“Made me learn a little bit faster.

Made my skin a little bit thicker.

Makes me that much smarter.

So, thanks for making me a fighter.”

Christina Aguilera & Scott Spencer – Storch. (2003).

If you had only 5 minutes left to live, how would you choose to spend it?

It’s a weighty hypothetical, but one that rings true once the bell that sounds to define who a person really is begins to toll it last; when all vestiges of animus, pretention and obligation are finally stripped away.

Faced with the certainty of imminent death, what actions would we take and how would those actions define ourselves?

Predictably (but understandably), when faced with the death – knell of their own mortal coil, most would elect to spend those last, precious, moments with those most precious to them – should the opportunity arise. It’s an intrinsically human instinct to want to reach out to our loved ones to tell them in those precious last moments that they are loved and to seek reassurance that you too are loved, in turn, by them.

It’s a worthy use of the diminishing time that you have left.

Others (probably entirely keeping with how they have chosen to live that life up until that terminal point) opt for a ribald last ‘hurrah’ and immerse themselves in a last – minutes wallow in penultimate hedonism. Vainly seeking to control their own oblivion by seeking oblivion through alcohol, drugs or pleasure of the flesh. They have never been around for a long time, so they are determined to have a good time in what little time they have left.

One suspects that few will miss them, save perhaps a small number of barkeeps and call – girls.

Some gravitate towards self – ingratiating sorrow. Faced with the ultimate truth, they look inside themselves to take stock of all they are and what they have failed to become and, ultimately, find themselves lacking.

More often than not, this last cohort choose to exit the world in hasty manner of their own choosing, so to cheat Death of its latest victory.

Then there is the Starfleet Officer.

The United Federation of Planets does not choose lightly the young men and women (and those somewhere in-between) that are permitted to enter the hallowed ranks of the Starfleet Academy. Whilst no one person can really say how they may act in their final hour, the cadets that are groomed throughout their four years at this prestigious learning institution are conditioned to deport themselves with bravery and honor.

Whilst this might not ultimately exclude them from final oblivion, a graduate of the Academy can more often than not be counted upon to face their final hours refusing to bow to the inevitable and drawing upon every reserve of ingenuity, resolve and character to fight the odds until the very last second and do all they can to ensure the survival of others.

It’s what makes Starfleet what it is.

Which is why, as the 22^nd century NX – 03 – class vessel, the ‘SS Challenger’ found herself in dire need of redemption as it slowly succumbed to the irresistible compulsion of the gravity well of a main – series star and her own crew faced their own choice of how to spend their last five minutes, that their salvation would ultimately come in the form of those from a future that had been assured by the steps those early pioneers had so Boldy –  trodden.

A fortuitous development that in itself held a pleasing symmetry.

In the cramped and utilitarian main – engineering space of the NX – class, three indistinct points of bright golden light suddenly came into being. Dancing motes of relativistic fairy fire that hung shimmering in mid-air as they wavered and grew, quickly becoming an enthralling swirl of complex energies as they conformed and coalesced into distinctly humanoid forms and finally deposited three travelers distinct from this time and space into being.

Dressed in civilian attire, three women stepped forward and immediately took in their surroundings.

“I can’t believe that we’re actually here!” Breathed Ensign Macey Lewis, despite herself. “I saw the NX-01 Enterprise on display at the Fleet Museum once, when I was in the Academy, but this! To be aboard a real, live one on deployment…well brother!”

Lieutenant Rani Ojha frowned disapprovingly and admonished her companion.

“Eyes on the prize, Ensign.” The stern – faced Operations Officer warned. “In four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, you too will be consigned to history if we don’t managed to restore power to this ship!”

Captain Samantha Hyland gazed around the iconic engineering space. Like many cadets, she too had spent long hours in holo-simulations at the Academy, learning the historical systems of the NX – class as her instructors sought to teach their students the rudiments of warp – core engineering.

She could perhaps forgive Ensign Lewis her sense of wonderment. It was hard to ignore that they really were standing in history, but Rani was right – the clock was ticking and every moment they wasted was one more second that the Challenger slipped closer to its final end.

“Why is there nobody here?” Sam murmured to herself as she cast her gaze around the space.

