Episode Thirty-Four - "The Way Things Were, Part 2"

Star Trek: Fortitude

Season Three, Episode Eight - “The Way Things Were, Part 2”

By Jack D. Elmlinger

PROLOGUE

Last time on Star Trek: Fortitude…

Thanks to the recent troubles caused by a mysterious Tah’Heen operative, Captain Ewan Llewellyn of the USS Fortitude, undertakes a journey back to Earth in order to gather intelligence related to the possible threat. Taking his First Officer, Commander Valerie Archer along with him aboard the Danube-class runabout USS Snohomish, NCC-59876, he is en route when a powerful energy vortex appears directly in their path and throws them into chaos.

Awakening in a daze, Captain Llewellyn and Commander Archer find themselves face-to-face with the infamous Enterprise, NX-01, and realize that they have been thrown back in time to May 5th 2152. With a gap of over two hundred and fifty years in both technology and historical knowledge, a tentative meeting takes place between the 24th-century Starfleet officers and Captain Jonathan Archer aboard the NX-01 where it is confirmed that Commander Archer is the legendary hero’s descendant. Before the timeline can be altered dramatically by exposing secrets of the future, Temporal Agent Daniels appears and explains the entire incident as an accidental side effect of the ongoing Temporal Cold War.

When the Suliban Cabal, led by the sinister Silik, appears and demands the Snohomish for their own nefarious purposes, a gigantic dogfight in space results in a hull breach aboard the runabout. Finding Commander Archer lying beside him fatally wounded by a shard of debris, Captain Llewellyn admits to his deep personal feelings for his First Officer and shares a tender kiss in her final moments…

… and now the conclusion.

ACT ONE

“Captain, one of the life signs aboard the runabout has faded,” a concerned T’Pol reported from the science station aboard the Enterprise, NX-01, her icy Vulcan demeanor not allowing that concern to be revealed. “My readings show only one surviving crew member after the hull breach.”

Jonathan Archer could have sworn an obscenity. It was his call to use Enterprise as a shield to protect the smaller future vessel, and now look at what had happened. The infuriated Suliban had circumvented him entirely and killed one of the 24th-century Starfleet officers… perhaps they had even killed the one who claimed to be his direct descendant. Despite being told not to by Daniels and by the future Captain himself, he wanted to ask her a few more questions. Perhaps, now with that chance gone. He felt his blood pressure rise in the increasing anger that he had difficulty keeping in check.

“Keep firing,” he ordered, single-minded as to not lose the second and final lifesign. “Target the lead Cell Ship! Phase cannons to full power!”

Malcolm Reed confirmed his orders, unleashing two relentless beams of orange-red energy from the ventral hull of Enterprise and blowing up a Suliban vessel. More of them swung around and returned the devastating attack in kind, but Malcolm’s precision combined with the fine piloting skills of Travis Mayweather made them easy targets.

“We’ve destroyed six targets,” Reed noted for a moment, his focus locked into the targeting sensors on his console. “That leaves fourteen Cell Ships still out there!”

“Captain,” Ensign Hoshi Sato piped in,” we’re being hailed.”

“Put it up,” Archer nodded.

“You’re losing, Captain,” Silik hissed at him. “Why not stand down?”

“That’s funny,” Archer retorted, though his temper was short. “It looks like we’re doing okay from here.”

“Give us the future vessel!”

“How about we keep knocking out your Cell Ships?”

Suddenly T’Pol caught her Captain’s attention. Jerking his thumb across his neck, Archer signaled to Hoshi to cut communications with Silik as he moved quickly to the science station. Once there, he saw what had the Vulcan woman so animated, even for her. The readings were both alarming and satisfying.

“It doesn’t appear that we’ll have to destroy any more of the Cell Ships,” the Vulcan observed drylu. “Providing, that is, you allow this to continue.”

Captain Archer was torn.

On T’Pol’s screen, there was an image of the runabout. It was barrelling through the battlefield, relentlessly targeting Cell Ships and blasting them into tiny spinning pieces of twisted alloy. One enemy vessel tried to counterattack but it was rammed… rammed! Whoever was at the controls of the Snohomish had presumably gone insane! Three more Cell Ships fell before another and another. Soon only four of them remained, including the one keeping the most distance from the fray. Archer deduced that was the one containing the slimy, cowardly Silik.

“The remaining Cell Ships are retreating, Captain,” Malcolm reported.

“Should I follow?,” asked Travis from the helm.

