Story:Star Trek: Federalist/Fait Accompli

Fait Accompli
"Captain, I'm picking up a Federation distress signal." The Ferengi officer reporter from the tactical console. "This far out?" Deet was surprised. "Any message? Can you identify the ship?" "No, Captain. It's a general distress call, definitely on a Federation carrier wave. It seems to be heavily distorted... coming from an uncharted star system on a course of 529 mark 3." "Lay in a course, Mr. En'thaas." The Aenar helmsman tapped the raised braille buttons on his tactile helm interface. The Federalist changed course before jumping to warp. "Estimated time to arrival?" The Captain asked her helmsman. "One hour, 22 minutes." he responded. "Mr. Atom, what is the closest Federation ship to our position?" The Android accessed his positronic database "The U.S.S. Revere is currently assigned to survey systems in the Eridan Belt." "Could this be a signal from them?" The Captain inquired. "Highly unlikely, Captain. We passed near the Revere last week. If their course had brought them here, that course would have been roughly parallel to our own. They would have shown on our sensors all along." "It seems that we have a mystery." Deet's curiosity was piqued, "But whoever they are, they apparently need our help." --- The Federalist arrived in the unexplored system. The signal led them to the orbit of the fourth planet in the system. "It is a class M planet, readings from the surface are... sporadic." Atom reported unsurely. Aznia walked over to the science console to look over his shoulder. "What is causing all of this interference?" she pointed to a garbled display. "I am trying to get a scanner lock on the source of the distress beacon... the atmosphere seems to have a strange chronometric flux that is distorting the image." The Android did all he could to enhance the image. "It appears to be debris consistent with a small craft... I am also detecting what appear to be three distinct humanoid lifesigns." "Can you beam them out?" Aznia's tone turned urgently toward the wellbeing of the survivors. "Not at this time. The interference would distort the transporter signal." Lt. Atom responded, "...but I do not believe this interference would pose a significant threat to a shuttle?" "I'd hate for one of our shuttles to fall prey to the same conditions that took down this ship." Captain Deet raised a valid point. Commander Walesa stood up, "Captain, we don't know what took that ship down... I specialized in atmospheric flight training at the academy. I'd like to volunteer for this mission." Aznia looked away for a moment, pondering the situation. She exhaled quickly through her nose before accepting the advice of her staff, "We certainly can't leave them down there. Take Doctor Span and a medical team along to treat the injured." Walesa walked toward the turbolift, she gestured toward a red shirted security officer, "Mr. Wrinn, I'd like a you with me on this one." The Xindi-primate Ensign followed the first officer. Walesa tapped her combadge, "Mr. Span, meet me with a medical team in shuttlebay one." The turbolift doors slid shut behind her. --- Shuttlecraft Shepard departed the Federalist. Walesa sat at the helm with Span sitting at the adjacent console. Wrinn sat on the port side bunk seat meticulously adjusting tuning his phaser to the appropriate frequency. The medical team consisting of Lieutenant Kelis and Ensign Lanning checked over supplies in the medkits from the starboard side bunk seat. "Hold on folks, we're entering the ionosphere." Walesa alerted the group. The shuttle rocked slightly, everything seemed well for the first few moments. "Commander," Span broke the silence, "I'm detecting a strange buildup of..." The shuttle suddenly lost all power, dropping into a uncontrolled free fall. Span swiveled his seat to face the power transfer console. "We've lost engine power, can you get me anything from auxiliary?!" Walesa ordered. Span tapped hopelessly at the console, "Nothing is responding!" he raised his voice dispassionately, "All ships power is simply gone." Walesa quickly opened an access panel beside her console, "There's nothing going through these ODN lines! We need to find a power source quickly!!" Span quickly climbed back to the ships reactor control access, he opened it and found all circuits dead there as well. The reactor was completely offline. Span took a moment to look up at the view screen, seeing the ground approach quickly. He reached over and grabbed the phaser from Wrinn's terrified, clenched hand. "What are you doing!?" Wrinn asked in confused shock. Span ignored the Ensign, "Commander, prepare to level our descent!" He detatched an ODN relay jamming the hand phaser into it's connection coupling, he increased the power output to the weapon's maximum. "NOW!" he