DL | Lt. Evan Merlin (CSOO) | "Past Present"

Posted on Wed Oct 11th, 2017 @ 3:47am by Commander Evan Merlin
Edited on on Wed Oct 11th, 2017 @ 11:06pm

Mission: The Round Table
Location: Cold Station Theta
Timeline: SD 241710.11

=/\= Cold Station Theta, thirteen years ago =/\=

A lonely life pod came drifting out of the nebula on Cold Station Theta's doorstep, a single beacon singing its sad melody. Once it was sufficiently far away from the nebula for the beacon to be heard, a small panel in CST's Ops area began to blink. It took the officer on watch, a bored lieutenant who had served on this station for seven years and had resigned himself to spending the rest of his career here, half an hour to even notice. Then the man yawned, stretched, got up and sauntered over to the panel. Looked. Blinked. "Hey, guys, come look at this," he called. Things weren't that formal, out here in the boondocks.
A curly-haired ensign popped her head out of a door to the side. "Wassup?"

"I dunno. Come take a look."

"Oh, for fecks's sake, Yinn, if you're pulling my leg, I swear-"

The lieutenant looked up. "Not this time, honestly. Here, listen." He flicked a switch and the beacon's soft bleeping filled the Ops deck.

The ensign entered the area and straightened her uniform. Unlike Yinn, she still hoped to be transferred off CST someday, to a more exciting post. Or any post. Even border patrol would be great. At least then you'd see different stars every day. But someday, please, someday soon, before she became as bonkers as the oldtimers here. "Okay, what have we got?" she asked, her eyes running over the scanners.

"Small craft, came out of the nebula, sub-light speed, drifting more or less our way. If we don't go and pick it up, it'll arrive here in about three years," Yinn replied.

"Small craft?" The ensign snorted. "It'd fit in my bedroom here. I'd say it's small indeed. Barely any energy output that I can detect, other than that beacon. Do you think we should…?"

Yinn stared at her. "Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing that has happened here the whole year!"

The ensign straightened her uniform again and ran a hand through her hair. "I'll alert the Captain."


A few hours later most of the motley skeleton crew of CST was gathered in one of the landing bays. In it, next to the shuttle which had retrieved it, was a small life pod. Dark grey, no outer markings, no other features except one round indention on the top. A small light blinked there, keeping time with the now audible bleeps from the beacon.

"Any life signs in there?" Captain Gabriels asked, walking over to where his Science officer stood, tricorder in hand.

Lieutenant Balearus shook his head. "Can't really say, sir. I think there's a low level stasis field in place. My guess it it'll collapse when we open it. The only thing I do know is that there's a chronton displacement around this pod. It was stronger when it came out of the nebula, so my guess it's dissipating now that it's further from wherever it came from. In a couple of hours, there'll be only minimal signs of it at all."

"Hold on there." Gabriels held up one hand. "Chroniton displacement? I'm not a science officer, so layman's terms, please."
"Uhh…" Balearus blinked, coming down from his happy little world with a crash. "Chronitons? Subatomic particles, markers which indicate a temporal displacement of sorts."

Captain Gabriels continued to stare at him. "You mean to tell me it's from the future? Or the past?"

Balearus nodded, obviously glad he got the point across. "Yes."

"Which is it? Future or past?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I have no idea. Chroniton displacement, that's all I can say. It's all over the place."

"And no idea what's in it," Yinn recapped. "So, basically, there's no way of telling what's in there until we open it?"
"Nope," Balearus replied with twinkling eyes. "So, anyone feel like it's Christmas yet?"

"We do not celebrate Christmas on Vulcan," CMO Sotok replied stiffly.

"Maybe you ought to give it a try," Balearus said. "Can we, Captain? Make a big Christmas tree on the promenade, maybe a fake open hearth, Secret Santas, eggnog and… hmm… Vulcan port?"

"Mind on the job, gentlemen," Captain Gabriels chided. He was an older Captain, highly decorated after figthing in several wars, and sent to spent his last years of service on Cold Station Theta where nothing more exciting happened than a long range patrol vessel refueling once every two or three years. He had relaxed some since he came here, but he could still be a firebrand when the situation demanded it. "Open it, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir." Balearus grinned, looking for all the world exactly like a child about to open a package he found under a Christmas tree, and pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

At least, not for about ten seconds. After that, the light stopped blinking and the sad bleeps stopped. "At frickin' last," Yinn whispered, earning himself a stern look from Sotok. "Oh, c'mon," he said louder. "You with your ears, tell me you didn't think the same."

Sotok remained stoically silent, but now it was Balearus who shushed him. "Look!" Part of the top of the ovoid sank back and irised open. From inside the life pod came a bright light, yellow/orange/red, which flooded the landing bay for several seconds before dimming again. Balearus stared from the light show to the tricorder and back, shaking his head. "Can't make heads or tails from it," he muttered.

Then the light disappeared entirely, and at last they could see the sole occupant of the life pod, a slender man of indeterminate age, with an unruly mop of dark, curly hair and not a stitch on him. "Well, he seems uninjured," Balearus said faintly, breaking the silence.

