A group of cadets must find their way home in the year 2368.
(Tribute to Star Trek - The Next Generation)
(Tribute to Star Trek - The Next Generation)
THE CALYPSO
Five
by Lloyd A. Green
Suddenly, the captain’s chair wasn’t as comfortable as a moment ago. His foremost obligation was to lead his squad to safety, but making the wrong decision could damage his career. The last thing he needed was to look foolish. Hopefully, his choices would be the right ones. Cadet Nicholas Locarno chose his words carefully as he spoke aloud so that the station recorder would pick him up.
“Cadet’s Log, Stardate 45416.43. The Nova Squadron mission was to test the performance of the prototype short-range ship, classified as the Captain’s Yacht named Calypso. Once approved for service, this updated craft would replace the yachts presently used in all Galaxy Class Starships.”
“The ship’s crew and responsibilities are as follows: Myself, Cadet First Class Nicholas Locarno in the captain’s chair, Cadet Second Class Jean Hajar, in the navigator’s seat, Cadet Second Class Sito Jaxa, at the tactical and science console, Cadet Third Class Wesley Crusher in the pilot’s seat, and Cadet Third class Joshua Albert at the communications board.”
“Mission update: After lifting off from Starfleet in the Calypso, my team and I climbed to the upper thermosphere’s darkness. As per our flight plan, we performed exercises in space to test the craft’s performance and then began our descent. At the altitude of 248.5 miles, the ship’s instruments detected an unregistered spatial anomaly. Its swirling effects caused the sudden failure of all onboard ship systems, so avoiding the anomaly was not an option. Our oval-shaped craft moved through the spatial disturbance for an estimated nine seconds.
We are exiting the outer rim of the anomaly, the ship’s power has returned, and we are attempting to establish our location. After making the necessary course corrections, we will return to the Academy in San Francisco. End log entry.”
Nicholas exhaled slowly. What he didn’t mention was that their being off course was an understatement. Fortunately, if anyone could get them back on the right path with the least amount of embarrassment, Jean could. Besides, her pleasant but strong personality could charm a snake. He stared forward to where she sat at the navigational panel just right of the main viewing screen.
“Any sign of it yet, Jean?”
“No, Nick.” As she replied, her fingers continued to dance across the panel. “That sudden spatial disturbance is no longer showing up. The onboard computers of this vessel can read spatial anomalies in only a limited capacity. Doing my best.”
“Understood,” Nicholas said. “Keep trying.”
Nicholas’ mind spun on ways to get them out of this situation. He turned his attention to Jean’s left, where Wesley sat at the pilot’s helm, and noticed how the large view screen dwarfed both cadets. It easily covered most of the curved forward wall of the ship.
Regardless of the 33-foot length by 60-foot width of the ship, the circular-shaped flight deck within had a diameter of only 16 feet. This bridge held the two cadets driving the ship, nine feet in front of the captain’s seat. The other two remaining cadets were a few feet behind him, at their colorful button-less and switch-less consoles. Each station with its redundant back-up systems controlled the power, which was the captain’s yacht.
Nicholas suddenly had an idea and directed his attention to his pilot.
“Wesley, let’s remain stationary for the time being and then place all non-essential parts of the ship in diagnostic mode.”
“Coming to a full stop at a 30-mile altitude,” Wesley quickly replied then turned his seat to face Nicholas.
“Nick, do you think it’s wise to go to diagnostic mode?”
Nicholas loosened his hands from the arms of his chair and folded them in his lap. Wesley was the best pilot at the Academy, with the added experience of maneuvering ships as large as the Enterprise-D, but sometimes he missed the bigger picture. Nicholas decided it was best not to single him out directly.
“Well, team, you probably are all asking this question. Even though we’re obviously off course, luck might still be on our side. Doing a level-one check of onboard systems might not be standard, but we could use this function to gain time to figure out our situation without the usual data recording. In other words, there might still be a way to avoid a reprimand from Admiral Brand back at Starfleet Academy. Make sense?”
