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“We have passed through the rift, Captain. Dechronitonization of the hull is underway, we should have all systems back online in five minutes.” The commander said as telemetry was relayed to her console.
“Excellent, keep me informed on the dechronitonization.” replied Captain Fylo.
“Aye sir.”
His name was Hector Fylo, captain of the 30th century temporal vessel, the Pocket Watch. He sat forward in his chair, combing through the mission data on the captain’s console before him. Ocassionally taking a glance at several holographic screens that floated above.
His skin a light peach color, his short hair coal black and spiked up at the front. An intelligence visor covered his eyes, never wanting to take it off. Most of the crew wondered why, but never questioned it any further. A secretive fellow, yet very social with a quirky personality.
With an emphasized sigh, he leaned back in his chair for a quick second before reaching for the silver cup that sat on top his console. Putting it to his lips, he drank the lukewarm ice tea, placing it back in its original spot after. He regretted having nursed the drink for so long.
Glancing around the room, it was only the commander and him on the bridge. He admired the construction of Wells class ship bridges. The curvature of the grey walls, the large viewscreen and dual person console in front of it, the temporal transporter on the far side of the room, the wall of large consoles at the back of the room, and the large curved window in front of his console that showed the blue nebula in its magnificence.
“Commander zh'Saro.”
“Sir?” The Commander responded, looking away from the dual console.
Commander Tahri zh'Saro, an Andorian hand-picked by Captain Fylo to serve on the Pocket Watch for her knowledge of temporal mechanics. Her skin a light blue color, her silver hair cut short and tucked neatly behind the ear. Her uniform pants and shirt a coal black with a blue highlight on the right arm. The neck and shoulders of her uniform were covered in thin blue shards of photonic armor.
“Did you ever take Temporal Mechanics forty-one fifty at Starfleet Academy, with Professor Duarac?”
“I did, sir.” zh’Saro answered.
Fylo stood up, walking over to the railing and leaned over it. His uniform was slightly different, wearing a white, black, and green overcoat with gold stitching, a black and white scarf hanging loosely around his neck and white gloves to match. Large green shards of photonic armor covered his arms, wrapping under his arms to partially cover his back and chest. The hologram emitter on his right wrist was much larger than the lieutenant’s, green shards encircling it.
"Professor Duarac. Lovely woman, nice metaphors on temporal mechanics, especially the one of time being a wolf." Fylo chuckled.
"I remember that, sir. Though, I'm more particular to her metaphor of temporal incursions being like depth charges in a shallow river."
Fylo chuckled, returning to his seat. "Ah yes, another good one.” He looked towards the ceiling, “How goes the de-chronitonization, Gazelle?"
A female voice replied. "Dechronitonization will be completed in approximately three minutes. Processor cores 15, 27, 82, and 134 are not operating within expected parameters, I have redistributed the quantum data between all 2,448 available cores." Gazelle answered, the lights flickering slightly as she spoke.
After the introduction of Elachi technology onboard the Pocket Watch, it began to integrate itself into the central computer, it was soon after this occurrence the computer became sentient, calling itself Gazelle due to its strange liking toward the creature of the African savannas. The crew, at first very uncomfortable with this new sentient computer, has come to cope with this entity and nicknamed it Gaz for short, as well as regarding her as female due to her soothing female voice.
zh’Saro nodded, “Thank you, Gazelle.”
“You’re welcome, Commander.” Gazelle responded.
Captain Fylo chuckled as he typed on his console, “So, I was thinking. Perhaps I’ll allow the crew a bit of shore leave, ship’s in for a bit of a diagnostic and that could take a few days.”
“That sounds nice, maybe I can surprise my parents earl -”
zh’Saro was cut off mid-speech as the bridge jolted to a side, knocked clear out of her seat and flew several feet before hitting the floor hard and rolled to a stop.. The Captain, also thrown from his seat, yelped as his head made contact with the wall before falling to the floor on his stomach.
zh’Saro groaned as she came to. “Gaz, what just happened.” she yelled, trying to crawl to her seat.
