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Stories in this Fandom are works of fan fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Recognized characters, events, incidents belong to Paramount <br>

Scent of Smoke - 4. Act I: Lost Property (part IV)

Welp, seven years is a long time to come up with a meagre eight thousand words. In my defence, most of this was typed out over a few days at most. There's just a lot of this annoying thing called life that's happened between 2015 and 2022. Hopefully coming back to these characters and spending time with them again over the last couple of days is enough to get the creativity flowing again.
Thanks for bearing with me, and welcome back :)

Temaga strode back onto the bridge, Nathan hot on her heels. Bypassing her captain’s chair they instead made straight for the science station on the port side of the bridge, joining Den to stand behind the duty science officer. “What do we have?”

The duty officer barely looked up at her captain’s words, her eyes too busy taking in the flood of telemetry from the inner reaches of the system. Her hands, however, went straight to work, calling up on the monitor the images of two worlds, both densely green with vegetation.

“It’s as we thought, Captain,” she replied. “Two planets within the habitable zone. One isn’t far off our current vector, the other is on the far side of the star. High-res images of the second planet are coming in now.”

Temaga leaned closer to the monitor, one hand on the back of the officer’s chair. “What do you make of this one?” She indicated the clearer image on the left with her free hand.

“Heavily forested. Free water makes up about thirty percent of the surface.” The ensign added an enhanced graphic overlay, which clearly showed many thousands more circular lesions. “Preliminary deep-gravity scan indicates the same kind of bombardment we saw back at Thirteen. If there is any trace of civilisation left it’s deep underground by now.” She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the smallest of twitches disappearing from Temaga’s jaw. The captain straightened her back, her hand lingering on the head rest.

“And what of the other?” Temaga asked, her eyes widening a touch as the promised high-resolution images of the farther planet were fed to secondary monitors to the officer’s left and right.

“Stand by,” she said, calling up the planet’s physical data with a single gesture on her console. “The probe is still too far for a detailed life reading, but it’s definitely reading – something – on the surface.”

Den’s jaw tightened, his battle-sharpened instincts rising to the surface. “Location?” His voice was sharp.

“Somewhere on the equatorial landmass. I’m getting no evidence of spacecraft in the area or artificial satellites in orbit.”

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” Nathan’s voice was similarly pointed in tone, though his inflection was more one of curiosity than caution.

“I can’t tell yet,” said the science officer. She sounded troubled. “It’s some kind of – interference. It’s preventing the probe getting a clear picture of the ground. I don’t think it poses any danger, but...”

Temaga nodded slowly. “Alright.” She turned her back on the science station and moved to stand alongside her chair in the centre of the recessed command arena. Glancing back, she took barely a seconds’ deliberation before making up her mind.

“Have the first probe conduct a detailed analysis of the nearer planet. I want to know everything there is to know about it.” Directing her gaze forward again, Temaga continued. “Helm, make course to join the second probe and stand by to engage.”

“Captain,” she heard Den’s voice in her left ear as both stations acknowledged her order; the executive officer had moved to stand behind her, leaning forward on the arena rail so as to be on a level with her. “We shouldn’t make any rash judgements just yet. We should wait for more information before proceeding into the system.”

Temaga inclined her head to him, but kept her gaze steady upon the viewscreen. “I appreciate your concerns, Commander,” she replied in a low voice. “But I believe we’re as prepared as we can be. A few extra hours on the edge won’t tell us anything new. We’ve waited long enough.”

I’ve waited long enough.

 

Will felt the familiar cocky grin playing at the edges of his mouth as he observed his surroundings. He and his team were below decks in the armoury – if you could call it an armoury, as was often his first thought upon entering. Barely larger than the average storage unit, this science-ship-edition of a weapons room contained two racks of phaser rifles and hand units at head and knee height along the three walls facing the door. Four palletised crates were stacked two-high in the middle of the room, leaving barely two feet of walking space between them and the weapons mounted on the walls. Working down here was never the most practical of arrangements, but he had never heard his team complain – if one thing was certain, it was that no civilian would ever venture down here. He was in his element. This was his world.

And right now, his world was abuzz with activity. Orders from above had come at last; all departments were to make preparations for arrival at their final destination. To this end, he held an inventory tablet in his hand, checking off the items on the list one by one as his fellow officers transferred from the armoury to the transport crates waiting in the corridor. The rifles and hand phasers were a given, but he had also included some choice items that a less militarily-inclined observer might have considered overkill – photon grenades, door jams, door breakers and remote-sense aids, among other things. Though still not entirely sure his and Nathan’s theory would turn up correct, Will had nevertheless decided to take no chances. Especially given what he had learned of their mission since leaving Thirteen.

Not for the first time, he found himself dwelling on other developments that had happened since leaving Thirteen. After their action-packed first meeting and the thrill of discovery the next day, his interactions with Nathan Carson had quickly returned to much what they had been beforehand. It was true that they now shared, perhaps, slightly longer-than-average glances when passing in the corridors, or across the mess on the rare occasions they dined at the same time. But not once had Nathan made the effort to seek him out, or otherwise pursue his company.

