//------------------------------// // Letters and Numbers // Story: Star Trek: Ongoing Elements // by Barrobroadcaster //------------------------------// Nol 'Sevra Orbit Outpost Final Standard, Port-side Interior Observation Deck Lieutenant Jefferey Wilson wondered what time it was. In space, everything was set on Starfleet's schedule, it wasn't based on the position of any celestial bodies they happened to be near. It was more effecient that way but he still preferred telling time like he'd done on Elysium. He'd grown up there and despite living in space most of his adult life, he was still used to coordinating the current time with the position of its three moons. If he'd only had a few seconds longer, started a few seconds faster, he wouldn't be in this situation now. He thought about asking one of the tall pirates that dragged him through the deck by his arms if they had the time then quickly reconsidered. While his unversal translator worked fine, he was fairly certain these klingons didn't speak a word of any language he knew. He may have even been the first human they'd ever seen in person. His hands were bound or he would've probably tried to steal one of their weapons or strangle one of them. After what seemed like an hour, the two klingons finally pulled him to the main viewing platform. Another klingon stood, his back to the three of them as he looked out the window into the massive hangar beyond. "Get him on his feet," the Klingon escorted the two carrying him. They simply hauled him up by his shoulders and allowed his feet to find their own stable position. The two of them could easily have carried the small crewman, it was likely they dragged him simply because they didn't want to expend the energy. The klingon turned slowly. Lieutenant Wilson figured this must've been their commander. "Where did you find him?" the commander asked, folding his arms. "Cowering on their bridge, whispering to one of their machines," one of the klingons answered. The klingon commander scratched his chin. Probably handsome by klingon standards Wilson guessed, the only distinguishing characteristics were the five strands of hair that made up his beard. They hung on his face in neat rows, looking more like scars or warpaint than facial hair. He looked as if he was almost studying the crewman. "He can understand us?' the commander asked. "Yes sir but his translator won't be able to make it so we can understand him. Even if he knows it, I don't think he's willing to speak klingon," the gaurd answered. "I need only to understand one word," the commander said, walking over to him. With a single powerful hand, he picked the young man up off the floor and pressed him to the wall of the observation window. His face was mashed up against the window, the Starfleet pin on his red uniform pushed into his chest. "Lights!" the commander barked. One of the gaurds moved to the wall and threw a switch. Slowly, lights on the hangar's floor and ceiling began to light up, illuminated the dark hangar beyond. Lieutenant Wilson recognized some of the klingon ships as part of the fleet that had ambushed them. They'd been cloaked and had taken them by surprise. Looking at them now, he realized their ships were mostly in poor condition. Several civilain vessels, large, bulky and vulnerable had been outfitted for war. These klingons were pirates. In the center of the menagerie of ships, Lieutenant Wilson recognized his home. "Speak! What is the name of that ship?!" the commander shouted at him. Name, rank, number. "Wilson, Jefferey. Lieutenant, serial number four-two-three-nine-" The klingon pulled him back away from the wall and then smashed him into it again, his chest hitting first and slightly lessening the blow to his head. "The name of the ship! Now!!" Lieutenant Wilson's eyes began to tear from the pain. "Wilson, Jefferey. Lieutenant, seri-" The commander pulled him back, smashed him against the bulkhead this time, face-first. Wilson's nose was smashed and he tasted blood. One of his teeth felt loose but he wasn't sure. Grabbing him behind the neck, he pressed the crewman against the window again. Outside the viewport, he saw his ship, his home, floating amidst all the garbage that had somehow captured the beautiful vessel. It was scarred, the surface pock-marked with black streaks, the hull damaged and warped in several places and enormous black holes exposed several vital areas. He read the letters and numbers that adorned the hull of the saucer section near where the bridge was housed. The symbols were still legible. The rest of the ship looked like part ruined building, part massive, gutted sea mammal. Wilson was sad to see the proud vessel in such a state. If he'd only been a few seconds faster, he would've entered the self-destruct codes and finalized the countdown. The ship would've gone out in a last, glorious burst of energy rather than become a prize for some scum. The "Big E-Z" as the ship had been dubbed would've gotten the death it deserved. That failure now weighed heavily on Wilson's mind. "What is the name of that ship? Speak it now!!" the klingon thundered at him. Wilson struggled to turn as he was pressed against the glass again, his own blood smearing against the window. He smiled as he caught the corner of the commander in his eye. "Excuse me but could you tell me what time it is?" he asked with a sly smile. The commander was done playing games. He turned Wilson around and grasped his thraot with one powerful hand, crushing his windpipe. Wilson's ears popped as darkness began to press in on the edges of his vision. He heard the klingons speak again, it sounded as if the voices came from far away even though he knew they were standing right in front of him. He felt like he was in freefall, sinking slowly away from the world. "I will not ask again!!" the commander roared. "What is the name of your vessel?! The ship we found you on, what is its name?!!" What was the use in keeping the name to himself? The crew was dead, the mission was a failure and he was never going to see Elysium again. What would denying the enemy one last time accomplish but another second of pain? Against all the pain, finally Lieutenant Jefferey Wilson snapped. His resolve had been broken. "En... en..." he began to say, studdering against the grip of the klingon's massive hand. Responding, the klingon released his grip slightly so he could speak. "N... NCC- seventeen-oh-one-dash-zee," With tears streaming down his cheeks, the lieutenant betrayed his home, his family and himself. He said the name of his ship one last time, "Enterprise." The klingon released him and he dropped to the