Reverse Course, Reversed

My name is Todd.

I created a play-by-email, Star Trek-based roleplaying game simulation called U.F.S. Arcadia NX-A1.  It was born from my love of Star Trek, and a desire to push the boundaries past anything I've seen on the multitudes of Trek sims I've been on (and yes, it has been multitudes).

I've often wondered – what would it be like, were the Star Trek universe real?  My instinctive reaction: 'Hey, that would be awesome.'  Lord knows, twenty years ago in my teens, I desperately wanted it to be.  I thought it would have been just the coolest thing to jump in a starship and warp speed across the stars.  I'm older now... seasoned.  Thus in all honesty, I don't truly think it would be.  It would be a pretty scary place if we had to face up to the likes of the Borg or the Dominion.  Imagine if you were one of the doomed "red shirts" serving under Kirk, your only real "goal" in life to end up fodder for aliens' wanton destructive tendencies... or being one of countless individuals assimilated by the Borg... or your future depended on one right or wrong decision at a critical moment, threatened by a super-evolved probe returned to Earth....

And, I've wondered what it would be like if the Arcadia, and its interpretation of the Star Trek mythos, turned out to be real.  That would be scary too.

Imagine, then, my reaction when I learned... it is.

Not long ago I wrote a post wherein my character, Captain Stephen Boone April, "met" me in a near-death experience.  It was a work of fiction – nothing, compared to being slapped in the face with a runabout in your driveway and your own character standing at your back door, in the flesh.

And that's nothing compared to finding out you hold the fate of a universe in your hands.  God?  Gatekeeper?  Q?  Hah.  Q's got nothing on me.  Me.  Todd the god, at the risk of sounding supercilious.  Practically omnipotent (practically), in the Arcadian universe.  Good thing I'm not the type to let it go to my head.

Because, thanks to April, I found the ultimate fate of this rests on me.  Arcadia doesn't go home until I say it does, and April wants me to say it, so they can.

Ok, then.  Enough of the ego trip, enough of the time-trip to a reality that wasn't.  This crew's ready to go back to a world they can understand, a world where writers can live vicariously through their characters instead of meeting their characters face to face.  We've got new people waiting to jump in.  Time to wrap it up.

I'm sitting at my computer, writing a post.  Though this keyboard is my "pen", this pen is still mightier than any sword.  I type words and they become events in the universe next door, that world of our imaginations.  What I say, here, goes, there... now.  Time to exercise the "divine influence".

April stood in the shuttlebay, watching the shuttlecraft Akasha settle to the deck under Jenna's piloting.  He had just gotten word from the bridge: Jallez was on his way, in the Arrow.  Within minutes they would be able to depart, if the Gatekeeper – if Todd kept his word.  April hadn't left the flight deck since returning with the Synergy.  For a long time, he wasn't really sure how long, he just stood there, watching Earth through the forcefield.  It was a strange new world to him in more than one sense.  New to the Earth they knew on this ship: On this Earth, he and everything, everyone he knew and didn't know in his own world, were works of fiction.  The esteemed Jean-Luc Picard was an actor named Patrick Stewart... events of the last few centuries had been catalogued for the most part in plays recorded for broadcast viewing by the masses, labeled under those words Zefram Cochrane once coined, "Star Trek"... and he, April, was not even that: just a figment of someone's imagination, modeled on an actor named Mel Gibson.  Did Mel Gibson exist in the history of his own Earth?  Did Patrick Stewart, or William Shatner, or Eugene Wesley Roddenberry?  Did Todd, his creator?  Did their movies and other creative works exist in the datafiles from the 20th & 21st centuries?  Was Ricardo Montalban a third-world dictator responsible for the Eugenics Wars?  Did their descendants live in the 24th century?  How different would the history of this Earth be in the next four hundred years and beyond, compared to that of "Star Trek Earth"?

All good questions.  Questions to which he had no ready answers.  And, if he understood correctly, he might never know.  Myriad complications arose from knowledge of this Earth – complications which could threaten the entire space-time continuum of his universe, the Star Trek universe (imagine if someone got that knowledge and came here, and convinced someone to write an overwhelming invasion of the Federation... and in cases, some have).  Because of that, the Gatekeeper claimed once they returned to their own quantum state, reality, whatever, their memory of this episode would vanish.  It would be as if it never took place.  (April wasn't sure how he knew this... perhaps it was Todd simply saying he knew – just like April knew other little things, things he shouldn't have known but did (like that time Wayne scrutinized the bridge for surveillance devices, believing April had planted them there)... things that always got others trying to figure out how he knew.)  April had no problem with forgetting.  He had been made to forget many things during his incarceration on Vor'ok Nir, only some of which he was now starting to recall.