Following this train of thought, Will felt a mild squirm of guilt as he remembered the last time they had been in direct contact, when he had been unable to resist baiting him at the briefing in front of the senior staff. The rise he had got from the other man had been satisfying – born, no doubt, from the resentment of having to play guard dog to a bunch of civilians who believed their way was the only way and held no respect for him, his colleagues or his profession. But thinking back on it, remembering the anger he had caused, he realised he had seen something else as Nathan had taken his bait – doubt. Now he was taking the time to look at the man properly, Will had become aware of the discomfort always playing behind the red-head’s practised composure; at mealtimes when he sat alone; in the corridors where he walked alone; during briefings when he tried his utmost to remain alone.

Will bit the inner surface of his lower lip and blinked to regain focus on his inventory. He was mildly surprised to see the checklist was completed.

“Looks like that’s everything,” he called as his people secured the last of the gear in the crates and filed back into the armoury. “Close ‘em up and get ‘em off to the cargo deck, it’s job done for now.” He wiped the tablet’s display and returned the unit to its’ wall mounting by the door, watching his team disperse. As there were only two crates and each required only one person to move it, several remained behind, chatting idly. Will smiled vaguely, only half-listening. He turned to leave.

“Jesus, I am so glad I didn’t get the short straw. Landing party I can deal with, but guard duty?”

Will stopped in the doorway. It was one of his snipers, the officer who had presented the straws to be drawn in the mess the previous day. He was talking in a low voice to Ensign Campbell, the blonde hand-weapon specialist, or knifer, who nodded her head in fervent agreement.

“Tell me about it. That ginger bastard especially. God knows how no one’s popped him in that mouth of his yet.”

Will felt his heart bang against his chest, unnaturally loud in his ears. His lip curled in what might have been mistaken for a snarl as he turned back into the armoury. “Hey,” he barked. “That’s enough.”

Campbell blinked. “Sorry,” she said in mild surprise. “I’d have thought you’d be the last to take their side after all those hours bitching in the mess.”

“I said that’s enough,” Will took a step forward, the trace of a growl in his voice. “We have a job to do, if you have some kind of problem with that, better let me know right now.”

Neither one answered, but both met his steely gaze with open astonishment. “Speak up,” Will snapped.

“No problem, sir,” Campbell returned evenly after a moment. She glanced to her left.

“Youssef?” Will followed her attention to the other ensign.

“No problem, sir.”

“Excellent,” said Will forcefully. “I’m sure you both have things to do.”

As his troops filed out, both shot him another quizzical look, which he ignored. The armoury doors closed after them, and he allowed himself a slow, steadying breath. The anger he had felt at their words still burned hot in his chest. Before he could dwell on his outburst, however, a general intercom alert sounded and the XO’s voice echoed throughout the ship.

“All departments, stand by for offload. Department heads, report to the bridge.”

 

In the hours since the Beltane’s drop to sub-warp speed, Hanar Dzhan had barely looked up from her station. As the Starfleet contingent’s liaison to the civilian science teams, she had been in the lab with T’Sera and the others, monitoring the live telemetry from the probes charting the inner reaches of the system. With the rumour reaching them from the bridge that the ship was about to get underway, Dzhan had taken advantage of the general upheaval to slip away to the mess hall for a coffee, where she found Crewman Kira doing the same thing.

“Hanar!” Rior hailed her with a wave of his hand as she passed his table to place her order at the replicator, moving to join him moments later. “Escaped your dungeon?”

Dzhan smiled. “They probably haven’t noticed I’ve gone,” she quipped. “I’ll give it a few minutes, I’ll say I was updating the bridge or something.”

Rior raised an eyebrow. “You think that’ll get past your professor?” Hanar shrugged.

“T’Sera’s not my boss, as much as she wishes she were. She forgets we lesser species have to do things like eat, and sleep.” She tapped her brushed metal mug against Rior’s, stationary in the middle of the table. There was a moment’s silence.

“So,” Rior said at last. “I guess this is it?”

“Mm,” Hanar replied through a mouthful of coffee. “We’ve been watching the probe telemetry, indications are what we’re looking for is on that second planet. I’m not sure if I should have told you that,” she added thoughtfully, before shrugging and taking another sip.

Rior grinned. “My lips are sealed. If you do feel like letting slip anything else about this supposed quest of ours...”

Hanar shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat. There was, of course, a great deal she could let slip about their mission. Despite their captain’s somewhat unorthodox way of running things, however, she was not sure a board of enquiry would look too favourably upon her if information were allowed to spread too far. Something of her guilt must have shown in her face, for Rior sat back and shrugged.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. ‘Need to know,’ I get it.” He smiled across the table at her. “There’s a reason you’re the officer and I’m not.”