“Two Klingon Vor’Cha-class vessels have just decloaked on our starboard side, Negh’Var to port.”
zh’Saro growled. “...Must be a couple of Klingon rebel ships.” she said, regaining her footing and fixed her seat. “D-chronitonization is still in progress, shields and weapons are still offline.” she yelled.
Another explosion rocked the bridge. “How long until we have shields?” Fylo yelled, gripping the guardrail for support.
“Uhh….” zh’Saro muttered, swiping on a holographic projection above her console, “I don’t know sir, and I don’t think they’re in the mood to talk this through.”
Fylo cursed under his breath, reaching his console and began to check systems. “What about cloaking, can that be done?”
“Power to auxiliary is still offline, we can barely run a toaster at its current level. All reserve power is going towards the computer core and essential systems, nothing more.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here!” Fylo yelled as his combadge chirruped.
“Engineering Chief Gahul to Captain Fylo.” Gahul’s voice sounded from the combadge.
Fylo pressed his combadge quickly, still at his console. “This is Fylo, tell me you have some news, Chief.”
The cacophony of an explosion sounded out through the combadge. Gahul coughed, “Captain, what the hell’s going on up there?”
Fylo grunted as the bridge lurched to the right, “Couple of Klingons thought we might be easy pickings, how’s the hull?”
Gahul muttered something under his breath in Trill. “I’m gonna be straightforward here, Captain, hull’s not gonna hold, I give it a few minutes before they cause a breach, they’re putting everything they got into their weapons. Several decks have lost reserve power, artificial gravity is gone on decks two through four, and we just lost five EPS conduits.”
Fylo growled under his breath, “Chief, forget all other problems, just focus on getting main power restored and shields back online right now!” He yelled, the comm channel cutting out as he finished his speech.
Fylo glanced out the window as a torpedo struck the hull, the immense kinetic force and heat of the impact forming a crater in the light grey hull. A wave of multicolored energy washed over the hull, each disruptor blast and torpedo strike creating a wave that traveled the length of the ship’s hull.
“What the…”
“Captain!” zh’Saro exclaimed, “I’m detecting a buildup of chroniton particles on the hull!”
“What’s creating them?” Fylo yelled, leaning over the railing before before running over to a large console on the back wall.
“I don’t know, sir, but the Klingon’s disruptors are having some kind of effect on them-AH!” zh’Saro screamed, shielding her face with both arms as sparks exploded from her console.
He slammed his fist on the console, swearing out loud. “I’m not going down like this….”
“Captain, if I may…” Gazelle spoke, her speech sounding glitchy and mildly distorted.
“Bridge!” Gahul’s voice sounded from Fylo’s combadge.
“What now?!” Fylo screamed.
“Sir, the tipler cylinder is activating, it’s almost approached light speed!”
“Who activated the cylinder?”
“I don’t know sir, but I’m still reading chroniton particles on the hull from our previous jump, and they’re increasing.”
“Shut it down, Now!”
“I’m sorry, Captain. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Gazelle interrupted, “Tipler cylinder has achieved light speed.”
Fylo stared at the ceiling, his mind putting the pieces together. “Gaz? Wait, GAZELLE!” He yelled, running over to his console.
“Activating time discs….” Gazelle stated, her speech becoming slow and heavily distorted as time twisted and turned. The view outside the window showed space and time rippling like the ocean in a giant storm, multicolored waves battering the grey and black hull of the temporal vessel. The bridge and its crew held in a state of infinite time dilation, the chronometer on the console stuck on April 3rd, 2410.
For what seemed like hours was only seconds through the constant called Time, space realigning itself into a less fluid appearance as it mixed with normal space. The Pocket Watch, thrown from the rift like a child’s unwanted toy, tumbled aimlessly without power as pieces of its hull followed in orbit around it. The light of the full moon illuminated the battered vessel and its fragmented companions as they silently flew above its gleaming surface, the blue hue of the earth hundreds of thousands of miles away, appearing like a large blue circle in the black of space.
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