are dead by the time I have to care for them." she replied quietly, the words sufficient by themselves to express the sarcasm that she was too tired to express in any other way. "Well, young lady, if you don't get some uninterrupted sleep soon, you'll be one of your patients," McCoy snapped, his patience nearing its end. "Doctor," Scully said, her own temper growing short. "I'm going to the bridge, I'm finding out what's going on, and *then* I'm going to come back to sick-bay and sleep. You're welcome to try to stop me." "Look," McCoy said hoping to get their conversation back on a rational footing. "Neither of us will be helped if you get violent, since I'm probably as well-trained as you are in unarmed combat, and Admiral Kirk will certainly throw you in the brig if you attack one of the senior officers...." McCoy's warning reminded Scully of the possibility that these people *had* been trying to treat her with as much flexibility as they could. The thought of being unable to keep an eye on Mulder, or for that matter move about freely herself, was more than a bit unsettling, and she quickly prepared to back down. However, before she could open her mouth to apologize, McCoy gave her the out that she needed. "As you seem determined to go to the bridge yourself, I'll accompany you there, ... much as I'd rather have you in Sick Bay instead. " "Fine," she replied just as the lift doors opened. When they arrived on the bridge, Kirk turned around to see who had arrived, a broad--and somewhat evil--grin spreading across his face when he saw Scully standing beside his CMO. "Bones, I thought that you'd said that you were the boss down there," he said, the laughter in his voice nearly bubbling over when he saw McCoy's expression. "Admiral, if there hadn't been a red alert, I think that things would have been fine. As it is, my patient wanted to find out what was going on before she went back to bed." "Well, Ms. Scully, we're having to avoid a number of ships that are crossing our intended course." "I see," Scully said. "Why not just fly right through?" "Because the risk to the future resulting from contact with us here is just as great as it would have been had we left that Vulcan ship for you back on Earth." Scully nodded and turned to leave, realizing that whatever the situation was, she could do nothing to check the Admiral's honesty or monitor the situation, given her exhausted state. Just before they moved through the turbolift doors, Kirk shot McCoy a look, and said: "Bones, I hope that you can reestablish control down there for a while," he said, reminding McCoy of his ill-fated boast, and the need for peace on the bridge while Spock and Chekhov monitored the space around the ship. "No problem, Jim." replied McCoy, "After all, considerin' the amount of time that you and Spock have been in Sick-bay, I've had lots of time to gain experience in dealing with difficult patients." The last thing that he and Scully heard as the doors closed was the laughter that broke out amongst the bridge staff.
VII. Tuesday November 3, 3:00 PM EST Walter Skinner looked forward to his weekly meetings with the man that he had privately dubbed "Cancer man" about as much as he looked forward to his yearly week of refresher courses. Unfortunately, this time at least, he had a lot of things that he wanted to talk with the man about, not least the disappearance of his best pair of agents. However, as he had become increasingly difficult for the older man to control, it had become much harder to get anything that could be called information out of his nominal superior. He was sure that this meeting would be no different. It was obvious, even as the man stepped through the door that separated his office in the J. Edgar Hoover building from Skinner's, that his attention was not focused on his meeting with the A.D. "Mr. Skinner, I have very little time for you this week, so I want to clear important matters out of the way immediately," he said as he took his characteristic place in the office. "What important matters?" Skinner demanded. "I want you to listen to what I say very carefully," the man said, taking a drag from one of his ever-present cigarettes. "I am warning you of this matter in spite of my better judgment, because I believe that it is necessary for you to be told." There was a brief pause while he ordered his thoughts. "I don't want you to take any report from agents Scully and Mulder on their current investigation. Doing so would constitute a threat to national security, and would almost certainly forfeit their lives." "How can I take receipt of a report from agents Mulder and Scully when they have been missing for nearly a week," Skinner snapped, perversely glad that the man had brought up the issue that had concerned him most over the last six days. "They are not missing," the man said, as he stubbed out one cigarette and began smoking another. "They are currently unavailable to report on the status of their present case." "How can that be, when they solved the Wikeke Whacker case *before* they disappeared." Skinner demanded. "As you know, there are those in my organization who, on occasion, 'help' Mr. Mulder with information concerning our activities. Unfortunately, they have assisted him in that way again, and he has chosen to follow their lead with only the support of his partner." "I see," Skinner said, knowing that although the story seemed, somehow, to be ... missing something, he would not be told what had happened until his agents returned. "If I don't have a report from them, I won't be able to sign off on any expenses that they may have." Skinner said, realizing that the man clearly didn't want any information about whatever had happened to Mulder and Scully to come to light. "I believe that there will be no expenses resulting from this case. However, should any be incurred, they will be taken care of through ... unofficial means," he said, trying to close the matter as quickly as possible. "But what about ..." "Mr. Skinner, I would strongly suggest that you probe no further into the matter." Cancer man said, his voice acquiring a threatening tone that Skinner had not heard in nearly a year. "Or you'll what?" Skinner demanded. "I, personally, will do nothing. However, I've heard that New York is due for a replacement A.D., and that your name has been mentioned rather frequently of late in connection with the position." So, Skinner thought, that would be the way of things. Transfer him to New York, a nominal lateral step, but in reality a demotion. There were others who could do his job as well as he could, but none of them had the personal reasons that he did for keeping the X-files open. It had been obvious to him for quite some time that if he were gone, Mulder's work would be at terrible risk, and the future of the partnership between Mulder and Scully would be threatened as well. With the man's comments about their lives being at risk as a result of information from this case coming to light as well, he knew that he would have to agree to remain blissfully innocent concerning whatever had happened to them. "All right," Skinner said. "You have my word that I won't try to push them on the matter. However, You'd damned well better tell me where they are," he said. "In all honesty, Mr. Skinner, I don't know." Normally Skinner would have laughed outright at such an intimation. After all, it would be utter stupidity for the man to be unaware of the exact location of his most determined, if not most effective, enemy at all times, and whatever else Skinner might think of him, he was certain that the man was *not* stupid. This time, however, he had the odd feeling that the man just might be telling the truth. "Do you know when they *will* be in contact?" he asked, hoping to keep the man talking so that he could glean as much information as possible, whether he was being told the truth or not. The look of controlled panic that spread across his enemy's face told him everything that he needed to know even before the man spoke. "No," he said and rose to step through the door. Before he could leave, however, Skinner got in another question. "Where will they be returned?" "I don't know," the man said and closed the door. Wednesday November 4, 1997 5:36 PM GMT Scully had been sitting in front of the computer station for nearly twelve hours, reading with an increasing mix of anger, fear and awe, records that she knew Mulder would give his life to see. She had, briefly, entertained the hope that she could argue McCoy into letting him come to consciousness so that he could, for a short time at least, know the truth. However, she knew that the ship's CMO couldn't allow him to come to consciousness as a result of very explicit orders that he had received from Admiral Kirk when they had been brought aboard. She also suspected that although the doctor had disagreed with these orders when they had been handed down, her behavior during the last week had convinced him of their wisdom. It was clear that everyone knew a great deal about both her partner and herself, and she was now glad to have the chance to learn something about their captors. Unfortunately, what she had learned was consistent with the fact that they were inescapably trapped aboard a star ship from three centuries in Earth's future. For one thing, the records were far too detailed to allow for any possibility of a hastily prepared cover job. Secondly, these same records were far too detailed and too internally consistent to allow any possibility of a theft by the consortium of materials from actual alien races. Such a theft would have left gaps which she was confident that she could have found based on her growing skill with the computer's highly advanced file retrieval system. She now had a fairly complete understanding of what the Federation knew about the politics of earth's stellar neighborhood at this point in its history, and was surprised to see that in some ways Mulder appeared to know more about Earth's enemies than the people three centuries in their future. However, she still didn't know what was known about either her partner or herself,--though she was aware that they knew quite a lot--and wasn't clear at all about what, if any, information the Consortium had left in its wake. It was clear from the way that she had been treated over the past few days that these people didn't know about the television show which, in so many ways, was uncomfortably similar to her present reality. These questions would have to be answered before she would go so far as to trust them with her memory, and even then