Hanar grinned back at him. “Yeah, because you’re a lazy cunt!” Rior aimed a kick at her under the table, but her pained laughter was interrupted by the intercom.

“All departments, stand by for offload...”

 

Will had both feet on the deck of the bridge before the turbolift doors were fully opened. Making an immediate beeline to the group of people around the science station, he drew to a halt a foot or so behind Doctor Carson and Commander th’Den. Captain Temaga crossed the bridge from her centre chair and took station between him and Nathan.

“Captain… Doctor,” he added, unable to resist lending half a smile to the last word. Temaga remained facing the displays, but Nathan turned his head at the sound of Will’s voice. He said nothing, but gave a small nod in return, holding his gaze for a moment, before breaking eye contact and looking forward again.

“Lieutenant Gates,” Temaga murmured, acknowledging his presence at last. “We’re finally getting a good look at the second planet. I’d like your input.” She stepped aside to afford him a better view of the monitors.

T’Sera had taken over the science station, the soft royal blue and gilt hems of her wraparound tunic at odds with the sharp silvers and greys of the surfaces around her. Centre-stage on the primary display was a crystal-clear, blue-white orb, bathed entirely in the light from the sun directly behind the probe, its glow almost dazzling against the blackness of the space beyond. The silver smudge of a planetary ring bisected the image horizontally, hanging over the planet at the equator. As though to highlight her presentation, T’Sera had kept the main image free of other information, giving her report from a side monitor instead.

“The planet is typically class-M. Sixty-eight percent surface water, atmosphere seventy-seven percent nitrogen and twenty-one percent oxygen. Indications thus far are of wide and varied ecosystems both on land and in the ocean.”

Will leaned closer to the display. The planet was perfect; pristine, a universe away from the ravaged, dead, desert world they had left behind a month ago. Even from the immense height at which the probe was orbiting, he could make out verdant forests, wide river deltas, rich ocean currents, tropical island chains, sweeping grasslands…

“Well stop me if I’m wrong,” he said after a moment, “but this planet doesn’t look as though it’s been touched by… well, anything, ever.”

T’Sera spared him half a glance over her shoulder. “Indeed. Deep-ground scans reveal only a fraction of the orbital assault indicators we have previously observed. That would explain the much shorter recovery period of this world compared to the others.”

Den spoke at this point. “And the surface readings from earlier? Anything new there?” His antennae were erect, poised, as though he were sensing for imminent danger, but before Will could ask, T’Sera had spoken again.

“There is definitely an active interference pattern covering approximately seven hundred square kilometres on the ground in a circular fashion. But as for the cause, we still cannot determine.”

“The same location as before?” Temaga’s voice was as impassive as the Vulcan’s.

T’Sera nodded. “Equatorial continent, approximately ten degrees south. Local sunrise was twenty-two minutes ago.” She used two fingers to tighten the main image until a section of the planet filled the entire screen. Will could see a wide river running roughly east-to-west, to the south of which lay a dense, green forest, and to the north an expansive, open plain. What drew his eye, however, lay right in the centre – a faint area of shimmering, rippling air, like a distant heat haze. Whatever it was, it was certainly not natural.

“The hell’s causing that?” Will asked. “Some kind of cloaking device?”

“The area of distortion is too generalised for any method of cloaking we have previously encountered,” T’Sera replied, a faint crease now appearing between her slanting eyebrows. “I would not care to speculate further before we can gather more information.”

Temaga traced the edge of her mouth with a finger, her face smoothly inscrutable. “What about that ring system?” Her hawklike eyes tightened on the thin silver band of the rings, viewed almost edge-on. Relegating the live feed from the probe to a smaller display, T’Sera replaced it with a graphic viewing the planet from the top down. The silvery-grey streak of the rings formed an incomplete circle, a graceful bow above the surface, but the two narrow ends of the arc, thousands of kilometres apart, were instantly obvious to everyone.

“The ‘ring’ is composed of both rocky and refined metallic debris,” T’Sera read from her monitor. “The level of refinement and quantity of debris indicates a highly developed technological ability, as well as significant industrial capacity. The ring completes approximately two-hundred-fifty degrees of arc.”

At this, Nathan leaned forward on one foot, speaking for the first time. “If the ring doesn’t fully encircle the planet, wouldn’t that mean it’s a recent formation?” His words were calm, but Will thought he could detect a trace of excitement beneath the measured, professional interest.

“Indeed,” the Vulcan replied, whose voice by contrast sounded entirely oblivious to the nature of the news she was imparting. “This level of distribution would suggest the event, or events took place within the last fifty thousand years.”

“Or shall we say, twenty-five thousand years?” Will had not intended his statement to be so ominous, but he nonetheless felt the tension among the group increase slightly. Clearly, Temaga and the others were thinking along the same lines as he. T’Sera, however, was unperturbed.

“As I said, I’d prefer not to speculate.”

