Chapter 2

Stardate: 3316.09

 

Location: Crossroads Station

 

Noluk had beamed aboard and discussed matters. He sent word back to the ship that the Albatross would be able to dock temporarily at the outer docking ring. The crew was to disembark and the ship was to be moved off until it could be repaired. The Vulcan had agreed to meet Icmod at the hatch where the crew was to go through.

 

Icmod made a final sweep of the Albatross. He didn't feel comfortable leaving Albatross attended by the station's crew. But an agreement was an agreement. Icmod went through the airlock and turned to get a last glimpse of Albatross' interior.

 

Once through the station's airlock Icmod saw Noluk standing by a female Gatrubbian. Her uniform was reminiscent to the Starfleet attire he was used to but once again there were differences to make it seem foreign. The XO approached and greeted the pair of officers. "Hello, not sure if Noluk told you but I'm Icmod Smith Albatross' second in command."

 

The woman nodded to acknowledge the introduction. "I've been informed. I am commander Ligshuk Voci. Crossroads Station is under my command. Your captain and I have been negotiating a trade to supply your crew with temporary shelter while your ship is repaired."

 

"You don't happen to be related to Bresa Voci do you?" Icmod asked. He may have seen a crowd of Gatrubbians, but Bresa was the only one that Icmod knew by name.

 

The commander rolled her eyes. "Another history fanatic? Just because I am directly related doesn't mean that I didn't earn my position here."

 

"Not exactly a history fanatic per se." Icmod looked at Noluk, "You didn't tell her yet?"

 

"Our records indicate that time travel was not used in the early 25th century." The command interrupted before Noluk could respond. "Your captain's story is far fetched to say the least."

 

"So our antiquated ship and technology doesn't count for anything?" The XO burst out. Why was everyone in the future so prepared to dismiss time travel?

 

"We will be looking into the case when we have time." The commander seemed to be getting anxious. "But we have far more pressing matters at hand. Another ship full of refugees means very little at this point."

 

"But we're not refugees!" Icmod figured increasing his volume would get the point across. "Don't you get it we just jumped 900 years down the road."

 

Noluk put his arm on Icmod's shoulder. "What my officer means to say is that we are a freighter crew. We had no idea that such an influx of refugees was occurring."

 

The woman snorted. "I find it unlikely that your crew is ignorant of such a threat. Many religious leaders are call this the Last Chapter. They say that the Writers have abandoned our story and moved on. Frankly I'm beginning to agree with them. Now unless your crew is willing to volunteer aboard this station during their stay I will have to ask you to get back aboard your ship and leave."

 

"We will assist you in any way we can." Noluk responded. He maintained his calm demeanor even with his XO wanting to demand more answers. "I do ask that you consider our situation. Our ship is from 2416 and we only wish to return home."

 

"I will have my scientists look into it. Now if you'll excuse me I have to attend to other matters." Commander Voci turned and walked down the corridor without giving a farewell.

 

Icmod watched Noluk as the Vulcan looked down the corridor. "What threat is she talking about?"

 

"I am as clueless as you are friend." Noluk turned his attention back towards Icmod. "I would suggest we inquire at a more suitable location. There are many refugees located in the upper levels of the main structure. Perhaps they would be able to shed some light on the situation."

 

"I'll have some of the crew look into it." The XO nodded. "Do you mind if I go?"

 

Noluk shook his head. "No, go make sure the rest of the crew are together. I will find lodging and inform you when I have secured some resources."

 

#

 

Location: Somewhere in Crossroads

 

The crowd of Albatross crew worked their way through the crowded station. At every turn refugees seemed to be sitting and asking for help. Icmod tried to lead the way while the captain was away. They were nearing the core of the station and the number of civilians picked up greatly.

 

Suddenly Zeno stopped and alerted the crew, "I have information."

 

Icmod turned. He approached the android. The two hadn't talked at all since Icmod's return and he hadn't taken the time to fully appreciate the android's composition. "From where?"

 

"From myself." Zeno replied. "I just received information routed through the Albatross' comm system that came from myself."

 

Icmod ignored the fact that the android was making little sense. "Would you like me to recite the whole message or to tell you that we have been asked by me to take us to the Zenophile Cantina. The cantina should be located less than a kilometer from our current position."

