Former PWE Community Team Lead
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 9,046
Hello and welcome to another edition of our writers' challenges!

Today we start the two-week run of the thirty-eighth Literary Challenge: We'll Always Have New York
You and your crew recently experienced an anomaly while observing a star that caused "subspace folds" that have never been observed before. As the phenomenon seemed to pass through your ship, it temporarily placed you and your crew back in time in New York City, United States (you pick the time period, bonus points for writing as a Klingon ). Write a Captain's Log entry about the experience, and how you returned to the correct place in time and space.
This is the writer's thread -- only entries should be made here.
The Discussion Thread can be found HERE.
We also have an Index of previous challenges HERE.

The rules may change from one challenge to another, but I'd like to remind everyone what the base rules are. These may grow as we move on, so also feel free to give feedback!
  • Each Challenge will run for two weeks. For 2 weeks we will sticky the challenge and let you make your entry.
  • There are no right or wrong entry.
  • The background story, questions I ask, and format requested are only to serve as a platform that you can start your writing from. Feel free to change up the back-story or the way you deliver, as long as the entry stays on topic of the original challenge.
  • Write as little or as much as you would like.
  • Please keep discussion about the entries in the appropriate Discussion Thread.
  • In the Discussion Thread, feel free to write what inspired you and what your thoughts on the topic are.
  • A few other important reminders:
    • Please heed the rest of the forum's rules when submitting your entry! All of them apply to these posts.
    • Each poster can have one entry. Feel free to edit your post to fix typos or add/ remove content as you see fit during the next two weeks.
    • After two weeks time, the thread will be locked and unstickied, as we move on to the next challenge.
    • We'll have two threads: One to post the entries in and one to discuss the entries. **Cross-linking between these two threads is acceptable for these challenges ONLY!!**
Brandon "BranFlakes" Felczer | Former Community Team Lead for Perfect World Entertainment

Last edited by pwebranflakes; 02-05-2013 at 05:57 PM.
Join Date: Nov 2012
Posts: 63
# 2
02-05-2013, 08:36 PM
Challenge #38: End of an Era
Captain's Log, Star Date... considering when and where we were, September third, 1945...

The Manticore was observing a star causing unusual gravimetric waves in the Sirius Sector block.

T'kek our science officer was monitoring a strange shift in the poles of the star when the ship was struck by a strange energy wave, later we would find out it was a new type of subspace fold.

Several EPS conduits exploded and despite a plasma fire on deck ten no lives were lost, though our doctor was less than pleased to be interrupted from his first night off to handle the problem.

Supplemental: Requisition a case of Romulan Ale for the doctor.

Continuing, when the ships systems came back online we attempted to contact Star Fleet and were concerned there were no beacons or signal coming from Earth.

I ordered the helm to make our best speed there to see if there was an issue.

Upon arrival, the lack of Earth Space Dock, Utopia Planetia, the lunar colony and any satellites surrounding the planet came as a surprise.

After listening to the radio broadcasts of the time, we realized this was an important day in the planets history and we would be foolish to not observe it more closely.

Myself and my first officer Syren made use of a pair of holographic emitters in order to blend in a bit easier, while New Yorkers have been said to ignore and accept most anything. I highly doubted they were ready to see an Orion Female.

I dressed as a sailor and she appeared as a dark haired nurse, we beamed down into an alleyway and walked out onto the main street, people were celebrating, I grabbed a news paper seeing the headline of Peace I smirked. This was the official end of Earth's Second World War.

As Syren and I looked around we noticed a man with a camera taking various pictures of the celebrating people, now as a buff of this time period I knew there was a picture that was synonymous with this date and specifically this place in New York. But where were they? sighing and realizing how much I truly despise the Temporal Prime Directive and paradoxes in general I did my duty and grasped Syren by the waist dipped her back and kissed her deeply? as I saw the flash go off I stood back up and wondered just what she was going to say in regards to this.

After she stopped blushing and mumbling about getting a repeat performance we went back to an alleyway to contact the ship.

My Chief Engineer and Science officers had come up with a plan. Apparently the polar switch that affected the Manticore and crew was simply rare not new. The star we had been watching was currently giving off the same distortions that had started this mission to begin with. Prior to the wave hitting we would need to send a deflector pulse of equal and opposite frequency. They theorized it would send us back where we belonged.

Upon returning the ship we warped to the star and repeated what happened and prayed it got us home.

Just as T?kek noticed the shift in poles, we released the pulse, the same wave encompassed the ship, once again a few conduits blew but this time there were no casualties.

Supplemental: Remind the doctor of overdue poker debt.

As soon as we were able, we contacted Star Fleet and set course for Earth Space Dock for repairs and to report on our mission.

Supplemental: Do Orions enjoy Saurian Brandy?
End Captains Log
Career Officer
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 104
# 3
02-06-2013, 05:10 PM
Captain's Log, Stardate: Unknown - Earthdate: April 5th 2063

The Retribution has been ordered to assist U.S.S. Rhode Island in making scans of a highly unstable graviton star. However, when we arrived at the RV co-ordinates, only a duranium shadow remained of the Rhode Island.
My science officer surmised that it had been sent through time; where and when was a slight harder to discover. We were eventually able to determine that the missing ship, commanded by Captain Harry Kim, had been sent back to the years after earth's 3rd World War - and the day that Zefram Cochrane launched the Phoenix.

We had planned to send a multi-spatial probe into the star, in order to determine the time period in which the Rhode Island was in. However, my executive officer had informed my that the probe may not survive. Running out of time - and options - I summoned the senior staff to the conference room for an emergency meeting.

"Does anybody have any useful suggestions into HOW we're going to get Capt. Kim and his crew out of there?", Starfleet Admiral George Aubrey asked.
"I don't think we can do much about that right now, sir. The star is becoming increasingly unstable from the latest scans," Reman science officer T'Kek replied.
"Short of taking the ship through the pulses, there isn't anything we CAN do to help the Rhode Island", said the chief engineer.*

*will continue
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 2,191
# 4
02-06-2013, 05:51 PM
Tales of Alyosha Strannik
"One More Candle"

Personal Log of Captain Alexei Ivanovich Strannik, Encrypted.

It's easy to talk about the Temporal Prime Directive. About the moments in history where the most wildly-diverging timelines converge and then break apart--the temporal loci that send out shock waves forwards and backwards in time by the sheer gravity of what happened there. And how those compression waves have a way of drawing people caught in temporal anomalies into or around the most chaotic time frames--places of impending tragedy where the worst...and also the very best in people will soon be displayed for all to see.