floor, slumping against the glass. The klingon laughed triumphantly and pulled a disruptor from his holster. Part of the hangar just outside the viewing platform was illuminated by three green flashes. Despite the fact that Lieutenant Wilson's head now had three smoldering holes in it, the translator attatched to his ear continued to function and even record the klingon's shouts. "She is ours! Enterprise is mine at last! Victory!!" The klingon commander announced it to his crew, his voice echoing through the viewing platform. The Federation's flagship, the pride of their fleet and their most powerful warship was now in their hands. Truly, the spirit of Kahless was singing in their hearts this day. Curso System Federation Starbase 156, Hospital Wing Clinically, Commander Paul Jones was fine and fully recovered from the injuries he recently sustained. That had nothing to do with how he felt, however. He felt like he'd lost a lot more blood than he really had. But that's usually how people felt when most of the people they considered family die. A purple unicorn walked into the room. Commander Jones, still lying in his hospital bed turned his head to face his visitor. "I'm sorry, Twilight," he told her. "I..." he stopped and then corrected himself, "We failed you." Twilight Sparkle shook her head. "No, you didn't. If we hadn't come here, none of this would have ever happened," she said, trying to take responsibility. There were tears in her eyes as she said, "You wouldn't have lost all your friends." "You saved my life. The least I could've done was try to get you back home," he told her. "If we hadn't found your world, you never would've been involved." Twilight put a hoof on his shoulder. "I'm happy you found us. I'm so sorry that all of this happened." "It wasn't your fault, Twilight. We should've prepared for this." "You did your best, you all did. There's no way you could've anticipated what happened. If you hadn't done anything," Twilight turned her head to the floor. "my friends and I would be dead." Paul grabbed Twilight's hoof. "If you hadn't done anything, I'd be dead." Paul felt tears on his cheek. Three days ago, he'd been the Executive Officer on board the flagship of the Starfleet and the Federation, the U.S.S Enterprise-Z, a proud position if ever there was one. He and the rest of the crew had been sent on a mission of paramount importance to Twilight's home planet, Equestria. Technically, they'd already been there once but getting back had proven to be a more complicated matter than anyone could've imagined. "I don't know what's going to happen now. But I know they'll probably want me back on Earth when it happens." Earth and the entire Federation were currently in grave danger at the moment. Stars, the sources of light, life and energy for the galaxy had recently become unstable throughout the Milky Way Galaxy, threatening the population of every inhabitable body that orbited them and all known life in the unvierse. What caused the problem was unknown but affected stars began fading out, simply fizzling up and dying. Without stars, civilizations across the galaxy could not function. A solution had quickly been discovered, a cure of sorts. Recent scans indicated the possibility of a star-stabilizing material, a substance capable of stopping a star from dying and continuing the life-giving reaction on Twilight's homeworld. But the substance had only been found on Equestria, a planet in another galaxy entirely. The Enterprise along with a science vessel, the Acclimator, had been sent to retrieve some of this miracle material and also to return Twilight and her friends back home. The mission quickly turned into a disaster. The Acclimator suffered a malfunction and dropped out of warp in non-Federation controlled space. Commander Jones had been beamed over to the science vessel in order to repair the damage. It was at this time the ambush came. A fleet of enemy ships set upon them like vultures attacking wounded prey. Enterprise was more than capable of defending herself and retreating. Unfortunately, it would've left the Acclimator completely defenseless. Sacrificing themselves, the Enterprise stayed behind to cover the Acclimator's escape. Paul hoped that the captain had given them hell before she died. He knew she would fight to the very end. The Acclimator then fled to Starbase 156. The loss of so many friends, people he considered to be his family left a hollow feeling inside Commander Jones, like a pocket of dead air that filled the cavity of his entire body. "We'll find a way to get to Equestria," Twilight told him, her tone sad. Her optimism was almost enough to make Paul cry. He didn't have the heart to tell her how little chance they had, how they'd probably both wind up on Earth as it died. He placed a hand on her hoof. The speaker next to his bed beeped twice. "Commander Jones," a voice he didn't recognize addressed him from the speaker. "Go ahead," he replied. "The admiral's instructed you to report to Starbase One for debriefing. A shuttle for you and the diplomatic party is waiting at hangar eighteen," the voice said. "We're on our way, Jones out," he said. The speaker flipped off at his reply. "Debriefing... not like anything we say's going to change anything. We lost The Big E-Z and we didn't even make it to Equestria. There's nothing they can do now." "Starfleet doesn't have any other ships that could get us back home?" Twilight asked, hoping for a different answer than the one she already knew. "Enterprise and Acclimator were the only ones capable of making the trip. And sending a science vessel out into deep space unescorted is suicide. No," Paul's voice turned sad and low. "there's no other ship capable of getting to Equestria." "Why do they want you back on Earth, then?" Twilight wondered. "When things... don't go according to plan, the people in charge like to hear about it from people who were there. And usually blame them for it." Paul said as he moved to the edge of the bed. "You did everything you could've. My friends and I won't let you take the blame for what happened," Twilight said adamantly. "I don't think that's something you or anyone can stop, Twilight. But they'll probably want to talk to you too." Twilight looked down at the floor for a moment, thinking. "I... understand. I'll go get the others ready," she said, turning around and heading out of the room. "Twilight," Paul stopped her. She turned as she reached the doorway. "Thank you again for saving me. I'm sorry I couldn't return the favor." "You don't owe us anything, Paul. We're... we're friends," she said back to him. They shared a smile and the doors closed.