Whispers
Illumination turns on as she steps barefooted into an Art Deco aquarium hall, wearing a mauve cashmere sweater dress. Her graceful hands diligently operate Nazca patterns on a touchscreen console. Blurry/grainy black-and-white holographic footage rolls out a glowing cornucopian device.
The 3D visions display four hyper individuals toiling inside an orbital station with lucent walls. They ogle now-and-then at the class-L planet down below. They might be people or perhaps, watchful AI entities waiting for an inexorable event. A little one giggles and bounces off its curved structures.
"Holy mackerel! Excited as a squirrel on a trampoline", exclaims the Ocampan female in control of the image projector. She shifts her head slightly upward as her pointed-puffy ears take in a subspace query. "Aha! That's correct; another human remark to express amazement", she responds smiling at the cyber-jelly fish in the backdrop.
"Pulse Gaff online. Amplifying wave beam. Data recovery in progress", Kes resumes the cinematic recall behind the console. Her thoughts are log entries.
The glittery postern intensifies ahead of her. Kes senses an upsurge in suspense. The four beings halt their activities all of a sudden. Reobtaining knowledge is of the essence and she is there to ensure her generous hosts get it ...on time.
Characters' distorted voices die out as they spot a rocket module emerging out of the planet's dense atmosphere. The primitive capsule cruises their way. Three astronauts of unclear looks attempt their Species' first manned mission to outer space. Upside down, they look at the bluish mushroom swelling across a coat of sepia clouds. Kes attempts to attune for silver halide, but the photonic speck stays shallow and stars are trapped as brightly dots far away. The flick from a possible past goes on.
Mission Control: Commander Takhare; please start read-through.
"Propulsion, Navigation, Devices... All good; my friends", Takhare replies assertively. He wrote the book on space travel, after thirty thousands hours as PIC in jet aircrafts and low-orbit missions.
Previous career accomplishments, regardless of importance, built numerous androgen receptors in his brain to fuel more testosterone. His coolness has reached all-out boldness as he takes a peek out the windscreen to picture Nimbus, the enigmatic satellite orbiting his planet. Nothing now can't stop him from grasping it.
Mission Control: Initiate DLP Projector...
"Calibrating for geometric distortions", Takhare adjusts the photogrammetric bundle to verify structural integrity. He ignores whispers coming from the backseat. On his right side, Taraga, the big copilot gesticulates and pronounces incomprehensible words.
She presses a push-button and an opaque vapor leaks, pelting surfaces to diffuse the high reflection emanating from the Sun. Her people carved the rocket module out of a single forged massive stone, made mostly of Diorite for hardness and agatized fossils for malleability. The alloy is agglutinated by the twinning action of hexagonal Beryllium crystals. There was no other way to negotiate planet's turbulent atmosphere.
"No worries! DLP Scan came out safe-to-fly. We won't disintegrate or anything like that", Takhare gaudily reports.
Kes can't get her attention away from the show.
Mission Control: Oh yeah? You got us on tenterhooks here. Telemetry and dynamic attitude look good. We're proud of you three. Please, proceed with caution.
Taraga gets hyped up by the news encoded in whispers. Her people believe wardens keep in Nimbus their righteous knowledge. Nimbus belongs to the planet and its wisdom shall be set free to spill over everyone.
"Walainaina piaki-papu ghatuqura" She mutters repeatedly.
"What's she mumbling about?" Takhare inquires.
"We'll meet the wardens of knowledge" a childlike voice responds from the back.
"Hah! I guess she's really eager to unlock them" Takhare infers.
Kes reflects on the astronauts' chat. Knowledge holds onto memory. She can talk from personal experience. If you become unable to remember stuff, you'll eventually get very confused about time, places and people. You may lose your past. She once got old and forgot leaving Voyager voluntarily. She thought crew had abandoned her. Rage pumped up in her heart. She jumped timelines and wreaked havoc with neurogenic energy. She hurt her own friends. If memory can twist anybody's life so bad, what would happen if an entire civilization loses its past? "Desolation!" she responds softly.