From behind Nicholas, a response came from Joshua.
“I’m in favor of anything that will safely get us back home and not interfere with the ski trip that Wesley and I have scheduled next week.”
Nicholas watched as Wesley lightly smiled in Joshua’s direction. Wesley shook his head and turned to continue monitoring his panel.
Joshua was a good cadet, but a few more years of maturity would make him the total package, Nicholas thought to himself. If nothing else, he as a follower was a given. What was most important was to keep the team’s reputation shining. This earned privilege was beginning to irritate him. The captain’s yacht was nothing more than a transporter substitute from the starship to the planet surface. He must fix these complications during this simple test as quickly as possible.
“Nick, we’ve got a problem!” Jean blurted out.
The excited shout had come from Jean, which sent a chill up Nicholas’ back. Before he could tell her to calm down, her tone lowered, and she continued her report.
“There’s a total of eight ships flanking us, four on either side.”
“Yellow alert,” Nicholas stated loudly. The ship-wide noise vibrated through his seat. Where did they come from so suddenly? Jonathan thought. Could this be a test of some kind from Admiral Brand?
“Evasive maneuver beta-four.” Jonathan stated aloud.
Almost instantaneously, Wesley flipped the disc-shaped yacht three times, quickly descended 25 miles, and came to an abrupt stop from their original location without faltering.
“Status and location of the other ships,” Nicholas shouted in Jean’s direction.
“At almost the same instant we began our maneuvers, each ship did the same,” she responded, sounding a bit frantic. “I’d swear that we were connected.”
“She’s right,” Wesley suddenly chimed in. “They’ve matched us like mirror images.”
“This can’t be right,” exclaimed Sito as she stared at her science console. “All eight ships have the same signatures as we do. If I can trust these instruments, each one of those ships is a replica of ours. And Nicholas…there are five humanoid life signs aboard each one.”
All four cadets turned to stare at Nicholas. He stood from his chair and purposely moved to his left so all could see his face. After giving a minor smile, Nicholas looked over his right shoulder to address Joshua at the communications console. “Open a channel to the nearest vessel on our starboard.”
Nicholas picked up on the slight unsteadiness of Joshua’s hand as he reached to make the ship-to-ship link. Joshua nodded at Nicholas after he made the connection.
“This is Cadet First Class Nicholas Locarno of the Mark 1 Captain’s Yacht Calypso. Please identify yourself.” Before Nicholas could finish his statement, eight video displays along with an echo of his exact words barked back at him, lagging by only microseconds. The lagged message sounded seven more times until there was finally silence. Suddenly, the eight video displays melted into a single image. The leader of the contacted ship staring back at him on the forward monitor was Nicholas.
“Joshua,” Nicholas stated, feeling confused. “Break communication.”
Nicholas walked to the rear of the flight deck and stood near Sito.
“What I just saw, did that come from that other ship, or was it a communication malfunction?”
It was apparent to everyone that Nicholas should direct this question toward Joshua at the communications panel, but instead, he was directly facing Sito.
Sito paused before responding. As standard with most Bajorans, she took her science responsibilities as seriously as she did her religion, regardless of the crisis. Her answers were always careful and precise.
“My hypothesis for our present situation is two-fold, Nick. A Kemocite-plasma explosion in space somehow caused the spatial anomaly. As we descended toward Earth through the anomaly, it altered our position in space and time. As the timeline attempted to correct itself, a new Calypso appeared a micro-second behind us. This disruption occurred to each new Calypso that came out of that cloud a total of eight times. I don’t have an answer for why it stopped after eight. Our conversations are occurring on the bridge of each of the other ships, with a slight lag.
These repeat conversations are what we are hearing.”
“You said your hypothesis had a second part?” asked Nicholas.
“I know the answer to that,” said Joshua, interrupting abruptly.
Nicholas glanced at Joshua and then back to Sito. Instead of continuing her theory, Sito gave a quick nod, indicating that it was okay for Joshua to continue.
“Go ahead, Josh,” Nicholas stated flatly.