“No, stand down and come alongside the runabout,” Archer mused, returning to his command chair and perching on the edge. “Hoshi, hail them. I want to know just what that little moment of madness was all about.”

Ensign Sato made the call. “No response, Captain…

* * * *

Like all Denobulans, Doctor Phlox was a being of great compassion.

Still, there were times when he recognized the need to assert his authority over Sickbay and generally be cruel to be kind. This was one such time when materializing in a strange blue transporter beam directly in the center of his floor, the visitors from the future appeared, bloody and bruised. The male, Ewan Llewellyn, was carrying the female, Valerie Archer, and it looked as though the latter was a casualty of the recent battle.

“Doctor, help her!,” Ewan barked at him.

Taken somewhat by surprise, Phlox did his best to leap into action. For Ewan, it simply wasn’t good enough. The woman that he loved, the woman that he had never told, had died in his arms. If this were indeed the 24th century, reanimation within minutes of death wasn’t entirely impossible but here in the 22nd century, it was a false hope. As Phlox ran his medical scanner over the ghastly wound in Valerie’s abdomen, his face gave the diagnosis before his mouth could.

“Damn it!,” yelled the Welshman, crippled by his emotional agony. “You… you can’t do anything? I don’t know… dermal regenerator? Operate? Anything?”

“I’m sorry, but the wound is too extensive,” Phlox calmly stated, trying to bring the room down a notch and hopefully bring Captain Llewellyn down with it. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Listen to me, Doctor,” snarled Llewellyn, his pain becoming manifest in unbridled anger as he launched across the biobed which Valerie rested upon and seized the Denobulan by his shirt collar. “I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what crazy primitive method that you use. Leeches, scalpels, your bare hands… you bring her back! You bring her back right now, you son of a bitch! It’s your job. You’re the bloody Doctor! You fix things. You heal people. Well, heal her! Bring her back!”

Phlox stared, entirely without fear, into the trembling visage of Ewan Llewellyn. It was time to assert his authority. He had seen the sweat mix with the dirt and the blood before. Not this particular sweat and blood, of course, on this particular tanned forehead under this particular dark hair… but he had seen it.

Fighting, the end result was always the same. Everybody was somebody’s child, many were somebody’s parent, and there were those who were somebody’s partner. It destroyed those who were left behind, doing the kind of damage that he was helpless to repair.

Inches away from Ewan’s face, ignoring the hands clasped around his throat, he kept his tone steady. “Unhand me, Captain. There is nothing that can be done. She is gone.”

“I don’t believe you!,” Ewan screamed, tears now joining that sweat, that blood.

“This is a Sickbay and I’m the Doctor. I’m the only person that you should believe. I am deeply sorry but the wound is too extensive. Now, kindly release me before I call Security and you can grieve while under guard.”

Was it harsh? Unfortunately, yes, but he stood by it nonetheless.

It worked.

Ewan let the Denobulan go, collapsing backwards and crashing to the floor as the tears flowed more freely and his body retreated inward. When Jonathan Archer entered Sickbay at that moment, seeing the scene that had just unfolded and suppressed his own violent reaction.

ACT TWO

Captain’s Star Log, May 6th, 2152;

After chasing the Suliban attack away from Enterprise and the future Starfleet runabout, I’ve ordered my crew to begin repairs. As Daniels works to find a way of returning Captain Ewan Llewellyn to the 24th century, I’m doing the best that I can to comfort my opposite number after the tragic loss of his First Officer… who just also might be my great, great-granddaughter. To say this is one of the more unusual log entries that I’ve made over the past year on Enterprise is perhaps the biggest understatement of my career.

The coffee tasted strange.

As Ewan's lips found the rim of the small cup and tilted the beverage into his quivering mouth, he realized that it wouldn’t be replicated coffee. No, this was the real thing with real side effects. On that note, he gulped the entire drink down, welcoming whatever relief that he could find from his present condition. Handing the empty cup and saucer back to his host, he beckoned for another.

Jonathan Archer was only too happy to oblige. While he had never gone through a situation as nightmarish as what happened aboard the runabout, never having faced the loss of a loved one, he could barely imagine the suffering that Ewan was going through. It was a torment beyond words, made all the more bitter by the fact that the mutual attraction between them had never been explored. Valerie liked Ewan and Ewan liked Valerie… loved each other, even, but in secret.

“A few more cups of this should sort that tremor that you’ve got going,” Archer noted with an attempt at a smile. “Or, at the very least, replace your tremor with a caffeine-related one.”