“Alright.” The captain’s voice rang out, addressing the bridge at large and moving back towards the centre seat. “We’ll hold off on speculation until we have more information. Status of offload prep?”

“Underway,” Den answered at once; Will caught his eye and nodded his agreement. “Everything should be ready to go by the time we reach orbit – but Sir, I still suggest we wait.”

Temaga levelled her gaze at the XO as she sank into her chair. Den’s use of ‘Sir’ was an invocation of protocol; something he had not been driven to do with her in some years. “Wait for what, Commander?” she asked evenly. “A full survey of this system would take weeks. We’ve demonstrated to my satisfaction the planet poses no risk to us. Tactical Officer Gates,” she called to Will, who still lingered with Nathan and T’Sera by the science station. “Your threat assessment, please.”

Will hesitated for a mere second, his gaze caught between his two superiors. “No danger in my estimation at this time, Captain.” In deference to the first officer’s concerns, he moved across the bridge to the tactical station and added, “It’ll take at least another day to reach the planet at sub-light, that’s more than enough time for me to run a more detailed analysis.”

Temaga nodded once at him before turning back to face the viewscreen. “Helm.” Her composure was perfect; poised at the edge of her chair, she kept her back straight, her head erect and her gaze forward, the dark waves of her hair framing her determined face and hard, amber eyes. In this moment she was every inch a captain.

“Engage.”

She felt, rather than heard, the distant roar of the sublight engines coming to life, the vibrations transmitting through the deck plates to her feet obvious to her as they were to no one else. At the same moment she perceived Den taking a small step backward in deference, or – possibly – silent protest.

“Excuse me,” Nathan muttered, breaking away from the group at the science station and making his way to the command arena. Will saw him catch Temaga’s eye and ask something inaudible, to which she nodded and inclined her head toward the ready room door. For a second it seemed as though Nathan might look back, but then he was crossing the ready room threshold and the doors were sliding shut behind him, hiding him from view.

 

“Personal journal, stardate: 62195.97.

“It looks like this could be it. Really it. We found our trail. We found our Rosetta stone. And now we’ve found a planet, exactly where we thought we would. Helena keeps telling me to be realistic, to be objective, that this is probably too good to be true and another false lead… she’s wrong. I can’t even explain it to myself. But every instinct I have is telling me this is the place. This next hour is going to be the longest of my life.

And if I am setting myself up for the biggest fall of my career, at least it’ll be a long, long time before anyone back home can say ‘I told you so...’”

Since the order to get underway, Nathan had barely left Temaga’s ready room, his feet up on the sofa beneath the starboard-facing windows. It was as comfortable a place to wait as anywhere on the ship, and adequately furnished with anything he might need. If he was hungry, he had the replicator. If he needed relief, there was the bathroom. If he needed entertainment, he had access to any computer database on the ship.

So he had spent the last twenty-three hours in almost total solitude, doing what he spent so much of his recent time doing – poring over the substantial notes he had taken from each of the thirteen planets they had visited over the past year, cross-referencing local mythology and contradictory histories, theorising and re-theorising everything and anything.

Captain Temaga had joined him several times, but she had never stayed for more than a few minutes. Nathan knew she was as restless and nervous by now as he was – it had been her recommendation to Starfleet that had convinced them to sponsor, and protect, his expedition. Her triumphs in the war with the Dominion ten years ago had given her name a lot of weight, both within Starfleet Command and the Federation government, and she had pushed hard for a renewed peaceful exploration of the unknown, apparently empty territories of the Beta Quadrant following the Dominion surrender and withdrawal. If the last eleven months turned out to be for nothing, he knew her neck would be on the line as much as his.

“Computer, time?” Nathan directed his question to the walls, and the metallic female voice answered at once.

“Twelve-hundred hours, forty-seven minutes.”

Nathan ran a hand over his face, the stubble of recent days rough beneath his touch. Locking both hands behind his head, he was halfway through a luxurious stretch, well-needed after so much time spent in one place, when the door chimed.

He let his taut limbs fall and glanced to his right, and then straight ahead to the aft wall of the ready room. The call had not come from the main door to the bridge, but rather the side door beside the captain’s desk. Nathan knew it led to a small corridor via which the captain could access her private facilities or leave the upper deck without disturbing the bridge, but he could not imagine who would be seeking to enter her ready room that way. More to cancel the annoying blinking light beside the door frame than anything else, Nathan sat up and said, “Yes?”

The doors opened to reveal Doctor Knight, her sheets of white hair prominent against the half-light of the narrow corridor behind her. “We all got bored of waiting for you down below,” she said without preamble, striding into the room and swatting away his legs so she could sit on the sofa beside him, “so get your ass up and tell me what’s happening already.”

“Shit.” Nathan ran a hand through his hair. Helena had called an hour ago and asked him to update the civilian teams on the findings from the bridge. He had agreed, said he’d be right there – and then not moved. “Sorry, I got distracted. Hey –” He made a grab for the tablet Helena had snatched up from his lap, but she held it far out of his reach and seized his wrist as she read aloud.

