Children of the stars

Whilst undertaking a logistics mission to a distant federation colony, the crew of the Thyanis uncover a mystery that has been traveling through space for over three hundred years.

Prologue

USS Thyanis
Late April 2401

August 2035 – Washington – District of Columbia 


 

The inquiry panel sat patiently, reviewing the evidence and notes they had made from previous hearings whilst also trying to listen to the testimony before them today.

The room was set out not unlike a typical tribunal chamber, with the panel members sitting on a bench elevated from the rest of the room. Directly below them with his back to the bench sat a loggist who was busy recording the minutes of the hearing and typing in short-hand.

Facing the bench on a standalone table was the main witness for the hearing along with any supporting counsellors that the witness may choose to bring with them for advice.

This was a public and transparent hearing and members of the press were seated amongst the seating of the auditorium, making notes and taking pictures for their articles to be published online; with many providing live updates via social media and news outlet platforms.

“Mister Suarez, could you please confirm your position and responsibilities on the day of the launch?” spoke the panel chairman.

“I was the range launch director and head of the launch team, my responsibilities included  having oversight of the entire launch operations, collating all data from the launch controllers, and making the final ‘go, no go’ decision for launch after polling the relevant team members.”  Mr. Suarez said confidently into the microphone on his table.

“So in other words you had the final say on launching the Archimedes spacecraft, correct?” queried the chairman.

“In other words, that would be correct yes. Suarez responded.

“Can you confirm the sequence of events leading up to the launch? Were there any anomalies or deviations from the expected parameters?” asked the chairman.

“Well my involvement in the sequence of events leading up to the launch spans approximately forty-eight hours, I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific.” Suarez retorted.

“Specifically from the mandatory nine-minute hold, can you walk us through the sequence of events leading up to the launch from that time?” the chairman clarified his question.

“So the nine-minute hold sometimes called the final hold is sort of our final systems and constraints check before committing to launch, as far as I can remember everything was within the designated launch parameters and we had no significant constraints.

At the end of the hold, I requested my launch poll from the relevant people and gave authority to launch.” Suarez responded.

“So there were no anomalous readings, nothing that would indicate that the launch should be scrubbed, is that what you’re saying?” asked the chairman

“There was something… a glitch, perhaps? But it was brief and didn’t violate any of the launch constraints.” Suarez reluctantly testified.

“A glitch, can you elaborate mister Suarez?” the chairman asked, looking intrigued as did his colleagues who were now all focused on the witness, giving him their full and undivided attention.

“It was just a blip on the monitors, it vanished as quickly as it appeared after we ran some diagnostics, everything checked out,” said Suarez, reaching for a glass of water to moisten his throat.

“And this glitch, what system was it related to?” asked the chairman

“It’s difficult to say, the glitch didn’t seem to affect any system in particular, it seemed to show up in several data streams. But as I said, it was gone before we could investigate further.” Suarez followed up.

“This glitch, did it occur before, during, or after your launch poll?” the chairman followed up.

“Before,” said Suarez

“And were there any indications of this glitch when you conducted your launch poll?” asked the chairman

“No, I do not recall there being any indications of a fault during my launch poll,” Suarez responded confidently.

“Mister Suarez, this panel has already heard the testimony of a Mister Scott Holland who I believe was one of your engineers present in the firing room that day is that correct?” said the chairman

Suarez coughed nervously before making his reply, “That’s correct.”

“Well, Mister Holland testified before this commission last week to indicate that this glitch, as you put it, was still present at the time of the go-no-go poll and that you made the decision to launch notwithstanding his advice at the time. What can you tell us about that?” the chairman issued his challenge

Suarez froze up for a moment, clearly nervous and sweating under the pressure.

“Mister Suarez?” the chairman prompted as seconds went by without an answer.

Suarez took a gulp of water, his gaze shifting uneasily, flickering across the faces of the panel members. He cleared his throat, his fingers nervously tracing the rim of his glass. “I understand that Mister Holland has his perspective, but you have to understand that he was just one opinion, in fact, the only one that had doubts about the launch. I made my decision based on all the information available to me at that moment, and I stand by my decision to launch.” He shifted in his seat, his posture betraying an underlying tension.

The room fell silent, the tension in the air palpable. Reporters scribbled furiously to capture every nuance. The panel members exchanged glances, sharing unspoken thoughts. Mr. Suarez’s words seemed to hang in the air, pregnant with undisclosed implications.

And then, just as the chairman was about to speak again, Suarez’s eyes met his, revealing a mix of fear and regret, before he abruptly looked away.

The chairman leaned in, his voice dropping to a quiet but authoritative tone, “Thank you, Mister Suarez, I have no further questions at this time and I think now is a perfect place to break for lunch and… consider very carefully the testimony we have heard here this morning. If I could ask for your continued cooperation to return this afternoon, my colleagues may have some further questions for you.”

The chairman maintained a piercing stare toward Mr. Suarez, trying to convey an unspoken notice to Mr. Suarez that he was giving away more than his words conveyed.

 

Late April 2401 – USS Thyanis – Providence Fleet yards 


 

Gracefully like she was engaged in a gentle dance Thyanis cleared her moorings and began to break away from the controlled traffic zone surrounding the old K-class station. Her nacelles were still powered down as her engineers wanted to make some final adjustments to her new warp core before allowing her to spread her wings once again.

Recently promoted, now a substantive Commander, Wallace Jones was on a strict and time-bound schedule that would make even the most efficient resource management clerk blush. Though he was pretty much just the bus driver on this mission, the Starfleet Corps of Engineers had meticulously planned each visit to coincide with the various maintenance schedules of each outpost along their route.  

For the next 6 months, he was to be ferrying a team of engineers from station to station to apply planned upgrades to the fleet’s transporter technology, as well as purge any remnants of Borg code in the transporter architecture.