It's also easy to speculate about why we wound up on Earth from all the way in the Tau Dewa block--perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I exist partially in another phase, or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that elsewhere in the United States during that time frame, I 'slept' underground in stasis, still waiting for the geologists to come and awaken me.

But all of that is reduced to academics' talk when it actually happens, and you find yourself suddenly swept from shouting a warning to a shuttle crew to raise shields and flee the temporal anomaly scanners had just revealed--and that you can sense all over you, and then you're swept back in time and place.

And then you look up...and up...a bit to the right...and up even further, and you realize exactly what the enormous shadow is that blocks the sun from your view: a place so majestic and yet so few, in the scheme of time, ever had the chance to witness in full glory as I now have.

That this is the world that adopted me...not the world of my birthright...doesn't matter in a time and a place like this. One that engenders such reverence and such mourning all at once. We can look at monuments and reflect upon tragedies past, parse them at a safe distance--but the awful, helpless foreknowing of actually standing in that shadow simply cannot be adequately expressed.

Commander th'Valek shielded us quickly enough with his illusions; to those passing by, we were nothing more than another set of average tourists or perhaps commuters on foot. And that meant we saw at close proximity the vitality in this place. Utterly vibrant. Utterly fragile.

This I will never forget: I saw them exit and walk by, just heading home from a day's work.

We had to return to our time, those of us of Earth in one way or the other with aching hearts as we walked among the heroes of ordinary life.

The temporal compression waves were growing exponentially stronger--and with the right tuning of our equipment it was clear that we would very soon be swept away, back home, well before morning, and all we could do was wait in silent vigil.

One change I did make, as we waited in the place history told me would be safe even if our calculations were wrong. There in St. Paul's Chapel, one more votive candle burned, soon to stand against the dark.

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Last edited by gulberat; 02-06-2013 at 05:59 PM.
Lt. Commander
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 147
# 5 Miles O'Brien's Funeral
02-06-2013, 09:14 PM
The duffel bag was only hallway full. As he continued packing, Chief Engineer Yair Hillel continued his personal log entry. "First officer T'Panna and I are headed to Zyin IV in the Gamma Quadrant to honor a fallen hero - Miles Edward O'Brien. After retiring from teaching at the Academy, he moved to the Gamma Quadrant to help the small settlements that sprang up after we ended hostilities with the Dominion. His death was fitting in a way - he died pulling people out of the wreckage of a crashed shuttle.

"His widow Keiko insisted that the official funeral and burial be performed on Zyin IV, and the admiralty agreed. I am going because he was my favorite instructor at the Academy. T'Panna is going because her roommate serves on a Corps of Engineers ship and will be attending. All I can say is that I wish I had a chance to say goodbye to him." He paused for a moment. "End recording."

Satisfied with the half-full duffel bag, he zipped it up, lifted it, and started walking towards the door. Then he dropped the bag, smiled, and said, "Computer, transport me to the shuttlecraft Firefly, authorization Hillel Tango Epsilon Eight."


T'Panna entered Shuttlebay One and was shocked to find Hillel sitting in the shuttle. "You have reformed now? This is the first time I've seen you early for a departure in the entire time I've been known you. If this wasn't for a funeral I would say that you are meeting a former love there."

Hillel took his feet off of the control panel and sat up straight. "Good morning to you too, Commander. Are you ready for a seventeen hour ride in this small shuttle?"

It took four hours to reach Deep Space Nine, followed by two hours waiting in the queue to pass through the wormhole. T'Panna wondered if Starfleet had gathered this many ships in the area since the Dominion War. This time there was a wide variety of vessels - mainly shuttles and runabouts, but also several large capital ships. O'Brien had definitely made a lasting impression on the fleet.

The wormhole was as majestic as she imagined. How could something like this be so stable for decades? Then the ship jerked violently and she was flung from her seat.


Hillel noticed T'Panna on the ground, determined that she was not severely injured, and checked the instruments. The forward viewscreen showed a hazy city at what appeared to be night. Hillel rubbed his eyes and confirmed that Firefly was rushing towards the ground at an alarming rate. "Maybe I've found where the Prophets live here in the wormhole," he muttered.

T'Panna mumbled an insult and strapped herself in. "That planet shouldn't be there," she said through bleeding lips.

As soon as Hillel realized that a crash was inevitable, he adjusted the heading to make the crash as smooth as possible. "I'm aiming for the field near that barn a few kilometers away," he said as the buildings came within a few hundred meters. Something seemed odd about the place...and then they collided with the barn.

The impact knocked Hillel unconscious. He woke up to the smell of blood. A large animal was lodged into the port side of the shuttle, right on top of where T'Panna should be. Hillel scrambled to free himself and then realized he couldn't help her. T'Panna's neck was twisted at an odd angle and a several hundred kilogram animal - a cow? - was on top of her. What a terrible way to die, he thought.

The aft compartment of the shuttle was on fire. Hillel scrambled out of the shuttle and took an inventory of the situation. He was alone in a field near a poorly-developed city on an unknown world. The buildings all appeared to be made of wood. This must be a small farm, he thought.

Then something in the shuttle exploded, knocking him down to his hands and knees.


There was no stopping the fire after the explosion. All of the nearby buildings were set ablaze by the flying debris. Hillel's training in emergency management kicked in. It was time to knock down doors and tell people to leave.

Hours flew by as the situation grew more desperate. This planet's star was under the horizon, but the fire made it look like broad daylight. As the blocks flew under his feet, a few clues started to form together in his mind. He could read the signs and understand the people. His combadge had fallen off hours ago, but the language was familiar. The motor vehicles looked like something out of an ancient history lesson. Could those really be combustion engines?

In an alley he found a newspaper and picked it up. It was The Chicago Daily Tribune, dated Sunday, October 8, 1871. T'Panna had become the first Vulcan - well, quarter-Vulcan anyway - to die on Earth as the shuttlecraft Firefly started the Great Chicago fire.

The weight of this revelation sunk in. It felt like the atmosphere had thickened and gravity had doubled. All he wanted to do was sit down and cry. Had his actions really caused one of the greatest tragedies in American history? How was this possible?

Relentless in their pursuit, the flames - his flames, his devastation brought from the future - caught up to Hillel. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man rush into a building that was clearly about to collapse. Remorse can wait. He ran over to help.

The man came back out carrying a small child. "There are three more in there," the man said. He briefly made eye contact. Hillel was shocked to see the eyes of Miles O'Brien.

Before Hillel could say anything, O'Brien had entered the flaming building. The child had run off, so Hillel was free to go in. As he took his third step into the building, Hillel saw the second floor of the building start collapse all around him. A quick dive brought him outside as the building fell inward.

The child came back and grabbed Hillel's shoulder. "He saved my life and died a hero," the girl said. Then another hand grabbed Hillel's other shoulder. "He saved my life too." "And mine," a third voice said. Suddenly he was in a swarm of children, clothes ruined but otherwise unharmed. They were all praising O'Brien.

Hillel stood up and examined the crowd. There were probably fifty children standing in the street as the city burned. Then the impossible happened - again? - and the crowd parted for O'Brien to pass. His curly hair was singed and blood was on his bare arms, but he held eye contact with Hillel. "I made a difference with my life. Will you?"

Another hand grabbed Hillel. This one was so strong that it pulled him to the ground. He looked up and saw T'Panna in a perfectly clean uniform. There was no blood, no death, and in a moment of honesty he found her attractive. They were onboard the shuttle Firefly again.

"Chief, what is wrong? Can you hear me?" She continued to poke at his shoulder. Hillel gently grabbed her hand, held it in his, and replied.

"I think I just heard from the Prophets."

Last edited by superhombre777; 02-06-2013 at 09:22 PM.
Career Officer
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 2
# 6 #6 We'll always Have New York
02-07-2013, 11:56 AM
"Here you go, sir," said the young girl as she placed the ceramic mug of coffee on the small table in front of me. Steam carried the earthy aroma of the dark liquid into the air.

"Thank you," I replied, smiling up at her.

The barista was a young girl, no more than 19 or 20 years old by my guess. Her neon hair was braided into a thick ponytail that draped down her back. She had on a dark polo shirt and green apron, a white name-tag read 'Zoe.'

"First time in New York?" Zoe asked.

"I guess you could say that. Does it show?" I almost wanted to laugh as I pondered the absurdity of the truth. I may be as human as she is, but these people could barely launch themselves into space while I had traveled across half the quadrant in just the past month alone.

"Yeah, a little." She spoke in a strong accent, then added as an after thought, "Make sure you see the sights while you're here. There's a fantastic pizza joint not far from here in Chelsea!"

"Thanks, I'll see if I can make the time," I acknowledged slyly.

Oblivious to my little joke, she turned and returned to her work. I looked around at the various people gathered in the small dining area, enjoying a beverage or snack before returning to the floating museum docked only about 30 meters away in the Hudson River. I observed my two companions enter through the double glass doors of the main entrance. They took a moment to survey the cafe before noticing me and moving to join me at the table. Orin Ryce--my Chief Engineer and a friend with whom I had shared a dorm room with at the Academy--lead to distance across the cafe. It was entertaining seeing the two of them in period specific garb.

"You wouldn't believe how much trouble we had finding it," Orin said, taking an open seat. "It was massive! Even with a tricorder I couldn't get more than about a percent of it."

Kelsi Ty--my first officer--took a seat opposite her human counterpart. As she looked at me I could see my own reflection, framed in bright pink plastic, in the large lensed sunglasses she wore. I wanted to chuckle a little bit at how silly she looked as the oversized glasses obscured much of her face.

"But we have the information we need, right?" I asked, composing myself.

"Affirmative, Admiral," Kelsi replied.

"Took a little Borg intervention from Three to sift through all that data without getting caught though," Orin informed, nodding in recognition towards her. Kelsi rarely let people refer to her by that designation anymore, but Orin and I were among those exceptions.

"Any issues getting access?" I asked, taking a sip from the beige mug.

"Are you kidding?" Orin smirked. He continued as though the next thought were as obvious to the rest of the group. "There isn't a security system on the planet that can stand against two Starfleet engineers, especially when one is a genius and the other is half Borg."

I just shook my head a little at my friend.

"Your modesty not withstanding, good job you two," I commended. "As for me, the great 21st-century scavenger hunt went well. I'm reasonably sure I was able to find everything we need to assemble the transponder. It'll be crude, but should work."

I reached down and lifted the brown canvas messenger bag that had been sitting at my feet and laid it on the table. Kelsi took the bag and peered inside, examining the various contents as Orin and I watched on.

Finally, as if pleased with my wares, she looked up and announced, "I agree. These items are acceptable. These components, in conjunction with the technical schematics we acquired, will allow me to modify my cortical implant for the desired effect."

"Great, get started," I ordered. "We probably shouldn't linger in this time longer than necessary."

I took another sip of the coffee and watched as Kelsi again sifted through the contents of the bag, setting a few items aside. Orin fidgeted in his chair a little as if debating what he wanted to say next. I didn't have to wait long, the young man wasn't known for censoring his thoughts.

"I'm still a little unclear how you knew that we could even find schematics for a temporal transceiver in a 400 year old computer database," he paused to consider his next comment. "I mean, Chronowerx Industries folded over a decade ago when their CEO inexplicably disappeared. Its been bought and sold half a dozen times and carved up more than twice that. There is no way any of this information will survive to our century."

"Just a story my Dad told me once," was all I would share with my colleague.

There was a long and awkward pause as Orin glared at me.

"Right..." was all he finally responded, clearly dissatisfied with my answer.

Kelsi seemed to ignore the conversation, fixated on her task. She had since opened up her tricorder and begun analyzing the technical schematics of the tiny transceiver she was constructing.

"Well, I'm beyond ready to get out of here. All this traffic and noise is driving me crazy," Orin complained, staring out the cafe windows at the busy boulevard just outside. "I miss the soft drum of my engines."

I had to admit, as much as I found this era fascinating, the past week in early 21st-century New York had made me long for the familiarity of the Odin. Nothing felt more like home to me than the bridge of my Galaxy-class starship. I wondered to myself how much time had passed for the rest of my ship and crew since the collapse of that star had displaced Orin, Kelsi, and I.

"I for one am tired of these ridiculous optical filters," Kelsi muttered, the first real acknowledgement of the banter going on between Orin and myself. She never even looked up from what she was doing as she spoke. "Based upon my observations, its unlikely any of the native population would have taken notice of my ocular implant."

I shrugged slightly, not entirely disagreeing with her.

"Maybe, but there's no reason to risk it either," Orin smirked. He was having too much fun to let it go. "Besides, I think they work for you!"

Even with the enormous glasses obscuring her eyes, I knew my Borg officer was glaring sideways in Orin's direction. She wasn't the most emotionally expressive individual I had ever known, but over the years I had learned to read her. I decided to change the subject and thus keep Kelsi focused on her construct.

"It's a shame we can't risk exploring this era more," I intervened. From our vantage point in the cafe, we could observe the comings and goings of pedestrians as they went about their lives. "These people are on the verge of some incredible social and economic changes."