“Thanks,” Ewan replied weakly, swallowing another mouthful.

“I know that this probably breaks every regulation in your Temporal Prime Directive,” his host asked his misplaced, heartbroken guest,” but tell me about her. I promise that I won’t write down anything about the future.”

The Welshman looked at him and across the cramped Ready Room of the NX-class starship. For a fraction of a second, the overriding thought of Valerie subsided in his mind, allowing him to size up this heroic legend. This was the man who had several planets named after him. He had put the first signature on the Federation Charter. The man who had an entire semester at the Academy devoted to his ten-year mission, and he was the son of Henry Archer, perhaps the biggest name in warp drive history behind that of Zefram Cochrane. Here he was, pouring a simple thirty-seven-year-old officer from Swansea, Wales, another cup of coffee and trying his best to comfort his loss. Perhaps it was the fact that all of the circumstances surrounding those events were just so unreal. Perhaps it was the caffeine, but Ewan felt an incredible numb all of a sudden.

“What would you like to know?,” he finally asked him, lifting his head slightly.

“Well, for starters, how did she get to be your First Officer?,” Archer suggested, right off the bat.

Setting aside the quickly-emptied cup, Ewan cleared his throat and sifted through his memory. Images, sensations, and sounds… all from the early 2370s and all centuries away from where and when he saw now.

“My career wasn’t overly dramatic to begin with,” he slowly started to recall. “I was assigned to Stellar Cartography aboard the USS Hood and I returned to the Sol System to work on starship design. When I was promoted to Captain, given my own ship, and asked to select my own crew… I knew that I needed someone sitting beside me who had been out there, and who had seen the things that I could only imagine. I needed a strong right hand who could win a good fight. You see… I was somewhat of a pacifist.”

Archer gave a half-hearted laugh. Ewan frowned, silently asking for a reason.

“Sorry,” came the awkward apology. “It’s just, in principle, I wholeheartedly agree. However, in practice, I’ve found out that being the Captain doesn’t allow for pacifism.”

“That’s something that I’ve learned the hard way,” Ewan admitted to him. “Valerie helped me learn that lesson, along with a few others. She should have really been in command from the start, not me. Our first mission was to rescue a Starbase from an alien attack. We now call that Starbase home. When it came to the fight, I had the gusto to wade in but with a total lack of tactical know-how. Valerie was there. All I had to do was give her a look and she would leap right in, and win us the fight. She was incredible.”

“I can imagine. We Archers are made of strong stuff. We always have been.”

Llewellyn once again showed a frown out from underneath his dark fringe. This time, he wasn’t seeking an answer but a retraction. Archer got the message, knowing that he shouldn’t have been addressing the issue of his future family. One tiny change was all that it would take and there might not be a future family to speak off. Which would mean no Valerie and Ewan couldn’t stomach that thought. It was the thought that he was left with now.

“I can’t believe she’s gone, Captain,” he whispered in defeat.

* * * *

Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker III was absolutely baffled, once again.

Hovering in Engineering like a protective parent defending his beloved daughter, Trip was watching Daniels fiddle and tinker with technology that was beyond his comprehension and he was doing it dangerously close to the Warp Five engine that he had nursed and cared for in his position as Chief Engineer of Enterprise. Of course, Daniels himself was somewhat beyond Trip’s comprehension. Last year, he had watched as he had been vaporized at the merciless hands of Silik and yet in another twist thrown up by the headache-inducing Temporal Cold War, he was back, risen from beyond the grave.

“You do know what you’re doin’, right?”

“Commander Tucker,” the younger man sighed,” for the fifth time, yes!”

“I’m sorry. What does this thing do exactly, anyway?”

Pointing to the strange, smooth device in Daniels’ grasp, Trip frowned, trying to get a clearer line of sight inside the internal workings. Not that it would have done him any good to see inside of it as the technology inside of it was no less complicated than seeing the effect that it produced. Daniels was too busy analyzing the holographic display that floated before his eyes to stop Trip’s advances, too busy, bathed in the clinical blue glow of his work to bat his hands away.

“It coalesces various timestreams together,” the Temporal Agent murmured,” and I don't mind telling you that because you wouldn’t understand how it does so or what it should, or even what to do with… ah-ha!”

“Ah-ha,” Trip noted eagerly,” ah-ha sounds good. Say, while you’re makin’ progress, I’ve got a question for you. How come you’re so determined to protect the Capt’n from danger, but you allowed that future Starfleet officer to die?”