Thyanis was only one of several ships assigned to similar tasks across the quadrant; a relatively easy assignment that allowed the crew plenty of R&R time as well as opportunities to upgrade and fine-tune the ship’s systems.

“Message from the dock master sir, we are cleared to depart the controlled area at your discretion” Harris reported from his station at the helm.

“Lay in a course for Starbase 86, and set warp drive systems to standby. Proceed at three-quarter Impulse power in the meantime.” Wallace ordered as he stood from his chair and approached the helm. 

“Eye sir, course plotted and laid in, three-quarter Impulse” obeyed Harris.

“Care to have that chat while we wait?” Wallace asked discreetly, gesturing towards his office.

Harris nodded and signaled an ensign to take over the helm, he then followed the commander into the office at the front of the ship.

“What’s on your mind?” Wallace asked, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern while replicating a fresh pot of coffee.

Harris hesitated for a moment, glancing at the fresh cup of coffee being poured before meeting Wallace’s gaze.

“Well… it’s sort of a personal matter but I feel you need to know. Molly and I… we’ve decided it wasn’t working out.”

Wallace sighed softly, placing the cups down on the table.“You know full well that I don’t care to meddle in my crew’s personal life, why bring this to me?”

Harris shifted uncomfortably. “I just thought you ought to know, It’s not like we’re not speaking to each other but—”

Wallace cut in, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. “But nothing commander, you’re the X.O of this ship. You can’t say I didn’t caution you about entering into a relationship with those under your command. Now, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but I’m afraid you’re both going to have to put this behind you and continue to work as part of a team, do I make myself clear?”

Harris nodded, his gaze fixed on the table. “Yes, Sir. Crystal clear, Sir.” 

Wallace’s expression softened slightly. “I’m sorry I can’t be a friend to you on this subject. It puts me in too difficult of a position. You’re both senior officers, and you both now hold an equal rank. I have faith that you’ll both come out the other side of this as friends.”

“I understand. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you in that position. We both know now that it was an error in judgment to follow our feelings. I just hope that this won’t affect our friendship” Harris submitted, his voice carrying a sense of submission.

“You know me better than that, Harris. If I were one to let a girl come between us then we wouldn’t have been friends for so long!” Wallace pointed out, his expression reassuring.

Harris’s bleak expression melted away to one of nostalgia as he recalled a long-forgotten flame of his from his time aboard the USS Tomcat. “Sarah Nicholson!”

Wallace’s expression also melted away into a cheeky grin, “She was still my date to the dance.”

Harris cracked a short laugh as he recalled the events from their early career. “Oh no, not this again. I keep telling you, she asked me first… It wasn’t my fault I was in the brig!”

“It was totally your own fault. Besides, I couldn’t let her get stud up by another stick jockey. She needed a real man to show her what a good time meant!” Wallace jested, leaning back comfortably in his office chair and taking a victory sip from his mug. His eyes remained fixed on Harris’s as he used the cup to hide his smile.

Harris folded his arms but kept smiling, “Nope, I’m not being drawn into this.”

Wallace set down his cup and leaned forward, “Joking aside, our friendship goes deeper than personal errors in judgment. You’re only human, Just promise me you’ll keep things professional. Don’t ever let your history with Molly affect a command decision.”

Harris met Wallace’s gaze. “You have my word sir.”

Wallace nodded In agreement before their conversation was interrupted by the chirp of a communicator 

“Engineering to Commander Jones, I’m just about done down here captain, warp power at your command” Chief Catterick announced with pride.

“Acknowledged,” Wallace responded as Harris took this as his cue to get back to work.

“I’ll get back to work. And for the record, my incarceration in the brig was not my fault. Sarah told me a few years back that she and the chief of security had a thing going on after you transferred. That can’t be a coincidence.” Harris smiled playfully as he tried to settle the score.

Wallace smiled with amusement as he raised his cup. “Whatever you say, commander,”

As Harris departed for the bridge, Wallace sat back in his chair and picked up a PADD from his desk. His expression deteriorated dramatically as he reviewed its contents, namely a letter to Starfleet command authored by Wallace himself. He was fixated and torn by the final words on the page, “Regrettably, I must respectfully request that you tender my resignation, effective Immediately upon my return to port.”

Wallace glanced up from the display and glanced out his window. He never grew tired of the awe-inspiring beauty of space travel, as Thyanis accelerated rapidly and pierced the threshold into warp. 

Part 1 – The Signal

USS Thyanis
Late April 2401

Late April 2401 – USS Thyanis – En route to Starbase 86 – Warp 6.5


 

The doors to the Thyanis infirmary hissed open, and Wallace strolled in, enjoying a bite of a replicated apple. Juice dribbled down his chin as he chewed the succulent fruit.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Molly quipped as she noticed her commander approaching. She was busy re-stocking one of her trolleys with her most used medicines, ready to face another day of minor scrapes, stomach upsets, and sprain injuries.

Wallace grinned, glancing around the familiar sickbay. “But not the Captain, it seems,” he replied with a jest. He wandered over to a display, pretending interest as he took another bite.

Molly paused in her work, tracking Wallace’s circuitous path. “Are you trying to wear out my carpet?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

Recognising the failure of his avoidance tactic, Wallace submitted to approaching Molly more directly, slight trepidation in his voice. “Actually, I need to discuss something with you, a delicate matter,” he said, taking a seat on a stool near her workstation.

Molly looked up from her tasks. “Harris?” she guessed. 

Wallace sat forward. “Yeah… Look, it’s none of my business what happened between you. I just wanted to make sure you can handle—”

Molly cut him off with a raised hand. “Let me stop you there sir!” 

Wallace shifted in his seat, realising his approach shared as much subtlety as a photon torpedo. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to suggest—”

Molly raised her voice. “With all due respect, sir, this isn’t something I’m fond of discussing. You have my word that my duties won’t be affected.”