“Scans of the immediate and not-so-local area don’t indicate Starfleet Command or the existence of any similar institutions from our year of 2368. Also, the only interstellar crafts are our group of nine. After a check of local transmissions, we appear to be in the late twentieth century, Stardate -375521.57. But since this period was before the recording of stardates, I should say June 24, 1947.
“Are you certain of this?” Nicholas asked.
“He’s right,” Sito stated. “There’s no doubt. And as a matter of historical fact, this date is when the first sightings of unidentified flying objects began. Witnesses called them flying discs or flying saucers. According to the database, there were numerous sightings of ships, similar to our oval-shaped style craft. Even the multiple ships, flying in a v-formation, matches this era’s recorded accounts.”
“Drop yellow alert,” Nicholas stated as he plopped into his chair. “Jean, what’s our present position?”
“We’re departing the western side of the state of Idaho and approaching the eastern border of the state of Washington. We’ll soon be passing between the landmarks, Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams. Our altitude is 10,000 feet, and our present groundspeed is 1257 mph.”
“Nicholas,” Wesley said abruptly. “I’m picking up two aerial crafts. One’s a four-engine passenger propeller-driven airplane called a DC-4, which is about 20 miles north of our location. But the single-engine ship identified as a Call Air airplane is closer. That craft’s approach is eastward at a velocity of 105 miles per hour.
“I imagine it’s moving too slow to be hostile?” Nicholas asked sarcastically.
“Affirmative,” Jean replied. “No weapon signatures of any kind. The craft is 30 miles ahead. His ship’s heading is shifting a few degrees. Now it’s moving in our direction.”
“Wes, get us out of here toward the ceiling.”
Within the cabin, the squad could hardly feel the smooth raise to the clouds, and then the ship leveled off.
“All of the alternate yachts are moving in unison with us,” said Wesley.
“Do you think there’s a chance the guy flying that thing didn’t see us?” Nicholas asked.
“Not likely,” Jean replied. “He’s probably seeing the group of us flying together. According to my last scans, his heading is also shifting by a few degrees. He’s moving in our direction. And if you’re interested, he’s a male, about 35 years old with thick brown hair.”
“How would your instruments be able to tell you that?” Nicholas asked.
“Believe it or not, when he lowered his window, probably to get a better look at us, I got a clear picture of him.”
“We need to move out of this area before we’re seen by anyone else,” Jonathan stated. “We’ve broken too many prime directive rules already.”
Before he could say another word, Jean shouted. “The spatial anomaly has been located 2,119.5 miles to the west of our location!”
“Take us there, full impulse power, or should I say, take all of us there.”
“On our way,” Wesley stated, “Traveling just under Mach 20. It’ll take us about 10 minutes to get there. Wait. Scratch that estimate. Residential effects of the anomaly are carrying our ship forward in time. The anomaly is appearing three miles off the starboard bow, at 4,000 feet altitude. We’ll have to slow to less than Mach 2, so we don’t overshoot it.”
Wesley veered the yacht into the distortion, but the murky effect began to dissipate before the ships were halfway through.
“The waves of time are receding,” Sito stated. “We’ve moved forward through time, but only by a few days.
“So, when are we?” Nicholas asked anxiously.
“July 2, 1947, and a second anomaly is forming just over 1,349 miles south of our present location. That places it between Albuquerque and Roswell, New Mexico.”
“Get us there, Wesley. Best speed.”
“Excuse me, Nick,” Jean interrupted. “As we cross the country, sensors have been picking up several airplanes trying to follow us, and historical reports state there were hundreds of watchers at ground level. The stories range from circular objects moving at great speeds to the military, stating they were optical illusions or jet engine blasts. And since we’ve been traveling for days, that amounts to quite an audience.”
“At this point, it doesn’t matter,” Nicholas replied. “It seems that we had something to do with those long-ago sightings.”
“That rip in the sky is just ahead,” Wesley stated. “It seems like we’re going to make it this time.”