Mission Control: Hello! We're still here. What's going on up there?
"Heh heh-heh! We now got a better visual", Takhare interprets Mission Control's anxiety as hilarious.
Mission Control: Describe Captain...
"Are you guys serious? Spherical and unnatural as expected!" Takhare replies with his usual cockiness.
Mission Control: Captain Takhare!
"C'mon man! We'll update you on approach", Takhare can't comment on further, since details are not yet visible.
"Kohula-maqe pakaou-wawa" Taraga shocks him by going postal again.
"You all drive me wild with your wicked chinwag. She says", a kid interprets.
"She may want to save some of her oomph for her EVA" Takhare responds a little irked.
"Get-up-and-go", she told me in Basic Training her motto was.
Mission Control: How's Kiapo doing?
"Permutating his hexagon; whispering", Takhare takes a quick look. The boy is grabbing a head-geared doll with his armpit, while pivoting colorful polygons.
Mission Control: What about your favor cousin?
"You know her; staring at me", Takhare laughs about it. Kiapo whispers.
"Tiqanga Koanipreni" Taraga gives her Commander a warmly punch. Takhare pretends to rub his shoulder.
"You're incorrigible! She says", Kiapo translates.
Mission Control: All right! Stop messing around and initiate approach.
Takhare expresses intent with his eyes and uses sign language to impart Taraga his directions, based on primary flight indicators. She handles guidance and environmental gauges. Kiapo observes the warning panel. Taraga focuses on executing the navigation sequence. Control thrusters provide small torque impulse in three axes to stabilize the module. "Approach in progress", Takhare relates back to Mission Control.
"Fuel cells. Good. Batteries. Good", Kiapo thinks out loud playing with a few circuit breakers.
"Kiapo; careful with the audio controls" Takhare cautions. He's absorbed with schematics and switchboards.
"Commander; may ask you a question?" Kiapo sounds a little concerned as an indicator in the warning panel flicks for a split second.
"I'm somewhat busy with a capsule, a sphere, an inquisitive child and a giantess copilot on my side" Takhare teases. Kiapo feigns he's about to translate. "Don't whisper that", Takhare warns. Kiapo smirks. Taraga stares at both of them and makes a "what the heck is going on" gesture.
"Do you think we might find someone inside?" Kiapo ventures to ask.
"Sky spirits? Nah! Messenger; astromancer... all fairy tales", Takhare is almost sorry to put it in unadorned terms. Kiapo whispers. Taraga speaks gibberish with rare solemnity.
"The three champions were real. They saved us all. Taraga says", Kiapo clarifies.
"Yeah right! The three champions. Our cousins... they certainly have some good stories too. Look at that thing! It has been there for millennia. Who could live in it for so long doing nothing? You're a big boy now Kiapo. You can't just go around believing in all that nonsense", Takhare rants for a while.
"Okay! Maybe no Sky Spirits... but what about Goblins?" Kiapo wonders.
Takhare shakes up his head with a skeptical expression in his face.
Mission Control: Commander Takhare, floodlights...
"All right! Striking floodlights" Takhare replies hastily as he takes a quick look at Kiapo, who seems fended off by infrasound. The space capsule strikes with light a wider area of the sphere.
Mission Control: Commander, log in procedure...
"Logging it! Object reflects reddish impression", Takhare shudders a little.
Mission Control: Clarify...
Vision gets tinted. Kiapo sense activity inside the satellite. "Careful something goes on", he advises quietly. Takhare hears Kiapo's warning; but he can't take his attention away from operations. "Ahem! Not solid; surely not a rock. Shall we pursue EV", he inquires.
"I hear two boys chatting. I hear them!" Kiapo indicates thrilled.
Takhare knows Kiapo doesn't make things up. Taraga gets agitated. She hears their whispers too. "Boys?" Takhare asks himself.