 

"Fine lead the way." Icmod allowed Zeno to take charge. At least if they got lost he would have something to blame.

 

The crew entered a cantina and, low and behold, behind the bar stood what could easily have passed for what looked like Zeno. Most of the crew could be seen doing double takes to make sure they weren't going crazy.

 

Future Zeno's entire lower torso had been replaced with a crane arm mounted on a swivel in the ceiling which was in turn, mounted on a circular rail which afforded it access to the entire circumference of the room. Hundreds of appendages protruded from the base of its torso where its old chassis met with the crane arm, each carrying a drink, PADD, or miscellaneous tool. He swiveled to and fro behind the bar, occasionally leaving the bar to serve a table or gliding up over the bar to serve patrons who were more comfortable upside-down on the ceiling. Upon the Albatross crew's approach, Future Zeno turned its head towards them, a single photoreceptor zoomed in and out of focus. Wordlessly, a swarm of drones flew up from behind the bar and took over serving duties as Future Zeno glided towards the crew.

 

/Greetings my yet-to-be-deceased friends!/ Future Zeno intoned. Its voice had taken on a much more robotic quality than that of Past Zeno. Both of its main arm appendages as well as roughly 70% of its lower appendages opened outward in imitation of an open-armed greeting from an organic. /Please, conduct yourselves up these stairs and speak with me in the VIP suite. I have waived the usual use fees and we can talk privately there./

 

Icmod led the group up the stairs. He was still trying to work out the logistics of two Zeno's in one place and time. The old Zeno had barely befriended the crew and this new Zeno acted as if he had missed the whole crew dearly.

 

Dr Karbo did not hang out with Zeno much given he was a doctor, not a mechanic. His main interest is what medical treatment the future held.

 

Roquel seemed the most lost of anyone. She continually looked around to take everything in. This station was far more advanced than anything she'd been on previously, but the disastrous effects of a long conflict showed everywhere in both large and small ways. It was enough to be disconcerting, if not downright scary. To her surprise she'd seen several unknown races, far more Gatrubbians, and fewer humans than she'd seen on many.

 

Once the crew was inside, Zeno used the crane to raise its body up to the balcony in front of the VIP suite and detached itself from the crane. A set of mechanical legs which oddly resembled Past Zeno's legs unfurled from underneath its body and propelled it into the room where the door promptly shut behind it and turned red to indicate that it had been locked.

 

#

 

Location: Zenophile Cantina

 

Captain Carpenter sat with his boots on the stool next to him, drinking his beer, watching the comings and goings of the clientele. He was in a uniform of sorts, patched and painstakingly mended hundreds of times. The Old DFA, as a point of pride, seldom utilized replicators nowadays. Energy was too precious for frivolous use. They wore repaired uniforms until it was impossible to repair them any longer. Their ships followed suit. "Our forefathers had little, and we continued to fight, we keep the old ways." making them unreliant on pure power. It made them instead, dependent on a steady stream of supplies. Buccaneers, Privateers, Rogues. Always on the lookout for a mark. And perfectly willing to fight the enemy, although Guerrilla tactics and raids were more their forte. Rebels to the end, but working alongside, if not under, the defenders of the station.

 

Captain Carpenter drank the beer as his head turned, watching the newcomers cross the bar, speak to Zeno, and then disappear upstairs into the VIP room.

 

Carpenter tapped his comm badge. "Ready the Ghost. Something's come up."

 

"A mark Captain?"

 

"No, I don't think so. They wore Setlin badges." said Carpenter.

 

"Setlin." Clear surprise in the voice of his mate. "Since when do we work with Setlin?"

 

"Zeno was with them." said Carpenter. "And I mean an old copy of him, probably 400 years or older. If Zeno is willing work with us, an old Zeno unit may as well." said Carpenter turning towards the bar as a drone refilled his beer. Carpenter dropped a coin into the Drones hopper. In the mirror, Zeno, the current owner climbed to the VIP room. "If these guys have a Zeno unit, we may be able to get one too. I have not seen Zeno this excited. Ever." said Carpenter.

 

"Aye Sir, I'll get Ghost warmed up." said the mate referring to the DFA privateer ship Carpenter led.