Yet, part of him wanted to remember.  The voyages of the starship Arcadia deserved to be remembered, each and every one.  This ship and its crew... They mattered.  His friends, the people he loved, the places they had been, the wonders they had seen... They deserved that.  He took some comfort knowing even if this one trek ended up never happening, it would be remembered on that Earth below.  It would be stored in a server buffer, part of something called "Yahoo", waiting for others to read and acknowledge, for so long as the internet existed... or on the hard drives of those computers hooked to the internet which received it.  The internet would not last forever, of course.  All things come to an end.  Then, it would merely be a bygone little segment of human history, probably not making it into the history books... but still nothing could ever take away the fact that it happened.  It might be forgotten, but it happened.

Jenna emerging from the Akasha drew his attention to the moment.  Something swelled in April at sight of her, and he felt an urge to smile.  She strode down the ramp with a slight sway, a hypnotic walk which probably wasn't intentional, but there nonetheless.  She was a panther in vampire clothing.  A doctor, yes, but she had been engineered a warrior, a huntress, a predator... a killer.  April wondered if Dr. Horatio Stoddard had intended for her to be so damn sexy while doing it.  With a flash of green eyes and a silky grin she wrapped her arms around him, planting a quick kiss on the lips.

"Waiting for me?  How sweet.  Where's the roses?"

April returned the grin with a slight shrug.  "Sergeant Walker didn't give you roses when you kissed HIM, did he?"  His gray eyes widened slightly, hard stare zeroing in on her.

Perhaps it was surprise... how did he know?... or the way he looked at her, conjuring a memory of his mirror counterpart who tortured her... but Jenna's mouth fell slightly and she stepped back.  Words seemed poised to issue forth, but didn't as April's attention, and hers, was drawn to the sound of a new craft entering the hangar: the Arrow.  April smiled, then, in spite of himself: Jallez designed one badass-looking ship, a true pleasure to set eyes on.  (He briefly wondered how he acquired the term 'badass'.)

Duty took center stage, then.  Everyone was back on this ship who was supposed to be.  April raised his hand to his com-badge, about to call the Bridge, hesitated... thinking of something else that had been on his mind... tapped it anyway and said, "April to Carter Drake.  Mr. Drake... if this is your world... this is your chance to stay here, and be home again."  He awaited Drake's response.  [tag Drake]

As Jallez descended from the Arrow, giving April a friendly smile, April took private stock of the moment.  Of all of the original main staff on the Arc, only they three remained – April, Starr & Jallez.  [Well, Tabatha Brisk was too, but she's an NPC.  This is reality meets fiction, don't forget.]  He returned a hopeful smile to his Chief Engineer... his friend, who had been like a brother to him, and once his mentor... and draped an arm around his shoulders, eliciting a mild reaction from the Vulcan.  Jallez chuckled, gracefully not questioning the sudden amity.  As they walked, April tapped his com again and said, "Bridge... take us out of this system, full impulse – and step on it."

"Captain, begging your pardon," Wayne said over the com, "but we don't have full warp or slipstream capacity yet."

"I understand that.  Just pick a heading and take the scenic route.  I'll explain shortly.  April out."

The former captain of the Arcadia... the captain who succeeded April, Tristan Skye... had his quarters on deck 12.  April didn't get why until he remembered from Skye's file that the Brit had been an engineer, and felt more "at home" near Engineering with the rhythmic thromb of engines pumping through the walls.

April stood with his arms folded, gazing down on Skye, who sat on the edge of his small bed, hands folded in his lap.  April had just informed him of his intent to return command of Arcadia to him.  April was confident Starfleet Command would back his decision.

Skye gazed up at April and a long beat stretched between them.

Skye was a temp commander, assigned to this vessel for a limited time – until they found April, or put up a new captain to take over, perhaps someone promoted from the crew.  Currently only Andrew Wayne was close enough to be considered for such a step.  Either way, he wasn't meant to be here indefinitely, and didn't want to be.  He had other goals, and they required him to stay on the move, going from ship to ship, wherever a commanding officer was temporarily needed.

He didn't want to remain in command of Arcadia.  He had just informed April of this, in return.

And now they regarded each other in stony silence.

Finally April broke it: "I guess Arcadia will get another new CO.  Someone who doesn't know this ship or crew as well as we do."