Indeed, they were alone in Engineering. The red – alert emergency lighting strobed away and the venerable old warp – core glowed falteringly, but of the Engineers that routinely saw to the needs of the ships systems and should have been feverishly engaged at this very moment in the frantic effort to restore power to the impulse engines – there was no sign.

Macey Lewis recovered from her nostalgia and drew out her Tricorder and began to scan the systems of the NX – vessel to determine what ailed it.

“Warp core is functional Captain.” The pilot reported after a brief moment scanning the data being returned by the sophisticated 25^th century device. The tricorder arguably had more computing power that the Challenger’s entire computer core, yet it was working with relatively unsophisticated technology which lacked some of the contemporary parameters that it was designed to work with.

“Well, that’s one piece of good news.” Lieutenant Ojha remarked dryly, drawing out her own tricorder. “Environmental systems are beginning to fail under the increased demand, pretty soon we won’t be able to work in here.”

The temperature within the engineering space was rising noticeably as the ship descended further towards the surface of the raging Sun, so much so that condensation was beginning to form on the maintenance gantries that flanked the low oval of the NX – vessel’s warp reactor and dripped ponderously onto the women below as the ship was buffeted by the thermal output of the star into whose depths they were descending.

“EPS power is being outputted from the Warp Reactor’s MEN.” Samantha observed as she approached the power distribution relay. “”But it doesn’t seem to be routing to the Main – Impulse manifold?” The Captain concluded as she waved the device over the equipment in question.

Macey joined the CO and began to scan the pathways leading from the distribution node to the critical engines that were essential to restore power to, if the away team was to halt the 22^nd century vessel’s slide into the inevitability of annihilation.

“The EPS feed terminates at this junction here, Captain.” Lewis commented as she tucked down on her haunches and followed the train of a conduit with the scanning device.

Samantha approached a maintenance hatch and searched around for an appropriate tool to access the cover. Her eyes alighted on a pneumatic torque wrench (pneumatic!) and her hands close around its grip as she hefted the tool and returned to join the Ensign.

One by one she removed the stem – bolts that secured the cover to its housing, the CO working methodically but quickly until the last bolt was removed and the plate was removed, revealing the maintenance – alcove inside.

Her heart sank.

Inside the componentry was slagged. Someone had obviously subjected the apparatus to a sustained stream of energy, most likely from a hand – phaser. The oily smell of burnt hydrocarbons and blood – tang of scorched copper components assailed tier nostrils.

“This has been sabotaged.” Samantha realized grimly.

Lieutenant Ojha joined them at that point and commented from over Sam’s shoulder.

“Could it just be the result of an EPS overload. The pattern buffers on this old tech would have a hard time dealing with any phase – variance of any magnitude, records show that they used to burn out all of the time?”

Samantha considered this possibility briefly, then shook her head.

“No this is deliberate. Look at the plasma whorling and splatter pattern on the circuit – boards here, an EPS arc – flash would have caused damage more focused from the point of failure that would diminish as the charge dissipated. Here there’s no such pattern, it’s like someone set a phaser to low intensity and played it across the componentry, trying to do as much damage to as many systems as possible in a short matter of time.”

“But why?” Macey wondered out loud. “What possible motivation would someone have for sabotaging their own ship, especially when it’s in so much immediate danger? That just doesn’t make sense at all!”

Sam nodded, “There’s a whole lot of things that don’t make sense, Ensign. A NX – Class ship has a crew compliment of 83 souls, but where are they? There are answers here, I’m sure of it, but nothing will matter at all unless we can restore power to the impulse drive. Suggestions?”

Rani thought for a moment. As an Operations Chief, she had an extensive knowledge of EPS system distribution and management on contemporary 25^th century vessels. Faced with the prospect on troubleshooting the great – grandparent of such technology, she was confident that she could arrive at a solution to jury – rig a repair in time.

“All Starships, regardless of lineage, conform to the same constants when it comes to the physics of electro-technology.” Rani nodded confidently and took up the torque wrench from where the Captain had laid the tool down on the deck – plating.