Rip in the sky? Nicholas thought. Was Wesley making a joke about the anomaly? Humorous remarks were never Wesley’s style. It was apparent that even Wes could be shook up.
“Take us dead center to give us space,” Nicholas stated. “Let’s ensure that our sister ships have the clearance they need so we can all move through together.”
As the craft passed the rim of the anomaly, proximity alarms sounded on Jean’s board.
“My scans are picking up a smaller ship entering from the opposite side, registering as a Ferengi shuttle vessel.”
The ship passed over the yacht and sped earthbound.
“It’s going down near Roswell,” Jean continued. “I’m detecting minor wreckage. Should we assist?”
“Negative,” Nicholas replied without hesitation. “We have no idea what they’re doing here. For all we know, they might be the ones that caused the initial spatial distortion. If we miss this opportunity to leave, I’m not sure we’ll ever get back to our own time. Plot a course and get us home. We’ll let Admiral Brand know about the Ferengi ship when we hopefully get back to Starfleet.”
Silence bounced off the cabin walls as the entire crew watched the view screen in cold anticipation. Nicholas was bathed in sweat as the ship cleared the distortion. Anticipating the worst, he asked the obvious question.
“What’s our status?”
“Presently, it’s Stardate 45416.43,” replied Sito. “It’s been one hour since we left the Academy even though we’ve been away for more than two. We’re about five minutes away from San Francisco, and lastly, we’ve lost our sister ships.”
Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief. He finally noticed the familiar stars winking back at him. “I couldn’t be more proud of you all. Let’s bring this ship home.”
“Nick,” Joshua blurted out. “We’re being hailed. Superintendent Brand is asking how we were able to complete the mission so early. Should I begin sending her an update of what happened to us?”
A minor chuckle rang throughout the cabin. Nicholas stood up and gripped Joshua’s shoulder tighter than he should have.
“You should live so long, Josh,” Nicholas finally responded. “I’ll handle the debriefing.”
The bright glare of sunlight bathed the Calypso’s shiny surfaces as it descended in the direction of San Francisco toward the landing area of the Academy.
“Cadet’s Log, Stardate 45416.43. The Nova Squadron mission was to test the performance of the prototype short-range ship, classified as the Captain’s Yacht named Calypso. Once approved for service, this updated craft would replace the yachts presently used in all Galaxy Class Starships.”
“The ship’s crew and responsibilities are as follows: Myself, Cadet First Class Nicholas Locarno in the captain’s chair, Cadet Second Class Jean Hajar, in the navigator’s seat, Cadet Second Class Sito Jaxa, at the tactical and science console, Cadet Third Class Wesley Crusher in the pilot’s seat, and Cadet Third class Joshua Albert at the communications board.”
“Mission update: After lifting off from Starfleet in the Calypso, my team and I climbed to the upper thermosphere’s darkness. As per our flight plan, we performed exercises in space to test the craft’s performance and then began our descent. At the altitude of 248.5 miles, the ship’s instruments detected an unregistered spatial anomaly. Its swirling effects caused the sudden failure of all onboard ship systems, so avoiding the anomaly was not an option. Our oval-shaped craft moved through the spatial disturbance for an estimated nine seconds.
We are exiting the outer rim of the anomaly, the ship’s power has returned, and we are attempting to establish our location. After making the necessary course corrections, we will return to the Academy in San Francisco. End log entry.”
Nicholas exhaled slowly. What he didn’t mention was that their being off course was an understatement. Fortunately, if anyone could get them back on the right path with the least amount of embarrassment, Jean could. Besides, her pleasant but strong personality could charm a snake. He stared forward to where she sat at the navigational panel just right of the main viewing screen.
“Any sign of it yet, Jean?”
“No, Nick.” As she replied, her fingers continued to dance across the panel. “That sudden spatial disturbance is no longer showing up. The onboard computers of this vessel can read spatial anomalies in only a limited capacity. Doing my best.”
“Understood,” Nicholas said. “Keep trying.”