Now it was Orin's turn to glare, this time in my direction.

"Don't romanticize them too much, Aiden," he began, his tone and volume dropping somewhat. "Afterall, they're also on the verge of a devastating war that will claim over 600 million lives."

I sighed, still looking around at the people as they passed. "Fair enough."

Silence overtook the table once more. I sipped at my coffee and Orin seemed to turn his attention to the small device his Borg counterpart had assembled. It was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before anyone spoke again.

"Why are we here at this museum?" Kelsi asked, only barely looking up.

"As it turns out, my scans indicated this location has the ideal quantum coordinates for initiating the transceiver," I relied. It was the first time in years really that my background in quantum mechanics had been even remotely useful. Despite being a skilled engineer myself, I had come to rely on my staff to fill in the technical expertise in recent years. An unexpected side effect of command perhaps--more delegating and less doing.

"A bit of poetic irony I guess," Orin commented, glancing towards the carrier and the historic vessel contained within its hangar deck. I silently agreed with a nod.

"I should complete assembly of the transceiver before the facility closes," she assured us. I smiled at her, Kelsi never ceased to amaze me with her speed and efficiency. As much as it had been a prideful boast on Orin's part, he was right in that the two made an almost unstoppable engineering powerhouse.

Orin looked up from the downloaded schematics as a thought came to him. "What do you think will happen when we turn it on?" he asked. His eyebrows raised to accent the comment.

I had given this question some thought myself. Honestly, I had no real idea either, only supposition that made logical sense based on what little I understood of temporal enforcement. "I imagine someone from the distant future will stop by to figure out why we're here. They should have a means of returning us to our time as well. That transceiver should broadcast towards the 29th-century or so."

"I sure hope we haven't done anything to alter the timeline," Orin commented.

Kelsi noticeably paused a moment to consider that notion. I slightly chucked.

"On the bright side, we'll never know one way or the other," I stated. My mentor had once commented on how time travel used to give her headaches. I found no such annoyance in temporal mechanics; it was all a matter of perspective and if we had changed anything it was likely that we had already changed with it. In any case, I decided to reassure my Chief Engineer with false conviction only a leader can get away with, "No need to fret about a paradox you can't perceive."

"It'll still make for an interesting log entry," Orin chuckled.

Kelsi and I both stared at him blankly for a moment.

"I'm not looking forward to writing it," I finally replied.

Last edited by captainbrenden; 02-07-2013 at 02:07 PM. Reason: format/grammar edits
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 49
# 7 Through The Time Nemesis
02-07-2013, 12:48 PM
Captain's log, stardate 90709.26;
We are en route to the ISH system for a study of its star which behaves strangely according to Starfleet's science department. As we are about to discover the star's mysteries, a surprising experience is going to happen.

-What are your readings science officer? said the captain.
-The star's neutrino field is highly unstable, as if it would collapse on itself.
-Your recommendations?
-I suggest we warp in near ISH three and launch a class twelve probe, then we get out of the star's gravity field.
-Sounds like a good plan. Helm, take the lead.
-Yes sir, warp destination layed in, arriving in five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One.
As soon as the ship warps into the stellar system, the science officer quickly inputs the probe's launch command.
-Probe launched captain.
-Helm, get us out of here.
Then the communications officer says :
-Captain, I'm picking up a radio transmission from Earth but it's not on any Starfleet channel.
-Let me hear it, said the captain.
The bridge's speakers shout :
-''Baby, baby ooh!''
-Enough! said the captain.
The channel was cut and the science officer turned toward its consoles that started to beep like crazy.
-What's happening? said the captain.
-The star is collapsing on itself captain.
-What about the probe?
-I'm currently gathering the data.
-Helm, get us out of here now!
-I can't sir, warp engines are not responding!
The captain swiftly opens internal ship communications.
-Engineer, what's happening down there?
-I don't know captain, the dilithium crystals are not reacting at all. I've never seen this before. I'll attempt to replace them.
-Hurry up!
-Understood sir.
-Captain! said the communications officer staring at the viewscreen.
The captain turns his eyes to the viewscreen only to realize the star went supernovae.
-Sir the shockwave will hit us in ten seconds. said the tactical officer.
-I highly recommend we launch a tachyon beam in order to drill a hole in the shockwave, said the science officer.
-Make it so!
A huge burst of blue tachyons emitted from the ship's deflector makes its way to the shockwave.
-Is it working? said the captain.
-It won't be enough.
-All hands brace for impact! suddenly shouted the captain.
The shockwave touches the ship without blowing it to pieces. Instead, a white light surrounds everybody on the bridge and in the ship. The white light slowly fades to reveal a 2013 New York.
Everybody is astonished by what they see : everything is backward because time flows the other way now. People are walking backward, talking backward and acting backward. People eating food looks gross. The captain looks for his crewmembers who are scattered throughout NYC Broadway Street. All look disoriented but they are acting normally.
-Why aren't we affected science officer? asked the captain.
-It may be possible that the tachyon drill we used has somehow protected us from the temporal inversion Earth is actually experiencing.
-Do you think there's a connection between that last radio transmission and what happened to the star?
-It may be possible captain. Do you know anything about what we heard? You seem to have overeacted when you heard that song.
-Yes, I do remember what it is and believe me, you don't want to know what it is.
-Why not?
-Believe me.
-As you wish captain.
-All I can tell you is that this song comes from this century.
-Watch out! shouted the tactical officer, waving at a crewmember.
An ensign nearly got hit by a bus's wheels but he managed to step back in time.
-How do we get back to our time? asked the captain.
-I think we can realign the timeline if we keep the radio signal we heard from reaching ISH's star.
-What could be the source of that radio signal?
-Sir! shouted the engineer who was holding a newspaper.
-There it is, today is America's first live spatial music channel, said the captain intensively reading the newspaper.
-They have sent a satellite from Cape Kennedy and the live broadcast has been set here in New York. Justin Bieber, the famous artist who composed the song ''Baby'' lead the show.
-We have to kill Justin Bieber then! said the tactical officer.
-No mister Klingon, said the captain, if I rememeber correctly, this man will become the United States's youngest president so he has to stay in the timeline.
-We could sabotage the satellite in a way where it could not send something, replied the engineer.
-This is one great achievement for these people, we cannot destroy it, said the captain.
-How about we set our phasers to emit a reflection field around the satellite? We could use our tricorders to pinpoint the firing position, said the science officer.
-Excellent idea! Work on it at once, replied the captain.
The science officer hails two other crewmembers to reach him. When they arrive, he explains what to do and the small team begins tricorder calculations, phaser settings and methodical alignment.
-We are ready captain, said the science officer.
-Let's do it.
The phaser wave is shot directly in the sky where the satellite will be in this reversed timeline.
All of a sudden, the whole New York scenery becomes white again and fades out to become the bridge of a federation starship.
-Everyone's ok? asked the captain looking around to each staff officer.
Everyone on the bridge noded in a positive way.
-Are we where we are supposed to be science officer?
-I believe we do captain, astrometrics sounds normal to me.
-What about our strange star?
-The star is stable sir.
-And for the radio transmission?
-I am not receiving any transmission captain, said the communications officer.
-Well, it seems we have made the correct decision. Helm, set a course for Earth.
-Course entered sir.
The starship makes a long circle then warps out.