Understanding his mistake, Wallace stood. “I apologise for overstepping. Carry on,” he said, departing without offering unnecessary advice.

As Wallace left, Molly focused on her work, conflicted by her response. She knew her reaction was warranted, yet she could not shake the feeling of offense.

 


Main Bridge – a short time later


 

Wallace entered the bridge, so absorbed in his thoughts he was unprepared for the abrupt interruption of his first officer. “Captain, we’ve been detecting an anomalous reading approximately two light years from our present location,” Harris reported

Wallace was unprepared for the urgency in Harris’s voice, but quickly shifted his focus back to command. “What sort of reading?” 

A young Vulcan science officer broke away from her station and approached, her demeanor focused and professional. “Sirs, If I may, long-range sensors detect elevated emissions in the S-band frequency, approaching 3.8 gigahertz.” 

Wallace listened, nodding as he registered her input. “Lieutenant T’Nira, I appreciate your thoroughness as always, but we do have a schedule to keep. Launch a class seven probe and maintain course”

Harris exchanged a glance with T’Nira. She nodded at Harris, encouraging him to elaborate. “With respect, sir, there’s more. The frequency is a transmission… In English.”

Wallace’s eyes widened, his curiosity piqued. “English? You mean it’s been translated?”

Lieutenant T’Nira repeated the significance, her logical tone unwavering. “No, sir, the transmission was made in English. Logic suggests it is of Human origin.”

Wallace’s interest deepened. “Starfleet hasn’t used S-band communication in over two centuries, who the hell could be transmitting on that frequency all the way out here?” He moved closer to the science station, joined by Harris and T’Nira.

T’Nira slid her fingers gracefully across the display, presenting a detailed analysis of the signal’s waveform and complex equations. “I have located the source of the transmission—a G-type star system 1.94 lightyears from our present location. The system is largely unmapped due to frequent and intense ion storms in that sector.”

Wallace pretended to understand the technical data on the display, but his focus was on the curious element of this discovery. “You said the transmission was made in English? What does it say?”

Harris leaned over the console to add his input. “It’s just two words on repeat, Help Us.” 

Wallace’s intrigue mingled with concern, a subtle unease in his demeanor. “A distress call?”

T’Nira offered her logical analysis. “While I cannot offer a definitive explanation at this time, this does appear to be a distress call.”

Harris’s voice was firm. “Sir, whichever way you look at it, we have to alter course to investigate.”

Wallace stroked his beard as he considered the information before him, a tinge of apprehension shading his thoughts. The signal’s request for help was clear, yet the choice of the S-band frequency intrigued him. It made no sense for anyone to transmit on that frequency unless they were truly desperate. “Agreed. Number one, alter course and engage at maximum warp.” 

As he took the command chair, a flicker of excitement ignited within him, yet a subtle caution tempered it. The thrill of exploration, of unearthing the unknown, surged through him, rekindling a spark that had lain dormant amid the routine of his years. He kept his emotion concealed, but a sense of foreboding lingered beneath the surface, a shadow cast by the allure of the mysterious signal.

Wallace’s gaze became entranced by the starlit expanse, his eyes reflecting a blend of eagerness and uncertainty. As Harris assumed the helm, Wallace knew they were all stepping into the unknown, embracing the impending adventure and the secrets it might unveil.

 


Six weeks earlier – Hospital bay – Starbase Bravo


 

Wallace admired the pristine interior of the medical bay as he perched on the edge of the Bio-Bed, shirtless; he was busy slipping his boots back onto his feet while he waited for the doctor to return with his scan results.

The air in the room was frigid, a persistent reminder that he was more exposed than he liked. Goosebumps prickled along his arms, urging him to finish dressing and regain some warmth. He should have been eager to put this year’s physical behind him, but something gnawed at his insides, a lurking anxiety he couldn’t shake.

Footsteps approached from behind the curtain encircling his bay, making him brace himself for whatever news would follow. As the attending physician entered and drew the curtain behind him, Wallace felt exposed and vulnerable. “Sorry for your wait, Commander, things are still a little disorganised here,” the doctor apologised. 

Wallace continued tightening his boots, trying to hide his unease. “No problem doc, just eager to put this year’s physical behind me.”

The doctor’s silence hung in the air, punctuated by the tapping of his PADD. It was a silence that stoked the fires of anxiety growing within Wallace’s chest. “Something wrong?” he finally managed to ask, his voice strained.

The doctor, unable to delay any longer, dragged a stool to Wallace’s bedside and took a seat, locking eyes with the Commander. “It’s probably nothing to worry about, but we found some anomalous markers in your blood work. 

Wallace felt the words like a physical blow, each syllable a scalpel slicing into his chest. His throat went dry, and he struggled to find his voice.

“It could be anything from a simple infection to something more complex,” the doctor continued, “I’d like to run a few more tests to try and narrow it down.”

Wallace couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His mind raced with fearful thoughts.

“I wouldn’t worry but, It’s important to keep an open mind at th—” the doctor started.

Wallace cut him off, his vulnerability laid bare. “That won’t be necessary, Doctor.” He snatched his jacket and swung it around his shoulders as he rose to exit the bay.

The doctor was stunned by his patient’s reaction, “But Commander, I really do think we should run these tests!” he insisted.

Wallace paused as he slid the curtain back, torn between the inferno of anxiety in his heart and a sense of obligation to his health. “Thank you for your time doc, am I cleared for duty?” 

The doctor, still dumbfounded by his patient’s reaction could only respond with honesty to the question, “Well, yes, but I really think it’s in your best interests to—”

“I appreciate your concern Doctor, but there are some things I would prefer to live my life, not knowing.” Wallace cut in as he resumed his course towards the door.

The doctor was stunned, but he knew what this reaction likely meant. He’d read Wallace’s family history. “Your father was diagnosed when he was 40, correct?” 