shouted, firing the weapon. Walesa mustered a small, but meaningful, adjustment to the shuttle's course. They went from complete free fall to a managed crash course as the phaser's power blew out every relay on the ship, before venting from the maneuvering thrusters, and nudging the ship into the pilot's control. "Brace for impact!!" Walesa yelled loudly as the ship soared into a forest. The shuttle sheared through several trees, and glanced off of a small rock precipice, which tore the starboard side of the ship open like a tin can. Kelis and Lanning were thrown from the ship as the bulkhead gave way. Wrinn and Span clinged onto the port bunk as Walesa remained dedicated to her console, still futilely trying to control the craft. The ship finally tumbled to a rest at the base of several large trees. The three remaining crew members struggled to their feet. Span was the first one up, the Vulcan officer's body proved more structurally durable to the jarring crash. He lifted Wrinn onto the bunk, helping to stabilize what he diagnosed as a broken arm. When he realized the injuries were not fatal, he turned to Walesa. "Commander!" he grabbed her by her shoulder as she sit slumped over he control panel. Walesa struggled to consciousness, wincing in pain at the light flooding back into her dilated eyes. She simply groaned to acknowledge Span's concern. "You appear to be concussed commander." He examined her pupils carefully before checking over the rest of her, "We should get out of the shuttle." smoke was venting into the cockpit from smoldering parts scattered all around. Span escorted the other two survivors out of the craft. The forest outside was accommodating, a comfortable temperature, plenty of sunlight shining down through the trees. In different circumstances, it would almost be a serene place. He found a spot for Walesa to sit and rest, while he tended to Wrinn's arm. "I need to set the bone. You will experience significant pain, Ensign." Span informed the patient dispassionately. Wrinn sighed, hanging his head. "OK." he murmured through clenched his teeth. Span acted immediately, he didn't give Wrinn time to brace, as to minimize muscle resistance. Wrinn screamed at the top of his lungs, he cry echoing through the vast forest. He whimpered as he cradled the wounded limb. Span turned back to the shuttle. He began to dig through the crashed craft for any usable supplies. The port side lockers were in tact. In them, he found one medkit, a hand phaser, a tricorder, three boxes of federation emergency rations, and four folded blankets. The starboard side locker was gone along with the upper folding bunk. The lower bunk was broken away from the wall, lying on the floor. Span retrieved a small fire extinguisher from center console between the pilot's seats, he conservatively discharged it just enough to stop any components within the fuselage from smoldering further. Span looked around the craft one last time before tearing a loose piece of hard resin conduit from the ship's exposed environmental system. He returned to his patients, Walesa was already up and trying to find a branch to help splint Wrinn's arm. "Commander, sit down. I am authorized to make that an order." He reminded her sternly of his medical authority. "I believe this piece of conduit will serve as a fine splint." He held the hard piece against the wounded arm as Wrinn grit his teeth, he wrapped one of the survival blankets as a sling around the arm and behind his neck to immobilize the wound. "You found a medkit?" Wrinn inquired. "That is correct." Span acknowledged. "There should be some kind of analgesic or sedative in there. Please, I'm in a lot of pain here." Span scanned Wrinn with the tricorder. "I'm sorry Ensign, I do not doubt that you are in a great deal of discomfort, but you are in no immediate risk of shock or further complication. We need to ration our supplies." The Vulcan tried to temper his dispassionate tone as much as possible within the bounds of logic. "Come on, Commander. I'm sure we'll be rescued soon!" Wrinn pleaded. "Wrinn!" Walesa shot a disapproving tone in his direction. "Rest. Do the best you can." Span returned his attention to Walesa, "Please, Commander. Do not exert yourself." He removed a hypospray from his kit trying to remain discreet. "This is a serious concussion. We need to reduce the swelling." He pressed the anti-inflammatory hypospray against her carotid artery. Wrinn looked over seeing the administration of the drug. He scowled, believing that his superiors were conspiring against him to hoard the supplies for themselves. His gaze remained fixed on Commander Span, who callously ignored the clear disapproval. Span looked over the tricorder a little bit more. He stood between the two injured officers. "You are both under