Meanwhile in another sector of the galaxy...
-Maq' Pa'Tuh! (Sir we are receiving a transmission.)
-Kho fu fu yupoh. (Put it through.)
The klingon bridge's speakers emitted a sharp prepubertal voice : ''Baby, baby ooh!''
-Kresh'K! (Stop.)
The bridge is then quiet and the klingon captain stands up, turns and walks toward his communitions officer, puts his hand on his shoulder and says :
-Th'rish. (Where does it come from?)
-Ke Uk'ma ''Federation''. (From federation space captain.)
-Tu'k Ve Ak' Tu! (Death to all humans!)
The staff on the bridge then started to rally themselves with a battlecry.

Last edited by jocelyn2; 02-15-2013 at 05:02 PM. Reason: Upgraded Storyline | Klingons vs Federation
Join Date: Jul 2012
Posts: 216
# 8
02-14-2013, 06:20 PM
Bryan sat in his ready room, staring out of the window idly. He wasn't really thinking about anything, merely sitting and staring silently. He was interrupted from his reverie when his combadge chirped, nearly startling him out of his chair. He quickly tapped it and said "Valot, go ahead."

"Sir," ensign Aara, the Athena's Orion comms officer said, "Admiral Blaze is hailing us. Or, more specifically, you."

"Put her through to the ready room." Bryan said, sighing heavily.

The 1st Assault Fleet's co-leader, and Bryan's direct superior, appeared on the console in front of him.

"Greetings Bryan," She said with a faint smile.

"Ley. What do you need?" he responded tiredly.

"There have been some anomalous readings coming from a star that's going supernova approximately twelve Light Years from New Romulus. Could you check it out, make sure that it's no threat?"

"Send us the coordinates. We'll be there as soon as possible."

"Sent. Good luck Bry." With that, she closed the channel.

"Helm," he called out, tapping the intercom button on the ready room console, "Set a course for the coordinates the Equinox just forwarded. Best speed."

The ship began to hum faintly as she accelerated to her maximum warp velocity. Suddenly, the space outside appeared to fluctuate with a faint, pulsing, blue color as the Asynchronous warp field activated, pushing the ship all the way to warp 20.

"Sir, we've arrived in the Azure sector." Athena, the ship's AI, called out several hours later.

"Good. Anything else?" Bryan responded.

"Actually, yes. You have a new message." She said.

"Thank you Athena. I'll take it in here."

"No problem sir."

Bryan pulled up the message on his terminal. The title simply read "New year's resolution." Even though he all ready knew what the message he wrote to himself said, he opened it anyways. All the message said was "Remember your promise to her, Bryan." There wasn't anything else to the message, but there didn't need to be, for the intent of the single sentence immediately reminded Bryan of what he needed to do.

Bryan tapped his combadge and said "Helm, divert course to the Azure Nebula"

"Are you sure? Admiral Blaze said-"

"Dwayne, " I interrupted him, "Leyla's orders can wait. Set a course for the Azure Nebula, now.

"Yes, sir, diverting course."

The bulkheads groaned faintly as the ship changed its course ever so slightly. Though, built to withstand the strain of high warp maneuvers, the turn still put noticeable stress on the hull, hence the noises structural supports attempting to compensate.

"Athena, what's out ETA?" Bryan asked.

"Ten minutes at present speed, sir," the ship said.

"Very good. Could you please inform Commander Zera that I would like to see her in observation?"

"Right away."

The room was silent for a few seconds before the AI finally said anything again.

"Done, sir."

"Good." Bryan said calmly.

"Sir, a question, if I may?"

"Open door policy, Athena. Go ahead."

"Are you finally going to propose to her?"

Bryan smiled as he rested his face into the palm of his hand. " A bit nosy aren't you?"

"Of course," the AI said, laughing a little.

"Well, in that case, you'll just have to find out later, just like the rest of the crew."


Bryan stood at the window of the main observation room, observing the stars rushing past the ship when Ibalei entered the room. Though her scars from the battle with their mirror counterparts had all ready healed, she still walked with a slight limp.

"You needed me sir?" She said cheerfully.

"Yes, I did." Bryan responded, smiling a little. "Athena? How much longer?"

"Now, sir." Athena responded.

The entire observation room was tinted blue by the light of the nebula. Ibalei stood there, speechless at what she saw. Her eyes, grey as a stormy sky, were tinted slightly by the light. She walked over to the window and simply stared.

After standing there for a minute, she quietly said "It's beautiful. I never imagined..."

"Imagined what?" Bryan asked.

"That I'd ever be able to see it. At least not without being given my own command."

"I keep my promises, Ibalei."

"I know, I know. It's just...I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Not even when you look in the mirror in the mornings?"

"I- What?"

Bryan looked into her eyes as he prepared to ask her the hardest question he would ever ask. But, even as he opened his mouth to speak, alarms blared, and Six of Nine, the Athena's chief engineer and second officer, came on the intercom and said in an extremely distressed voice "Red alert! Temporal anomaly detected right off the bow! Evasive action!" Even as she finished her sentence, however, the entire room became enveloped in darkness.


Bryan got up from the floor and looked around. The room, especially considering the speed of the impact, was surprisingly intact. Ibalei was already up and shaking herself off from the impact as well.

"Ibalei, are you all right?" He asked, visibly concerned.

"Yea, don't worry, I'm fine." She said, a little shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

"Six," Bryan said, tapping his combadge, "Give me a damage report."

"No real damage to report other than the starboard nacelle is flooded. Looks like the Neutronium armor held." The liberated Borg said.

"Go back a second. The starboard nacelle is flooded?" Bryan said, visibly concerned.

"Yes sir."

"Athena?" Bryan asked, his intended question quite obvious to the AI.

"It's flooded because we're currently sitting approximately one hundred kilometers off of the coast of New York city." The AI muttered with a touch of annoyance.

"...New York city?"