Daniels paused for a moment, wondering if he should act offended or otherwise. “Commander Valerie Archer, not to mention, Captain Ewan Llewellyn, is a wonderful person and a successful Starfleet officer,” he finally replied, opting for honesty in a rare break from his usual cryptic deportment. “Your Captain is a little more fundamental to the fabric of history. He had a destiny that I believe should be protected, even at the expense of wonderful people like her.”

“I’m getting a little tired of having my fortune told without my asking,” a familiar voice snapped at them from behind. Jonathan Archer had joined them, letting his annoyance subside in favor of a progress report. “What’s the latest?”

“I believe I’ve found a way to return the timeline to moral, Captain,” Daniels stated with some caution as he deactivated his holographic display.”

“But…?”

“There's a degree of risk involved. We should speak with Captain Llewellyn.”

ACT THREE

Ewan Llewellyn could be found in the Mess Hall of the NX-01. It was empty at this time of day with the lights turned down low, allowing for a better view of the stars outside the ship.

The strange stars…

The younger stars looked so much different than the stars that he was used to looking at. So much about this time period was unsettling and so much about this place was too far removed from the 24th century. Violence seemed to be an everyday occurence for Jonathan Archer, with fighting being a regular activity. It was a miracle that, until now, nobody from Enterprise had been lost in battle and it was a savage injustice that the one person to be lost was an innocent visitor who was out of her own place and her own time.

Ewan bowed his head. He was thinking about Jason Armstrong, understanding how he must have felt and how he feels now after losing Jim Morgan to the Klingons. There was a youngster on the first rung of the promotion ladder, coping with such devastation from day to day and yet coping nevertheless. Here was a Captain, supposedly stronger, a leader of men and women, who was doubting his ability to cope. In that moment of reflection, his respect for his Kentuckian operations officer tripled.

The door opened behind him, the sound barely registering in his mind.

“Captain Llewellyn?,” a voice called out. “Captain Llewellyn?”

“Yes… yes, sorry,” Ewan finally responded, turning to see Jonathan Archer and Daniels standing together. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually,” Archer smiled, as it was obvious that he had come, bearing good news,” I was thinking that we could do something for you. We have a way of sending you home to the 24th century. It’s risky but Daniels tells me that it should work.”

“The temporal anomaly that your runabout fell through,” Daniels explained to him, stepping forward past the empty tables,” was the side effect of a massive temporal incursion that I’ve managed to trace through the time streams. By identifying which incursion caused your particular anomaly, I can prevent it, thus preventing all of the collateral damage… including your unfortunate journey back here.”

“You mean,” Llewellyn asked carefully as he barely understood him,” if the anomaly never occurred, the runabout would have never encountered it?”

The Welshman from the future gave a big sigh, wrapping his mind around this new information slowly, absorbing all of the facets that he could manage. As he analyzed Daniels’ words, he suddenly remembered the mention of a risk. Indeed, he thought that it sounded a little too good to be true.

With a frown, he posed the question,” What’s the risk?”

“The nature of the incursion that I’ll be dealing with is delicate,” Daniels imparted under the steady gaze of Captain Archer. “We Temporal Agents had our own set of rules, much like your Temporal Prime Directive. If I fail to stop the incursions, I won’t be able to keep traveling back and forth through time infinitely. I’ll have one chance, and only one chance before I have to stand down and the incursion becomes part of what we call Solid Time or an Irreversible Historical Fact.”

“Making my presence in the 22nd century…”

“... permanent, and your hopes for returning home futile,” Daniels confirmed.

Before anybody could speak again, Ewan blinked hard. Something had snapped in his mind. A lightbulb had been turned on, clearing away the muddle of confusion surrounding this plan and the darkest shadows of his depression. If everything was erased from history and if none of it had ever happened…

For some reason, he felt a smile form on his face, a smile that grew as he put words to the lightbulb. “Valerie,” he gasped. “She would still be alive, wouldn’t she?”

“If none of this ever happened,” Jonathan Archer stated clearly,” then yes.”

There was no more discussion and no more weighing of the risks.

“Mister Daniels,” Llewellyn said, suddenly becoming very animated,” are you prepared to undertake this course of action?”

“Absolutely,” Daniels agreed, his own mind made up.

“Then, with all due respect to the 22nd century, get me the hell out of here!”

* * * *

Stepping into the Ready Room of the Enterprise for what he hoped would be the last time and before history was returned to normal for him, Ewan did his best to appreciate the significance of his action. It was a dire shame that his time with this ship of legendary status, with this crew of heroes, was such a roller coaster of emotions and struggle. Taking the seat that was offered to him by Captain Archer, he realized that it was also a dire shame for another reason, a reason imparted to him by Daniels as the Temporal Agent made ready his departure.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Archer said.