orders to rest, keep your emotions under control, I know that we will survive this." "How could you know that?" Wrinn shot back pessimistically. "The initial shuttle crash that we detected had three survivors. We detected that reading right here, at this exact location on the planet's surface." Span informed his colleagues. "When we entered the planet's ionosphere, I briefly detected a buildup of chronitons that discharged our ship's power core. The subsequent reaction sent us backward in time. We are the survivors we came to rescue." --- "Where did they go?!" Aznia demanded an answer. Lt. Atom quickly tapped at his console, accessing as much sensor data as possible. "We detected a buildup of chroniton particles at the shuttle's last known location, then a massive plasma discharge, and the shuttle simply disappeared." Aznia's concern grew, "Was the shuttle destroyed?" "I do not believe so, Captain." Atom added, "I am not detecting any debris, no dust. The size of the discharge was not significant enough to account for the shuttle's destruction." "Captain," En'thaas chimed in, "I'd like to point out that the shuttle was on a trajectory that would've taken them down in close proximity to the rescue site. The wreckage below is consistent with the size of our shuttle, and we did detect chroniton particles. A temporal anomaly may be at work here." "So we sent them to rescue..." Aznia began to say. "...themselves." Atom finished the sentence before turning back to his console to scan the anomaly further. "How long have they been down there?" Aznia asked. The Android didn't know, "Until we better understand the phenomenon at work, we can not tell." "We need to get them out of there. I want options!" --- In the week that had passed since the crash, Span and Walesa developed a routine around their base camp. They'd recovered the bodies of Kelis and Lanning, burying them nearby. They were using the shuttle as a makeshift shelter, the weather was stable and warm, they'd found sources of food in many of the indigenous plants, and a stream nearby provided an endless flow of clean water. Survival was difficult, but things could've been much worse given the situation. "This is becoming intolerable," Wrinn lamented, "How long until they come?!" "One day less than when you asked yesterday." Span retorted. "We simply can not know. It may be a matter of a hours, it may be a matter of years." "Years?" Wrinn panicked. "I suggest you focus on the fact that we will ultimately be discovered. Before we crashed, we detected three life signs, which means that we will survive." Span offered encouragement. "I have no doubt that Captain Deet will find a way to bring us home." "What if..." Wrinn began to think "What if we did something to change our future?" "That is not possible." Span shot the idea down, "Whatever actions we take, the result will be us, here, when the Federalist discovers us. If it wasn't the case, we would have seen a different result." "Hear me out," Wrinn added, "I've been looking over the shuttle, if we can rebuild the reactor, I think we can get to orbit." "Are you crazy, Wrinn? Half of the hull is gone!" Walesa shot down the idea. "I've been thinking about that," Wrinn explained, "I remember hearing about hand phasers being modified to project a containment field around hull breaches." "I doubt the disbursement field could be set wide enough to contain this hull damage." Span answered. "Even if we were able to seal the breach, such a method would work as nothing more than a stop-gap measure." "We have to try something!" Wrinn exclaimed. "Wrinn imagine that, against all odds, we get the shuttle's power systems back online. And imagine, also against all odds, we get the shuttle off the ground. Now imagine, again- against all odds, that we're able to seal the hull with the hand phaser. Once we get in orbit, then what? We've traveled back in time. Who will be up there?" Walesa explained the ridiculousness of his plan. "We'll have to set a course for DS3." Wrinn stated without considering the facts. "DS3 is 25 light years away. Even if you get the shuttle flying at warp 8 again, which isn't going to happen with only one functional nacelle, it would take 12 days to arrive at DS3." Walesa was tiring of the conversation, "The firing mechanism on this phaser couldn't project a containment field for 12 hours of continuous use, let alone 12 days!" Wrinn stomped away frustrated. Walesa and Span looked at each other nervously. "He's got a point, you know." Walesa suggested. Span raised an eyebrow, "I fail to see how." "How long do we wait before we try to change the course of our survival?" "I don't believe we can, our fate is sealed. I suggest we concentrate our efforts on affecting a more comfortable survival. Our stay on this planet may be long."