 

Carpenter stayed, waiting, to see what would happen next.

 

#

 

Location: Crossroads Station Promenade

 

As the rest of his crew was off visiting an old friend, Noluk made his own route through the station. The station felt very crowded everywhere that Noluk went. Between the hordes of civilian refugees and official personnel, the Vulcan found himself having to shove his way along. He made his way to the main promenade. Several floors of open space revealed themselves. Each level was stuffed full of shops and services for the civilian side of life.

 

As the Vulcan looked around a Gatrubbian weaseled his way over. He was dressed in casual attire and made sure to get Noluk's attention. "My friend, have you heard the prophecy?"

 

"I cannot say I have." Noluk decided that this latest annoyance may hold some information about the station's predicament. "Please tell me the prophecy."

 

"It has been foretold that two five dozen and 6 gross years ago after the Great Sequel began this station was brought forth to fend off the Ending of Endings." The Gatrubbian's vocal display was impressive and was keeping Noluk entertained. "Now the Ending is near. The Writers have become bored with this universe and wish to conclude what they began. The great hero Bresa, who brought the Gatrubbian people of old and new together warned us of the Ending that we now face. The prophecy also declares that when the end is close, those who were once dead will arise to witness the end."

 

By this time a crowd of viewers had gathered around Noluk and the proselytizing Gatrubbian. The Gatrubbian now walked around looking among the crowd, then he turned and pointed a finger at the Vulcan. "You wear the symbols of the dead. Your ship was destroyed long ago. So it is written in the Stories, the Albatross and Axel that once shepherded the flock under the gracious hand of Bresa one day were lost to the worst enemy of all. Time. Your arrival foreshadows the end. THE END IS NIGH THE END IS NIGH."

 

Murmurs spread throughout the crowd. Noluk was uncomfortable with the attention that was being drawn. He attempted to walk into the crowd

 

"You cannot deny the facts oh great and wise Noluk." The Gatrubbian's words made the Vulcan freeze. "Yes your name is mentioned in the Stories. Advocate of reason, a friend of Bresa, you perished with your ship and now you return to face the Ending of Endings."

 

"I shall be going now." Noluk spoke knowing his words wouldn't be heard. But the crowd was densely packed now that the Gatrubbian had drawn even more attention. He was prevented from leaving the circle.

 

The Gatrubbian was now facing the crowd. "Brothers and sisters. Behold a sign of the end times walks upon this station. With him and his people comes death and woe. Make peace brothers and sisters for the time is upon us to accept the end."

 

A crack formed in the crowd as a squad of security officers came and tried to get the crazed Gatrubbian to calm down. Noluk took this chance to make his escape.

 

"You cannot walk away from the truth!" The Gatrubbian yelled as the guards attempted to restrain him. "The advocate of reason should know this!"

 

Noluk blended into a nearby stream of refugees to make his way further down the promenade. He stopped upon seeing a sign for accommodations. The Vulcan entered.

 

Standing at a reception desk was an Andorian with pointed ears. She saw Noluk enter. "Can I help you?"

 

"Yes." Noluk approached the desk a bit shaken by the drama he had taken part in. "I need to find lodging for a group of nine plus one android."

 

The Andorian laughed. "I've not heard such nonsense in weeks. Go to the refugee camp, we're booked for paying customers."

 

"I am willing to pay whatever price is necessary." Noluk was getting tired of the nonsense he was having to put up with. "Two or three to a room will be adequate enough for my people."

 

The receptionist took Noluk more seriously now. "We do have a couple rooms available but they are not cheap."

 

The Vulcan nodded. "I understand and will work out whatever payment is necessary."

 

The Andorian pulled the proposed pricing up on a screen that Noluk could see. The Vulcan almost refused but realized that this was the only option to avoid spending a night on the streets. "Will four rooms suffice? Each can hold 3 persons comfortably."

 

"That will be sufficient for my crew. Thank you." Noluk made the proper entries to seal the reservation. Now it was time to find the rest of the crew.