Wallace felt as if he had been struck by a phaser, freezing him in place; he bowed his head, tears forming in his eyes. The memory of his father’s struggle resurfaced, vivid and painful. He recalled the long nights at his bedside watching his father’s strength wane, and the feeling of helplessness that had never truly left him.

The doctor approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Treatment is most effective before the manifestation of symptoms. An early diagnosis is vital to slowing—”

“Thank you, Doctor. But we both know the outcome is the same.” Wallace interrupted, allowing his vulnerability to show. “ 

The Doctor nodded with respect, understanding his patient’s decision. “Nothing is certain, Commander, medical science advances every day. Just don’t leave it too late to decide”

Wallace stepped out onto the promenade, conflicted by feelings of anxiety, pain, and regret. Perhaps he should carefully consider the Doctor’s advice; but deep down Wallace was terrified that a diagnosis would mean he would be sentenced to an untimely demise in a hospital bed, linked to a dozen machines in a futile effort to prolong his suffering.

As he made his way toward the docking bay his route took him along a long gantry with panoramic viewports along both walls. 

He stopped and took a moment to gaze into the pressurised dry dock where Thyanis was currently berthed. She was powered down and in the midst of receiving extensive upgrades and repairs. Worker bees swarmed around her, removing damaged panels and installing new ones, their efforts a symphony of precision. Her nacelles were stripped bare, exposing intricate networks of power conduits. She was at the mercy of the engineers to try and restore her to full operational status and for the moment she appeared completely vulnerable and dependent on the support systems of the starbase. Wallace couldn’t help but draw parallels between Thyanis’s refit and a possible future where he too might be just as reliant on doctors to restore his own vitality.

Wallace felt the warmth on his back begin to fade and turned his attention to the opposite viewport. An aging Centaur class starship was departing from the upper spacedock above him, casting a cooling shadow as her saucer began to occlude the Mellstroxx sun. Her hull still weathered by the marks of many battles and adventures of old. She was a starship born out of the necessity of the Dominion War when Starfleet was losing ships faster than they could be replaced, but she still had a purpose. A dignified existence exploring the unknown.  

With every new class of ship that Starfleet commissioned, her future was ever more uncertain, but her graceful departure as the sunlight returned to warm his face reminded Wallace that there was no shame in seeking a dignified retirement. That ship’s mission may well be her last, but she wore her scars with pride and continued to safely convey her crew to new adventures as if she were fresh off the production line. 

As he gazed at the contrasting scenes, Wallace couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own choices. One side offered the prospect of extending his useful life, the comfort of the known, like his ship being restored to her former glory. The other side held the allure of the unknown, an uncharted path, much like the uncertain future he might face if he dared to embrace it.

Part 2 – Fallen Angel

USS Thyanis
Late April 2401

The black veil of the cosmos was suddenly disrupted by a bright flash of visible light, ambient photons that were violently punched into high energy states as they collided with the hull USS Thyanis when she crossed the light speed barrier imparting her energy into the particles and causing them to luminesce in a poly-luminous burst.

As she rapidly slowed to subluminal speeds, the effect collapsed along with her warp bubble as her impulse reactors ignited.

On the bridge, Lieutenant T’Nira began her plethora of scans with a stoic and logical attitude. Prioritising each sensor sweep in order of intensity and relevance; she quickly and efficiently progressed through the standard scans and moved on to more complex and specific Interrogations. “Fascinating,” a brief slip of her resolve caused her to express her thoughts. 

Wallace sat comfortably in the command chair, his legs crossed and his arms relaxed dangling either side of the arms. His science officer’s reaction stimulated his curiosity enough for him to prompt an explanation, “Anything to report Lieutenant?”

“Captain, the S-Band transmission appears to be emanating from the fourth planet in this system, it appears to be M-Class,” T’Nira reported, her brow furled.

Wallace’s composure was unaffected by his science officer’s report, yet he was perplexed as to why she found an M-Class world fascinating. “And that’s unusual because?…”

“The statistical likelihood of a ship in distress successfully locating and landing safely upon an M-Class body is highly Improbable. I recommend we proceed with caution,” T’Nira explained.

Wallace took her concerns under advisement, but his responsibility to render aid was now at the forefront of his mind. It didn’t hurt to be cautious but that shouldn’t impact their efforts. “Maintain your scans, Lieutenant. Harris lay in a course!” 

Harris obeyed the command without question, engaging the Tyanis’s Impulse drive and skilfully plotting their transit across the star system. Within minutes the viewscreen was filled with the pale blue glow of the planet’s nitrogen-oxygen-rich atmosphere, as Harris concluded his performance of skill by nestling their ship into a standard orbit.

All eyes on the bridge were locked onto the viewscreen, entranced by the planet’s lush continents and temperate weather. “Looks a lot like Earth,” LT Garcia said, mesmerised by the view.

Abruptly, a piercing alarm from the Science console cut through the calm and hushed environment of the bridge, triggering everyone to turn their attention to LT T’Nira.

“Captain, sensors are detecting an energy signature on the northern continent,” T’Nira reported.

“What sort of energy signature?” Wallace asked his undivided attention now upon his science officer.

T’Nira paused for a moment, working her console and trying to cross-reference the data. “Unknown, its signature does not match any known forms of energy. But its amplitude is increasing rapidly.”

Wallace felt a sickening anxiety build in his stomach. Still, before he could process it and formulate an instruction, he felt his neck snap violently to one side as the inertial dampers struggled to react to a sudden jolt. The deck shook vigorously, unsettling everyone who was standing as they clung to their consoles for support.

Automatically, the ship’s computer registered the tremor as a threat and initiated a ship-wide red alert condition. The standard lighting dimmed as the LCARS displays across the bridge all turned red, coupled with an ear-rupturing klaxon and pulsing red glow from the auxiliary lights.

