“Qu'vatlh!”
The curse came out as more of a gasp than a spoken word as he struggled for air. Only after several panicked seconds did he finally manage to slip the EV suit’s helmet back into place and secure the locking mechanisms with his trembling and glove-clad fingers. The stale smell of the suit’s interior as it inflated once again with O2 was sweet relief as he slowly slid down the bulkhead, his breathing finally slowing to a more reasonable rate.
His heart, on the other hand, was still beating madly against his ribcage. Grey eyes stared straight ahead at the airlock he’d just emerged from as he gathered the courage to look once again to either side of him, down the short stretch of corridor.
Bodies.
Everywhere.
He quickly turned away, this time murmuring a prayer for the dead as he furiously blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut. His former tutor L’vagh would have his head if she knew he’d invoked Kahless with tears in his eyes. Get it together, Steven! He opened his eyes, fists pressing the floor as he bit back panic mixed with grief. Somebody out there might still be alive and they’ll need your help. With a shuddering breath he stood up and straightened his shoulders despite the knot in the middle of his chest.
Right. He checked the gauges on his EV suit then headed for the nearest turbolift. Whatever had happened here, he had to find out. He owed his friends that much.
He carefully made his way past the bodies of his classmates to a Jeffries tube access panel. There was only one weapons locker and that was one deck below him. If they’d been boarded ... He yanked the panel open, rage replacing his confusion and panic.
They were just a training vessel, damnit! He climbed inside and carefully made his way down the narrow tube to the next deck level, his mind racing. Who would do something like this? How had they managed to turn off environmental controls? How had they done it so quickly?
He hadn’t even seen the other ship.
He’d been outside, EVAcing a problem with one of the subspace transmitters, not entirely sure whether it was a real problem or yet another Real World Test by his instructors, when Commander Williams had ordered him back inside; they’d spotted the derelict on sensors and needed to increase speed to sublight to investigate.
Decompression was slow in these older training ships but he must have waited only, what, twenty minutes? thirty? in the airlock before stumbling into an airless corridor. He frowned. The airlock’s safety systems should have alerted him to the life support failure on the other side. He sighed, his rage subsiding slowly as his brain took over, analyzing the situation. The airlock was just one more in a series of events gone. What was more perplexing was the fact that there’d barely been enough time to have caught up with the other ship let alone find themselves engaged with an enemy.
Enemy. Nausiccans? Orions? Romulans? He bit his lip. Klingons? God, he hoped not.
He stepped out of the Jeffries tube onto the deck plating, his heart and mind still racing. Was the subspace transmitter really out of commission? He wished he’d gotten a better look at it. A familiar voice echoed in his head as he straightened up, “Always be aware of your surroundings, son.”
The irony of that thought was not lost on him as he felt the phase blast hit him square in the back and the deck plating seemed to rise to meet him.
---
He blinked. The first thing that struck him was that he wasn’t dead. The second was that his helmet was off again and this time there was breathable air. However, the effects of the stun setting had left his chest feeling constricted and he coughed involuntarily. His eyes snapped open as the movements made him realize his hands were cuffed behind his back.
Through his blurred vision he could just make out a humanoid figure, one that spun around to face him at the sound of the cough. To his surprise he heard English, “He’s come around.” English, English. As in an accent just like ... he blinked again and the room came into focus.
At least six young men and two women stood at the various Bridge stations. Human?! The rage that had subsided while he’d climbed the Jefferies tube came back with full force as he saw the bodies of his friends still lying on the deck plating. He struggled to his knees.
One of them approached him and asked with preamble, “What’s the command code?” but the man’s question barely registered with him as he took in the strange sight with a mixture of frustration, anger and confusion. They were Human, yes. But … something was odd. Their clothes were odd. Old … like out of a history book.
“I said, what’s the command code?” the man repeated. In response he simply clenched his teeth and remained silent.
Almost immediately he found himself face down on the deck plating again, this time with the taste of blood in his mouth and stars in his vision as a result of the blow. Now he was even more confused. Even Reghar couldn’t hit him that hard and Reghar was a Nausicaan!