“If I’m setting myself up for the biggest fall of my career, at least it’ll be a long time before anyone can say ‘I told you so.’” She fixed Nathan with a stern eye. “Seriously? Second thoughts, now? You, of all people?” Helena released his wrist and he shook his hand to return the blood flow.

“Fuck yourself,” he muttered, and Helena’s brilliant grin illuminated her face as she returned her gaze to the tablet.

“Oh, and you mention me as well!” She placed a sarcastic hand over her heart. “And you’re right. We all need to stay objective – and objectively, I believe we’re on the right track.”

Nathan’s fair eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

The stern look was back. “Of course I do. Look, as...” she cast around, evidently searching for a delicate enough word. “As enthusiastic as you get when defending your theories, I’ve never known you to take a stance based on idle speculation, or self-flattering conjecture.”

“Now that’s funny,” Nathan said resentfully, “considering I think those were the exact criticisms I received when I submitted my papers for peer review.”

“Oh sure,” Helena retorted. “But don’t go making out you’re doubting your theory now. You obviously upset the consensus enough to put us out here. And most everything we’ve turned up so far has supported your argument, and you know it. I’m just trying to keep you grounded, make sure it doesn’t run away with you.” She caught his eye and offered him a genuine smile, which he returned, albeit reluctantly.

“Thanks. I think.”

“So come on. What’s new?”

“As if T’Sera didn’t already tell you.”

Helena chuckled. “Of course she did. But there’s nothing quite like hearing it from someone who sounds like they actually care about what they’re saying. So – come on.”

Nathan smirked. “Nah. I think you can wait a bit longer.”

“Fuck yourself,” Helena said, openly laughing now. Beside her, Nathan joined in, but at that moment a rhythmic chirping sounded from the tablet in her hand, and she felt him go oddly still. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitated. “I set it to notify me when we reached orbit.”

Helena’s grin faded as she saw, for the first time, the shadow of genuine doubt flicker across his face. “Hey.” She touched his shoulder. “Grounded, remember?”

The intercom sounded and Captain Temaga’s voice spoke before he could answer. “Doctor Carson, report to the bridge.”

Nathan nodded and let out a sharp exhale. “Grounded. Got it.” He stood and shared a glance with Helena. “Coming?”

“Sure?” she asked in mild surprise.

“Sure,” he replied. “You never know. I might need you.”

Helena stood up, beaming. “You don’t say! Let’s do it.”

 

Sunlight, white tinged with brilliant red, gleamed across Beltane’s silver-grey hull as she found herself succumbing to the immense gravity of the planet before her. Under the careful direction of the flight control officer on the bridge, the starship turned her forked, triangular primary hull to perform a quarter-arc to starboard, slowly entering into a counter-clockwise orbital path. Within the engineering section between and below the twin warp engines, the titanic energies produced by the matter-antimatter reactor lessened to a mere whisper, the brilliant blue-white grilles along the nacelles fading to dull copper as the faster-than-light drive was powered down.

Standing behind the helm at the fore of the command arena, the planet filling the viewscreen directly ahead, Nathan watched the delicate manoeuvres in silence, the blood unnaturally loud in his ears. Despite the close attention he had been paying, it still came as a surprise when the pilot - what was her name again? - spoke, keeping her gaze ahead but directing her voice behind to the captain.

“Standard orbit, sir.”

Nathan returned his attention to the screen, the bridge’s window to the space beyond. Occupying almost a full quarter of the circular bridge wall, it was not a true window in that it offered a direct view of the outside - that style of view port had been abandoned decades ago in all but the most rear line starship designs. Rather, the modern viewscreen was a complex miracle of holography, interpreting the vast array of raw data from the ship’s sensors into a single three-dimensional and endlessly adaptable image. Tilting his head, Nathan could see the subtle changes in the perspective of the planet to their left, its axial tilt causing the shining silver rings to apparently fall gently away beneath them before rising again thousands of kilometres ahead.

Behind him, Temaga got to her feet and took a few steps forward. Nathan turned and saw the senior staff, Will and T’Sera among them, watching her with anticipation. Apparently steeling herself for a brief moment, the captain gave her orders with quiet determination.

“Have all departments stand by for offload. Will - I want your full threat assessment before we make another move. Professor,” she glanced over her shoulder at T’Sera, “I want every sensor on this ship looking at that disturbance on the ground. Tell me what’s going on down there.”

Hearing their acknowledgements as they moved to their respective stations, she looked forward again. Within seconds the image on the screen had shifted, zooming to a particular spot on the surface a few degrees before their current horizon. The heat-like haze of yesterday’s telemetry was gone - Beltane’s visual sensors could finally tell them what the probe could not. Viewed as though through a camera only a few miles away, Nathan and the others could see in rich detail a wide, rolling expanse of empty grassland - empty, but for a single spire breaking through the ground in the centre of the image like a grossly enlarged needle, the light from the sun behind them throwing a dark, slender shadow across the plain.