"Yes sir. And, judging by the ship floating above us, I'd say we're some time in the early 21st century. Before you ask, the ship I'm talking about is a United States of America Nimitz class nuclear aircraft carrier. Specifically, the Nimitz herself."

"What are they doing?"

"Judging by this lightly encrypted radio chatter, I'd say they're trying to figure out exactly what we are."

Bryan sighed. "Well, temporal prime directive just went out the window. Cut all exterior lights. Put a field over the breach in the starboard nacelle, we'll need to find a way to pump it out if we want to get out of here. Ibalei, I think it's time for a night on the town."

She smiled slightly as they left the room to the turbolift.


They beamed into a dark alleyway, somewhere in the heart of the Big Apple, wearing traditional clothing one would expect for the time. Bryan looked around the area, then looked back at Ibalei and realized her hair was still up in a ponytail, her "spots," courtesy of being a Trill, easily visible running down the side of her face and neck.

"You might want to let your hair down." Bryan whispered to her.

"But-" She started.

"Ibalei, we haven't even really developed true space-faring vehicles yet this point in our history, and we most certainly have never consciously met a Trill. You would probably get locked up in an isolated cell in some dark corner of the planet, knowing how flexible Earth's governments during this time were."

"Right, sorry." She said, obviously embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it. I still think you're the most beautiful women in the galaxy," Bryan responded, smiling as Ibalei blushed faintly. "Come on, let's head down to the docks. See if we can find something there to pump out the water."


Bryan sat in the bed in the apartment he and Ibalei had rented several weeks earlier. The pair had lived there for a brief time, attempting to find a way to purchase the pumps they needed to clear the Athena's nacelle. So far, they had no luck. Though the Athena's replicators were functioning, the primary one, used for replicating components, large scale equipment, and, most importantly, water pumps to prevent flooding.

"Hey there Bryan." Ibalei said cheerily as she entered the apartment.

"Ibalei. Good to see you again." Bryan responded, getting up from the bed and kissing her gently on the cheek. "Any luck getting what we needed?"

"You Humans used to be more stingy than the richest Ferengi," She said sarcastically. "Nobody would even think about selling me one."

"Reading peoples minds again, Ibalei?" Bryan laughed.

"I didn't need to. It's pretty obvious." The Trill retorted, smiling and laughing as well.

"Was there anything else?" Bryan asked.

"There is some good news. I found some parts down at the docks we might be able to use to make our own pump. Plus, it'll be much more efficient than the ones most ships these days use."

"Well, I say we head back down to the docks and tag the parts for transport aboard the Athena." Bryan said.

"Indeed." She responded, smiling broadly.

The pair left the apartment and walked through the rapidly darkening streets of New York city. They looked just like any other couple you might see, holding hands, talking, and laughing. By the time they reached the docks, it was completely dark, though the docks were still busy as usual.

"This might complicate things a little." Bryan said, carefully observing the situation.

"Please, remember who your talking to," Ibalei responded sarcastically. "I all ready hid the parts we need in a few boxes nearby."

"You always think of everything, don't you?" Bryan laughed.

"Of course," she said, smiling and laughing herself.

She led him to a darkened alleyway, well away from any lighting and prying eyes, and filled with boxes.

"So, which ones are we taking?" Bryan asked.

"Well, I marked the ones we were going to use with an element that should be visible," she said, as she pulled out her tricorder and tapped in a few commands, "now."

She was right, as several of the boxes had a faint stripe on them that glowed a bright purple. The two got to work, silently tagging each of the crates for transport.

When they finally finished, several minutes later, Bryan pulled his combadge out of his pocket, tapped it, and said quietly, "Athena, two plus cargo for transport." At that, the faint hum of the transporter enveloped him as they were beamed out.


"Sir, we've got the pump working now," Six of nine said as she entered the ready room.

"Good," Bryan responded, looking up briefly. "How long do you expect it to take to get the nacelle working again?"

"Half an hour. A full hour at the most."

"Good. That will be all, Six. Get that nacelle up and running again"

"Yes, sir," the Borg said. With that she walked out of the room, speaking into her combadge to relay Bryan's orders. Bryan stood up and walked over to the window, looking out into the ocean. Eventually, Ibalei stepped into the room and walked up beside him.

"Quite a view, huh?" she said.

"The ocean has always been full of mysteries," Bryan responded. "We still don't understand it completely."

"That reminds me, was there something you were going to say before we got sent back here by whatever that anomaly was?"

"Yes, actually. I-"

"Sir," Athena called out, "We've got a submersible vessel closing on our position."

Bryan paused. The only way for the submarine's crew to be able to view the ship would be if they put on diving suits, which they more than likely had on board.

"Dwayne," Bryan said, tapping his combadge, "fire up the impulse engines. Try to get us away from that submarine."

"Aye sir." The helmsman responded.

"Aara, sound yellow alert."

"Right away sir." The Orion answered.

"Six, get everyone you have working on pumping and fixing the nacelle. I want to be able to warp out of here within the next ten minutes. Understood?"

"On it sir," the liberated Borg said in reply.

The Athena's hull groaned faintly as the impulse drive powered up for the first time in almost a month. The ship gradually began to rise from being half buried in sand and sediment. Once free from her burial, however, she glided though the water as easily as if it were space. The crew of the submarine didn't even have time to react, as the Athena sped away from them at speeds unimaginable for a vessel of her size during that time period.

"It feels good to be home," Bryan said as he sat back into the captain's chair for the first time since the crash.

"Agreed," Ibalei said, taking her place in the chair to Bryan's right.

"Helm, take us up and out of the atmosphere. Full impulse," Bryan called out.

The ship rose majestically through the clouds and into space once more. The last bit of water trailed away from the breach in the starboard side nacelle, and it finally glowed back to life after a month of sitting dormant.

"Sir, we have warp capability," Six said enthusiastically.

"Good. Helm, get us out of here. Maximum warp," Bryan said, obviously relieved to be back in space, "Now then, does anyone have an idea for how to get us back home?

"Actually sir, I had a thought," Ibalei said. "But first, do we still have that chroniton torpedo on board?"

"Kerry?" Bryan called to the Athena's chief Tactical officer.

"Yes, we do sir." Kerry responded.

"What's your plan Ibalei?" Bryan said, turning back to his first officer.

"Well I figure that if we can get the torpedo to detonate with the correct frequency within a wormhole or a similar anomaly, that we could theoretically get right back to where we're supposed to be. Both the time and the place."

"And you're sure this will work?"

"Not completely sure, but nothing is ever certain, is it?"

"Point. Give Avalrez the frequency. She and Thryiss can work on the Torpedo together. Where's the nearest anomaly we can use?"