He risked a glance up at the view screen. The other ship was a derelict. Enormous, but clearly a derelict. Fifty, maybe a hundred years old? Then why did it look so familiar? He squinted, trying to see the registry on the side of the ship but only managed the letters “S.S.” before he was yanked upright again. He tensed in anticipation of another blow.
“We don’t need him Caleb. I’ve accessed the ship’s database and systems. We’ve got control of the ship.”
The one called Caleb nodded and waved a hand at someone outside the periphery of his vision. He took in a sharp breath as he heard the whine of a disruptor powering up. So this was it? He closed his eyes again. He wished he had a chance to say good-bye. Leave a note, a letter. Something.
“Stop.”
The voice behind him was deep, calm, but powerful and had an immediate effect on the others who, despite their bohemian appearance, all straightened to military attention. The disruptor whine faded away. He frowned as he looked around the bridge. Caleb’s face radiated … devotion? Before he could wonder any more than that he was startled out of his observation by strong hands that helped him up to a sitting position. He twisted slightly but couldn’t get a good look behind him to see his benefactor.
“Report.”
The young man who had accessed the database spoke first, “Sir, we have full access to the ship and its databases. It is from Earth.”
“Interesting.”
A young woman nodded to the unseen man from the helm station. “It’s considerably faster than any ship I’ve ever seen, Sir.”
His eyebrows rose at that statement. The training vessel’s top speed was warp three, hardly commonplace anymore. But that was nothing compared to the young woman’s next statement: “They finally did it sir. They achieved warp.”
“And woke us from our slumber as they caught up with us. Again, interesting.”
His heart started pounding again as understanding suddenly dawned on him. He glanced around again. At the centuries old clothing. The oddly beautiful and handsome group. The clear devotion in the faces of the gathered. The strength that had been in that blow to his head. He dared a quick glance at the view screen to confirm his suspicions.
He didn’t have to. The sound of fabric indicated the movement of the man behind him, who circled around to crouch before him and take his chin firmly in hand.
His own eyes widened as he stared into the eyes of a legend of Earth's past.
“I see you recognize me.” It was a statement, not a question, but he couldn’t help but nod a wordless affirmative. The visage before him was straight out of a textbook. Straight out of his own history. Responsible, in a roundabout way, for his very existence. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry, the irony was so sharp.
The man simply nodded, “I knew they would not be able to forget me.” The dark eyes examined him and he felt increasingly uncomfortable under the gaze - as if the man could read his deepest secrets just by looking at him. “What is your name, son?”
That was too much. He clenched his fists behind his back and spat back through clenched teeth, “I’m not your son!”
The be robed man rose to his full height with the grace of royalty and merely regarded his outburst quietly, unperturbed, for several moments before turning to the young man at the comm. “Issac?”
Issac nodded, fingers flying over the board. “I’ve found him in the ship’s roster sir.” He could hear the turbolift doors behind him open and another person enter. There was a moment’s pause and he could hear the sound of a medical scanner behind him. No! He struggled to evade the scan but it was too late.
His heart sank as a female voice behind him announced, “Sir. You should see this.” He watched as the scanner passed hands over his shoulder and the tall, dark man glanced over it. If he was surprised or confused by the readings his calm visage betrayed nothing.
He could barely hear the words of the woman over the panicked rush of blood in his head, “Part of his genome is unfamiliar to me …”
The man interrupted, “And that’s why there’s no mother listed.” Again, it was a statement, not a question. He could read his mind!
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve seen enough,” said the man as he walked away to stand in the middle of the tiny bridge. “With this ship we can be back to Earth in days.” He turn, pointed at Issac’s terminal. “However, this says our young captive’s father is a Commander on a starship capable of warp seven.” The devotees around the bridge all straightened up in surprise. “We could traverse the same distance we did over the last 150 years … in minutes.” Another exchange of glances among the devotees.
“Contact this Commander…” The man stopped and gave a questioning look at the youth standing at the terminal.
“Reed, sir.” Issac read from the terminal. “Commander Malcolm Reed, First Officer aboard the Statfleet vessel the U.S.S. Pensacola.”
[…]