“Captain! our orbit is destabilising!” Harris shouted as he fought for control of his vessel.

“We are caught in some sort of tractor beam!” T’Nira reported, her stoic composure remaining unphased in response to the situation.

“All engines reverse full! Harris! Maintain altitude. Garcia! lock phasers on the beam’s source!” Wallace ordered, his resolve under pressure was unwavering. He appeared calm and comfortable in a crisis, like a Swan gliding across a lake. 

The lights and consoles began to flicker as if Thyanis’s life was being drained from her. “Main power is failing, weapons and shields are off-line!” Garcia reported, glancing over at her damage control interface.

“We’re entering the ionosphere, hull temperatures rising!” Harris’s voice strained with tension as he desperately fought for control. His teeth, grinding as his muscle memory kicked in and he felt the overwhelming need to pull hard on a physical control that was not there.

Wallace watched in horror as orange plasma began to form ahead of their vessel, indicating that re-entry was inevitable. “Keep her steady commander! do what you can to manage our descent!” 

The tone on the bridge had changed dramatically in the space of a few minutes. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to gauge the fear and anxiety in the crew from the way they chose to focus on their work and do everything they could to avert their eyes from the viewscreen.

Thyanis ripped through the atmosphere with as much grace and elegance as a flying brick. The flames began to subside, leaving scorch marks across the hull which continued to smoulder as she fell further into the atmosphere. The terrain was approaching rapidly, it would have been the most picturesque vista had it not been for the current crisis. Miles of lush green forest bordered by stunningly White snow-covered mountain peaks.

Harris’s efforts in trying to coax the ship out of her free fall began to pay off as to his relief the retro thrusters began to fire, slowing their descent from a suicidal dive to a more or less graceful glide. “Helm control restored!” He announced, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Can you get us back in orbit?” Wallace asked, hoping for a glimmer of hope.

Harris tried plotting an ascent trajectory but as he tried to engage the impulse engines, he felt helm control begin to slip away again, “Negative! Impulse not responding!” 

Wallace measured the expressions on his bridge crew’s faces and knew that there was only one option left. “Deploy landing gear, try and set us down in one of those clearings!” 

Harris was already two steps ahead, he had trained for crash landings as a pilot and had already identified a suitable landing zone.

Thyanis was now below the cloud layer. Mountains towered above her casting shadows across the hull as she flew through their shade. The trees were only a few hundred feet below her and she was still in only a partially controlled descent.

Putting his crew management skills to good use, Harris activated his comm badge and contacted the Chief in the engineering bay, “Harris to Catterick, on my mark, I need all the power you can divert to thrusters and inertial dampers!”

Martin didn’t ask questions, he just acknowledged the request and waited for the command. He may not have been aware of the exact situation, but the rattle and vibration of the ship was a dead giveaway that they were operating outside of normal procedures.

The clearing appeared to grow in size through the viewscreen as they hurtled towards it, everyone was subconsciously gripping onto whatever they could for dear life as the seconds that passed by felt like an eternity.

Harris remained fixated on his landing area, trying his best to maintain an optimal glide ratio. He knew that they would likely only have a few seconds of useful flight when the thrusters fired, he wanted to make sure he was as low as possible so they didn’t end up dropping like a stone. “Standby… Now Chief!”

“All hands brace for Impact!” Wallace echoed as his first officer initiated their terminal descent, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the unknown. He had every faith that Harris would be able to get them down safely, but he was a realist and was not able to ignore the possibility of failure.

The starboard bustard collector briefly dipped below the forest canopy, tearing a hole through the upper foliage. The casing shattered immediately on impact, showering the forest floor with debris and sparks. Moments later every thruster port on the ship’s belly and bow fired simultaneously, rapidly arresting the descent and forward velocity. 

What little lift there was rapidly melted away and Thyanis hit the ground hard, her landing struts carving into the soil for a short distance before she came to rest at almost the exact center of the clearing. Her engines immediately powered down and as the ship cooled she almost seemed to breathe a sigh of relief herself with a gentle hiss.

Harris secured his console and assumed the executive officer role in Ernest. The ship had no need for a pilot for the time being, his time would be better served helping coordinate the crew in the wake of their situation. “Damage report?” He requested.

“Largely superficial, there’s plasma damage to the forward hull, starboard nacelle has suffered impact damage, and the starboard landing gear has buckled… Casualty reports coming in,” Garcia reported, ignoring her own discomfort as the impact had caused her to bang her head against the console, blood was streaming over her right eye but she refused to let it distract her. “Four wounded, nothing serious Captain.”

Wallace permitted himself a moment to take stock of the situation. They had survived a spontaneous, rapid, barely controlled forced landing and now it was time to work out the cause and plan what to do next. “Garcia, get yourself down to sickbay, get that eyebrow looked at… T’Nira, start trying to work out what the hell just happened, Harris, I want a briefing with the senior officers in one hour Port-side mess.”

Olivia made no objection as she handed over her console to another officer and made her way aft towards the infirmary. She knew she would have been fine to continue working but they were for want of a better explanation, marooned in an uncharted world. The captain would likely be relying on her skills as a security officer in the coming hours and he would need her with a clean bill of health.

As the adrenaline of the situation began to wear off, an atmosphere of somewhat normal operations returned to the bridge as everyone began downloading and saving their data. Regardless of how the situation panned out from here on, there would be an investigation into how Thyanis managed to crash land and even the most seemingly insignificant bit of data might hold the key to explaining why.

 

 

Part 3 – The Prime Directive

USS Thyanis
Late April 2401

There was a unanimous feeling of relief across the faces of the senior staff as they took their seats around the port side mess hall. Its spacious environment and ample seating meant that everyone could attend the briefing in relative comfort with the option of a chair for every officer and plenty of food replicators to provide hot beverages and a snack if one was so inclined.