"We won't be certain of that until I've examined him in the Sickbay," Sotok said coolly.

The man opened his eyes and looked around. They were a startling color, a kind of blue-grey with flecks of green, like the sea. "Hello," he said pleasantly, looking at the circle of faces surrounding him. He sat up, apparently oblivious to his state.

"Hello," Captain Gabriels said neutrally. "Welcome to Cold Station Theta." He turned his head to the nearest crew member, ensign Phillips, who was staring down with the same fascinated look the others wore. "For heaven's sake, give the man a blanket," he hissed. The ensign stiffened, shook herself and dashed off.

"Cold Station Theta," the man repeated, looking around again from his new vantage point. His head stuck out above the pod now. "So that's where I am? Seems like a nice enough place."

Lieutenant Yinn muttered something under his breath. Still loud enough, apparently, because Sotok snapped a: "Lieutenant!" and the man inside the pod grinned. "Now, it can't be all that bad here, can it? I've never been in a boring place yet… I think…" his grin faltered.

"Yes, about that," the Captain said. "Who are you and where are you from?"

"You know," the man said cheerfully, "I have absolutely no idea!"


Another few hours later found them in CST's Sickbay. The newcomer sat on the edge of a biobed, dressed in some hastily replicated clothes and looked with interest at what the Vulcan was doing. "And you have absolutely no recollection of your past?" Sotok asked. Differently phrased, it was the third time he asked that question.

"None whatsoever," the man said. He slid off the bed and strolled over to where Sotok was standing. "What's this?"

"The scans of your physiology," the Vulcan replied. "Which is not something I have ever encountered, I must add."

"Really?" The man looked at the scans with great interest. "So this is what I look like from the inside. How nice."

"You've never seen similar scans before?"

The man looked at Sotok and laughed. "Maybe, maybe not. How should I know? Not that I remember, certainly."
Sotok raised an eyebrow. "You take it surprisingly lightly, not being able to remember anything."

"Of course," the visitor replied. Suddenly all the merriment disappeared from his eyes and they turned cold and grey. "It makes no difference to the situation whether I laugh or cry, or yank my hair out in despair…" He pulled at his hair, eyed the wild curls, shrugged, released them and watched them spring back. "So I might as well laugh," he added, and the life flowed back into his eyes and face. "So, what makes me stand out?"

"Several things," Sotok replied. "The binary vascular system is the thing which stands out most. There also appears to be an anomaly with your DNA. But what strikes me the most is when I tried to determine your age. How old do you think you are?"
The man smiled and spread his hands. "I have no idea. How does forty one sound to you?"

"I do not guess," the Vulcan said stiffly. "However, when I took a tissue sample-"

"When did you do that?" the man muttered, but Sotok ignored him. "I ran a scan to determine your age. The results are inconclusive. You're…" he glanced down at the readings, "either newborn or close to a millennium old. Or both at once. Which is, of course, completely illogical."

"Of course," the man murmured. He had wandered away and was now studying his rather blurred reflection in one of the darkened panels. "Well, I certainly don't look like I'm a millennium old, so that's clearly absurd. And as soon as I feel the urge to suck a pacifier, I'll let you know." He turned around to face the Vulcan again. "Was there anything else?"

Sotok shook his head. He himself felt the urge to go back to his quarters, light a few candles and enter meditation. The Vulcan way of Cthia was really under strain after this encounter. "No," he said coolly. "As far as I can determine, you're in a perfect state of health. I did not find any scars, both internally or externally. You can leave." He waved towards the door.

"Thank you," the man said briskly and walked out.


He had spent several weeks on Cold Station Theta after that, and had come no nearer to find out anything about himself. No memories resurfaced, at least not about himself. Occasionally it seemed he had a flash regarding other things – such as a nagging feeling that CST should be a lot bigger and modern, or something about an area in a nearby corner of space. But he was never certain if that was a memory or a dream.

The life pod in which he was found offered no clues. There were no markings on the inside either. As Balearus had predicted, the chronitons had dissipated after a few days. The life pod itself was made from a rare, but not unknown material. Built in the hull was a beacon and a stasis field. Aside from the man inside, the pod had been empty, but for one simple object: a pendant which consisted of interlocking rings, hanging from a delicate chain which looked like silver but wasn't. The man had shrugged when Balearus gave it to him. "I suppose it's mine, but I have no idea what it is. They could be the keys to the engines, or whatever." He fastened the chain around his neck. "I'd better keep it. Who knows I'll find out what it means, one day. Provided it means anything at all." He grinned and tucked it under his shirt.

When one of the long range patrol vessels stopped at CST to refuel, he persuaded them to give him a ride. Swayed either by his arguments or by Captain Gabriel's recommendation, they agreed to take him along. He carried with him a small bag with two sets of spare clothes, some toiletries, a few PADD's and the pendant. And he didn't return to Cold Station Theta for thirteen more years.

---

Lt. Evan Merlin
Chief Strategic Operations Officer
Cold Station Theta, SB-1170