she couldn't say for sure that she would allow them to do what they felt had to be done, no matter the possible damage to the future. Friday November 6, 1997 3:56 PM GMT James T. Kirk knew that he was now going to have to face Agent Scully. McCoy believed that he had finally gained a small measure of trust from her, and as the person responsible for a large part of her predicament, he felt that he owed her some attention after nearly ten days of avoidance. However, he also knew the risk of trying to invade her self-imposed isolation, and only hoped that what he was about to show her would only add to the limited trust that she had shown his crew. "Yes," came her response to the enunciator. "This is Admiral Kirk, I was hoping to ask you to come down to the shuttle deck with me to see the release of the Vulcan survey craft." "All right," she replied moments before the doors opened to reveal her small form, clad in comfortable clothes that were obviously characteristic of her time period. "Come with me," he invited and moved quickly to the nearest turbolift entrance. He was surprised by the question which she asked while they were waiting for the nearest car to arrive. "Why are you taking me to see this?" she asked. "Because I thought that you might want to see the ship released so that you would know our mission was truly intended as a salvage job and nothing else." He could see that Scully was processing that information, and was pleased by her response. "If you'd shown me this two days ago, I wouldn't've believed you." "Why not?" "Because it would have been too easy to trick me in any number of ways, including just releasing the ship and then retrieving it a few minutes later after I'd gone back to my quarters or to sick-bay to look in on Mulder." "True," Kirk admitted. "So if you don't mind my asking, what changed your mind?" "I've been reading a lot of records on your computer lately, and although I'm still not totally sure that you didn't come here to interfere with our work as well, its hard for me to deny that you are from the future, and that there is truly going to be something called the United Federation of Planets." "I'm glad to hear it," Kirk said as the doors opened onto the great observation balcony that hung over part of Enterprise' aft shuttle deck. "I'm sure you are," Scully said, the sarcasm clear in her voice. "I'm also sure that you won't be glad to know that I'm still not sure that I'm willing to let you wipe my memory. Its been done before, and quite frankly, I'm still not sure that you won't help the Consortium by taking more than what you've said that you'll take." Kirk snapped around, his hope that this next part of the mission would go easily, dashed by her words, and more importantly, the attitude behind them. "Why?" he asked. "Because both of us know things that could seriously set back a lot of projects that the government has been working on for a long time....if we could only offer proof of what we know." she said. At this moment they were temporarily rescued from further clashes by Scotty's announcement that the ship was ready for launch. Kirk watched Scully watching the big ship as Enterprise' tractor beams maneuvered it gently through the huge gap in the outer hull left when the doors folded into the compartment's bulkheads. He saw that she was facinated by the endless void into which the small Vulcan ship was disappearing even as they watched. The precision handling of the operation made it clear, to Kirk at least, that Scotty had taken direct charge of the handling of the ship. As they watched, the ellipsoid-shaped craft was released from the tractor's hold and floated free just aft of the ship which, in so many ways, was it's technological descendant. "I am now laying in a course to Vulcan," Spock said over his helmet communicator. Unfortunately, the two ships' systems had been difficult to synchronize, and so they had found it necessary to leave a crew member aboard to ensure that the ship would be set on the proper course. Spock, of course, had volunteered for the duty, and seeing no better alternative, Kirk had allowed him to stay aboard the ship after its airlock had been closed, and the shuttle deck depressurized. It had also been necessary for Spock to ensure that the stasis equipment was returned to Enterprise, and the Vulcan crew hit with a mix of phaser stun and drugs that he and McCoy had agreed would ensure the loss of their conscious memories concerning their experiences over the brief period of time that they had spent out of stasis or healing trance over the last ten days. Although the trance memories would still be available to them, they would be as indistinct as such memories usually were, and would only show them the inside of their own ship in any case. Therefore, when they were reawakened by their commander, all that they would have would be some indistinct memories of a battle, and later, people repairing their craft. Though not the best solution, it was the best that they could do given Vulcan biology, and the general constraints imposed upon them by their mission. Several minutes later, the spectral flash of the Vulcan ship's warp drive was followed by the announcement that Spock had been beamed aboard, and that Enterprise was returning to Earth at maximum warp. This news was a mix of good and bad for The Admiral. On one hand, the Vulcan ship was away, and the risk to history that it might pose had been minimized. However, Mulder and Scully were still aboard, and their disposition was still a major problem for all concerned. He sighed, knowing that they had only two days to convince Scully of the necessity of what they intended to do. If they couldn't, McCoy was becoming increasingly insistent on the fact that he would not be responsible for the damage to her, both mind and body, and the history that she might not make as a result of what his techniques could do to her unwilling psyche. Friday November 6, 1997 7:45 PM GMT After witnessing the departure of the alien ship over which Mulder had nearly lost his life, Scully returned to reading about the future. She was growing increasingly frustrated by the difficulty that she was having in accessing records that pertained to her partner and herself. She knew that the records were there, it was more a problem of figuring out how to find two people in a database that held information on uncounted billions both dead and still unborn. Finally after her third frustrating pass through the records, she decided to ask for some help in getting the information that she had to have in order to make a decision that she knew would affect her life and that of her partner for many years to come. "Scully to Bridge," she said, actuating the com panel on her desk. "Bridge, Spock here," "I need some help in getting access to any records that you have concerning Agent Mulder and myself," she said, somewhat distracted by the need to figure out why this man's face seemed familiar, though she knew that she'd never seen anything like it before, save on TV in her apartment which, at that moment, seemed very far away. "I shall make a copy of the files that I have retrieved and have them delivered to your quarters," he replied. "Thank you," Scully said as the screen winked out. It took her only a few more seconds thought to place Spock as the 'person' who had subdued her in the transporter room when she and Mulder had been brought aboard. Needless to say, she decided that the records would get her most careful scrutiny before she would choose to believe anything that she read. Moments later a young woman was standing outside her door, holding one of the small data blocks that Scully knew were used to store huge amounts of information. "Here you are, Ma'am," the young woman said as she handed the "tape" to Scully. "Thank you," Scully said and stepped back, allowing the doors to close between them. Hours later, Scully was still reading case reports that she had filed over a period of nearly five years, all *after* the date on which they had found the Vulcan ship. The cases were, the usual for them, poltergeists, supposed abductions, serial murders, and on and on. By her count, Mulder would manage to get himself into the hospital at least thirteen times over the next few years, and she would spend far too much time in hospital herself. What she couldn't figure out was why, a little under five years from now, the reports suddenly stopped, and there was no record of either of them working for the FBI after that last, seemingly routine, report. She decided to attack another problem while her mind worked on possible ways of getting more information on their lives. "Computer, correlate all available records dealing with extraterrestrial activity on earth with any case files that were listed as X-files by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation between 1992 and 2001." she said. Within moments a tremendous list of documents was presented to her, some from the tape that she had been given, and others from the computer's central storage. There was obviously too much here for her to read, so she asked the computer for any definitive works that might contain an overview of the material being presented. Moments later, a book published in the late Twenty-first Century was on the screen. As she read through the document, Scully began noting down items that she wanted to learn more about than she could from the reasonably short chapter that dealt directly with the X-files. After finishing the book, Scully went back to the top of her list of subjects and began working through them. The first would prove by far the most disconcerting for her, and would make it all-too-clear why Cancer man and his cronies had fought so hard to keep the truth from them. When she'd finished reading that first document she couldn't say that she blamed them at all. "Computer, give me the complete text of the Treaty of Roswell New Mexico, circa 1948." she said. The two page document came up on screen, and its contents, quite frankly, frightened her more than anything that she had ever seen or read in the her five-year partnership with Mulder. In short, the treaty was a reciprocal agreement between The Western democracies and the government of the Vegan Tyranny. Earth would be permitted to keep and study any technology that it had captured from the wreck of the scout that had crashed at Roswell in the previous year. Earth would provide limited basing rights to the Vegans who would maintain small teams of engineers and scientists at several points on the globe in order to repair damaged craft, and, "where possible, assist the signatories in the development of technology not currently available to them." They would also be permitted to study and, where possible, take advantage of, the resources of Earth including its human population. If Earth should back out on any part of this agreement, the Vegans would "...act in defense of their projects and interests, with non-negotiable consequences for the vast majority of the population of Sol III." Scully took this to mean that they would launch an assault on the planet, one which she had no doubt would result in terrible suffering for those who might survive the initial bombardment. This impression was reinforced when she read the protective clauses of the treaty which included the single sentence that obviously gave Cancer man all the reasons he might need to make sure that no one ever learned the "truth". "Should any part of this treaty, or the identities of those signatory to it, be released to the civilian media of Sol III, the agreement will be considered broken, with consequences as stated in the preceding clauses." Scully wasn't stupid, it didn't take much for her to draw the obvious conclusion that if they *had* been successful in exposing the presence of the Vulcan ship to the media, there would have been a full-blown investigation into alien activity on the planet, and--sooner or later--the presence of the Reticulans/Vegans would have become public knowledge. The consequences of *that* didn't bear thinking about. She knew that no matter what the people in the UFO community might think, there was no way that the disunited planet on which they lived would be able to defend itself against a ship like the Enterprise. She knew that although far less advanced than this ship, a fleet of Vegan craft would doubtless be enough to overwhelm Earth's comparatively limited defenses and do as they wanted with whatever might remain of the planet's population after the short-lived defensive struggle ended in ignominious defeat for her world. If her reaserch proved this document to be valid, and not just something cooked up by the crew of the Enterprise in order to trick her into being willing to go through a memory erasure, she knew that she would go through the procedure willingly. She would do it because she *didn't* want to know this truth for herself, and also because she knew that her partner wasn't yet ready to deal with this kind of truth. The fact that there were alien powers that might have taken Samantha was already deeply interwoven into his belief system and personality. The probability that they had help from, and were working with, the American Government was well within his ability to accept. However, his obsession might blind him to the need for secrecy that this information made clear. As a result, he might not understand that there was a time for the release of these "truths" and that this was not the time. Simply put, the information had to be out of his hands, and although they had never talked about them, she knew that he knew of her nightmares. What she didn't know was whether he had ever heard her talk in her sleep as she had at her mother's home during several of her visits there over the time since she had been returned from ... wherever she had been taken. Suddenly, with a flash of comprehension born of her increasing familiarity with the Enterprise' computer's file management system, Scully knew how to get to the files that she'd wanted to see concerning her life and that of her partner. "Computer, list all files held by any agency of the governments signatory to the 1948 Treaty of Roswell New Mexico concerning Agents Mulder and Scully of the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation." Again, the list was daunting, but there were a number of files that were marked with special symbology of varying kinds. These, then, would be her first targets. "Computer, show me file MJ-1254-3C1," she said. "Access denied," the computer replied. "Why?" she asked. "File is restricted to persons holding the rank of Admiral in Star Fleet Command or its equivalent Federation civilian rank." Scully quickly realized that she was in over her head, but also knew that there was someone aboard ship who could allow her to see the file that contained the consortium's report on the experiments done on her after her abduction. Then, in another flash, she realized that the tape that Spock had given her was a copy of his personal directory, and therefore probably contained a lot of files that she, as a guest, would never have been allowed to see. It was obvious to her that the Federation, or at least the government of Earth, still had secrets that it wished to keep from its people, concerning events that had happened three centuries in their past. It was easy to test this hypothesis, and after removing the cartridge that she'd been given, she repeated her question concerning files dealing with herself and her partner. As she suspected, the list was notably shorter than that which had appeared when Spock's data had been available. Assuming that these people were anything like those on the old Star Trek series--an assumption proven by days of observation of McCoy if nothing else--she knew that Spock would never have made a mistake of this sort, and that he had quite obviously been trying to give her every possible datum in order to help her in her investigation. Now, to see if Admiral Kirk would be as forthcoming as his first officer had been.... "Scully to Admiral Kirk," she said, activating her com unit. "Kirk here," came the sleepy response. "Admiral Kirk, I hope that I didn't wake you," she said, only slightly contritely. "Yes," he said with an engaging grin, "...but as you know from your father's time in the service, it's part of the job. Now, what can I do for you?" "There are three files concerning myself and Agent Mulder that I need to review, but they're protected by a security clearance higher than that available to Mr. Spock, who gave me a copy of the files that he's been reading to give you the briefings that you've had concerning myself and Agent Mulder." "I see," said Kirk, his face showing no surprise at the news that Spock had given her the data that he'd collected on the two agents. "I'll be down in a few minutes and I'll clear the files for you," he said before closing the channel from his end. Minutes later, Kirk signaled his presence at her door. After she admitted him, she turned back to the terminal and quickly detailed the problem. "There are three files in the data that Captain Spock gave me concerning my partner and myself, that his clearance seems to be unable to break. The computer says that only someone of Admiral's rank or higher in Star Fleet can open these files. At least one of them has a header that I know means that it contains data on government experimentation on human subjects in relation to their work with captured alien knowledge. I'm hoping that you can open these files so that I can go over the data." "It would be my pleasure," Kirk said, flashing her a pale imitation of that boyish grin that had probably ingratiated this man to as many women as his namesake character had known on her far-away TV screen. Fortunately, Scully thought, his maturity in the here-and-now matched that which he had shown in the seven movies that had been made dealing with the latter parts of his career. "Computer," he said, interrupting her thoughts, "request voice print identification, Kirk, Admiral James T." "Identity confirmed," the computer said. "Access all files currently listed on this terminal," he said. "File access requires confirmatory retinal scan," the computer replied. "Commence scan," he said, leaning toward the retinal laser port that sat to the left of the fold-out screen. "Retinal scan approved," the computer said, as it opened the files. "Thank you," Scully said, moving to retake her seat in front of the terminal. "Certainly," Kirk replied. "Do you mind if I go through these as well?" he asked indicating the near-by chair. "No," she said, and made room for him to sit within viewing range of the monitor. The fact that he, too, wanted to see the files came as a surprise to her, and she was glad of the opportunity to see his reactions to the material that they contained. Depending on Kirk's responses, she would have a much better sense of just how far she would be willing to go in extending trust to these people. The first document was The Consortium's report on what ha7d been done to her during her abduction. It appeared that most of her time had been spent with human scientists working on the possibility of re-engineering DNA in order to make people more responsive to external stimuli, and more capable of prolonged action once the stimulus had occurred. Furthermore, the branched DNA that had been found in her bloodstream was, primarily, the bi-product of special DNA engineering techniques that were already available to civilian scientists, although their work had, as yet, been confined to simple single-celled organisms and viri. Obviously The Vegan scientific teams had helped their colleagues develop vectors that were capable of far more than those of which Scully had been aware. This also meant that practically all of the blame for her suffering belonged with her fellow man, and not with aliens as Mulder and his friends at the Lone Gunman had thought. The second document was a detailed copy of what they'd seen in that mine in West Virginia. She saw that after her return, her case had been closely followed by some of the most powerful people in the shadow government. She saw that her children, simply designated by their initials, had also been followed until the mid Twenty-First Century when the need to protect the population of Earth from knowledge of the existence of extra-terrestrial civilizations had ended with the first contact with the Vulcans made in 2061 when Earth's first experiments with warp drive resulted in an unexpected first contact with the Vulcans. She saw that The Consortium's scientists believed that her will alone had been the difference between life and death on her return, and that a great deal of interest had developed concerning whether the will to survive was a heritable trait, or something developed as a result of one's experiences. She learned that she had been taken, not because they thought that she would be useful in their experiments, but solely because Mulder had become too much of a threat to the security of the Vegan teams. She saw that most of the officials in the Consortium had hoped that she *would* die, so that Mulder