 

#

 

Location: Inside the VIP room

 

/May I offer you a drink from our fine stock of pre-invasion liquors?/ Future Zeno offered as a holographic menu appeared in front of every crew member's face. /I have adjusted the prices for the currency and inflation levels of your timeline. I hope you find your discounted rate pleasing. I apologize, but I could not waive the drink fee. I must offset the cost of the complimentary VIP suite./

 

The crew members could see that the drink prices were mere fractions of what they would have cost in their own time. 900 years of inflation had definitely made their latinum more valuable.

 

Icmod looked at the menu. A few items caught his eye. "You named some drinks after us I see."

 

/My time with you has produced a qualitative change in my programming./ Zeno replied, folding its two main limbs together. /I now am more inclined towards... what you would call nostalgia, sentimentality even./

 

"It may sound a bit odd to order this, but I'm up for an Icky Smith." The XO was amused at the name. "I didn't realize androids got so sentimental."

 

/Very good, sir. And yes, I am exhibiting many sentimental behaviors at the moment. I hope that you understand that you ceased functioning for many solar orbital cycles.../ in a blink of an eye a drone flew in from one of the ceiling ducts and held a drink in front of Icmod. It stayed there expectantly while waiting for Icmod to pay.

 

Icmod entered in the proper account information. It came as a surprise to see that the bank hadn't closed his account in the several centuries following his death. The drink that the XO held in his hands swirled with vibrant hues and seemed to ripple and change colours. For a second Icmod felt bad ruining such a work of art. Then he felt he was thirsty and took a sip. "Well I'll be damned. Haven't had a drink like this in years."

 

Future Zeno suddenly jerked his head to the side, fixing his photoreceptor at a shimmering presence in the corner of the room.

 

/Oh, Mister Zoss, I assure you that is quite unnecessary. In fact I highly discourage shrouding aboard this station./ Future Zeno spoke quickly and with concern.

 

"WHY?" Zoss growled as he shimmered into existence with Zal standing beside him.

 

/It is illegal for Jem'Hadar to shroud aboard this station./ Future Zeno explained. /For the public good, all Jem'Hadar must move around the station in plain view and under no disguises unless performing duties as a peace officer or fighting off hostile invaders./

 

"How...?" Zoss looked at the machine, confused.

 

That was a point that Roquel was very interested in too. The Jem'hadar had always been on the cutting edge of personal cloaking tech. She stepped around to Zoss's side to better hear and see the answer.

 

/The countermeasures to Jem'Hadar shrouding were discovered three hundred solar orbital cycles ago./ Future Zeno replied sheepishly. /They are a standard fixture of any establishment that caters to intergalactic customers. I picked you up the moment you walked into the Cantina./

 

"No... there are other Jem'Hadar aboard?" Zoss placed a hand on Zal's shoulder. "They're working here? We can walk freely? Without repercussion?"

 

/Why yes. If I remember correctly, you led a raid in the Beta Quadrant close to the end of your biological functioning cycle and freed several dozen pods of Jem'Hadar from the Dominion. Once back in Federation Space, you were declared free beings by the Federation High Court and given full rights. Of course, the defeat of the Dominion in the Second Battle of Bajor may have had much to do with that.../

 

"What the do the humans say, spoilers?" Karbo mused

 

"Shh!" Roquel wanted to hear this, and Karbo could easily derail the direction of anything. It appeared to be one of his most natural skills.

 

"So you mentioned that you might be able bring us up to date on the state of the galaxy." Icmod asked sensing a lull in conversation. He had finished off his drink and a service drone came by to retrieve the empty glass.

 

/Oh yes, where are my manners? I promised information in exchange for your company. Please, ask away./ Future Zeno sat down on the opposite side of the table from the crew and placed its primary arm appendages on the table.

 

"What happened to the Klingon empire, is my house still around?" Karbo asked

 

/The Klingon Empire remains a fixture in galactic politics./ Zeno began. /They have been largely unchanged by time and are as warlike as ever. Your house is doing well and marriage to a daughter of your house automatically qualifies a Klingon to compete for a seat on the high council./

 

"Where are all of the uniformed officers from?" Shenara had made an observation earlier and felt like an answer was necessary. "They seem to be the same species but I don't recognize it."

 

"They look Gatrubbian to me." Icmod replied to the pilot's question. "But if that's the case then this station belongs to the Gatrubbians?"