---

Lt. Atom and Chief Volor called the Captain to the Transporter Room, she arrived to find them preparing a test object for transport. "Captain, we've discovered something interesting." Volor announced. "We've completed some modifications to the transporter, and we were ready to beam this test object down to the surface, it is a standard ten kilogram test cylinder comprised of 80% Duranium and 20% Nillimite." "I'm familiar with these, crewman." The Captain cut to the chase. Volor continued, "Well, I randomly selected a set of beam down coordinates on the planet's surface; and I found something interesting." Deet looked at the readout, the computer detected a ten kilogram Duranium-Nillimite alloy cylinder at the exact coordinates Volor had randomly selected. "You already beamed one down?" she asked. "No we have not." Atom responded, drawing the Captain's curiosity. "The odds of such a similar object already being at these coordinates are roughly one in..." "Clearly not a chance encounter." The Captain cut in. She wanted to know more, "Lock onto it, beam it up." A second test cylinder materialized alongside the one that was already present. It appeared to have weathered and tarnished slightly, but was clearly the same object. Aznia leaned in to inspect it more closely, "These have a unique code, don't they?" "Should be right on the corner by that top seam, Captain." Volor answered. She read from the weathered test cylinder "91791-47B." She checked the clean cylinder "91791-47B. It's the same object." "How can the same object occupy two slots on our transporter pad?" Volor asked. "Well," Aznia pointed at clean test cylinder. "beam this one down. Same coordinates." The cylinder vanished from the transporter pad. "The transport cycle reads complete, but I've lost contact with the object." "It's right there, Chief." Aznia pointed at the weathered cylinder they'd beamed up moments before. "You've beamed the clean cylinder into the past. We've already retrieved it." Atom conducted a close scan on the weathered cylinder, "Captain, this cylinder has been on the planet's surface for... over four years." --- Fifteen months had passed. Base camp had become a fairly comfortable place. The three survivors had constructed some basic amenities to raise the quality of life around camp significantly. Still, they were tired, dirty, and growing weary of their isolation. Wrinn peeled back the husk of a native fruit, "If I never see another one of these pine-flavored bananas, I'll die a happy man." "Unfortunately, Ensign, they are our best source of carbohydrates, fiber, and vitamins." Span stated matter of factly. Walesa interjected, "I'm not fond of them either, but they're all we have." "I'm going off to gather more of them, I suppose." Wrinn wandered away from camp. "I don't know how much longer he's going to make it here," Walesa waned Span, "He's growing more and more irritable and lately he's been isolating himself from us as much as he can. Span sighed, and lowered his head showing an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability, "Commander, it is not Ensign Wrinn who I am worried about." Walesa raised her head in surprise. "Do you think I..." Span cut her off, "No. Commander. You've been... very strong in the face of this crisis." he was audibly shaken, some level of emotional compromise setting in. "I am speaking of myself." "Span, what's wrong?" "I am suffering the initial stages of a Vulcan neurological imbalance. If we were aboard the Federalist, I would be taking a leave of absence to seek treatment on Vulcan right now. It is a potentially fatal condition..." Walesa was concerned. She couldn't help but think about how she'd grown very close to Span over the past few months, "How can I help?" She grabbed his hand. "We can't get you through this." Span looked up at Walesa, sensing a level of connection he'd failed to consider so far. "If I were on Vulcan, this would be the time in my life when I would take a mate." he reticently confessed. "I can set out into the wilderness on my own, and through deep meditation and concentration, I might be able to endure the symptoms." "Span, maybe it doesn't need to be that way. You're not the only lonely person here." She grabbed his arm, looking up to see that the coast was clear, "Wrinn usually leaves for a few hours at a time... Let me help you." --- Another week had passed, and the symptoms of Span's Pon Farr had mostly subsided. The relationship between Span and Walesa had visibly warmed, much to the chagrin of Ensign Wrinn. The sun was rising on another day, and Walesa was the first to wake. She rustled around outside, waking Span and ensign Wrinn. Span exited the shuttle. "Elsie, are you alright?" "I'm fine, she emerged from the bushes, I just had to use the... bush." she chuckled nervously. Span nodded, "You almost never wake this early." hw moved toward their fire ring, and began to build up the day's fire to boil some water. Wrinn remained in the shuttlecraft, stirring up some noise. "What is he doing in there?" Span inquired. Walesa answered, "Anything to keep busy. Let's leave him be a while." Span looked back at the shuttle making sure Wrinn was out of earshot, "About last week, I want to thank you again, Elsie. I don't know how you feel about our future, but I have grown fond of your presence." he looked as bashful as a Vulcan could. Walesa smiled, "Span, about that, I need to tell you..." A shower of sparks shot out of the shuttlecraft, interrupting her mid sentence. Span and Walesa stood up in surprise, they did not know the shuttle's power systems were even online. They ran to the shuttle, opening the hatch. "Wrinn, what are you doing in here." Span sternly demanded an answer. Wrinn was curled up in the corner, shielding his head from the blast that had occurred. He did not move. Span approached him, grabbing him by the shoulder. Wrinn stood up suddenly, drawing his phaser. Wrinn stood behind span, holding the phaser in front of Span, pointing upward against his neck.  "You two aren't going to keep me here anymore..." Wrinn was losing it. "I'm getting off this rock one way or another. As you can see, I've got the power systems flowing again." "Wrinn, you've got systems overloading, you've got a breached hull, you've got no chance of getting this ship out of here!" Walesa reminded the deranged Ensign. "At least then our fate isn't sealed! If I die in this shuttle, then the wreckage won't be here, there won't be three survivors!"" "Put the phaser down, Wrinn." Walesa pleaded. "We can work this out!" "No we can't. I've been watching you two subvert my efforts for too long. You've been in charge of this debacle from square one, and we've got nowhere. I'm done with you. In fact, I might just kill Commander Span right now... Just so we both know that there will not be three survivors." Walesa considered the paradox he was raising, three unidentified lifesigns, one very likely to die in the next few moments. She considered how she'd just awoke to a sense of nausea, a sense of morning sickness that drove her from her sleep earlier than usual; suddenly she knew what it all meant. One of these men was going to die. Instinctively, she kicked as hard as she could at Wrinn's phaser, dislodging it from his hand. Wrinn pushed Span into her and reached for the navigation panel, Walesa grabbed him by his shoulders to prevent him from launching the shuttle. She punched him as hard as she could to immobilize him and end the fight, but he fought back and threw a wide fist at Walesa. She ducked the punch as Span stepped in. Span, still feeling some lingering neurochemical imbalance from his Pon Farr, slipped into a moment of rage. He wound up and punched Wrinn directly in the face as hard as he could. A loud crack accompanied the blow as Wrinn slumped directly down in his footprints. Both officers stood stunned for a moment by what had occurred. Span regained his composure and dispassionately knelt down beside Wrinn's body. "He is dead." Walesa sighed, resting her face in her hands. "Span, you did what you had to do." "Commander, I am guilty of murder." Span stood professionally, as composed as possible in his dirty uniform and shaggy beard, "If we are rescued, I should face court martial, and I will plead guilty to my crime." "Span, no... Do you want your child to grow up with their father in a detention cell?" Walesa broke the news bluntly. "Child?" He was visibly taken aback, "The third survivor..." Walesa smiled, she walked over to Span's side and grabbed him by the arm. She guided his hand to her belly. "The third survivor." Span and Walesa gave Wrinn a proper burial beside Kelis and Lanning. They stood before their miniature graveyard in silence for a moment. "I can not justify my actions, Elsie." Span said mournfully. "He didn't give you any choice, Span. He was a threat to both of us... to all three of us... you knew that. The fact that you felt a moment of rage does not diminish the logic of your decision." Walesa condoned Span's action, "I'm still your superior officer. I'm ordering you to accept that." Span looked up, sadness still in his eyes. "I'm not sure I can follow that order." --- Aznia stood in the Federalist's transporter room with Atom and Volor. "Four years??" She was stunned. "Does that mean that our away team has been..." "...yes, Captain." Atom informed her, "They have been down there for about four years." "Is there any way to reverse this... to beam them out at an earlier date??" Aznia pleaded. "I do not believe so. The time has already passed for them, to use a human aphorism, their future is written... in stone." Atom dispassionately used the expression, "Fortunately, I believe our the transporter enhancements will work, so we can beam them up on your order." "Four years stranded down there... while we've been here only a matter of moments... It's unimaginable. What will this be like for them??" Aznia closed her eyes for just a moment, shaking her head in resignation, "Mr. Volor, Energize." Three patterns materialized on the transporter pad, two adults and one small child- barely able to stand on his own. Span and Walesa stared in shock at their Captain, Walesa began to weep tears of joy, Span stood back and immediately looked down at his frightened son, he reached out his hand to the small half-Vulcan boy, "We are home now. You have nothing to be afraid of. Things will be better now." The boy relaxed as he held his father's hand tightly. "Welcome home," Captain Deet was shocked by the sight of the young boy, she knelt before him, engaging him eye-to-eye, "I'm Captain Deet, what is your name?" "Calvin." The boy said timidly, overwhelmed by the foreign experience of leaving the only home he ever knew. "Congratulations, Elsie, Span." Deet softly smiled and nodded at each of them, "I'm so glad to have you back." "After so long, it almost slipped my mind that anyone was coming for us." Walesa fought back tears. "I have to ask, what happened to Kelis, Lanning and Wrinn?" The Captain returned to sad business. "Kelis and Lanning were killed as the ship crashed," Span began to report. Walesa cut in "...and Wrinn never recovered from the crash." the statement was half-truth enough for her. Span looked down at the boy holding his hand, he was ready to be more forthcoming about the incident, but realized that the half-truth served a greater good than the full truth. Span simply nodded to acknowledge the comment. The Captain was satisfied. "Let's get you three to sick bay."