“Every EPS system produces excess electrical charge and requires a system for grounding, to transfer electrons between the charged object and a ground of substantial size to balance the charge – otherwise the distribution network will carry excess charge which can overload and damage more sensitive receivers in the circuit.” The OPS Chief explained as she considered the layout of the equipment arrayed before her and sought out another service hatch. She knelt and began to remove the cover, just as the Captain had done before.

“If we locate the Static Eliminator within the EPS transmission grid to the Impulse drive generator, we should be able to re-route the polarity flow away from the damaged junction and restore power to the drive.” Rani explained patiently as she worked.

“Great idea, but work fast as we have less that two minutes to restore impulse before the hull begins to suffer a catastrophic integrity breach!” Ensign Lewis warned as she scanned the bulkhead closest to her. The material was already furnace hot and Macey was perspiring profusely just through her proximity to it.

“Last bolt!” Rani assured her and swung the service hatch upwards and out.

She stopped and swore vociferously in Urdu.

“کتّے کے بیٹے!!!!” Ojha’s stern face creased in frustration and she turned to reveal the source of her consternation. Instead of where the Static Eliminator was supposed to be, an empty slot mocked them instead!

“So, it’s definitely sabotage!” Captain Hyland confirmed seriously, as she took in the grim connotation of the missing part.

The deck beneath them began to buffet and shudder as the Challenger began to descend further into the ever – thickening thermal wave-front of the star, various alarms keened for the attention of an Engineering crew that were not there to respond and several gouts of steam began to burst forth from manifolds in the warp – drive cooling system as the fluids they held vaporized in the increasing heat.

“We’ll have to evacuate and call in the Vigilant to stop our descent with the tractor beams after all!” Macey worried with good reason.

Sam considered that option. Lieutenant – Commander T’Shon had been most adamant in her warning around disruption of the current timeline. The USS Vigilant’s all – out dash to reach the current position of the stricken United Earth Starfleet vessel had already chanced the odds of attracting the terrifying attentions of the Loom.

Samantha wasn’t sure how much luck she had left to push.

Shaking her head, the CO tapped her Commbadge to open a channel.

“Away team to the Vigilant.” She sent.

=^= “Vigilant here. Go ahead Away Team.=^= Came Commander Rozu’s assured tones over the crackling channel.

“Commander. I need an EPS Static Eliminator module for an NX – era starship replicated and beamed to my position immediately. Yesterday would be better!” Samantha ordered as the bulkheads in the engineering section began to emit a torturous, resonating moan.

The ship was dying.

=^= “Making it so. Stand by Away Team.” The Executive Officer confirmed quickly and Sam was glad that the Commander seemed to be a decisive man who could focus under pressure. After all, her life depended upon it right now.

Sam turned to Rani and ordered.

“Lieutenant , prepare to receive the replacement module. It’ll be cutting it fine, but you have to get it fitted!”

“Aye aye, Ma’am.” Rani nodded firmly as she began to search around for the right tools to assist her when the part was beamed across from the USS Vigilant.

Sam turned to Macey and nodded.

“Ensign? You’re with me! I’m not sure what state the crew is in, if they are alive at all, but its imperative that we get to the bridge by the time that the Lieutenant manages to restore power to the impulse engines. Do you think that you can fly us to a safe orbit.

Macey grinned broadly, despite the mounting danger.

“Captain. If you put wings on a filing – cabinet, I could fly the sucker!” The pilot nodded confidently.

Despite herself, Samantha grinned too. Bravado like that was infectious and if Lewis could make good on her promise, then they might just live to see beyond the next minute and a half. She was about to turn and strike a path to the ladder that would lead them to the access to the Starboard pontoon when she was stopped in her tracks by a strident voice.

Upon on the service gantry stood a man dressed in the blue coverall uniform of a United Earth Starfleet Officer. A thin piping of gold braiding mantled his chest and shoulders and four oblong rank – pips on his chest spoke of his Captaincy.

One hand gripped the rapidly – heating rail of the gantry and in his other, Roy Dunsel grimly held a handphaser which he was quite definitely was training in the direction of the Away Team. He bled from a wound somewhere in his scalp and his face was contorted with indignant rage as he bellowed.

“Who the HELL are you people and what are you doing to MY SHIP!?”