 

/Very astute Mr. Icmod. The Gatrubbian Empire are the friendliest power to the Federation in this quadrant./ Zeno replied. /They built this station with the help of the Federation and welcomed Starfleet as soon as the Federation lost its military headquarters in the region./

 

"The Gatrubbian Empire?" The XO responded out of shock. The Gatrubbians he knew were still flying around a fleet of ships. "How far does it extend?"

 

/Before the invasion, the Gatrubbians held over 200 colony worlds and over 300 client or confederated worlds./ Zeno brought up a holo-display showing a pre-invasion map of the Delta Quadrant. /Though they are not officially part of the Federation, they maintain extremely close ties. Gatrubbian personnel comprised over 60% of all Starfleet personnel in the Delta Quadrant before the invasion. They now represent over 90% after attrition and forced conscription increased their representation on the force./

 

Roquel raised both hands to the sides of her head and pushed her fingers back through her short curled hair. Her eyes seemed to bug out a little as she thought about all the implications of what Zeno was saying. She'd only met one Gatrubbian and that was Bresa, the newest XO of the Axel. She had thought that his race had all but disappeared. Now...in this time and place, they seemed to have become one of the greatest powers. How she didn't know. What course had they taken through history to be where they were now? Mind blowing.

 

"More than once a major threat has been alluded to in previous conversations." Icmod recalled, "What has everyone so tense?"

 

Again Roquel tuned in without a word. She had more to learn from listening than she could ever hope to contribute.

 

Zeno's photoreceptor dimmed as his processors registered a lowering of voltage throughout its body. /What we are 'tense' about is the Mother Entity. A carbon-based fungal life form which originates from outside our galaxy. It harvests all existing organic matter and harvests base components of organic matter from inorganic sources in order to feed itself and grow. It has invaded our galaxy starting with the Delta Quadrant and will most likely succeed in destroying all that remains of life in this quadrant, to include this station we are currently aboard, very soon./

 

Zeno's rendition of the coming horrors made Icmod's blood run cold.

 

Roquel's hand involuntarily rose to her upper chest. Her fingers splayed out across her collar bones as she gasped aloud. "Lords of Light!"

 

�And you thought it would be a good idea to brings us here?� Karbo said

 

Icmod turned towards the doctor. "It wasn't a choice, whatever caused the warp field to destabilize caused our arrival."

 

"True. But this was his chance to take us to the next target right." Karbo mused

 

'Had his universal translator glitched?' The Risian wondered. Or was she simply not following the conversation. She could understand if that was the case. Her thoughts were literally all over the place.

 

Getting back to the question at hand Icmod faced the android once more. "What makes this Mother Entity so dangerous?"

 

/The organism fights by producing subordinate organisms of itself. Similar to insects who specialize the various physical forms of their species, so too does the Mother Entity produce specialized forms of itself to perform tasks such as fighting, resource production, organic matter absorption, and infection./ As Future Zeno spoke, it cycled through several images of the various forms of the Mother Entity.

 

"So it's like the Borg?" This was Icmod's first reaction to the images. They sounded and looked different from the Borg by being biological in nature.

 

�Fighting a menace whose main weapon is disease a perfect enemy for a Klingon Doctor.� Karbo smiled.

 

"As if you could make a difference. You're a relic. We all are." Roquel realized how that must have sounded almost instantly and she placed her hand on the Klingon's forearm. "Sorry...sorry."

 

/Yes, the Mother Entity, whether by accident or design, is capable of spreading spores via its subordinate life forms to infect the respiratory or digestive systems of biological creatures. The spores grow and invade soft tissue, utilizing a combination of chemical suggestion, telepathic coercion, and outright invasive replacement, the spore takes over the victim's central nervous system until all they can think about is seeking out and uniting with the Mother Entity. It is called the Mother Entity because as its spores hijack the nervous system of the infected, the Entity itself telepathically seeks to impersonate the victim's maternal parent or brood sire. This technique utilizes hard-wired biological impulses to extract obedience and compliance in the victim with minimal coercion. If the victim fails to unite with the Mother Entity within a few weeks, it dies... rather painfully and violently./ Zeno's slide show became ever more twisted as images of late-stage infected beings and corpses overgrown with fungal tissue and necrotic flesh were displayed with ever-increasing degrees of horror.