"Malarky," Skye said.  "We both know bloody well you're the rightful captain of this ship.  I've spoken to half the crew, and half the crew thinks you wrote the book here.  I'm hard-pressed to disagree, mate.  You'd not be doing this ship a favor by stepping down, no matter what your personal feelings."

April sighed.  "You're wrong, Skye.  I've been to both ends of the spectrum.  Now I'm..."  He unfolded his arms, motioned with his hands.  "...somewhere in-between.  Jallez told me I'm more than what my recent life made me, and he's right.  But I'm not the man I used to be.  I've come to treasure the love of a woman over my love for a ship, and—"

Skye stood up.  "You believe I love this ship?  Think again, chap.  I came here because I was ordered to – because it was my duty.  If Starfleet tells me to stay, then I have no choice in the matter unless I resign, which I'm not prepared to do.  I have my duty, and I do my job.  That's all anyone has a right to expect.  You don't have to love this ship... but I think you have a duty to it, and you know it and just can't admit it.  So you're not the same.  Who is?  I realize what the Klingons and that Crowley bloke did to you, how that can change a man—"

"Skye," April interrupted, "Don't presume to tell me what you think you know – you know nothing."

Skye's blue eyes iced hard.  "Then why're ye here, mate?"

April said nothing.  Skye continued: "You could have just left it as is.  Taken us back to Starfleet and walked off the ship without informing me or anyone of a thing.  But you didn't.  You cared enough to come down here and do it the right way.  That tells me the renowned Captain April I've heard so much about is still in there, somewhere.  Captain Picard belonged to the Borg once, and they brought him back.  Tell me you're more stubborn than that... because if you do, chap, then ye're just being stubborn, that's all, and plain refusin' to see."

"You say that because you want to leave."

Skye nodded.  "Aye, I do.  I know my place, Stephen April.  Captain Tristan Skye belongs on the move.  We both do... but you belong on this ship, moving with it, and I don't.  That's the difference."  He stepped close to April, one hard commander's gaze against another.  "Don't tell me you don't hear what I speak, deep down.  Don't dishonor yourself like that.  Don't dishonor this crew.  They deserve better."

April blinked at the reiteration of his thoughts earlier; his jaw twitched.  Was this something that had been written?  How would the story end?  Only time would tell.

After another long beat, he said, "I'll think about it," spun on his heel and walked out.

In the corridor, he stopped...

And so did everyone else.  Crew-members walking the halls had frozen in mid-step, like a video playback on pause.  Like on the Earth they'd just left.  April became aware of the deafening silence, then a feeling like electricity in the air.  Slowly he turned and found Skye standing there, having just emerged from his quarters himself.

Except Skye had a faint shimmer around him, and his eyes were white.

"I thought I would use the body of Captain Skye one last time," the Gatekeeper said, in a voice partly Skye's, yet reminiscent of Joseph Carton, the young man who served as Diplomatic Officer in weeks past; it reverberated with a chorus of other voices mixed in.  "I am the Gatekeeper.  It is time to seal this rift in reality.  Are you ready, Captain April?"

"To go home?  We've been ready," April replied.

Time had resumed to normal, with no one other than April aware it had stopped.  One moment the bridge crew had been looking upon the oncoming face of Jupiter... then suddenly, they were on reverse course, and in seconds sailed in over Earth.  Wayne sat in the command chair, stymied at the sudden shift – no one even felt it.

Subspace communications had suddenly erupted like a hundred volcanoes at once, filled with Starfleet chatter anticipating an invasion, or another mysterious temporal anomaly; a fleet had massed at Sector 001 for the likelihood of a showdown.  Into the sea of voices came April's, nearly drowned out until McTiese amplified it.  April instructed Wayne to proceed with docking, and promised to answer all the first officer's questions later.  Wayne ordered a drop in velocity and set heading for Starbase One, returning to dock.

April ended his com-versation with Wayne with an explicit order full of ominous warning: No one was to speak of this to anyone who had not experienced it.  New crew arrivals, Starfleet brass... no one.  There were to be no official reports – at least, not complete reports.  They might have remembered it, but had to pretend otherwise.  Why?  The aforementioned danger: If someone gained that knowledge, and used it to reopen the interdimensional barrier... everything they knew might never exist.

Because the answer to the question, would they remember it?, was readily apparent: they did.  Of course.  Eve Ordalani's situation would not have been possible had the preceding events not occurred, and that was just for starters.  They chalked it up to the mysteries of quantemporal physics and breathed a collective sigh of relief.