"Well, we could try to imbalance our warp drive to simulate the effect right here," Six said from her station.

"Good. Work on that with Athena, Six. I want you two to make sure that you get the balance perfect."

"Aye sir."

"As for the rest of you, normal duty shift from her on out. Secure from yellow alert and get some rest. We will begin with the gamma shift. I'll be in my quarters if you need me."


"Sir, we're almost set to return to our own time," the Athena's AI said over the intercom in Bryan's quarters.

"Good. We're on delta shift now, correct?" Bryan asked

"Yes sir."

"Tell Aara to sound general quarters. I want everyone at their stations and ready just in case this goes south."

"Right away sir."

Alarms blared as Bryan stepped out of his quarters and into a hallway. He passed by groups of crewmen moving hurriedly to their stations and some MACO troopers who were already in their full combat gear and ready for anything. After about thirty seconds, he finally came to a turbolift, which opened to greet him. As he stepped in, he proceeded to call out "Bridge," and the turbolift sped upward. When it finally arrived the Athena's chief of Security, Justin, who was already in full MACO combat gear as well, called out "Admiral on deck!" and Ibalei, who had been sitting in the central chair, moved over to the first officer's chair and allowed Bryan to take the seat.

"Status?" He called out.

"All systems go, sir," Athena responded. "We can begin the attempt whenever you're ready."

Bryan tapped the intercom button on his chair. "Attention all hands, this is the Amiral speaking. By now, you all have heard that we have a plan to get back to our own time. It's a long shot, and it may not even work. Despite this, I know you all will do your duties to the very best of your abilities, as you always do. Good luck to you all. Admiral Valot, out."

"Nice speech, sir," Ibalei said.

"Thanks. Shall we begin?"

"Waiting for your orders, sir," Athena said.

"Good. Ibalei, seeing as how this was your plan, I want you to carry it out. You have the con."

"Aye, sir, I have the Con," She responded. "Dwayne, take us into warp. Athena, set warp factor to exactly sixteen."

"Aye sir." the Helmsman and AI said at the same time.

Outside the window, space suddenly glowed a bright blue, as the imbalanced warp dirve activated and threw the Athena into a newly formed wormhole.

"Thryiss, fire the torpedo...Now!"

The modified chroniton torpedo sped away from the tube, detonating about half a kilometer away. Suddenly, the ship shuddered as it became enveloped in darkness once again.


When Bryan came too, the Bridge was once again enveloped in the soft blue light of the Azure nebula. He looked around the bridge, and saw the others beginning to pick themselves up off of the floor as well.

"Status?" he asked.

"All systems are operational, sir." Athena said, "Present year is 2412, just a minute or two after we were sent back in time."

"Nice work, Ibalei," Bryan said, turning to his First Officer.

"Thank you, sir," the Trill responded, smiling faintly.

Bryan began to put his hand into his pocket when a small, metallic hoop brushed up against it. He was all of a sudden reminded of what he had intended to do, but still had not had the chance to carry out. He looked into Iablei's deep grey eyes, steeled his resolve and prepared himself.

"Ibalei, the fiasco this little excursion turned into has reminded me of something I've been meaning to do for some time now, but could never find the right circumstances to do it in," he said walking towards her.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

Bryan held her hands in his. "I've known you for about six years now, and we've served together on the same boat for close to three. In that time, I have come to care about you, as a crewmate, as a friend, and, recently, as the first women I've truly ever loved. You are beautiful, smart, funny, and a million other things. And I would like to be one of them. Commander Ibalei Zera," Bryan pulled the small ring out of his pocket, "Will you marry me?"

The Trill stared for a moment, unable to believe what was happening. Tears began to well up in her stormy eyes as she looked into Bryan's. She opened her mouth to answer, but instead saying anything, she reached around Bryan, brought him closer to her, and the pair kissed, right in the middle of the Athena's bridge. Bryan immediately knew her answer even before her mind joined his, and whispered one word in the middle of their brief moment: "Yes."
Vice Admiral Bryan Mitchel Valot
Commanding officer: Odyssey class U.S.S. Athena
Admiral of the 1st Assault Fleet
Join date: Some time in Closed Beta

Last edited by ironphoenix113; 02-18-2013 at 09:37 PM.
Career Officer
Join Date: Feb 2013
Posts: 7
# 9
02-19-2013, 03:13 PM
Echoes of the Past

Commander Frank Keith Lamont sat in the small cabin of the Captain's Yacht, and brooded. He hated these sorts of missions, where the most exciting part of the mission happened, according to the Admiral studying the sensor readouts, almost ten years before they got here. The remains of a Luna-sized moon were scattered into a ring-like system around the Jovian planet, and the remains were slowly falling into the Jovian's atmosphere.

For the life of him, Frank couldn't fathom why he'd been brought on this mission.

"Something bothering you, Commander?" said Admiral "Sam Bright," not looking up from the display.

Frank stiffened slightly. "Your Betazoid senses detecting something, Sir?"

"You know I don't use them without permission, Mr. Lamont," said the Admiral, still not looking up. "I didn't need to, anyway. The fact that you haven't said anything since we dropped out of warp says volumes."

There was a brief silence.

Sam set the scanners to continue to catalog the moon's debris, and turned to face the Commander. "Go ahead and speak freely, Frank. What's going on?"

Frank sat back in his chair, still tensed. "Why did you bring me on this mission, Samuaal?"

The Admiral gave a half-smile in appreciation for Frank's use of his given name as opposed to the "Terranized" version. "I thought you needed to relax a bit, and get back to what Starfleet's all about. It's not all fighting and training. I mean, look out there," he motioned towards the transparent aluminum viewscreen, "and tell me what you see."

Frank sighed, and decided to humor the Admiral. "What's left of a moon that probably got too close to that Jovian and got torn apart by the big planet's gravity. Went inside its..." he searched for the word, "something limit."

"The Roche limit," Sam said, wordlessly forgiving his security officer for his lack of knowledge of the sciences. "That's right. But this is a recent phenomenon. Something happened that pushed that moon too close. I want to find out what happened, and why the moon suddenly got pulled in. But that's beside the point, Frank. You have to look at the beauty of this galaxy. You need to relax some more. You can't be 'on' all the time... what are you looking at?" Samuaal turned around and looked in the direction Frank was squinting.

The Yacht started to shake as a small glowing light got closer in the orbital path.

Frank's hands started to input the commands for emergency evasive, but as the ship began to swerve out of the way, the glowing light expanded, looking like a torn and fractured version of the wormhole near Deep Space Nine, and engulfed the small ship.