Nicholas’ mind spun on ways to get them out of this situation. He turned his attention to Jean’s left, where Wesley sat at the pilot’s helm, and noticed how the large view screen dwarfed both cadets. It easily covered most of the curved forward wall of the ship.
Regardless of the 33-foot length by 60-foot width of the ship, the circular-shaped flight deck within had a diameter of only 16 feet. This bridge held the two cadets driving the ship, nine feet in front of the captain’s seat. The other two remaining cadets were a few feet behind him, at their colorful button-less and switch-less consoles. Each station with its redundant back-up systems controlled the power, which was the captain’s yacht.
Nicholas suddenly had an idea and directed his attention to his pilot.
“Wesley, let’s remain stationary for the time being and then place all non-essential parts of the ship in diagnostic mode.”
“Coming to a full stop at a 30-mile altitude,” Wesley quickly replied then turned his seat to face Nicholas.
“Nick, do you think it’s wise to go to diagnostic mode?”
Nicholas loosened his hands from the arms of his chair and folded them in his lap. Wesley was the best pilot at the Academy, with the added experience of maneuvering ships as large as the Enterprise-D, but sometimes he missed the bigger picture. Nicholas decided it was best not to single him out directly.
“Well, team, you probably are all asking this question. Even though we’re obviously off course, luck might still be on our side. Doing a level-one check of onboard systems might not be standard, but we could use this function to gain time to figure out our situation without the usual data recording. In other words, there might still be a way to avoid a reprimand from Admiral Brand back at Starfleet Academy. Make sense?”
From behind Nicholas, a response came from Joshua.
“I’m in favor of anything that will safely get us back home and not interfere with the ski trip that Wesley and I have scheduled next week.”
Nicholas watched as Wesley lightly smiled in Joshua’s direction. Wesley shook his head and turned to continue monitoring his panel.
Joshua was a good cadet, but a few more years of maturity would make him the total package, Nicholas thought to himself. If nothing else, he as a follower was a given. What was most important was to keep the team’s reputation shining. This earned privilege was beginning to irritate him. The captain’s yacht was nothing more than a transporter substitute from the starship to the planet surface. He must fix these complications during this simple test as quickly as possible.
“Nick, we’ve got a problem!” Jean blurted out.
The excited shout had come from Jean, which sent a chill up Nicholas’ back. Before he could tell her to calm down, her tone lowered, and she continued her report.
“There’s a total of eight ships flanking us, four on either side.”
“Yellow alert,” Nicholas stated loudly. The ship-wide noise vibrated through his seat. Where did they come from so suddenly? Jonathan thought. Could this be a test of some kind from Admiral Brand?
“Evasive maneuver beta-four.” Jonathan stated aloud.
Almost instantaneously, Wesley flipped the disc-shaped yacht three times, quickly descended 25 miles, and came to an abrupt stop from their original location without faltering.
“Status and location of the other ships,” Nicholas shouted in Jean’s direction.
“At almost the same instant we began our maneuvers, each ship did the same,” she responded, sounding a bit frantic. “I’d swear that we were connected.”
“She’s right,” Wesley suddenly chimed in. “They’ve matched us like mirror images.”
“This can’t be right,” exclaimed Sito as she stared at her science console. “All eight ships have the same signatures as we do. If I can trust these instruments, each one of those ships is a replica of ours. And Nicholas…there are five humanoid life signs aboard each one.”
All four cadets turned to stare at Nicholas. He stood from his chair and purposely moved to his left so all could see his face. After giving a minor smile, Nicholas looked over his right shoulder to address Joshua at the communications console. “Open a channel to the nearest vessel on our starboard.”
Nicholas picked up on the slight unsteadiness of Joshua’s hand as he reached to make the ship-to-ship link. Joshua nodded at Nicholas after he made the connection.
“This is Cadet First Class Nicholas Locarno of the Mark 1 Captain’s Yacht Calypso. Please identify yourself.” Before Nicholas could finish his statement, eight video displays along with an echo of his exact words barked back at him, lagging by only microseconds. The lagged message sounded seven more times until there was finally silence. Suddenly, the eight video displays melted into a single image. The leader of the contacted ship staring back at him on the forward monitor was Nicholas.