would follow her, as they were convinced that he would, within a year of her disappearance. Therefore, when she read that the man whose title and job description were all-too-close to that of Cancer man, had risked everything to get her released before it was too late, she nearly fainted. Had Kirk not been there to steady her, she would have fallen from her chair. "Ms. Scully, I think that you should take a little time before you read that last document," he said, still standing within easy reach of her chair. "No," she said, quickly regaining her equilibrium. "I have to know the truth," she said. "I've been through some difficult times, experiments done on me, dangerous away missions, ... you know the drill," he said quietly. "I know that our enemies have done this kind of work for centuries, but I had forgotten just how cruel we humans used to be to each other." "When I joined the FBI," Scully said, "...I thought that I'd be working to stop the cruelty that people inflict on each other. When I joined the X-files, I thought that Mulder's views on much of what we investigated weren't supportable in any way. It took me a long time to truly realize just how right he was, and now that I've seen the truth, I'll have a lot of trouble keeping it from him." Kirk stepped back, his hazel eyes darkening slightly. "We showed you this information so that you would understand why it is so important to withhold the truth from him. Much as I wish that it weren't true, there are still truths, even in our time, that must be withheld from the people so that their lives, and our civilization as a whole, can continue without being destroyed by what some of us know." "I see," Scully said, knowing something of the missions to which he referred, and wondering how such a man could hold up under the burden of the things that he obviously knew. "I want to read that last file before I decide for sure, but for the moment, I think that you can tell Dr. McCoy that I'll submit willingly for the memory wipe," she said, knowing that there was no other decision that she could make. "All right," Kirk said, moving toward the door. "If you need anything, feel free to contact me," he said as he stepped through the portal. "Thank you," Scully said, already turning back to the monitor. However, before she could open the file, the exhaustion that she had been fighting in order to get through the information as quickly as possible, hit her with overwhelming force. She was barely able to get to the bed in the other room before she collapsed, carried off into healing sleep by the needs of her body. When she woke, several hours later, she decided that she already knew enough to make her decision and really didn't want to know more. Her decision made, she felt no regrets when she turned off her monitor and called McCoy and Kirk to tell them that she would go through with the memory erasure. VIII. Sunday, November 8, 1997 3:36 AM GMT "Sir, we are now within range of the communications monitor that we left on Earth on our departure," Spock said from the science station. "Anything interesting?" Kirk asked. "That depends on your definition of 'interesting', sir." Spock said dryly. "There have been no messages left by our contact on Earth, and his organization seems to have been successful in its attempts at suppression of some localized reports of sightings of possible alien craft. There was, apparently, a noteworthy burst of discussion in the local media concerning the disappearance of Agents Mulder and Scully, however, our monitor has recorded reports from various official sources suggesting that they suffered serious medical difficulties as a result of the strain of their last case. These reports seem to have silenced the major media sources' discussion of the matter, and the few fringe sources concerned with the matter are generally viewed as being unreasonably paranoid by the general public." "Good," Kirk said. "At least things seem to be going well insofar as the cover story is concerned. I assume that you'll need to go back down and discuss the final arrangements with our contact?" "Correct, sir." Spock replied. "I have already attempted to contact him, and hope to have a response as soon as we enter orbit." "Very good, Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "I'll leave the final arrangements to you." "Understood, sir." Sunday November 8, 1997 7:03 AM EST The moment the door closed, Cancer man knew that this new group of aliens had returned. The flashing message counter hidden in the pattern of his screen saver was flickering with a enough frequency to show that a number of messages had come in over the closed network. There hadn't been any messages since the one that had warned him of the arrival of their landing party almost two weeks previously. After reading the message, he smiled, knowing that his plan for returning the agents to their normal lives had been understood by the aliens, and should come off without a hitch. It would satisfy any questions that Scully might ask concerning what had happened to them, and would, therefore, leave enough doubt in Mulder's mind to keep him from digging as deeply as he would need to in order to learn that there had been a cover-up concerning their "illness". As long as no one made any mistakes early on, the story should hold up quite well. However, he would need to bring his team at Pearl Harbor to full active status, and remind a few people of their oaths.... Sunday November 8, 1997 12:48 PM GMT "Now in protective orbit," said Sulu from the helm. "Understood Mr. Sulu," Spock said from the center seat. He turned his attention to the com panel in the chair's arm, and hit the toggle that would open a channel to the captain's quarters. "Bridge to Admiral Kirk," he said. "We have achieved an acceptable orbit." "I'm on my way, Spock, call a yellow alert until we're sure that no one knows that we're here." "Yes sir," Spock said, noting that Uhura's beta-shift replacement had already signaled the change in status from communications. " As soon as Kirk arrived on the bridge and had taken the Con, Spock moved to leave in order to prepare to beam to the planet's surface. "With your permission sir, I shall beam down to complete discussions for the transfer of agents Mulder and Scully with our contact, and then return to the ship for our final briefing before Dr. McCoy begins Ms. Scully's treatments." "Granted." Kirk said. "Good luck," he added before Spock could leave the bridge. Rather than reminding Kirk of the obvious illogic of such a statement, Spock simply nodded his acceptance of his friend's concern and stepped through the turbolift doors. Minutes later, he stood ready with the landing party that had accompanied him to Earth at the beginning of the mission. Sunday November 8, 1997 8:16 AM EST He sat behind his desk smoking another of the cigarettes that had become such an addiction even before the Kennedy assassination. The habit had only grown worse, and in some of his darker moments, he had the terrible feeling that he was probably Morley's best customer. It was too bad that the company didn't know that he existed, and that if they did, he would never be able to make an appearance in one of the glossy advertisements that had drawn him to the brand so long ago. He couldn't help smiling as he thought how well things were going, considering the near-disaster that had occurred only ten days previously. The agents were to be returned, and it appeared that the cover story that had been so carefully worked out would hold, assuming that the carefully arranged security and care giving organization that had been put into place could hold for another day or two. Until the aliens returned Mulder and Scully, he wouldn't know how long he would have to put off those few who actually cared what had happened to them. fortunately, he was expecting visitors who should be able to clear up the timing of the rest of the operation soon.... Moments later, the high-pitched whine of the alien teleportation device filled his office, and he rose, facing the five columns of light that quickly resolved into the beings whom he had previously met. "I assume that your retrieval operation was a success?" he asked. "It was," Spock replied. "That is good news," Cancer man said before turning to their other problem. "However, we still have to get agents Mulder and Scully back in such a way that the others won't be suspicious." "Agreed," Spock said. "However, it was my understanding that arrangements for a cover story would be your responsibility. From what we have been able to monitor, it appears that the public at large seems to have accepted the misinformation that you have generated so far." "All reports indicate that they have," Cancer man replied, taking another puff on his cigarette. "We have also made preparations for the return of the agents, and have moved their possessions to the appropriate drop off point." "I assume that this is the base hospital at the Pearl Harbor Naval station?" Spock asked. "Correct," Cancer man replied. "Very well, we can transfer the agents to that facility within twelve hours," he said. "You will do so via the method that you've used to enter my office?" "Correct," Spock said. "Can you send warning before the transfer so that we can ensure that only those personnel from the hospital who have the proper clearance will be in the vicinity?" Spock knew the reasons for the request, and was more than willing to comply. "We shall notify you via the established method." "Fine," "There is one more issue that must be discussed." "Yes?" "I believe that it is wise to remind you of our agreement concerning the memories of the two agents." "Yes, I am aware of the significance,..." Cancer man replied. "It would certainly be best for all concerned if you remember that significance should anyone wish to attempt reeducation or experimentation in the future. There is a great deal of risk associated with such activity, and I suggest that you ensure that there is a team of trustworthy specialists available who have the proper skills for any reeducation that may be necessary in future. I also believe that you understand the risk of further ... unnecessary interference with the lives of these agents?" Spock said, not needing to threaten when the truth of the matter was more than sufficient. "I understand," Cancer man said, realizing that the alien standing before him was right. Any work done on either agent could de-stabilize the blocks on their memories, an event that would, in all likelihoods, prove disastrous. "In that case, I believe that we have no further business," Spock said, as he withdrew his communicator. Cancer man simply nodded and watched the five beings who had been in his office disappear to the accompaniment of the high-pitched whine of their teleportation device. As soon as he had returned to the ship, Spock hastened to the main conference room where the ship's senior officers along with Agent Scully awaited him. "Well, Spock?" Kirk said, as soon as he entered the room. "I believe that all arrangements have been made. I have the beam-down coordinates and believe that given Dr. McCoy's skill and Agent Scully's cooperation, there will be little damage done to the time stream as we know it." "Good," Kirk said, his face moving into a satisfied grin. "Where are you going to put us down?" Scully asked. "My contact on Earth has directed us to put you into the isolation unit at the Base hospital at Pearl Harbor," Spock said. "You will be returned in a drug induced coma which you will be told that you entered on the night of the capture of the suspect in your most recent case. Though not common, such states are not unknown in humans who have been under tremendous stress, and it is hoped that you at least will believe the story that you will be given." Scully thought about it for a moment before responding. "It's just possible that both of us will accept it. Mulder was as worn out as I was at the end of that case, and although he's resistant, he'll believe that it's possible, especially considering the new bullet wound." "Good," Kirk said. "... In that case, I think that we should adjourn so that Dr. McCoy can begin his preparations." McCoy nodded as he rose to begin preparing the concoction of drugs and other technologies that he would need to wipe Scully's memory. However, before he could leave, he suddenly realized what Scully had said about the bullet wound. "Uh, Jim, I think that we have a problem," he said. "Yes Bones?" "Well, until now, I hadn't realized that there'd be a need for a scar...." "You mean that you were going to be able to release him without any sign of a wound?" Scully demanded. "That's right," McCoy said. "I thought that it'd be best if there wasn't any external sign of damage that might tell you that something had happened while you were ... sick." "Oh," Scully said, amazed that these people were able to regenerate tissue with sufficient skill to ensure that all traces of a wound could be eliminated. "Can you give him some kind of acceptable scar?" Kirk asked. "That'll be no problem," McCoy said. "It's simple plastic surgery, any of my nurses could handle it, but I'll ask Christine to take care of it so that we're sure that it looks good." "Good Job, Bones." Kirk said. After a brief pause, he waved his officers out the door, effectively dismissing them to the tasks that needed to be performed in order to get Mulder and Scully back to Earth. Sunday November 8, 6:00 PM EST "So when will the facilities that you commandeered for your damned cover-up be returned to active status?" the admiral demanded, leaning forward in hopes of intimidating the smoking bastard who had calmly walked into his office a few seconds earlier. "I can't say for sure," the man replied, blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the Admiral's face. "When we're ready to allow agents Mulder and Scully to have visitors, you'll be the first to know." "But they're not even here!" the man cried, waving a weathered hand in the air between them in vain support of both his health and the point he was trying to make. "I wouldn't speak so loudly," Cancer man replied. "One never knows who might be listening." "I'm sure that *you* know *exactly* who is listening," the other man grumbled, backing away from him. "In this case, you're quite correct," the other man replied, snuffing his cigarette out on the brand new carpet. "So when will Dana be returned?" the Admiral demanded. "Soon, I'm told," "And you expect me to pass this pack of lies off on her? She's a doctor for God's sake, and she's also known me since she was two." "We *do* expect you to 'pass this off'," Cancer man said, "Both because Ms. Scully's life depends on you doing so, and because it's your duty." "And when, exactly, did you become the expert on doing one's duty?" "Long before you and her father entered the naval academy." Cancer man replied. "I wish that I didn't have to handle things this way, but in this case it is *not* in my best interest to see agent Scully harmed. If she knew what had happened to her and to agent Mulder over the last eleven days, both her safety, and that of the planet at large, would be put at risk." Frustrated though he might be, Admiral Fredrickson had seen things that, if he ever talked about them, would probably get him thrown either into jail for treason, or the psych ward for insanity. He knew something of the operations that the smoking bastard was charged with, and although it made him truly ill to think about them, he had realized long ago that, until Earth had become stronger and more united, there was no other choice. So he could, just barely, accept the man's orders as both necessary, and the only acceptable course of action. However, it was not easy to participate in a cover-up, and keeping Bill Scully's wife out of the loop on this was almost more than he could stand. After all, the woman had been through too much of late, and worrying about her remaining daughter was obviously putting a terrible strain on her. He hoped that he would never be asked to make a choice like that again. A few seconds later, the Admiral began wondering whether the smoking SOB had developed telepathy when he demanded to know when Margaret Scully had last called him in hopes of learning something. "She called yesterday evening," he replied, his mind still somewhat adrift. "She's understandably worried about her daughter, and wants to know why neither she, nor Mulder's mother can see them." "And you told them?" "That I didn't know much, other than that there was some concern that their coma had been brought on by exposure to one of the rare pathogens that is occasionally found in the jungles here." "Very good," Cancer man replied. "The story won't hold for long, but fortunately they should be back within a few hours, and should, or so I'm told, be able to talk soon after that." "Thank God," Fredrickson replied. "You may if you like," Cancer man replied as he turned to leave. "However, I'm quite sure that, if He exists, there was no divine intervention in this case." With this parting shot, Cancer man left, giving the most powerful military commander west of Omaha Nebraska time to worry over what had happened to his god daughter. Sunday November 8, 11:45 PM GMT Scully had been sitting with Mulder for the past few hours, just taking in the comfort of his company. Dr. Chapel had pronounced the procedure that she had used to leave a credible facsimile of the scar that Mulder's wound would have left had McCoy not done his best to remove all external traces of it a complete success some hours ago, and had restarted Mulder on the depressants that McCoy had been using to make sure that he would not return to consciousness while he remained aboard ship. She had occasionally spoken to him of the things that she had seen over the past few days, glad to admit to him at least once that in so many ways she had been wrong. She had even mentioned how much this ship resembled the Star Ship Enterprise of Star Trek, and had laughingly informed him that it must be an X-file. She could not know that Spock, determined to ensure that she would not remember her experiences aboard Enterprise, had programmed the computer to monitor her language and activities for any possible key that might bypass McCoy's block on these memories. He had done a thorough job, and so the computer, responding to the directives in Spock's program, began a search in response to her reference to 'Star Trek', and began correllating it against all of the data that it had gathered on her while she was aaboard. Its work was difficult, as many of the things that she had done and said were not familiar to its programmer, and so the analysis of the confusing data was proceeding more slowly than it might have, had the conditions been more favorable. "All right," McCoy said from the next room, finally satisfied with the tremendous complex of machinery and drug stands that cluttered the central operating theater in Sick-bay. "I think that we're ready to get started." Scully rose from her position by Mulder's bedside and prepared to move around the divider that lay between the private room and the rest of the compartment. However, before she left his side, she gave his hand one final squeeze, hoping that she would remember him and all the things--both good and bad--that had happened between them over the last five and a half years. although there had been some truly horrific times, these had been more than balanced by the growth of their partnership, and the many shared experiences that they had faced together in their struggle to uncover a truth that she now understood could not yet be revealed. It did not escape her that if McCoy was successful in removing her memories of the last twelve days, she would not know that their ignorance, in this case at least, *was* bliss. "Take care, Mulder," she said, her lower lip trembling for just a moment before she finally straightened, and with professional mask in place, moved to take the bed that McCoy had waiting for her. McCoy, who had seen her take her leave of Mulder, smiled at Scully, his bedside manner fully in place. "I'm sure that you'll come out of this just fine," he said, as she swung up onto the bed. In return, Scully gave him a tight smile, and said "I hope so, Dr. McCoy," Having little else to say to this woman, whose strength he had come to respect during her brief stay, McCoy began the procedure. He knew that he could complete his task, and was confident that Mulder, whose responses--even when drugged--made it obvious that he cared for, and trusted her as much as she did him, wouldn't find anything wrong with his partner when they woke a few hours from now in the adjoining hospital beds that awaited them on Earth. Monday November 9, 1997, 12:36 AM GMT In spite of the fact that he'd been up for nearly 24 hours, Kirk was still on the bridge, waiting for the final transfer to occur. Although he'd managed to convince most of the senior officers to take some time off, Sulu and Spock remained, as he did, waiting for news from McCoy. Spock was bent over his station, continuing to monitor the media of the day, his attention