"Mission Control! I think we're about to make contact"
Takhare informs against anything better to say.
Mission Control: Contact? With whom? Standby...
Kes gets shocked in her senses. Projection shrinks down to become a dark hole. She walks around the Pulse Gaff. Its gateway only shoots a foggy glow. Data recovery was abruptly cut short. The interruption was probably caused by the anomaly, the temporal wave behind so much divergence in timelines. She will have to readjust the Surveyor in order to map space-time. "Do you know what I hate the most? Running into these crazy happenings", Kes addresses her jelly-fish companions. Surveyor rackets event-horizons at lighting speeds. She poses her hand over her mouth.
"Major event. Soul Eaters; future lost. Borg/8472; present compromised. Alpha Quadrant's humanoids; past jeopardized. Executing intervention", Kes thinks log entries again. Her hosts listen from very far away.
Scorpions Strike Again
Species 8472 Fleet comes out of fluidic space and launches a surprise attack on Borg planets with devastating effects. Borg beams reflect off Fluidian hulls and blow away their own cubes. 8472 focusing ships amplify and direct energy provided by rings of bioships to destroy entire Borg planets. The Collective doesn't possess any know-how in current alternate reality to develop biological solutions against organic technology.
Borg Data lists a sole entry regarding bio-molecular weaponry provided by a Holographic Doctor in a Human vessel from a divergent timeline. Though Voyager's EMH is currently offline, Computer runs his daydreaming subroutine. The Doctor sits at ease on a mustard 19th Century French Porter's chair in front of an early 21st Century 75" Class LED 2160p Smart 3D4K Ultra-HD TV. He wears a black tuxedo while watching in quick motion a fat caterpillar inching its way up an orchid tree. The silkworm turns into a restrictive cocoon, before becoming a butterfly able to taste the nectar of burgundy leafs.
The Doctor hates peak lapels. He has always considered himself to be a shawl collar kind of EMH. "Is that Kes moving furniture around? He recalls her. Is she back? If that's so; she better be in a good mood. Las time; it was wild". She had a bright future in medicine, before deciding to go Super Nova.
8472 antibodies swiftly detect and destroy nanoprobes. "Borg Civilization faces extinction; so what, who cares about intergalactic party poppers?" The Doctor reflects. He can't keep looking at butterflies. He's a physician. He took the Hippocratic Oath. He could reprogram Borg nanoprobes to seek and kill 8472s antibodies. "Where is my sickbay? Where's the crew? He'll have a talk with Captain Janeway. He assisted Borg once; but, his invention, fell through the cracks of the Collective? He's fed-up with cyber indolence.
The Hive Mind can't infer space/time coordinates to pinpoint Human assistance in another timeline. A Borg cube manages to escape the Fluidian juggernaut.
"Hostiles detected! Species 8472 bioships. Cube 9-0-4! Deploy! Lay down course for Grid 351. Charge and fire weapons on sight!" Hive Mind commands.
"Negative! Unacceptable orders. Enemy vessels are organic. We must reprogram our weaponry with molecular facets. We require Humans", a female responds.
"Humans? Species 5618! One unverifiable entry on their collaboration", Hive Mind apprises.
"My entry... They assisted Borg once", the female voice summarizes.
"Not extant! Unauthenticated data! Cube 9-0-4; protect Borg actuality. Humans are problematic. State your designation", Hive Mind prompts. Nobody questions him; not even Borg Queens.
-"3 of 12 Secondary Subjunction Unimatrix 728", the same voice replies.
-"Defective drone! Bounded! Ineligible for Royal Protocol", Hive Mind concludes.
-"Negative! Unbounded! I terminated drone you chose for Royal Protocol. She was... redundant. I'm remarkable. I'm a Queen", a self-crowned monarch defies the Hive.