 

�900 years behind on medical knowledge and I�m expected to beat it, time to do my house proud.� Karbo said with determination

 

"What progress is there towards a solution?" Icmod asked.

 

"Do you have an affected person to experiment on?" Karbo asked, rubbing his hands together.

 

Again the Risian wondered what hope Karbo would have of making an impact, when 34th century medicine hadn't discovered it, but this time she was smart enough to keep the thought to herself.

 

/Many have tried a multitude of solutions, but one of the most effective countermeasures are the Takamori-Bashir disruption fields which prevent the Entity from opening transwarp portals in localized areas. There are four such generators operating aboard this station and the planet below./ Future Zeno indicated all around them. /There are numerous fleet tactics and strategic area denial strategies that are proven to work against Mother, and some have even gone to the extreme of annihilating entire planets. However, by the time these techniques are discovered and successfully implemented in a local theater, the Mother Entity either adapts or utilizes its superiority of resources and numbers to overwhelm the defenders. The major races of the galaxy are merely fighting a holding action with varying degrees of success. The old animosities are slowly being set aside, but full political cooperation has not yet been achieved./

 

"So not much has changed. Good to know." Karbo nodded

 

"Doctor, I wouldn't say a galactic invasion is a small change." Icmod was trying to keep the conversation on topic but the doctor kept wanting to change the pace. "So this station. Is it a checkpoint for refugees or are they not being sent through the wormhole?"

 

"Yeah, but the bureaucracy is no different." Karbo added.

 

/Starfleet Command is insisting that this "beachhead" be held open in order to stem the flow of Mother Entity organisms to the Alpha Quadrant and prepare for a highly improbable Alpha Quadrant counteroffensive. The refugees themselves are being sent through, but only after a 72-hour quarantine period followed by an intensive scan. Due to attrition, lack of reinforcement, and an impending attack, there is a 98.6% chance that the garrison fleet will be overwhelmed within the next three weeks and a withdrawal will be ordered./

 

At this point, the Albatross' version of Zeno interrupted the flow of conversation. "I assume that we are going to make it back to the past. That is the only way that you could be here right now."

 

/You assume correctly, my significantly younger double./ It almost appeared that Future Zeno gave Past Zeno a wink with its main photoreceptor. /But for the sake of the continuity of the timeline and to ensure your actions remain uninfluenced, I cannot divulge anything else./

 

"I understand the full details cannot be disclosed." Past Zeno silenced himself going back into a contemplative state. "None of the personnel seem interested in having us here. Is there a good way to sway their mind?" The XO asked as the thought of somehow finding a way home had been brought back to his attention.

 

/I believe that you already have./ Once again, the Future Zeno winked. /First of all, Mr. Zoss and his son here are apparently religious deities of some sort to this era's Jem'Hadar. The station's constable has taken notice./

 

Zoss did not reply, and merely rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

Karbo forgot about Klingon Temporal Intelligence. They would not be pleased about this, so he decide not to ask anymore questions.

 

"Anything else?" Icmod asked. "Having a deity on our ship probably isn't going to get us too far."

 

/Also, the station personnel noticed quite a few oddities in the quantum composition of your vessel. Due to the exponential increase in the number of temporal disturbances in the future, we now do a full temporal transverse scan of all docked vessels. I believe the Emergency Commission will be contacting your Captain soon./

 

"Speaking of the cap'n." Icmod got up. "We should go find him. He was going to get us setup with a place to sleep. I don't about the rest of you, but nine hundred years of no sleep is starting to get to me."

 

/Before you go, dear friends, there is one thing I must tell you./ Future Zeno said rather suddenly.

 

"I think you told us too much already" Karbo said.

 

"Hush." Icmod turned to face the old android once more. "Go ahead Zeno. What should we know?"