flitting from screen to screen as coverage of violence in the Middle East grabbed his attention after it had been focused on a syndicated broadcast of a science fiction program from the United States. However, when all of the screens suddenly blanked, to be replaced by flashing symbols that represented a possible failure in their efforts to protect the time stream, Spock's full attention was immediately turned on this new crisis. He read through the material quickly, and then glanced at some of the video clips that the computer had, so far, been able to find on a television program from the 1960s, called 'Star Trek'. After only a few minutes, he leapt from his station, and without even asking for Kirk's permission, raced for the turbolift. Kirk, who had only seen Spock act like this once or twice during their long friendship, yelled at Sulu to take the Con as he raced to get to the 'lift before the doors could close. He barely slipped into the compartment and was still trying to steady his breathing when he heard Spock order the lift to carry them to Sick-bay. Monday November 9, 1997 12:38 AM GMT They had just passed the point of no return, and McCoy was pleased with the progress of the treatments. After beginning the course of hypnotics and other mind altering agents, he had found it comparatively easy to hypnotize Scully. In fact, considering how much trouble she'd given them early on in the mission, he was shocked at how pliant she had become. Her memories had been easy enough to locate, and he was quite far along in breaking down the neurochemical links that had been formed when they had been laid down. Although he wouldn't be able to break them completely, he felt that he'd be able to do a more thorough wipe than he had originally thought. Therefore he was understandably surprised when Spock and Kirk burst into Sick bay, demanding to know whether he could stop the procedure. "What the hell are you talkin' about, Spock?" McCoy demanded, while continuing to hit Scully's brain with the neurodisruptor's highly focused beam. "Bones," Kirk said, "Spock's just found a possible trigger in the media of the day that he thinks might reactivate Scully's memories of us." "Dammit!" McCoy swore, knowing that although his techniques were good enough to withstand most of the Twentieth Century's restorative techniques, a strong trigger would bring back at least some of the suppressed memories. "...I can't stop now, I've already gone too far, and if we stopped or took a different tack at this point, we'd risk losing most of her memory... effectively making her a blank slate. No matter what, we'll lose at least another day while I read up on other ways of handling this." "Doctor," Spock said quietly. "Given the current circumstances, I believe that it would be best to continue the procedure as you have planned it. After you have completed your work, I will go into her mind and reinforce your work with a blocking technique that should pose no danger to Ms. Scully." "So Spock, if you've got somethin' that would have done this already without my havin' to wipe her memory, why didn't you say so before!" McCoy demanded, truly furious at the Vulcan for putting his pride ahead of the safety of an innocent woman. "Unfortunately, Doctor, ..." Spock said, his body language showing just how carefully he was controlling his emotions. "...Without the support of the work that you are doing now, my additional block would be completely ineffective. However, with what you will have already done, it will add notably to the strength of your efforts." "Right," McCoy said, still not quite ready to give up his anger. "Gentlemen," Kirk said quietly from the foot of the bed. "You're both doing your best, and given past experience, I'd say that it will be more than enough as long as you stay focused on your jobs." McCoy, realizing his error, was quick to apologize. "Sorry, Spock," he said. "Its just ..." and he trailed off, looking down at the fragile-looking woman who lay unconscious on the bed. "I know, Doctor," Spock replied, "As often happens in these cases, the Admiral is correct." Knowing that, from Spock, this was a heart-felt apology, the doctor returned to his work, and Spock moved to a position from which he could monitor the progress of the doctor's efforts and prepare himself for what he must do. After McCoy had finished, Spock moved to take his place. His fingers quickly found the contact points, and he moved into her still-suggestible mind. She had not agreed to his interference, so he chose, despite a tremendous curiosity concerning the memories of a human born nearly three centuries in his past, to simply add to McCoy's work and leave. Within minutes his work was completed, and he withdrew, silently pleased that this strong, courageous human woman would have the long and prosperous life that she so richly deserved. As soon as he had exited her mind, McCoy gave her the drugs that would put her into an artificial coma along with other agents that would effectively simulate all of the symptoms of a twelve-day period of unconsciousness. With this done, the crew of the Enterprise could turn its attention to returning the agents to Earth, where it would be up to their contact's organization to ensure that the rest of the plan would come off as agreed. "I have just received a message saying that the agents will be returned within the next few minutes," Cancer man said, entering Admiral Fredrickson's office. "As the agents' parents will require some time to move from base housing to the hospital, I thought that you might want to be there for agent Scully when she wakens." Fredrickson quickly rose to go with him, knowing that the evil bastard couldn't touch this part of the operation without screwing everything up. He was glad that someone who cared about the welfare of the two young people would be there to make sure that their return to the world of the living would go as smoothly as possible. Monday, November 9, 1997 1:56 AM GMT Admiral James T. Kirk was more than a bit surprised to see just how many of his officers had turned out to see the two FBI agents off the ship. He knew that his people had come to respect these people as much as he had, and although the agents would never remember the gesture, he was pleased to know that his officers had felt as strongly as he did about making it. "Ready to energize, sir," said Janice Rand from behind the transporter console. "Energize," Kirk said, his hand moving to salute these people who had sacrificed so much in order to prepare their world for the reality that would become the Federation. He was pleased to see that all of his officers had done the same without any prompting from him, and was almost shocked to hear a murmured "live long and prosper" from Spock.
IX. Sunday November 8, 1997 9:00 PM EST He stood there watching as the light from the alien transporter overwhelmed that from his cigarette as it flared above the beds in the isolated ICU of the Pearl Harbor base hospital. This unit often saw men and women who were suffering from diseases that they had picked up on the far-distant islands of the south Pacific. Less often, it saw radiation sickness, immunodeficiency problems, and other health concerns that required the immediate isolation of the affected patient(s) from the outside world. Now, people who had, literally, gone where no one had been before were being returned, in some type of comatose state in hopes that they would believe that they had been ill, and not abducted by aliens. As soon as the teleportation process had been completed, he slipped away, leaving the medical personnel whom he had detailed for this duty to completing the work necessary to support the fiction that had been created for agents and aliens alike. His people knew their jobs, and would complete them with the efficiency characteristic of their activities when it became necessary to remove evidence, or people, that for reasons of national security, could not come to light. In fact, he suspected that they were rather enjoying the chance to save, rather than take, lives for a change. Monday November 9, 1:36 AM EST Scully groaned as she returned to consciousness. Her body was very weak, and it took her several attempts to find the energy necessary to open her eyes and look around herself. When she did, she quickly realized that she was in a hospital room that had been set up for isolation. However, the fact that there were people in the room who were not wearing protective gear told her that whatever she had encountered had proven to be less dangerous than had originally been thought. "Where am I?" she croaked, her mouth incredibly dry. "Dana, You're in the ICU at Pearl Harbor Hospital," someone replied from outside of her field of vision. However, she didn't need to be able to see the person to know that it was her "Uncle Bob" the man who had been one of her parents' closest friends while her father had been alive. "How did I get here?" she asked, after someone had given her a glass of water. "You were brought in thirteen days ago after you and your partner captured the Wikeke Whacker." Fredrickson said, moving to stand by the side of her bed. "Thirteen days?" Scully asked, not quite willing to believe her ears. "Yes, Dana," he said quietly. "You collapsed from exhaustion, and your partner was shot. Pearl Harbor was the closest medical facility to your location, and as we weren't sure what had happened to you, it was decided to put you in isolation until we knew that you were clear of some of the biologicals that occasionally pop up around here. Since Pearl Harbor has better isolation units than the civilian hospitals in Honolulu, it was best to have you brought here in any case." "Why did we need to be isolated for a coma?" Scully asked, "after all, they're not usually something that is easily transmitted." "I know," her god father replied. "It wasn't the coma that we were worried about specifically, but rather the possibility that it had been caused by something other than either injury or exhaustion. Fortunately, it looks like you're clear of any disease that might have been capable of causing you to go into a coma." Scully sighed, glad that she and Mulder wouldn't have to spend several more weeks in isolation. They'd done that once already, and once was more than enough for her. "So do they have any idea why I was under so long?" "It looks like you just wore yourself out and you simply collapsed." Although unusual, comas of this type were not unknown, and, for the moment, Scully was satisfied by the explanation. When she had given herself a