“So this is what briefings on a California class must feel like,” Garcia suggested with a hint of satire; a concept that the Vulcan science officer sat to her left was unable to grasp.

“I fail to see the logic of your comparison Lieutenant, Thyanis is not a California class vessel,” T’Nira stated, applying her cold and unwavering logic to Olivia’s playful statement was like dropping ice cubes into a pot of steaming coffee; it killed the warmth of the room.

Wallace was yet to take his seat, he stood gazing out of the port-side window at the landscape they now found themselves deposited in. It was still night-time and a clear one at that. The stars glistened overhead casting a subtle glow across the valley. The trees swayed softly in the breeze, Wallace could almost hear the rustling of their leaves through the transparent aluminium of the window. He tried to imagine himself lying on his back in the meadow, looking up at the stare and trying to identify the constellations. It was something he always enjoyed as a child and something that he had sadly neglected to indulge in for some time.

“Captain, you ready to start?” Wallace’s brief moment of serenity was sharply cut off by his first officer trying to bring the meeting to some order. He turned and looked at a fully staffed table, ready to discuss the reality of their situation. “Sorry number one, I was miles away…” Wallace explained as he took a seat at the head of the table.

He turned to stare at his Vulcan science officer and set the meeting in motion by promoting her for her report, “T’Nira, any explanation for what happened?”

“I have examined the sensor logs from the time Thyanis entered orbit of the planet.” T’Nira placed a PADD at the centre of the table and set it to holo-display her data in a graphical representation of what happened.

“Precisely 36.84 seconds after establishing a stable orbit, sensors detected an energy signature from the planet’s surface which was focused into an intense beam and directed precisely at Thyanis. The beam acted as both a dampening field and a tractor beam, effectively disrupting Thyanis’s engine output and pulling the ship from orbit.”

The display echoed T’Nira’s detailed explanation in both accuracy and thoroughness; showing the vessel essentially ripped out of orbit by the beam.

“Are you saying we were attacked?” Garcia questioned.

“Not quite Lieutenant, the sensors show that the beam disengaged the moment Thyanis entered the atmosphere. If we would have had more time to prepare the ship, I am confident we could have made a safe and efficient landing.” Replied T’Nira.

“But that doesn’t mean we weren’t attacked, you don’t just pull ships out of orbit before opening hails if you don’t want to pick a fight!” Garcia added, growing frustrated that the Vulcan couldn’t see her way of thinking.

“But it also doesn’t mean that we were attacked Lieutenant, the power of the beam was more than sufficient to cause significant damage to Thyanis, or destroy the ship entirely. It could also have prevented us from landing safely but didn’t… Logic suggests that the intent was not necessarily malicious.” T’Nira responded.

“Any clues as to who operated the beam?” Wallace prompted, looking to subdue the abrasion between T’Nira and Garcia.

“None that I could find, however, I have pinpointed the source of the beam to a settlement approximately 10 kilometres from our present location, we would be wise to begin our investigation there,” Said T’Nira

“Do we know anything about the population?” Harris asked curiously.

“I regret to report that sensors were unable to make any detailed scans. However, we should be cautious. I have not yet been able to detect evidence of Anti-Matter technology since we entered the system, the indigenous population, may, be at a Pre-Warp stage of development.” T’Nira explained

“If there’s a chance they are less advanced, shouldn’t we send out a distress call and wait for rescue?” asked Garcia with the most sincere tone, indicating genuine concern.

“We can’t risk endangering another starship until we know more about the beam, and if they send a larger ship to our aid, there’s no telling the damage that could be done if anything larger than an Intrepid class was to be pulled from orbit.” Wallace made his position clear. 

From the head of the table, he reached forward and switched the display over to a map of their current location on the surface and began hatching a plan. “Garcia, take one other security officer and beam just outside of town. Try and find out at least what they look like, what they’re wearing, and how they talk.” The moment Wallace gave his instructions, eyebrows raised across the room. 

Direct observation of primitive cultures was a practice seldom endorsed by command because of its inherent risks of discovery. Prosthetics and make-up can only carry you so far, and even the best disguises aren’t perfect. “You should have a few hours of darkness left before dawn so use them wisely, be back on board before twilight, and keep in constant communication, understood?” Wallace added.

Garcia nodded, she had her concerns about risking discovery, but night-time reconnaissance was certainly less likely to arouse any unwanted attention.

“In the meantime, Harris, get to work with the Chief on making repairs and getting Thyanis space worthy again!” 

Both Harris and Martin acknowledged their orders from the captain and began discreetly bouncing a few ideas off each other while the Commander paused for a moment.

“Make no mistake people, If it is a pre-warp society on this planet then we’ve got a pretty big problem. We now have several problems to work on and not a lot of time. First priority is the Tractor beam, that’s not a technology one would expect a primitive civilization to have access to. Then there’s the matter of our elusive distress call on the S-band.” Wallace began addressing the room as a whole, setting the record straight. 

“Be mindful of the Prime Directive, assume that the culture may have already been potentially contaminated, and do everything you can to reduce further contamination. Once we know more about the population, it’s probably best we try to blend in while we make inquiries… 

We go in, ask about, see what we can find out, and get out once we’re sure that the beam isn’t going to cause us further problems Starfleet can send a better, more equipped crew to clean up the mess later.

Once we’ve secured our exit, I’ll make an assessment of the merits of a search and rescue in regard to the distress call. Any questions?”

The room remained silent and Wallace took this to mean there was a unanimous understanding. “In that case, dismissed!” 

A short time later – Village outskirts


 

After being cooped up inside Thyanis for several months, Olivia began to realise how much she missed being planet side, and were the stakes not so high, she might have even enjoyed the late-night hike through the forest. A cool breeze on her face, the soothing sound of leaves rustling, as well as the subtle timbre of water trickling down a stream.