“My God.” The oath left Nathan’s lips without conscious thought. He moved past the helm console up to the raised level of the rest of the bridge, halting mere inches from the viewscreen. He felt as though he merely had to reach out and touch the tower before him. T’Sera had rotated the image so that the ground appeared parallel to the deck, the spire thrusting upwards into the sky. The crumbling red towers of planet Thirteen paled in comparison to this. Even from here Nathan could see the similarities in architecture, decorative embellishment, silhouette and proportions, as perfect now as the day it was first built.

“Any readings, Professor?” Temaga's voice was hushed. Every eye on the bridge was now on the main screen. T’Sera alone seemed unmoved by the spectacle before them.

“Beyond being able to see the tower we know nothing more. The interference remains and continues to hamper sensor readings.”

Helena spoke up. “Why can we see the tower now, when we couldn’t before?”

“Unknown.” The slightest crease appeared between T’Sera’s eyebrows as she returned her attention to her monitors. “I cannot isolate the moment it became visible, nor why it should appear at this time.”

“Lieutenant Gates? What do you have?” Nathan saw Temaga move to stand behind Will at the tactical station to the left of the viewscreen.

The tactical officer shook his head. “More nothing. No energy readings, no signals or subspace emissions. No indication there’s anything happening down there, or up here.”

“Captain,” T’Sera said, hot on the tail of Will’s report, “may I suggest, given our apparently limited ability to gather data remotely, that the only way we can answer our questions is to see the tower for ourselves.”

A smile tugged at one corner of Temaga’s mouth. “Had enough speculation for one day, Professor?”

The Vulcan inclined her head and lifted one shoulder in a gesture that might have been called a shrug. “It’s only logical.”

Temaga directed her next question to the ops station. “Where do we stand with transporters?”

The ops officer shook her head. “Checking, but wouldn’t recommend it, sir. That interference is screwing around with the target lock, you could materialise a kilometre below ground or worse…”

Nathan, still stood by the helm, glanced over his shoulder at the captain. Seeing the unspoken question behind her determination, he nodded once to her before turning his attention back to the viewscreen.

“Alright.” The captain’s voice rang clear through the bridge, turning every head towards her. “We’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Ops, inform shuttle bay we will be making multiple launches to the surface. Department heads,” she added, touching her com badge, “gather your away teams and meet us in the shuttle bay ASAP. XO, you have the conn.”

Knowing what was coming next, she steeled herself as the half-dozen or so people she had indicated - Will, Nathan and T’Sera among them - moved across the bridge to the turbolift. She caught sight of Commander th’Den on the move as well and decided to forestall his objections.

“Den,” she said in a low voice as he approached her. “I know what you’re gonna say. But it’s captain’s prerogative to accompany the away team. We’ve been preparing for this for weeks, there’s no foreseeable danger.”

Den’s brow furrowed, his antennae curling inward toward each other. “It’s the danger we can’t foresee that worries me,” he replied, his voice as low as hers - it would not do to be heard disagreeing with his captain in such a public setting. “With sensors going haywire around that tower, you’ll literally be going in blind. Captain,” he glanced around the bridge before continuing, and chose his words carefully. “I’m concerned you’re letting your curiosity overrule your judgement. Orbiting the planet on the say-so of one probe is one thing… taking a shuttle to the surface without so much as determining why we can’t see the surface is, well…”

“Reckless?” Temaga’s eyes bored into his, unblinking. “A gamble? In violation of established protocol, just plain stupid?” Den found an annoyed half-smile forming in spite of himself. “I know, Den, I know. It is reckless.” She shook her head. “But everyone on this ship knows that, no one is going in blind. The potential rewards this mission could bring us, to the Federation outweigh any risk to us, and I think you know me well enough that I’m not one to risk my ship and crew on a whim.”

“No,” Den agreed, his voice now barely above a whisper. “But lately… I don’t know, Ariss. I’m your second. It’s my duty to keep you grounded, inform you when something’s wrong. And this place,” he jerked his head toward the screen, and his antennae stiffened at the sight, “has me feeling all kinds of wrong.”

Temaga lowered her gaze slightly. Even as Den spoke, she felt her finely trained Starfleet instincts agreeing with his every word. She should be more cautious, she should order more surveys and sensor sweeps, she should exhaust every possibility of defeating the interference remotely before taking a look herself. But her deeper nature, everything she was, was telling, urging, begging her to go.

“Den,” she said, meeting his eyes again, “I understand. I appreciate what you’re saying, truly. But this… this is something I need to do. I’ve invested too much to just sit safe up here and watch it all unfold.”

I’ve lost too much.

Her next words were at a normal volume as she gestured to the captain’s chair. “Thank you, commander. You have the bridge.”