- "3 of 12! You are ambiguous. Unsafe! Unique! Your neural processor doesn't execute instructions. You're damaged beyond repair. Initiate fail-safe! Deactivate!" Hive Mind dictates orders in vain. The Hive can't control this Queen.
- "Your observations are immaterial. I don't like your Collective", her majesty is clearly attempting to depart from her Hive's demesne.
-"Cube 9-0-4! Cube 9-0-4! Drones unresponsive. Their thoughts can't be heard", Hive Mind reflects out loud.
-"Royal Protocol. Completed! I do hear my drones. Set conduit route to Species 2121 Wormhole. I require Janeway", Queen instructs her loyal drones.
Cube 9-0-4 perforates subspace to transwarp away from the battlefield, heading across Dominion space and towards the Bajoran Wormhole. Borg Queen partially comes out of a gloomy alcove pavilion. She has a plan.
Dreams
An older woman dreams in her bed. She sees vibrant montages of primeval rock art in caves. Hunters and farmers outstretch their arms below a flying ball. She can't tell who they are; but humanoids in wetsuits are holding bizarre tools. Peasants watch saucers clashing in the skies. Mosaics also portray furry beasts, scary demons, dappled horses with dark triangular mane and big eyed globular heads.
Our dreamer breathe heavily as she hikes up a flinty trail. She explores a cavern to find a cryo-stasis chamber holding people in gassy pods. She hears herself saying: "I'm not willing to just leave them living in stasis for another four hundred years". They get out of the cave after an auburn young lady; and spot a girl with curious ears running the crop fields. A Ferengi shuttle enters a turbid atmosphere.
Kathryn Janeway wakes up in slow motion; feeling her early morning routine elapsing in snapshots. She washes her face before the mirror and shyly takes a glance at her much older reflected self.
Computer: Captain Chakotay on viewscreen. Janeway rushes to the studio. Her heart pounds.
-"You look... did you get a good night sleep?" He cares about her.
-"The usual; thanks for asking... I'll see a Doctor today. I need a shot of nano-barbiturics or something. Did you get anything on the horses?" She asks.r32;
-"In our timeline, we got these two dappled horses and hand stencils painted in its walls, as well as children footprints preserved in clay", Chakotay puts in plain words the slideshow on the Pech Merle caves in France.
-"Fast-forward?" Janeway can't hide her anxiety.
-"We now have many spotted horses and... these warlocks from hell. No hands. No children" Chakotay continues.
- "Disturbing! Who are those creatures anyway? Borg? Fluidians?" Janeway wonders what foe they might face in their senior years.
-"Evil spirits! They visited Earth after their ship malfunctioned, ransacked local resources and seized people's souls" Chakotay summarizes fears.
-"Good news! They didn't stay... and haven't come back" Janeway ironizes.
-"We don't know. Many of my tribe in this timeline left Earth to pursue technology to fight them back when they return", Chakotay gravely points out.
-"No sky spirits in this alternate reality" Janeway struggles with discrepancies. His tribe had left Earth in the original timeline to escape technology.
-"Should I confirm your presence for tonight?" Chakotay shakes his head... and quickly changes subject.
-"Absolutely! I'll be there with Tuvok", Janeway reinforces her attendance.
-"Is he in town? I believed he was seriously..." Chakotay ceases his train of thought. He's glad Tuvok can make it.
-"He's feeling much better", she clarifies.
-"Ten years..." Chakotay evokes with a shade of incredulity.
-"I know. Time flies and we get older by the hour" She makes him laugh a little.
-"See you later Kathryn" He is about to go offline; but Janeway has a question.
-"Chakotay! Who brought the spotted horses to Earth in our timeline?" She would like to smooth down at least one incongruity.
-"Nobody knows and my tribe's Elders Council isn't available for questioning" He answers her with a hint of frustration.
-"No clue! All right; Janeway out" She goes in her Mediterranean patio through a shimmering portal and rubs her Irish Settler's back. The dusky bedroom lingers with dreams behind. She can't see the orbs flying away; but her dog does and barks jolty: "I know pepper; it's too early to play".