“Joshua,” Nicholas stated, feeling confused. “Break communication.”
Nicholas walked to the rear of the flight deck and stood near Sito.
“What I just saw, did that come from that other ship, or was it a communication malfunction?”
It was apparent to everyone that Nicholas should direct this question toward Joshua at the communications panel, but instead, he was directly facing Sito.
Sito paused before responding. As standard with most Bajorans, she took her science responsibilities as seriously as she did her religion, regardless of the crisis. Her answers were always careful and precise.
“My hypothesis for our present situation is two-fold, Nick. A Kemocite-plasma explosion in space somehow caused the spatial anomaly. As we descended toward Earth through the anomaly, it altered our position in space and time. As the timeline attempted to correct itself, a new Calypso appeared a micro-second behind us. This disruption occurred to each new Calypso that came out of that cloud a total of eight times. I don’t have an answer for why it stopped after eight. Our conversations are occurring on the bridge of each of the other ships, with a slight lag.
These repeat conversations are what we are hearing.”
“You said your hypothesis had a second part?” asked Nicholas.
“I know the answer to that,” said Joshua, interrupting abruptly.
Nicholas glanced at Joshua and then back to Sito. Instead of continuing her theory, Sito gave a quick nod, indicating that it was okay for Joshua to continue.
“Go ahead, Josh,” Nicholas stated flatly.
“Scans of the immediate and not-so-local area don’t indicate Starfleet Command or the existence of any similar institutions from our year of 2368. Also, the only interstellar crafts are our group of nine. After a check of local transmissions, we appear to be in the late twentieth century, Stardate -375521.57. But since this period was before the recording of stardates, I should say June 24, 1947.
“Are you certain of this?” Nicholas asked.
“He’s right,” Sito stated. “There’s no doubt. And as a matter of historical fact, this date is when the first sightings of unidentified flying objects began. Witnesses called them flying discs or flying saucers. According to the database, there were numerous sightings of ships, similar to our oval-shaped style craft. Even the multiple ships, flying in a v-formation, matches this era’s recorded accounts.”
“Drop yellow alert,” Nicholas stated as he plopped into his chair. “Jean, what’s our present position?”
“We’re departing the western side of the state of Idaho and approaching the eastern border of the state of Washington. We’ll soon be passing between the landmarks, Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams. Our altitude is 10,000 feet, and our present groundspeed is 1257 mph.”
“Nicholas,” Wesley said abruptly. “I’m picking up two aerial crafts. One’s a four-engine passenger propeller-driven airplane called a DC-4, which is about 20 miles north of our location. But the single-engine ship identified as a Call Air airplane is closer. That craft’s approach is eastward at a velocity of 105 miles per hour.
“I imagine it’s moving too slow to be hostile?” Nicholas asked sarcastically.
“Affirmative,” Jean replied. “No weapon signatures of any kind. The craft is 30 miles ahead. His ship’s heading is shifting a few degrees. Now it’s moving in our direction.”
“Wes, get us out of here toward the ceiling.”
Within the cabin, the squad could hardly feel the smooth raise to the clouds, and then the ship leveled off.
“All of the alternate yachts are moving in unison with us,” said Wesley.
“Do you think there’s a chance the guy flying that thing didn’t see us?” Nicholas asked.
“Not likely,” Jean replied. “He’s probably seeing the group of us flying together. According to my last scans, his heading is also shifting by a few degrees. He’s moving in our direction. And if you’re interested, he’s a male, about 35 years old with thick brown hair.”
“How would your instruments be able to tell you that?” Nicholas asked.
“Believe it or not, when he lowered his window, probably to get a better look at us, I got a clear picture of him.”
“We need to move out of this area before we’re seen by anyone else,” Jonathan stated. “We’ve broken too many prime directive rules already.”