She began to think to herself that this planet was almost too perfect an example of Minshara Class, untouched by the choking grip of an industrial revolution. 

As she grew closer to the edge of the settlement, a warming glow of flame fell upon her face. The locals appeared to be awake and gathered around a bonfire in the middle of town.

The settlement itself was relatively small, with only six buildings set out in a rough square. Four appeared to be residences, Then there was some sort of dining hall and what appeared to be a church. At the centre of town, there was, of course, the bonfire, several benches, and some unusual device of technology unfamiliar to Garica.

She and her colleague moved in as close as they dared and sought concealment behind a couple of crates. They were just within earshot of the townspeople and well within range of their Tricorders. As Garcia and her enlisted companion began to interrogate their scanning devices, they began overhearing a discussion. 

“I’m telling you, something crashed about Ten clicks from here, it looked like an aircraft!”

“Aircraft? Listen to yourself, we’re in middle of nowhere, no-one even be knowing we’re here. It’s been months and we haven’t heard anything from home. Face it, No-one is coming, you need to be getting this into your head my friend, probably just a meteorite.”

“Oh, give it a rest Seirgei! They had our trajectory locked in, wont be long before they find the crash site, it is probably just a massive search grid. I’m with Collins, we should at least check it out!”

“Yeah, if Collins is right they might need rescuing themselves, but there’s bound to be a radio we can use to call for help!”

“Enough! I already tried satellite phone at the crash site, It not work! We have been sitting here waiting for rescue too long. Time we packed up and try luck someplace else!”

“Seirgei, if we move on, we’ll be harder to find. At least this town’s got enough food for a long while. But we won’t even need it if I’m right”

Garcia was so stunned at her Tricorder readings and what she was hearing, she became complacent with her balance whilst crouched and slipped her foot in the dirt, causing an agonising scraping sound that almost echoed.

“What was that?” one of the townspeople said having heard the noise of Garcia’s blunder immediately.

Garcia peaked through a small gap in the crates and watched in horror as the silhouettes of four individuals appeared to be approaching her position. Instinctively she activated her com-badge.

The townspeople arrived at the crates within seconds, only to witness the final microseconds of the Transporter sequence. “Just fireflies, nothing to worry about” one of the townspeople announced. At the same time, another was more closely inspecting the ground behind the crate, “Yeah, but since when do fireflies leave footprints?” he said, pointing out the clearly defined outline of two pairs of boots, with a perfectly imprinted Starfleet Delta on their souls.

 

Moments Later – USS Thyanis Transporter Room


 

The Transporter sequence concluded, and both away team members fully re-materialised safe and sound.

Waiting to greet them, Commander Jones eagerly awaited a situation report and an explanation as to why she triggered an emergency transport. “What happened?” he said.

“The situation just got a whole lot more or less complicated sir, depending on how you look at it” Garcia stated, simply presenting the memory recall from her Tricorder to the Commander.

Wallace’s eyes widened with surprise as he took hold of the device. On the display, is an analysis of the Townspeople’s genome.

“They’re Human!”

Part 4 – Uncovering the past

USS Thyanis
Late April 2401

At the foot of the ladder Garcia waited patiently for her Captain to descend the rungs and accompany her down the hall.

“From what they were saying, the crash site must be nearby,” Garcia explained as she followed a step behind the Commander.

“So they’re most likely the source of our distress signal?” Wallace asked.

“It’s possible sir, but one of them saw the Thyanis crash. He was trying to convince the others to come search for our location so they could call for help.” Garcia’s timbre lowered, “Although, He didn’t seem to recognise Thyanis as a starship, and he was talking about trying to get a message out on the radio.”

Wallace couldn’t contain a subtle chuckle in response to the Lieutenant’s naivety. “The term ‘Radio’ was once used broadly to describe many forms of communication, he was probably expanding the definition to subspace communication.”

“Respectfully sir, I don’t think so.” Garcia objected, suddenly overtaking and stepping before the Commander to gain his attention.

“He described the Radio like an object as if he thought the Thyanis would be equipped with one, and his companions seemed to understand exactly what he was talking about!” 

“What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?” Wallace asked, curious as to the nature of his security officer’s hypothesis.

Garcia paused for a moment, trying to process her thoughts. She wasn’t a scientist, but as an investigator, she understood human behaviour like an expert. There was something about the man she mentioned, the way he spoke and described what he saw. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it and explain it simply for the commander, but she knew that he wasn’t using a metaphor when he talked about the radio.

“I’m not sure yet sir, all I know is that everything I know about human behaviour is telling me that he genuinely didn’t recognise Thyanis… he called us an Aircraft, not a spaceship or starship…That’s a pretty unusual way to describe the ship don’t you think?” Said Garcia.

Wallace pondered for a moment, looking at the floor and stroking his goatee. “You have a point… Let’s see what the team searching for the crash site finds…maybe it will shed some more light on who these people are.”

 

Meanwhile – 6 Kilometres East of Thyanis

“I can’t remember the last time I went on an away mission that didn’t involve an engine room or a warp nacelle, being an engineer doesn’t exactly get you interesting assignments all the time commander.” Said Chief Catterick, passing the time as he and Harris made progress through the dense forest.

“It’s kinda lucky Thyanis wasn’t too badly damaged, or the captain might have recommended you send a crewman to accompany me!” Harris replied, gingerly stepping over a fallen branch in his path; the crunch of dried leaves under his feet.

“Can I ask why you picked me sir?” asked Martin, his tone oozing a curious disposition.

“I know a starship when I see one, and you’re the best engineer on the ship, I might need your skills,” Harris responded earnestly.

“I understand this ship is supposed to have crashed, are we planning on getting it flying again?” Martin pressed.

Harris stood his ground, turned back, and looked his companion in the eye, “Martin… for the love of God, just enjoy the fresh air.”