chance to recover, she'd ask to see their charts to confirm what her god father had been told. "What about Mulder?" she asked, only now remembering being told that he had been shot. "It was close, Dana, he nearly bled to death, and he's just barely come around himself. He's in the bed across from you," Fredrickson said. Scully turned quickly, relieved to see Mulder, apparently sleeping peacefully, within arm's reach. She smiled and then turned back to her father's closest friend, who had not missed the obvious change in her body language that had occurred once she was sure that Mulder was well on the road to recovery. "Thanks for taking care of things for us," she said, knowing that it had probably required a good deal of string-pulling to ensure that they would be able to stay here rather than be transported to some mainland hospital that would be more easily accessible to experts from the Centers for Disease Control and/or the NIH. "I wouldn't have had it any other way," he said, smiling softly. "Anyway, it was the least that I could do for my favorite god daughter." Monday November 9, 1997 8:35 AM EST After her god father left, Scully went back to sleep, her body still exhausted by whatever had happened to her. Like most parents of children who have chronic diseases, Scully had learned to sleep lightly whenever her partner was in the hospital and this time was no different. His first movements and the response of the medical staff assigned to watch them brought her to full consciousness in seconds. "Whaaaah??" he asked, before the obligatory water could be given to him. When it had, he tried again. "What happened?" he said, after noticing both the hospital decor and the gorgeous brunette who was leaning over him, full breasts straining delightfully against her uniform. "You've been in a coma Mulder," Scully said from where she lay. "That's right, Fox," the nurse said engagingly. "Oh," Mulder said, his face crinkled into the look that Scully knew meant that he was doing his best to replay what had happened before he lost consciousness. However, when he hadn't come out of his reverie some fifteen seconds later, Scully became concerned, knowing that it never took him long to remember anything. "Scully," he said quietly, "I remember most of the day ... October 26th, I think, and remember thinking that you were doing an amazing job of getting the clues put together, but I don't remember anything after about 8:00 that night." "To be honest Mulder, I don't remember much from about noon on the Twenty-seventh on. I don't even remember capturing the suspect, but my god father told me that we had captured him, and that you'd been shot. Maybe it's just the drugs that they gave you for that, or the shock caused by the injury itself." "Maybe," Mulder said, clearly not fully convinced by Scully's theory. "What's wrong, Mulder?" she asked, hearing his skepticism and for some reason liking it even less than she usually did. "It's just ..," he said, obviously not sure how to continue. However, after a brief pause, he said, "It's just that I have the feeling that some things happened during that time that I can't remember clearly. I kind of remember an ultralight, and something about a clearing in a forest, but the memories, if that's what they are, aren't very clear, and don't seem to be connected to anything solid." "It was probably a dream," Scully said. "People who are in coma for a long time often have dream-like phases just before they come out. We're both so weak that I'm not surprised that at least one of us is having a few problems readjusting to things." "Are you sure?" Mulder asked, the doubt still clear in his voice. "Yes, Mulder, I'm sure," Scully said, more to get his mind off of the problem than out of any inborn sense of surety. "OK," he said, settling back into his bed, and happily watching the tall, busty brunette move about the room and then becoming slightly disappointed when she left. Scully, who had seen his eyes following the woman as she performed her tasks, sighed and lay back, that slight pang of jealousy and regret that always hit her during such flights of fancy by her partner, touching her mind. "What?" Mulder asked, having heard the sigh. "It's just good to see that you're already recovering so quickly," Scully said, trying to cover her sigh. Mulder knew that he'd been caught ogling the nurse, but couldn't resist teasing his partner. "Well, Scully, I'd be happy to 'play doctor' with you, if you'd like," he said with a somewhat watered down version of his usual playful leer. She blushed, but in the tradition of the game, said: "Not this time, Mulder, I have a headache." "Oh well," he sighed, grinning at both her discomfort, and the feeling of comfortable familiarity Wednesday November 11, 1997 The Star Ship Enterprise somewhere in interstellar space As he waited for his officers to arrive at the E-deck conference room for the final mission debriefing, James T. Kirk sighed with relief, the knowledge that the mission was nearly over beginning to take hold in his conscious mind. He was aware that they still needed to make the harrowing transition back to their own time and that, consequently, the mission was not truly over. However, he also wanted to be sure to deal with some of the details of the mission before they could be swept aside by other, more immediate, tasks. He also knew that the rest of the details of the mission would be dealt with in a highly secret, Admirals only, meeting at Star Fleet headquarters, and therefore, that he could deal with the parts of the mission that had affected his ship directly at this point without fear of censure. When all of his officers had straggled into the briefing room, Kirk began the meeting. "Mr. Spock, we've just stayed in near-Earth space for three days monitoring their communications to ensure that the cover story has a good chance of holding. Your final action report on this part of the mission?" "Admiral, it would appear that agents Mulder and Scully have chosen to accept what they have been told. It is impossible to be absolutely certain that they will not encounter triggers that we could not defend against while repressing Ms. Scully's memory. We will only know this when we return to our time." "Very good, Mr. Spock." Kirk said. "What about the trigger that you feared would result from Agent Scully watching that old vid program?" "I have been carefully researching the cultural phenomenon known as Star Trek, a television program that ultimately spawned five spin-off series along with a half billion dollar per year entertainment industry including conventions, paraphernalia, and program resales on video cassettes amongst other industries. The show's creator, one Gene Roddenberry, has been viewed as a visionary by those who followed the lives of the characters that he created, and although it is certainly possible that he had assistance from our time in developing his ideas, I am most reasonably certain that his first series and our reality are simply extremely parallel without any cross-connection between them. Obviously it is possible that Mr. Roddenberry could have received information about the future, but if he did, he would have had to be extremely careful to protect it, and in some ways, his reality diverges--in detail if not in fact--from our own. For instance, the eugenics wars of the 1990s, did not happen. However, it *is* known that genetic experiments were carried out at this time, and that at least some of them had purposes similar to those stated in his television epic. There are other differences in detail, which, I believe, can be used as solid evidence to support a theory based on an unusually high level of parallelism and nothing more. The fans of Mr. Roddenberry's 'universe' as devotees of science fiction referred to the various entertainment serials of this time, were, in many ways, correct in thinking of him as a visionary. His work was one of the first science fiction serials to present a positive vision of the future, and his characters, developed a synergy that many felt was more 'natural' than the other "science fiction" series of the day. It is possible that The Roddenberry vision may have been critical in stabilizing what remained of Earth's culture during and after Colonel Green's war during the Twenty-first Century. Ultimately, I am only certain of the fact that there is a high degree of parallelism between 'Star Trek' and our reality. The causes are uncertain, but the effect of the television show on the culture and civilization of late Twentieth Century Earth can not be denied." "I see," Kirk said, knowing that Spock had done all that he could to research his report. "You're sure that Ms. Scully won't be triggered by watching the show?" "Yes sir," replied Spock and McCoy in stereo. After a glance between the two of them, McCoy picked up the thread of their report. "I was able to wipe her memory more thoroughly than I thought I'd be able to. As you know, Jim, Spock added a secondary block which is intended as a subconscious switch that will cause her to go to sleep if she's exposed to a factor that triggers her memories in a way that we couldn't account for through the work that I did." McCoy said. "Are you sure that it'll work?" Kirk asked, fearful that they might have to go back in order to reinforce the work that his officers had already done. "You know Spock, Jim. The thing is a piece of work, and it should hold up well, and be sufficiently innocuous to ensure that she won't try to find out what's 'wrong' with her." McCoy replied, the confidence that he had in the work that they had done clear in his voice and body language. "Good," Kirk said, switching his focus toward another facet of the problem that had brought them back in time. "...What about the Vulcan ship?" "It continues on course, and should arrive in the Epsilon Aridoni system in approximately thirty-seven days." Spock said. "Will the crew remember enough to warrant an investigation?" "Possibly," Spock said. "However, as I noted at the beginning of the mission, such investigations were carried out under extremely tight security, and their results, if any, have never been released." "Good enough," Kirk said, knowing that such an investigation would produce a slight, but still noticeable, change in the time stream. However, there was nothing that they could have done differently, and so he had to hope that with the Organians' intervention, it would be enough. "Fine," he said. "is there anything else?" As there was nothing, everyone began to prepare to leave. However, before they could file out, the