Lights flickered as the inertial dampeners went into overdrive, protecting the inhabitants of the small vessel as best it could as the ship was buffeted back and forth, side to side.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it subsided, leaving the Yacht drifting in a strange, warm glow. And then, as if realizing the "gravity" of the situation, starting to fall.

Sam picked himself up, gingerly touching a gash on his head from when he hit the panel going down. He looked out the viewscreen at a world much different than the one just out there. This one was covered with blue water, except for the part almost directly below, gravitationally speaking, which was obviously a series of islands, covered with a city. Three things were immediately obvious: it was a city well into the Information age, which was incongruous with the second thing, which was that it was completely dark. Third, and most troubling, was that it was getting bigger.

Frank cursed and slammed the console. Thankfully, the engines kicked into life, and the craft wheeled around and started to ascend, back towards a dissipating orange glow, and a white hole in the sky, swirling and jagged.

Sam ran a scan for a Federation Locator Beacon, and got nothing. Fearing the worst, he started running a scan for local pulsars.

Frank, meanwhile, let loose a curse. "That can't be right,"

"What do you mean?" Sam said. He was having trouble concentrating; a rising wave of panic was emanating from the city below.

"I'd swear that was New York City, but the buildings weren't right. Some of those buildings aren't there any more. Haven't been since..." he looked at the last flickers of the strange glow that had heralded their entrance. "Since the third World War."

Sam's eyes widened, and expanded his search to check for temporal drift from the pulsars. Finally, the computer spat out an answer: Earth, local date mid 21st century. He simply replied "Location and date appear to be right for that. I think."

Frank squinted at his Admiral.

"I nearly flunked Pre-Federation History," Sam said defensively. "Don't tell anyone you know that."

"I didn't hear a thing," Frank said, and returned to his console. "If I were to hazard a guess, that glow was the remnants of the first strike against the East Coast of the United States. The Eastern Coalition detonated a couple of high-altitude fusion bombs, creating a series of EMPs that fried most of the electronics across the nation."

The roaring wave of panic from below was nearly crippling to Samuaal Brait as he gripped his console, and tried to focus on what the sensors were telling him about that hole in spacetime. "Would that fusion blast have been about 310 kilometers above the surface?"

"I think so, why?"

"Because if so, that blast might have torn open that hole we fell through," Sam said. He shook his head and redoubled his efforts to block out the fear emanating from the dark city below.

Frank whistled, unaware of the emotions pummeling his commanding officer. "I didn't know the Eastern Coalition had fusion bombs big enough to do that."

"It might have been just random chance," Sam said through gritted teeth.

A blip on Frank's console made him look down. "I've got about a hundred aircraft coming in from all sides," He gave a somber look out the window, looking down at his home planet. "I think it just started... they haven't had a chance to evacuate the major cities yet..."

"I know..."

Frank noted the tones of sorrow and pain in the Admiral's voice. "Sir, that hole?"

"Hole? ...right, hole," Sam focused on the sensors. "We have to get that thing closed. If one of those chunks of moon comes through the hole, Earth's going to have even bigger problems than a war."

"Think we can use some kind of graviton pulse from our deflectors or tractor beam? Push it out of orbit?"

"Maybe... I'm detecting some kind of event horizon on the hole?" He ran a few more scans. "Frank, I think I have a solution right up your alley. We'll blast it shut."

"I don't follow."

"We need to detonate a micro-quantum torpedo right at the event horizon, and use our shields to push the resulting explosion towards the end of this hole back in the Delta Volanis cluster."

"And how are we going to get back to our time?"

"That's the tricky part: We detonate the torpedo inside our shields to do it. Best way to get the shields in the right shape."

"Well that'll be interesting."

"You have a better idea?"

"If you can't think of any within the next two minutes, the airspace over the coast will become one big furball of human air and spacecraft, and we'll be spotted."

"Humans had military spacecraft at this time?"

"Not many, but both sides pretty much came to the conclusion that this was the time to throw everything at the enemy. No matter how experimental. They're launching everything."

"Alright, let's get into position and close that hole."

The ship started its final approach, then turned around to face the ground, flying backwards into the gaping hole, so its micro-quantum torpedo launcher would be able to fire.

Samuaal and Frank looked down at the once great city, brought low by the electromagnetic pulse. Samuaal had seen the great buildings that had replaced the ones that were to fall in the coming days, weeks, and months, while Frank had done reports on the battle tactics used in the Third World War, but nothing could prepare them for the actual images of a city in panic, as their world started to fall apart before their eyes.

Frank glanced at his controls. "Ten seconds to the event horizon."

Sam looked back at the controls. "Diverting Emergency Power to the Shields, reinforcing the Structural Integrity Field."

"Torpedoes ready."


The white edges of the hole in spacetime appeared on the edge of the transparent aluminum right as the Micro-Quantum torpedo fired. A fraction of a second later, the torpedo detonated.

* * * * *

Samuaal Brait's eyes flickered open, revealing the ceiling of the Catherine's sickbay, and the concerned face of his ship's EMH looking down at him.

"How are you feeling, Admiral?"

Sam groaned and tried to sit up. "I'm fine," he managed to mumble before falling back again.

The EMH slowly guided him back onto the biobed. "You suffered a major concussion and multiple lacerations, Admiral. With all due respect, you're not fine."

"What about...?" he mumbled, the emotions of those in New York still replaying in his mind.

"We closed the hole," said Frank from an adjacent biobed. "I managed to signal a distress beacon before I passed out. Judging by the fact that we're still here, there must have been minimal impact to the timeline."

Sam groaned and leaned back. "Great. Another visit from the Department of Temporal Investigations... they still haven't forgiven me for the Gateway incident."

"Any visit from any Federation official can wait until you've both back on your feet," the EMH pointed out.

Sam chuckled.

"Now can I get you anything to help you relax?"

Sam looked at the EMH. "A PADD so I can fill out my report to Starfleet Command, please."

When he got the PADD, he opened up a separate tab, and accessed the ship's library's records on Earth's Third World War.

"You were right, by the way," Mr. Lamont said, shifting in the biobed, trying to relieve some of the ache.

"About what, Commander?"

"I do need to get out more."

Last edited by reddwarf86; 02-19-2013 at 03:44 PM.
Former PWE Community Team Lead
Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 9,046
# 10
02-19-2013, 07:35 PM
Some really interesting entries this round! I was worried about the background story, but a lot of you ran with it Thank you for contributing!

If you would still like to make an entry, feel free to! I will unstick this, though, as I am preparing to post #39.


Brandon =/\=
Brandon "BranFlakes" Felczer | Former Community Team Lead for Perfect World Entertainment

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