Den hesitated, but accepted the command and took his seat. Temaga knew this would not be the end of the conversation, but as she turned her back on her first officer and walked towards the turbolift, she also knew that she didn’t care.

 

Although the largest single space on board the Beltane, the shuttle bay was hardly what you’d call large. Two decks in height, the hangar occupied the aftmost quarter of the secondary hull. Immediately afore and above were the two cargo decks, their huge loading doors currently open to allow the transfer of supplies now that the order to offload had come.

“Psst.”

In the control booth, Crewman Kira drummed his fingers along the top of the shuttle bay ops console, watching the throng of activity in the bay below. The captain’s unexpected order to proceed by shuttle rather than transporter had come barely ten minutes ago, catching the deckhands somewhat off guard. He could see a dozen of his colleagues swarming about the hangar deck, loading the four type-six shuttles with the supply crates readied by the cargo crews during their day-long cruise through the system. The arrival of what appeared to be the entire senior staff had only exacerbated the rush, no one wanting to be the reason why the landing party was delayed. Rior could see Lieutenant Gates peering into one of the crates before giving it an approving slap and allowing it to be loaded.

“Psst!”

Rior rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where the less-than-clandestine attempt to get his attention was coming from. He looked to his left to see Hanar poking her head around the control room doorway, grinning at him and waving her fingers.

“Are you for real? What do you want?”

“I just thought you might wanna head down below. You know, for your assignment.”

“I swear to Prophets I have no idea what you’re talking about half the time.”

Hanar giggled as she joined him at the console and called up the duty roster. “You should pay closer attention. You’ve been volunteered to fly the captain and co to the surface.”

“What the - ” Rior scanned the roster, startled. The short list of scheduled flights comprised four entries, one for each craft in the bay below. Sure enough, beside the first entry under the “Designated Pilot” column, was his name: Kira, R.

“Fuck me, how the hell did I end up chauffeur to the captain?”

Hanar shrugged, grinning at him. “I heard she requested you personally.” Seeing his raised eyebrow, she waved an airy hand. “Who knows, who cares? Just be glad you have me watching your back. FDO would have your ass if you missed your first taxi run.”

Rior grimaced and inclined his head in agreement. “You have a point. Okay,” he tapped his fingers on the console edge one last time before making for the door. Exiting into the short corridor beyond, he realised Hanar was following him closely. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, no thank you, driver. I’m fine.”

The smile in her words was evident even in the half-light from the overhead panels. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet. Rior stopped at the head of the ladder leading to the bay and narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re not…”

“Of course I am! Starfleet liaison to the civilian science teams, remember? Captain wants me to cut through any bullshit they might put in her way. Besides, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Rior gave a snort. “I had no idea you cared so much about ancient history.”

“I don’t,” Hanar smirked, “but the chance to see you sweat? I’ll take that any day.”

 

As it happened, however, sweat was the last thing on Rior’s mind - there was too much else to think about. After a quick briefing by Beltane’s Flight Direction Officer which basically amounted to ‘don’t screw this up’, he had boarded his shuttle, settled in the pilot’s seat and awaited his passengers. While running through the pre-flight checklist with the officer on duty in the control booth he had just vacated, he kept one ear on what the captain was saying to her senior staff and the other landing parties, now crowded around the boarding ramp at the shuttle’s rear.

“Okay people,” she called, her voice ringing around the bay, her words clear and deliberate. Even the deckhands clearing the last of the transfer equipment from the hangar stopped to listen. “We are about to get our first look at planet Fourteen. If Doctor Carson is correct, this is our ‘Motherworld’, this is our final destination. We have scouted the system to the best of our ability and there are no life forms, no threat that we can so far detect. Nevertheless, there is substantial sensor interference obscuring the area of the planet’s surface we intend to investigate. That could imply some remnant technology, or some other activity of which we are not aware.”

She paused, looking at the faces of each of the people surrounding her; Nathan, Will, T’Sera and Hanar, who would be joining her on the first shuttle, and those of the other officers and scientists who would follow. In each face she could see, to varying degrees, the same thrill of adrenaline and trepidation that had dogged her since entering this system.

“My officers and I are confident that we have done everything possible to ensure the safety of this expedition. Even so, this landing is not without risk. Myself, Doctor Carson,” she indicated each of them in turn, “Lieutenant Gates, Professor T’Sera and Ensign Dzhan will join Crewman Kira in the first shuttle. We will make the first landing, we will assess the situation on the surface, and if we determine the area to be safe, the other three ships will join us down there.”

She hesitated again, before allowing a smile to touch her lips. “I guess this is your last chance to tell me you want out.”

There was a smattering of laughter amongst the crowd, but no one spoke. After a moment, a soft Edinburgh accent cut the silence.

“Permission to get underway, captain.”

Temaga saw the smirk and heard the good-natured impatience in Nathan’s voice, even if no one else did. She grinned at him and nodded. “Let’s go.”