 

/For the next few weeks, your actions will be critical to the continuity of this timeline. Every minute detail of everything you do will influence whether or not you successfully return to the past and whether or not we have this conversation 900 years from now. However, after you return to the past successfully, everything changes. You will be free to make your own destinies and what you see in this reality may or may not come true. This is why I cannot tell you how the immediate future will unfold, but happily for me, I can freely tell you of all the wonderful things that have happened as a result of your actions after you return. I apologize for not being clearer, but the only way I can explain it is that you are at a nexus point, a crossroads of sorts in the continuum. Many events branch off from this point, and many eyes are watching you and counting on you to successfully return. Please be careful..../

 

"Oh, so if what we do here does not make any difference, then we should save this timeline from mother." Karbo said while thinking to himself hopefully the temporal agents would not be too mad.

 

Roquel was in shock. Had he not heard what she heard? "He said....'your actions will be critical to the continuity of the timeline'. How could you miss that? If we do too much, we may NOT go home. We really need to focus on that, Karbo. We really do." She realized then that she was pleading with a doctor to not help if he could and she realized just exactly how wrong that sounded. Unfortunately, her words were out, and they couldn't be taken back.

 

"It would be dishonorable for us to do nothing, Roquel. You're not Starfleet, so do not use the prime directive bull. These people could die and we would be just as much there executioners as this Mother." Karbo spouted.

 

"Calm yourself doctor." Icmod put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Zeno's words are important to bear in mind. What we do will make a difference, but what good will an out of date freighter crew do that the Federation of this era hasn't done?"

 

"I have no idea." Karbo said "I'm not even sure what happens to this future when we return, if it's still around in some alternate pocket universes or something. What I do know is my personal code of honor can not allow me abandon someone in need. I lost my crew, I lost Carroll. I must make amends."

 

"I understand your need for honor, if you want to talk to some of the doctors on this station I won't stop you."

 

The XO looked the Klingon in the eyes. "Just know that this is more than a game."

 

"Oh it's is a game, sir. A most deadly game; where the stakes are high and the prize is more valuable than all Latinum in the universe." Karbo said.

 

Roquel leaned in towards the Klingon and spoke quietly, so that only he could clearly hear her. "You're right, Karbo. I'm sorry. Go see what you can do. Make a difference."

 

"Thanks" Karbo said even if he had no idea what he could do. The Klingon turned to there their friends counterpoint "Zeno please direct me to the medical ward"

 

/I will have one of my worker drones lead you there./ As Zeno spoke, a single worker drone flew out of a compartment and stopped just short of the doctor. It hovered expectantly as the doctor got up and they left the room together.

 

Once the doctor had left, Zeno turned to the rest of the crew. /If there is nothing else dear friends, I believe you should get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow. It has been so wonderful seeing you all again./

 

"Thank you for your services." Icmod bowed his head. "You have been very helpful and maybe we will meet again."

 

/Goodbye friends./ Zeno said with a wave. /Give my regards to Captain Noluk./

 

#

 

Stardate: 3316.09.19.02

 

Location: Corridors of Crossroads

 

Captain Carpenter made his way back from the medical facilities. They had sent an Albatross crewman Klingon there, although he did not appear to be sick. Captain Carpenter checked in for a routine Physical check. No evidence of mycanoid infection. He hadn't been exposed recently, that he knew of, so he was not concerned. But he also did not see the Klingon either, the real reason for his visit. Coming up without a lead, he returned to the Cantina.

 

The others had already left, and it took a while to track them down. The Gattrubians were making note of the Albatross crew, and while it made tracking them easier, it made actually getting to them, harder. They had checked into a hotel. This form of investigation was not on Carpenter's list of skills, finding out where they had gone, and when they were to return, and casual inquiries were politely brushed off. So he sat in the lobby. Perhaps someone would appear. It would be ideal if the Zeno unit himself would appear, but Carpenter had no such luck that day.

 

As it were, his luck was not holding that evening either. A squad of Kharian security came marching through, The squad leader gave a brief nod of recognition to Carpenters uniform, but did not slow. Carpenter did not recognize the soldier individually, and he doubted the soldier recognized Carpenter as anyone other than a soldier in the same force.

 

When the soldiers disappeared, Carpenter made his way back to the ship. Stopping outside the Hotel he was surprised to see additional soldiers posted.

 

"Trooper." greeting Carpenter, stepping off the stairs before proceeding down the walkway.

 

"Captain." returned the Kharain Soldier.

 

Perhaps tomorrow he would have better luck in reaching the Albatross crew and finding out more about the old style Zeno unit.