“I don’t think I need to point out the bits that I want to forget,” Ewan agreed in part with him,” but there are some facets of this experience that have opened my eyes a little more. You, for example, Captain, history remembers you as a pioneer and a hero. However, when all of that is said and done, you’re still Human underneath it all.”

“Weren’t you supposed to keep quiet about my future?,” Archer joked.

“None of this will ever have been said… which is a shame.”

“Anything else you feel like spilling before Daniels makes his exit?”

Ewan took a deep contemplative breath. Ever since arriving in the 22nd century, he had, niggling away in the back of his mind, the knowledge that with a few well-placed warnings, he could save millions of lives. Soon the Xindi would attack Earth, killing seven million innocent lives. Soon after that event, the first rumblings of the Earth/Romulan War would be heard across the sector. With the option of changing history now removed from his hands, he came close to telling Archer everything.

He paused just before he opened his mouth.

“No,” he said instead. “Daniels could fail. I could end up stuck here. I… wouldn’t want to alter history. You see, Captain, for all of the hardships that you will endure, for all of the suffering bestowed upon Humanity, the end result is worth it. Peace doesn’t come automatically. Utopia isn’t built in a day. Even in my time, Starfleet is leading the fight in a battle against yet another alien aggressor… but the fight is worth it, if only to protect what Humanity builds in your time.”

“You say that you were a pacifist,” Archer noted. “Boy, Valerie must have done quite a number on you. While you won’t remember this either, you should tell her how you feel sooner rather than later, Captain. With jobs like ours, tomorrow is never a guarantee.”

“It’s the way things were,” Ewan agreed with him.

“And it’s the way things are.”

The comms panel on Archer’s desk chirped. The Captain of Enterprise pressed the button, knowing what the call would be about and sharing a ‘this is it’ look with his guest from the future. Together, they listened to the call from Main Engineering.

“Capt’n, Daniels is underway,” Trip told them. “He says that if we’re all still here after he’s gone, then he’s failed and things are kinda stuck like this.”

Jonathan Archer blinked as he listened.

Within the space of that blink, Ewan Llewellyn had vanished.

Out alongside Enterprise, the runabout Snohomish was nowhere to be seen.

In Sickbay, Valerie Archer’s corpse disappeared.

EPILOGUE

“... so why contact the government?”

Valerie Archer flexed her tired muscles, realizing that she had been sitting in the co-pilot’s chair of the Starfleet Danube-class runabout USS Snohomish, NCC-59876 for almost three solid hours.

Beside her, Ewan Llewellyn survived a mini-war with a powerful yawn in order to reply to her question. They were discussing, as everybody was these days, the Tah’Heen. Who had hired a Tah’Heen to attack and damage Starfleet vessels? What known Tah’Heen operatives were near the Santrag system? What was the motive behind such actions? Even now, the runabout shared by Fortitude’s Captain and First Officer was undertaking the long journey back to Earth to try and answer some of those questions, meeting with several intelligence experts on the way.

“Everybody knows that they make perfect spies,” Ewan answered, remembering the briefing that he had gotten from Erica Martinez the first time that the name Tah’Heen had been used in conjunction with the virus outbreak on Starbase 499 and aboard Fortitude. “While the actual government never endorses their actions, the simple matter is that their natural lack of fingerprints or residual DNA samples make them excellent agents of subterfuge.”

“The question stands, Ewan,” Valerie pressed him, reaching for her coffee cup and finding it empty with a disappointed frown. “Why contact the government?”

“If they can help us identify which Tah’Heen has been following us around and messing with our ship, it can narrow down the search. Bloody hell, we’ve got to start somewhere. Otherwise, we’re just pissing off into the wind with a whole bunch of theories.”

“You know, sometimes you’ve got a wonderful way with words,” Valerie said, laughing.

“Benefits of a classical education, m’dear,” Ewan retorted in his best overblown Welsh accent, smiling through the confusion that had clouded his days. Suddenly an alert on his console added to that confusion, making him lurch forward. “Oh… for a moment there, I was worried.”

“What is it?,” asked his traveling companion with vague concern.

“Minor chronometric fluctuations to starboard that are barely worth anything. I’m surprised that the sensors even picked them up. So, anyways, what were we talking about? Oh, yes... “

The End.