With Harris’s next step, the crunch under his foot suddenly turned hollow and metallic. Both men looked at each other in surprise as they both drew their Tricorders and began their scans.

“I’m reading components of Titanium, Silica glass, copper, gold, and magnesium,” Harris reported.

“I’m also picking up a chemical propulsion system, hypergolic propellants… I don’t know anyone in the federation who still uses this kind of technology.” Martin pointed out.

Harris had scanned enough, he put his tricorder away and knelt down where he stood. He began sweeping away the debris on the forest floor; twigs, dead leaves, and a layer of topsoil.

Slowly, his efforts began to reveal an emblem imprinted upon the hull of the vessel that was apparently now buried beneath them.

“ARCHIMEDES 1”

“UNITED STATES OF AMERICA”

Sandwiched between the two lines of text, the unmistakable star-spangled banner of the land of the free and home of the brave.

Harris tapped his communicator, “Tan to Thyanis, we’ve found the crash site, and I think we have a pretty good idea who our townspeople are!”

Sunrise – USS Thyanis Transporter room.

 

Commander Jones and Lieutenant Commander Tan stormed into the Transporter room with purpose, Wallace led whilst listening to his first officer’s report. “You’re sure it was the Archimedes one? It couldn’t have been a probe or some other space debris?” Wallace asked as he unlocked the Transporter console.

“Sir, I know my historical ship’s, I’m absolutely sure. I ran a geological scan, the wreckage is almost completely buried in bedrock, but it’s dimensions and specifications match…sir, it’s the Archimedes alright!” Harris responded, locking eyes with his commanding officer in order to transmit his sincerity.

Wallace procrastinated, tapping the console nervously. “Well, we’ll know for sure in a moment either way… or I’m about to get us into a lot of trouble!”

Wallace’s hands glided over the console. His fingers,  delicately calibrating the targeting scanners into alignment. “I’ve got one individual separate from the others, hopefully if we work fast he won’t be missed.” Wallace confirmed his selection and locked the Transporter onto his target, he then hovered his hand over the initiation control and hesitated; shooting a final glance to his first officer, “last chance to back out.” He said with a grave look of doubt and concern on his face.

“Wallace, trust me… it’s the Archimedes!” Harris responded, his voice strained with anticipation.

“Very well, energising!” Wallace engaged the Transporter sequence, and the machinery began to hum and growl as it came to life. 

Shower of blue light coalesced into the crude form of a human being, steadily becoming more and more recognisable as a man now stood on the pad. “Setting the pattern buffer to hold him in stasis.” Wallace announced, effectively freezing the man where he stood. The technique was quite safe, and if his pattern was returned before fully materialising then Wallace knew he should only feel a little light headed, and have no memory of having been beamed onto the Thyanis

“Computer, run a DNA analysis on the individual currently held in the pattern buffer, cross reference with available records for all known 21st century records for the Archimedes one mission.” Harris requested as he typed away on his PADD, searching for a matching personnel profile.

“DNA ANALYSIS COMPLETE. TRANSPORTER PATTERN IS A MATCH FOR ONE COLONEL MICHAEL HANNON. MISSION COMMANDER & COMMAND MODULE PILOT. ARCHIMEDES ONE” 

The computer had spoken, both Harris and Commander Jones couldn’t help but express their amazement in the expression on their faces. “Believe me now sir?” Harris jested.

Wallace was still sceptical, “This doesn’t make any sense, the Archimedes went missing over 300 years ago, how is he still alive after all this time, and as youthful as the day they left?” Wallace questioned rhetorically, pondering several possibilities before he was abruptly interrupted by an alarm from the Transporter console. “The pattern is losing cohesion, we need to send him back!”

“Sir, if I may?” Harris stepped behind the console and Indicated he wanted to take over the controls. With limited time left he began a scan of the Colonel’s pattern for abnormalities.

“Hurry it up Harris! We don’t want the fail-safes to kick in and materialise him here on the deck…send him back! Now Commander!” Wallace ordered, watching the computer count down on the console in front of him.

“Just a sec, we might not get another chance to…” All of a sudden, the background hum of the energised Transporter pad began to fade, the absence of its electro mechanical buzz struck a sharp pain of anxiety into Harris’s heart. Sheepishly he began to look up to see the Colonel stood looking confused, amazed and terrified all at the same time. He cursed under his breath, realising his time had run out.

“What the… where am I!… who the hell are you?…and how’d I get here!” The colonel began to yell as consciousness found him in his state of confusion.

Quick to try and calm the situation, Wallace approached the pad, arms outstretched and palms showing, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “Colonel, please…try to remain calm, we mean you no harm…”

Wallace’s words seldom appeared to soothe the Colonel who was now entering a fight or flight response, “You’re with ECON!” 

“NO!..no, we’re not your enemy Colonel! We’re here to help, if you’ll just let me explain!” Wallace desperately tried to negotiate, the then noticed the Colonel’s eyes fixate on something behind Harris. Wallace took a brief glance and noticed the Master Situation Display on the back wall of the Transporter room.

“U.S.S?…you guys US Navy?” The Colonel asked, his voice somewhat calmer.

“Well, not exactly.” Wallace replied, hesitant to reveal the whole truth as he tried to think of how best to handle the situation. He took a deep sigh and swallowed his pride, approaching the situation head on. “I am Commander Wallace Jones, you are aboard the Federation Starship Thyanis. I’m happy to answer all your questions in good time, but you should know, some of the answers to those questions might be a little difficult to digest.” 

Wallace and the Colonel exchanged eye contact, both men trying to read the other’s expressions. This was far from an ideal situation, and one that Wallace had hoped to avoid at all costs. Alas there was no turning back now, he would just have to make the best out of an undesirable situation and try to salvage something of a rapport with their guest.