third watch helm officer's image popped up on the briefing room view screen. "Sir, we've entered the neighborhood of St. Peter's Star. ... awaiting first-watch officers for time conversion course calculations," she said. "Understood," we're on our way." Kirk said as he rose to accompany his officers to The Bridge. Monday November 16, 1997, 9:30 AM EST "So why, exactly, have you brought us here again?" demanded the Englishman with the carefully manicured fingernails. "I asked everyone to come here because we've had a first contact with another alien race." Cancer man replied. "I'd thought that something was happening over here," The Well-manicured Man said quietly. "What do they want of us?" "Nothing, other than that we stop all experiments on Mulder and Scully," Cancer man replied. "You know that is impossible," his superior replied. "Nevertheless, we'd better be damned sure to cancel anything that we've got planned. They implied that if we didn't, either our benefactors, or other forces out there might feel the need to enforce the Roswell treaty." Cancer man saw the glances flit about the table, and knew, in some detail, what his colleagues were thinking. "I think that you'd better start from the beginning so we can make a decision," said their Well-Manicured superior. After telling the story, including the use of several transcripts of tapes that he had secretly made, Cancer man sat back to await the response of his colleagues. "Well," the representative from Germany said with a sigh. "Its obvious that we aren't going to be able to continue the experimental work that Mr. Nakazashi had planned for Ms. Scully." "What do you mean?" Nakazashi demanded, rising to his feet. "We in the east have always felt that the mind is a key to physical and mental well-being, and now you're telling me that our best opportunity to study the long-term effects of our experimental work on someone who survived it through the force of her personality alone is lost?" "I believe that is what the man said," agreed the Well-manicured man. "I refuse to give up such an opportunity," Nakazashi said. "I don't think that we have a choice in the matter. We can, I'm sure, find people like agent Scully." Cancer man said. "Yes, but that will take years!" "Then it'll have to take as long as it takes, we just can't afford any other way." "But...." "No, he's right," sighed the Well-manicured man. "Further, we're going to have to be very careful about reeducating them should that prove necessary in the future. I think that it would be best if we had a point person with all of the resources necessary to make sure that whatever they hold in their minds stays behind the blocks that the new aliens installed." "Agreed," said the German. "It seems obvious to me that our American colleague should be that person as he has to spend the most time working against them, and has reestablished some temporary control over their supervisor." "I'll be happy to do it," Cancer man said, knowing that his colleagues would have forced him into it, had he not felt that this was the only acceptable solution already. "Very well," Sighed the Englishman. "Are there any other situations that have arisen since our last meeting?" The German stood, ready to begin his report on a new advancement in propulsion theory that had been made based on technology on loan to German scientists from a Vegan ship that had crashed in Canada in 1965. Cancer man, who had warned his colleagues of his previously arranged meeting with the primary observer for Mulder and Scully left to reacquaint himself with the woman who had been a key part of his plan to distract Mulder since his return from ... wherever he and Scully had been. Monday November 16, 1997 2:36 PM EST "Yes, sir," said the tall brunette standing before the desk in his New York office. "He seems to have gone for Scully's explanation of events, and has been ... diverted by his attendants from time to time. On his first morning, I believe that ... I ... was rather distracting to him, but the effect seems to have worn off over the last few days." "You were distracting to him?" Cancer man asked, somewhat surprised that his agent had realized Mulder's preference in women. "Yes, sir." she said with a small laugh, "He seems to like tall brunettes, something that clearly bothers his partner, but which they have never discussed." "I see," he said, putting the news of the increasing level of Scully's possible displeasure concerning Mulder's preferences in female company away for possible use in the future. "I expect that they will fly back to the mainland in a few days, but obviously your part in this operation is complete. You may expect to be reassigned as soon as you are needed. Until then, you're welcome to take some time off and get some rest. I'm sure that the last few weeks have been rather tiring," he said, glad that this "nurse" who was actually one of his best scientists, would not have to be wasted in an attempt to use her obvious charms to distract Mulder from trying to find out what had happened. Losing such an operative to what could turn into a long-term mission whose primary component would be spying on the man, was a complication that he was very glad to avoid. Fortunately, her words brought him back to the matter at hand before his inattention became obvious. "They have, sir." she said. "I'm not sure where I'll go, but I'll be ready for recall at a moment's notice." "Very well," he said. "As usual you've done a tremendous job, and I'll be sure to make note of it in your record." "Thank you sir," she said as she left his office. Monday November 23, 1997 3:30 PM EST "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully, it's good to have you back at work." Skinner said, hoping that this meeting wouldn't last very long. "Thank you sir," they chorused. "As you know, your paperwork for your last case has already been completed." Skinner said, hoping to get through this issue as quickly as possible." "Why sir?" Mulder asked. "We needed to have a logical presentation of the facts for the public relations people in Honolulu, so ASAC Morgan had his people go through your field notes and set up a report. If you have any objections to what his people did, you're welcome to make any corrections to the copy that will be archived here." "Thank you sir," said Scully. "However, as we've missed nearly a month, and had several investigations on-going when we were ordered to go to Hawaii, I'd like to let the report wait for a while if you don't mind." Mulder looked at her, his expression only barely hiding the shock that he felt at his partner's willingness to overlook the rules. However, he was no fool, and if his partner was willing to overlook bureau procedures in a way that would get them out of doing a bunch of paperwork that had already been done, he wasn't going to fight over her decision. "I'm willing to go along with Agent Scully on this one, sir," he said. "I'm sure that if we run out of other paperwork that we can go over it later." "True," Skinner agreed, glad that he wouldn't have to deal with the issue anymore. "Your next case is already in your office, so unless you have something else that needs my attention you may go," he said, picking up a case from VCS that he needed to review before sending it to the archives. "Thank you sir," Mulder and Scully replied simultaneously as they picked up their things and headed for the door. Star date 7441.6: The Star Ship Enterprise in interstellar space. Captain's log, Star date 7441.6. We have returned from the past to a future that is, so far as we are able to discern, exactly as it was before the Klingons attempted to destroy it. The Organians have contacted both this vessel and Star Fleet Command in order to tell us that they are satisfied with the way in which we carried out our mission. The Organians have also reported that they are still trying to decide which race is most likely to have been able to shield the activities of the renegade Klingon Commander in order to prevent them from being able to deflect his attempt to destroy the Federation. In spite of having successfully completed our mission, I have a number of misgivings and questions that I suspect will never be answered. Probably the most important of these is what is in the file that Agent Scully chose not to read. It is within my rights as an admiral in Star Fleet Command to read the file myself, but having met the woman whose life, in some way, is encapsulated there, I don't feel that I have the right to do so. Mr. Spock has continued to investigate the events surrounding our mission, and the people who were so important to the preparation of Earth for its place in the modern-day interstellar community. He reports that although there are gaps in our knowledge due to the wars of the early Twenty-First Century, he is "as sure as the available data permits," that Agents Mulder and Scully suffered few if any ill-effects from their time aboard the Enterprise, and that their partnership continued--in varying forms--for the rest of their lives. Unfortunately, my chance to interact with Agent Mulder was limited and so I don't feel that my comments would add anything of value to those of Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock insofar as he is concerned. However, I can speak to the dedication to him, and to the cause that he represented that his partner obviously had when she was aboard ship. I can also speak to her own independence, strength, and determination to make the right decision, no matter the cost to herself, that marks her as one of the more memorable personages ever to have come aboard this ship. From everything that McCoy and Spock have said, it is clear that both were truly great people, whose work, though poorly timed so far as Earth's readiness for it was concerned, was done according to the highest principles and with the greatest determination. I count myself lucky to have known Agent Mulder for a brief time, and Agent Scully for nearly two weeks. I can only hope that their work gave them as much fulfillment as my work does me and that their partnership gave them as much strength as I have shared with my officers. If they had this kind of special relationship, I am certain that they found happiness in the midst of the truly critical work that they did in order to prepare the people of Earth for their place in the stars.
"There are few ironclad rules of diplomacy but to one there is no exception.When an official reports that talks were useful, it can safely be concluded that nothing was accomplished."--John Kenneth Galbraith. |