As Pepper lies on her side; she contemplates a misty Golden Gate Bridge, enveloped in chrome brush-strokes. Janeway slightly eludes a fresh breeze, disguising whispers and infant voices. She sips coffee and peeks at her liver spots, heaving a sigh:
-"I love daybreaks!"
Sanctuary of Mentors
Following the destruction of Romulus by a supernova in 2387, a vengeful Romulan miner named Nero sought revenge against the Federation. He blamed Vulcans and Humans for doing nothing to prevent the tragedy. His vicious actions resulted in creating a temporal singularity, going back in time aboard the Narada, his technically advanced mining vessel, and generating an alternate reality.In 2258 of this timeline, Nero destroyed planet Vulcan by drilling its surface with an energy stream and igniting red matter in its core.
Most survivors relocated to Vulcanis, a Lunar Colony inexplicably unaffected by the rare singularity and living in the original reality. There, many embraced the deep-rooted beliefs in a Pantheon of Deities. Among other practices, Vulcans would go on pilgrimage by foot to the Sanctuary of Mentors, a long forgotten site of monolithic ruins from a mysterious ancient civilization. Three eroded monuments are seen in the distance: a thick lord with headgear, a lady with Mohawk and a warrior with goatee. They dimly remind us of statues found on Easter Island and Lore Lindu.
He's seen walking in the crowd, dressed in a hooded-toga of sophisticated design and assisted by his daughter Azil and his grandson S'Tival. The afflicted man bends and sits on a dusty base inside a broken Dome. Shadows and reflections play tricks on tarnished brick walls; as Tuvok reveals his head. He's senile and febrile. His daughter speaks softly to comfort him. He ponders words. His grandson marvels at a prismatic radiance. They all feel a powerful presence.
-"Father; shall we go through your thoughts together?" Azil advises, but he disapproves with a gesture.
-"I live in a strange quadrant in which the Vulcan Home World has been destroyed. I would like to express my deep sense of guilt over the death of so many", Tuvok declares.
-"Tell mentors about your pain", Azil reminds him. He looks for words.
-"I'm powerless. I cannot serve others. Iruhe devours my mind. Assist me; and I'll gladly join you in Sha-Ka-Ree" He makes a promise.
.
The girl from Janeway's dream comes out of a hazy gap, getting near Tuvok. She places her fingertips around his head: "My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts. The route through our realm shall begin for you in this Midday Sun. He closes his eyes.
-"I'm Tuvok; son of T'Meni..." He's interrupted by a motherly hush.
-"How do you feel?" She's no longer a girl. She is...
-"My ideas are flowing again clearly" Tuvok looks much better.
-"You taught me telepathic control. I used it to calm your mind down" She assists him. He keeps promises.
-"I'm most grateful' He can't take his eyes away from her. She strikes a chord.
-"Do you remember me?" She knows he does.
-"You're Kes. I spent a night in meditation; lighting candles after your departure" He calls to mind illogical emotions.
-"What do you know?" She just wants to make sure he's back.
-"This is the year 2404 AD of an alternate reality. Voyager returned a decade ago from its journey of 23 years across the Delta Quadrant", He discerns correctly.
-"You'll soon depart again to achieve what, at this instant, my hosts are unable to attain themselves. You shall carry a message to hinder Soul Eaters from conquering ahead of their time", Kes briefs him a lifesaving mission. She fades away.
-"Grandpa! I'm sad and frightened" S'Tival is tearful. Her mother Azil embraces him from behind.
-"You shall learn casting out your fears to grow wise" Tuvok refers to an old Vulcan proverb.
-"Are we going to see each other again?" S'Tival wonders.
-"We must; this is only the entrance to a passage" He alleviates his grandson's anguish.
-"May this Spice tea enrich your journey and ensure it to be free of incident" Tuvok grabs the goblet and drinks tea from it.