So one by one, the captain and her cohorts had boarded the shuttle and taken seats facing each other in the rear compartment - all except the captain herself, who had assumed the co-pilot seat to Rior’s left. He could feel her eyes on him as he powered up and guided the craft out of the shuttle bay, but was mildly grateful she did not try and say anything to him. Unlike the others, who were making small talk in the back seats as Beltane fell behind, she remained entirely silent, taking in the glorious expanse of the blue-green world below them. Risking a glance to his left as the shuttle approached the edges of the atmosphere, Rior could see Temaga’s amber eyes darting from the mountains to the rivers to the grasslands, taking in the vast landscape growing more detailed with every minute. There was something beyond curiosity in her expression, something more like… hunger?

Her reverie was broken as the shuttle entered a cloud layer and the view was replaced by a dull white glow. She looked to her right and Rior, embarrassed to be caught staring, quickly returned his attention to the instruments and readouts before him.

“Keep her steady, crewman. We’re nearly there.”

Rior looked back and was relived to see her smiling. He was off the hook. “Yes, sir. Five minutes to tower coordinates.” He double checked the altimeter and atmospheric scan to his right and directed his voice aft. “If you guys want your first look, we’re about to leave the clouds. It’s clear skies from here on.”

The four passengers got to their feet and crowded behind the two pilot seats. There was perhaps a single second of anticipation before the clouds beyond the windshield broke and fell behind, revealing a wide, green, open plain a few kilometres below, stretching to the horizon ahead. To the south, on their right, could be seen the winding river identified on the orbital scans, and in the far distance to the left the ground rose in gentle foothills, beyond which they knew a mountain range bisected the continent, too far below the horizon to be seen from here.

But no one in the shuttle noticed any of this. Every eye was fixated on the shining, silver-grey tower rising from the ground directly ahead. As the shuttle moved closer, Rior slowed and began a wide circle around the building, allowing the visual sensors to record every detail. Already he could hear Doctor Carson commenting, more to himself than any of the others, on the similarity of the architecture to that which they had uncovered on previous planets. Aside from his flyby of the tower remnants on Thirteen, Rior knew nothing to confirm what he was saying, but he still found himself drawn to the tower, its’ wide circular base in the grassland below rising gently towards the centre, then curving inwards before tapering up to a needle-sharp point a mile above the surface. He could see nothing to indicate windows or floors, but the surface was intricately decorated, silvery threads of polished metal clinging to the darker grey stone in an endless pattern of circles, loops and arcs, as though it told a story in some long-forgotten language. Which, Rior reminded himself, might not be far from the truth.

“Set us down, crewman,” Temaga’s order came softly but firmly. “Right at the base of the tower.”

Rior nodded, and found that he was holding his breath as he directed the shuttle towards the ground. There seemed to be no boundary where the tower met the grass, as though it simply grew out of the earth. He could feel Doctor Carson’s hand gripping his headrest as the shuttle turned once more so the exit ramp faced the tower, before finally bringing her to rest on the ground.

“After you,” the captain said, rising from her seat and nodding to Nathan. The red-head moved back into the aft compartment, hesitated slightly and then, almost reluctantly, pressed the button to lower the ramp.

Sunlight and fresh air touched their faces for the first time in over a month. A cold breeze filled their lungs as the six people moved around the crates stacked in the rear section of the shuttle and descended the ramp onto planet Fourteen. Lieutenant Gates had point, his phaser rifle ready, eyes roving the base of the tower and the grassland beyond for any hint of danger. Rior saw a look of understanding pass between him and Doctor Carson, and the lieutenant paused in his exit just enough to allow Nathan the first footstep on the new planet. Once on the ground they moved in opposite directions, Nathan to the left and Will to the right, treading cautiously with their eyes on their tricorders, scanning the area intensely.

Hanar and T’Sera came next, followed closely by Rior. The professor held her hand scanner aloft, but stayed within a few paces of the shuttle. Hanar and Rior moved together, sharing a single tricorder and following Nathan’s general direction to the left of the tower.

Temaga, meanwhile, took a slow, straight line from the rear of the shuttle. Within seconds she felt her boots make contact with the smooth stone of the slightly inclined tower base. A few more paces brought her to a halt as some of the fine silver filigree came within reach. She lowered herself until she knelt on one knee and touched her fingers to the gleaming metal. Ahead of her she saw a swift, fluid motion as the stonework contorted, reshaping itself into a horizontal walkway cut into the inclined base, ending in what was unmistakably a door to the tower’s interior.

The change had caught the attention of the others, who swiftly began making their way over to her, their words inaudible over the rush of the wind. Temaga let out a long exhale she hadn’t even realised she had been holding, and straightened up, a single thought singing a triumphant chorus in her mind.

I’m home.

© 1966-2022 Paramount; All Rights Reserved; Star Trek (and associated characters, events and locations) is the property of CBS and Paramount Pictures. Original characters, events and locations I claim for myself.
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