Before he could say another word, Jean shouted. “The spatial anomaly has been located 2,119.5 miles to the west of our location!”
“Take us there, full impulse power, or should I say, take all of us there.”
“On our way,” Wesley stated, “Traveling just under Mach 20. It’ll take us about 10 minutes to get there. Wait. Scratch that estimate. Residential effects of the anomaly are carrying our ship forward in time. The anomaly is appearing three miles off the starboard bow, at 4,000 feet altitude. We’ll have to slow to less than Mach 2, so we don’t overshoot it.”
Wesley veered the yacht into the distortion, but the murky effect began to dissipate before the ships were halfway through.
“The waves of time are receding,” Sito stated. “We’ve moved forward through time, but only by a few days.
“So, when are we?” Nicholas asked anxiously.
“July 2, 1947, and a second anomaly is forming just over 1,349 miles south of our present location. That places it between Albuquerque and Roswell, New Mexico.”
“Get us there, Wesley. Best speed.”
“Excuse me, Nick,” Jean interrupted. “As we cross the country, sensors have been picking up several airplanes trying to follow us, and historical reports state there were hundreds of watchers at ground level. The stories range from circular objects moving at great speeds to the military, stating they were optical illusions or jet engine blasts. And since we’ve been traveling for days, that amounts to quite an audience.”
“At this point, it doesn’t matter,” Nicholas replied. “It seems that we had something to do with those long-ago sightings.”
“That rip in the sky is just ahead,” Wesley stated. “It seems like we’re going to make it this time.”
Rip in the sky? Nicholas thought. Was Wesley making a joke about the anomaly? Humorous remarks were never Wesley’s style. It was apparent that even Wes could be shook up.
“Take us dead center to give us space,” Nicholas stated. “Let’s ensure that our sister ships have the clearance they need so we can all move through together.”
As the craft passed the rim of the anomaly, proximity alarms sounded on Jean’s board.
“My scans are picking up a smaller ship entering from the opposite side, registering as a Ferengi shuttle vessel.”
The ship passed over the yacht and sped earthbound.
“It’s going down near Roswell,” Jean continued. “I’m detecting minor wreckage. Should we assist?”
“Negative,” Nicholas replied without hesitation. “We have no idea what they’re doing here. For all we know, they might be the ones that caused the initial spatial distortion. If we miss this opportunity to leave, I’m not sure we’ll ever get back to our own time. Plot a course and get us home. We’ll let Admiral Brand know about the Ferengi ship when we hopefully get back to Starfleet.”
Silence bounced off the cabin walls as the entire crew watched the view screen in cold anticipation. Nicholas was bathed in sweat as the ship cleared the distortion. Anticipating the worst, he asked the obvious question.
“What’s our status?”
“Presently, it’s Stardate 45416.43,” replied Sito. “It’s been one hour since we left the Academy even though we’ve been away for more than two. We’re about five minutes away from San Francisco, and lastly, we’ve lost our sister ships.”
Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief. He finally noticed the familiar stars winking back at him. “I couldn’t be more proud of you all. Let’s bring this ship home.”
“Nick,” Joshua blurted out. “We’re being hailed. Superintendent Brand is asking how we were able to complete the mission so early. Should I begin sending her an update of what happened to us?”
A minor chuckle rang throughout the cabin. Nicholas stood up and gripped Joshua’s shoulder tighter than he should have.
“You should live so long, Josh,” Nicholas finally responded. “I’ll handle the debriefing.”
The bright glare of sunlight bathed the Calypso’s shiny surfaces as it descended in the direction of San Francisco toward the landing area of the Academy.
Story was inspired by characters from Star Trek - The Next Generation - First Duty (Season 5, Episode 19)
and Star Trek - Deep Space Nine - Little Green Men (Season 4, Episode 8)
and Star Trek - Deep Space Nine - Little Green Men (Season 4, Episode 8)
The June 1947 sightings were real.
Learn the connection used for The Calypso Five:
Learn the connection used for The Calypso Five: