Where No Man Has Gone BeforeCHAPTER THREE

Catching Up?

Read the Prologue

Read Chapter One

Read Chapter Two

Kirk entered the briefing room last. All the department chiefs were present, and as Kirk took his seat, the last quiet murmurs died down.

"Spock?" inquired Kirk.

"We have retrieved a good deal of information concerning the mission of the Valiant and her fate." Spock nodded towards the viewscreen in the briefing room and continued.

"Valiant had been dispatched on a mission to chart for mineral-rich planetary bodies on the outer fringes of Earth-controlled space. Such missions were not uncommon in those early days of Terran space exploration, and, even in Valiant's time a few worlds had been colonized or otherwise secured for mining activities.

"After completing her initial survey" the viewer changed to show a middle aged African female with dark hair, skin, and eyes, "Command gave the ship's captain, Grace Imbutu, discretion to explore as she saw fit in order to give the widest-possible survey of resource potential in the territory under Earth's jurisdiction. When Imbutu signaled Headquarters with her plan to strike towards the fringes of mapped space, they approved."

Course projections appeared on the viewscreen as Spock continued. "Valiant maintained contact for nearly four months, sending back classifications and scan information in weekly bursts. Because of the great distance separating Valiant from the nearest Command Base, and the lack of anything beyond an early subspace transmitter, each day of travel at warp 3 put the ship another hour further from contact with her Command Base."

Spock called up the next slide in his briefing. "What occurs next is a reconstruction based on the available evidence. Even Captain Imbutu did not fully understand what was occurring aboard her ship." Spock paused a beat, taking in breath before continuing. "Imbutu admittedly pushed her crew far beyond what would have been considered the norm. The ship continued outward – beyond charted space. The ship dropped out of warp drive to take a mandated stellar fix. As the vehicle entered normal space, she encountered a bow-shock beyond the limits of then or now Earth-controlled space. The ship was damaged, and warp drive functions were quite limited."

Spock called up an engineering schematic of Valiant. "Of her four nacelles, only two remained functioning with any kind of reliability." Spock looked around the table, seeing the recognition of warp limitations in the faces of his crewmates.

"So," interjected Lieutenant Scott, "they were trapped beyond Earth territory, and most likely out of re-supply range."

"Precisely," replied Spock. "Imbutu ordered a course set for a previously charted Class M planet. They arrived there after three months. According to her log, Imbutu felt that the crew could either find native provisions or cultivate their own over the course of a few years; enough to supply a return journey, at least for a few members of the crew"

"But Spock," said Kelso, "that ‘return journey’ would have taken decades at low warp!"

"Indeed, it would have," said Spock. "But Imbutu would never have the chance to determine if her plan had the chance to succeed."

Spock pulled up another slide. "In the weeks following their planetfall, several members of the crew began developing unusual illnesses." Isolated statements from various medical logs described the early signs. "Each of the affected individuals had received burns during the bow-shock encounter, presumably caused by radiation exposure." Spock cocked his eyebrow. "Curiously, though," he continued, "none of the patients showed any other signs of radiation exposure. Only the burns."

"So," said Doctor Piper, "did their medical officer reach any conclusions."

"Yes," said Spock. "The conclusion of his life."

Piper looked confused.

"About three months into their stay on the planet, one of the patients killed the doctor and his nurse." Spock allowed the officers a moment to gather their thoughts together before he continued. "In all, eight of the sixty-two crew members were affected. They became increasingly belligerent, outspoken, creative, and intelligent. The one who killed the doctor and nurse led the remaining seven in an effort to take control of the ship."

"A mutiny?" breathed Kirk.

"Much more," said Spock. "More like a concerted effort to exterminate anyone aboard who did not share the 'superiority' of the eight."

"That doesn't make sense," said Dr. Elizabeth Dehner, the ship's psychiatrist. "Since the early days of space exploration, men and women have been closely watched for signs of psychological illness. Even today, we do not permit those with a tendency to homicide, suicide, or insanity to take positions of spacecraft. It would be a recipe for disaster!"

"I do not disagree with your assessment, Doctor Dehner," said Spock, "but the fact remains that eight members of Valiant's crew did, in fact, come, as you might call it, 'unhinged'. More than that, Doctor… they became quite violent, and equally manipulative."

Dehner shook her head in disbelief, "I just don't understand how that could be."

Mitchell spoke up. "I've served with hundreds, probably thousands of UESPA officers and specialists. No matter how unlikely it is for them to go nuts… I've seen it happen." Holding Dehner's gaze he drilled her, "Space is not always a friendly place."

Dehner leaned into the table, facing Mitchell. "Subcommander, when you get your…"

"Spock," Kirk stepped in and stopped the exchange. "Continue, please."

With a nod, Spock continued. "The eight crew members took a shuttle from the surface and forced their way aboard the Valiant, overriding the security systems. They then began making moves to take key areas of the ship. Imbutu tried to fight it, but realized that she was fighting a losing battle. Eventually one of the eight gained access to the ship's armory and began distributing weapons to his compatriots." Spock then paused, looking down momentarily before continuing. "The rest can be logically deduced."

"Logically deduced?" Dehner’s voice carried a sharp edge.

"Indeed," said Spock. "The eight became more and more violent by the hour, and began insisting that they were gods. Given their apparent abilities to control, or at least sway, the minds of their crewmates, Imbutu had little choice. Most of the crew was on the surface, and there was no hope of reinforcement. By the time a message could get to base informing them that something was amiss, nearly six months would have passed. Imbutu, fearing that the ‘possessed’ would truly be able to make good on their promises, and feeling herself nearly swayed by the leader of the eight crewmembers, elected to take the only option open to her to ensure that the eight would never be able to harm anyone else."

"You mean…" began Alden.

"Yes," said Spock. "Imbutu determined that the destruction of Valiant was the only way to prevent them from getting back to the planet or out into Earth-controlled space. She warped the ship out of orbit, and, in the midst of interstellar space, ordered the destruction of her ship in order to prevent the ‘infection’ from spreading."

A silence lingered over the assembled officers. Kirk broke it. "Did Imbutu signal the Command Base? It seems odd that a survey ship commander would not try to get a final signal away."

"The log is unclear," said Spock, "but even assuming that she did, the timing of Valiant's destruction is very close to that of the Valhalla Uprising on the Deneb Colony. Even if Imbutu signaled the ship's fate, it is very likely that word of that fate never reached Earth. Colonial and Terran priorities turned inward. Political struggles, failing economies, and the then-contemporary human propensity towards bloodshed and violence caused a breakdown of the fabric of that early interstellar society. Valiant simply joined the many outlying colonies and expeditions that became forgotten mysteries of the past.

The briefing room was quite for a time. It was Doctor Piper who spoke first. "What about the planet?" Piper paused as everyone turned their heads toward him. "Were there any... any survivors?"

"Unknown," responded Spock.

After several quiet moments, Kirk looked up. "I'm open to suggestions on how to proceed."

"I'd keep a verra wide berth between us and that bow-shock," said Scott.

"Scientific and medical studies of the bow-shock could prove useful." Spock, this time.

Kirk looked to his medical officer. "Doctor Piper?"

"Well, I agree, studies of the bow-shock could be useful – who knows, perhaps this is a new kind of radiation that we have never encountered before... but I am more concerned about the possibility of survivors."

"Well, if we are going to investigate, we're going to need to do some astrogational computation," said Kelso. "I'm going to have to plot out Valiant's log and try to get fixes on the bow-shock and the planet."

"Spock?" inquired Kirk.

"It should be possible to work with Lieutenant Kelso to accurately mape the area, taking stellar drift into account, of course. It would be in our best interests to avoid an abrupt encounter with the shock."

Scott piped in, "Or the planet."

A faint chuckle spread around the briefing room as a result of Scott's jest, but Kirk remained silent, considering all the information he had. Every eye in the briefing room was looking to him as he formulated a plan in his mind.

"Spock," Kirk said, "are the logs specific about the source of the bow-shock?"

"Negative," replied Spock. "Generally bow-shocks are created by supernovae, stellar collisions, nuclear explosions, or massive radiation storms. Without study of the bow-shock Valiant encountered, I cannot give you any reliable hypothesis about what created the shock."

Mitchell smiled, "Sounds like a mystery to me, Jim."

Kirk nodded, saying, "One we should probably solve." Kirk stood up, toggling a map of the local area onto the screen. "Other ships will be traveling out this way soon, and they'll need to know what they are facing."

Nods came from all around the table. Only Doctor Piper held out.

"Captain," said Piper, "I think we should make a survey of their planet our priority... if there are survivors...ur... children of any survivors..." Piper trailed off with a shrug.

The thought gave Kirk pause. Was it possible that, after all these years, the children of the Valiant crew might be alive on the planet? Would it make any difference if he visited those survivors now or in a few weeks?

"You have a point, Mark," said Kirk, "but I want to get to that bow-shock as soon as possible." He turned to his exec. "Gary," said Kirk, "coordinate with Mister Spock and Lieutenant Kelso, and get us on a course that bring us to the edge of the planetary system the Valiant logs report, together with a follow-on course that will bring us out of warp a safe distance from the bow-shock."

"Aye, sir," came Mitchell's response. Kirk nodded to him, and Mitchell in turn nodded to Spock and Kelso. Together the three rose and left the briefing room.

"Alden," Kirk said, "head down to communications and get a message off to several nearby Command Bases. Transmit the contents of Valiant's bouy and our intentions."

Alden rose and acknowledged the order with a nod before he left the briefing room.

Kirk rose from his seat, gave the remaining officers a considered look, and dismissed them. As they left the briefing room, Kirk toggled the briefing room screen back to the image of Grace Imbutu.

"What did you know?" he said out loud. "What secrets did you take to nothingness with you?" Kirk did not expect an answer today; but he did expect an answer. He could only hope that his answers would not come at the high price that Imbutu had to pay more than two hundred years ago.

Where No Man Has Gone BeforeCHAPTER TWO

Catching Up?
Read the Prologue
Read Chapter One

After forty seconds, Enterprise had come to a complete stop. Throughout the ship, veteran spacers just stood or sat and brushed off the somewhat disorienting effects of the transition from hyperspace to normal space, while newbies would often find themselves in something approximating a drunken stupor for a good twenty or thirty seconds after translation.

Palmer's voice again echoed from the still-active intercom. "Secured from warp-speed. Stand by for impulse power."

As if on cue, the deck carried the ever-so-subtle vibration of the impulse drive throughout the ship. As the impulse drive ramped up to power, Sublieutenant Kyle was shaking off the momentary effects of translation. After a few moments, he joined Kirk and Spock, leaving the chamber and heading four doors down to the transporter room.

Kyle brought the system up and immediately reviewed the targeting data from the main sensors. "I have a target confirmed," said Kyle. "We'll be in range to get a positive lock in about three minutes, give or take."

Kirk nodded, and then activated the intercom. "Kirk to bridge."

"Bridge, Kelso."

"Mr. Kelso, what are sensors showing us?"

Kelso paused a moment before responding. Making his way to the Sciences console, Kirk thought.

"The object that the sensors are locked on can't be much more than two or three meters in diameter. Hard to tell at this range."

"Not large enough for a wreck," observed Spock. "Not even large enough for a lifeboat."

Kelso piped in. "Definitely small enough to bring it aboard, sir. If you want to risk it, that is."

Kirk considered this for a moment.

"Very well. Mr. Kelso, bring us alongside."

"Aye, sir," responded Kelso, and the connection went dead.

Kirk was barely aware of Kyle's preparations for transport. In his mind he was turning over in his mind the situation he found himself in. What lay ahead? he wondered. What is this mysterious object in our path?

He would not have long to wait.

Five minutes later, Enterprise settled to a stop at a distance of ten kilometers from the object on sensors. With a fair deal of coaxing, a dark visual image resolved itself on the bridge viewscreen. Kelso piped it down to Kirk in the Transporter Room. It took Spock less than a second to identify what they were looking at.

"Gentlemen," he said, "that a typical ship's disaster beacon, not that much different from the ones our own vessel carries."

Kelso's voice sounded over the intercom again. "Sensors aren't picking up any radiation, beyond the incidental background variety. No active power sources – save the transmitter."

"All right," said Kirk, turning to Kyle. "Whenever you are ready."

With a nod, Kyle turned to the transporter controls and began his final lock-in. He pre-cycled the transporter systems, requisitioned the engineering computer for the necessary power, and energized the transporter unit, bringing aboard a piece of history

As the transporter effect died down and Kyle secured the equipment, Kirk and Spock stepped onto the transport platform and touched the casing of the probe. It was neatly lettered:

U.E.S. VALIANT
UNITED EARTH SPACE PROBE AGENCY

"Look at it," Spock said. "Burnt, pitted."

"From the looks of it, its a wonder the thing survived at all," remarked Kyle.

"Let's see what we can find out from it," Kirk said. "Spock, go ahead and feed its data into the library computer."

Spock leaned over and opened the casing protecting the beacon's memory core. Gently, he lifted the heavy cylinder and took it into his hands.

"I want a briefing in less than an hour," said Kirk.

With a nod of acknowledgement, Spock left the compartment.

Turning back to the transporter console, Kirk called the bridge.

"Kelso here."

"Lieutenant," Kirk began, hesitating, "anything else of interest, or relevance, in sensor range?" Kirk knew that it was a long shot. When a ship was destroyed in space, the inertia the vessel possessed at the time of its destruction always spread the debris in a sphere around the source of the destruction. If the ship had met a violent end then there would, most likely, be no indication of anything anywhere near Enterprise's present position.

"Nothing, sir," replied Kelso. "Sensors show clear."

"That's what I thought," said Kirk. Pausing, he checked the transporter console. Noting that the diagnostic sequences were complete, he dismissed Kyle with a nod. As the young officer left the compartment, Kirk again addressed Kelso. "Hold present position, Mister Kelso. Spock took the memory core of the beacon to retrieve its information and prepare a briefing. Have the ship's department heads meet me in the briefing room in one hour."

Kirk didn't wait for Kelso to sever the connection before he left the transporter room.

For now, Spock had the memory core in his hands, Kelso had the ship under control, and Scott had the engines working at peak efficiency. Kirk realized that there wasn't much for him to do until the briefing, so he headed for his office to review pressing business, and to ponder the fate of Valiant.

Where No Man Has Gone BeforeCHAPTER ONE

Catching up?
Read the Prologue

---

CAPTAIN'S LOG
MET: 133 days, 3 hours, 19 minutes
(March 14, 2802)


The impossible has happened. From directly ahead, we are picking up the transponder signal from a ship’s disaster beacon. The identification code is that of a survey vessel, Valiant; that was recorded as lost and presumed destroyed over four hundred years ago. Enterprise is on course to intercept and investigate.

James R. Kirk
Commander
UESPA

---

In the forty-nine hours since Lieutenant Alden had picked up the transponder signal from Valiant’s disaster beacon, there had been little to do except wait. That was one of the problems of serving on a faster-than-light vessel. Traveling as she was at Warp Factor 6 (1024 times the speed of light), Enterprise was blind and deaf to the outside world. There was nothing to see in hyperspace. No science to be done, no strange life forms or new civilizations to discover.

The only major event to occur after Enterprise set her course and re-entered hyperspace took place about an hour after Kelso informed the captain about the signal. James R. Kirk had gathered the senior staff together for a briefing; one that was marked mostly by the lack of information in the ship’s computers about any vessel named Valiant in the early days of starflight.

Of course, a lack of information concerning the old ship wasn't suprising. Earth and her progeney had endured a significant dark era in the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth centuries. Cities, continents, and colonies were reduced to cinders. Humanity had grown too fast, expanded too far, and in the process had forgotten the unity that had drove them to the stars.

But now, after the renewal and reinvigoration of the human race, the starship Enterprise was racing towards the edge of the galaxy, and just a few hours ahead of her lay a relic from the latter days of man's first interstellar expansion. Investigating would, hopefully, reveal a final record from Valiant. Her fate would, Kirk hoped, be known.

After the briefing, life went on as normal. Scientists analyzed sensor readings, the medical staff attended to the ship's crew, Lieutenant Scott was busy tinkering with engine performance, and Kirk took the chance to catch up on the ever-present paperwork and reports that were the bane of any starship commander's existence.

On the night before the anticipated encounter with Valiant's recorder-marker, Kirk advised the department chiefs to get some rest. Taking his own advice, he went to his quarters. After nearly fifteen years aboard various spacecraft, the anticipation of the impending rendezvous was not enough to keep Kirk from getting a good seven hours of sleep. When he awoke, he noticed a message on his personal com-panel from Lieutenant Spock. Kirk reviewed it; an invitation to join Spock for a game of three-dimensional chess in the Wardroom. He decided to take Spock up on his offer.

After recording his long entry, Kirk called Spock and told him that he would meet him in an hour. After showering and pulling on his tunic, Kirk quickly ate breakfast and looked over the ship's morning report before heading to the Wardroom. Spock was seated at the chessboard, awaiting Kirk; the playing pieces at their starting positions. Kirk nodded to the Lieutenant and took his seat.

Spock, the ship’s senior scientist, was a highly regarded officer. Admitted to service in UESPA on a technicality – his mother’s Terran origins – he had performed admirably aboard Enterprise under the command of Kirk’s predecessor, Christopher Pike. He was a well-rounded academic and researcher, an efficient department manager, and unquestionably loyal to the ship and her crew. However, Spock was reserved. Though the crew knew of his mixed origins, they were unsure of why the lieutenant had chosen UESPA service, especially given his personality – a typically Vulcanian stoicism that separated him from the rest of the crew. Everyone respected Spock, but very few actually liked him.

Not far from Spock, Subcommander Gary Mitchell was standing at another table, conversing, though Kirk would have called it flirting, with Uhura, a Swahili sublieutenant from communications.

Mitchell, the ship’s executive officer, displayed none of the reserve of the Vulcan scientist. A friend of Kirk’s since his days at the Academy, Mitchell had studied under Kirk for a semester as a midshipman aboard the patrol ship Ceres. On that cruise, Mitchell had saved Kirk’s life; establishing a friendship that would endure regardless of the distance that separated them.

Mitchell was well known for his ‘girl in every port’ tendencies, a fact that nearly resulted in his dismissal from UESPA service on at least one occasion. However, his intricate understanding of astrogation, flight dynamics, and human interaction led UESPA to overlook his questionable ‘recreational’ habits.

When Kirk was assigned to command Enterprise’s exploratory cruise, he requested that Mitchell be assigned as the ship’s executive officer, and UESPA begrudgingly granted the request.

He took note of Kirk’s arrival and quickly ended his conversation with Uhura. Only her stifled laugh alerted Kirk to Mitchell’s approach.

“So Jim,” Mitchell began, “I see its time for another savage beating at the hands of our favorite Vulcan.”

“I don’t know about that,” Kirk said. “Perhaps this time I come to the table with a winning strategy just waiting to be unleashed.”

Kirk looked up a Mitchell with a smile, but as Gary was preparing his retort, Spock plaintively said, “That is doubtful, Captain.”

Kirk and Mitchell immediately turned their heads to Spock who, after a moment’s pause, continued, “We have played twenty-seven matches since you assumed command of Enterprise over four months ago. I have won all twenty-seven. It would be illogical to assume that today’s game will produce a different result.”

“I see,” began Kirk.

“No,” said Spock, “you do not.”

Kirk looked back to Mitchell. Gary’s only response was to turn and grab a chair from a nearby table, and sitting down at the chessboard. When Mitchell realized that Kirk’s gaze had not shifted off of him for nearly twenty seconds, he simply raised his hands and gave Kirk the innocent ‘who me?’ look he was somewhat famous for in at least three or four Admiral’s offices in the home sectors.

“Nothing to say, Gary?” asked Kirk?

“How about, ‘This is gonna be good?’”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so,” jested Mitchell, raising his eyebrows and flashing a wicked grin.

Three-dimensional chess was not a game for the faint of heart. Pieces could be in play on any one of three main levels, three secondary levels, and three tertiary levels. The rules themselves were so complex that most humans never bothered to learn the game.

Those who did grasp the game, however, had come a long way. Several had been champions of the Inter-System Chess Federation in the intervening years; but James Kirk was not one of those champions, and now, nearly thirty-five minutes after the match had begun, he was facing what appeared to be certain defeat.

As Spock moved a knight to a second-level board, the three-note intra-ship communications signal sounded, and Specialist Palmer’s voice called, “Subcommander Mitchell, please report to the Impulse Deck. Subcommander Mitchell to the Impulse Deck.”

Mitchell rose, acknowledged the call, and then moved the chair he had appropriated back to its original spot. “Duty calls,” he said with a degree of joviality.

Kirk, holding his queen, barely took notice of Mitchell’s words. He continued to consider the board as Mitchell came up behind Kirk and whispered, “If you put your pretty lil’ queen on that tertiary level and call a freeze, you can still win.”

Kirk drew in a breath, turned his head to look over his left shoulder, and laid the queen on the lower-second level. Drawing his hand back from the board, he maintained his gaze.

“Suit yourself, Jim,” shrugged Mitchell. “Whadda-I care if you get your ass trounced again.” And with that final jab, Gary Mitchell exited the Wardroom, heading for the Impulse Deck.

Kirk’s gaze remained on the passageway until the doors closed. Slowly he turned his head back to the chessboard.

“Subcommander Mitchell was correct,” said Spock. He drew in a breath and continued, “You had a chance to preserve your queen and several attacking pieces by calling a freeze after relocating the queen as Mister Mitchell suggested.”

Silence descended on the table for a moment.

“Perhaps,” voiced Kirk.

“Almost certainly,” responded Spock. “But I fail to see why you did not avail yourself of the opportunity.”

“Because.”

Spock looked at Kirk with puzzlement. “’Because’?”

“Because I hate a know-it-all.”

Spock’s left eyebrow inched up. He made no other response.

After drawing in a breath, he moved one of his bishops to the second level, trapping the king in a nearly impossible position behind three other pieces.

“Check,” announced the science officer. Though it was in his normal tone, the Wardroom was so quiet that Kirk could hear several of the other officers in compartment stifling giggles or sighs. Kirk turned to face them. Gabler from engineering shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and made for the exit. The rest of the officers, realizing that Kirk had noticed their attention, turned back to whatever pursuits they were engaged in – though several did so with reddened faces.

“Oh ye of little faith,” said Kirk -to no one in particular- as he turned back to face the chessboard. He met Spock’s gaze and gave him a thin smile. “I’ll give you this, Lieutenant… you are the most logical chess player I have ever met.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll have you check-mated on your next move.”

Kirk considered the board. He looked to Spock, and then, as he looked closely at his game-management screen, he muttered, “Have I ever mentioned that you play a most irritating game of chess, Mister Spock?”

Spock replied, “Irritating?” Something approximating a grin touched Spock’s lips as he continued, “Ah…yes. A human emotion.” Spock prepared to speak again, but what happened next occurred so briskly that he only had time to voice the words, “Fortunately, I am immune to…” before Kirk decimated Spock’s contingent of pieces.

Kirk moved the queen he had previously played on the second level to the first level, and toggled a freeze. The board then recalled his concealed pawns –there were three of them- and put them into play where they had been locked on the third-secondary level. Kirk then moved one of them into the tertiary position, one into the secondary position, and one into the primary position. Spock’s king was trapped, and with two seconds left in the board freeze, Kirk’s bishop jumped to Spock’s king and claimed the board. The computer emitted a triple tone and announced, flatly, “Checkmate.”

Spock stared at the board for a good ten seconds, keenly aware of the attention of the officers in the compartment, as he attempted to figure out what had just happened. Kirk finally broke the silence.

“Quite certain you don’t know what irritation is?”

Without looking up, Spock responded, “The fact that my father married a human female…”

“Terrible having bad blood like that,” Kirk interjected. “But, someday, you might come to appreciate it.”

Before Spock could formulate a response, or even look up, the intra-ship communication signal pierced the still-deafening silence.

“Bridge to Captain Kirk.” The voice belonged to Lieutenant Lee Kelso, Enterprise’s lead helmsman.

Kirk stood and walked to the nearest com-panel. Depressing the response button, he replied, “Kirk here.”

“Sir, we are closing in on the projected source of Valiant’s disaster-beacon transmission. Permission to enter normal space and commence approach?”

“Secure us from warp drive at your discretion, Lieutenant, and then bring us within transporter range of the beacon. Spock and I will head to the Transporter Room. Have Mr. Kyle meet us there.”

“Aye, sir,” responded Kelso, and, with a confirmation tone, the communication was concluded.

Kirk turned to Spock who had already stood up. “Let’s go, Spock,” he said. “We have a bit of a mystery to solve.”

As the two left the Wardroom and entered the central corridor, Kirk heard the general intra-ship communication tone, followed by the pleasant voice of Specialist Palmer. “Now hear this. Now hear this. All hands, stand by to secure from warp-speed. Impulse crew to your stations. Translation to normal space in two minutes. All non-essential personnel to Translation Stations.”

Kirk and Spock briskly made their way down the central corridor. Around them, members of the crew were busily stowing loose articles and entering into the various nearby translation stations. As they entered the station nearest the Transporter Room, Sublieutenant Kyle greeted them.

“Good morning, Captain,” said the Englishman.

“Morning, Mister Kyle,” responded Kirk, good-naturedly.

Kyle initialized the chamber’s sensor matrix in preparation for translation as he ruefully said, “Lieutenant Scott is a bit disappointed that you didn’t ask for him on this transport, sir.” With a laugh he continued, “He claims to have personally met Valiant’s engineer at dinner one night in Aberdeen.”

Kirk grinned, “I am sure he did.”

Overhead, the intercom again called for attention. “Securing from warp-speed in ten seconds. Standby for translation.”

Kyle braced himself firmly against the station console. Spock and Kirk, both veterans of thousands of transitions, remained standing where they were as the bright blue glow of the deceleration dampening field enveloped them.

“Translation in five… four… three… two… Translation… mark!”

For an instant, up was down, left was right, past was future. In that instant, Enterprise decelerated to a complete stop in regular space, and her powerful matter/anti-matter, dilithium focused warp engines disengaged.

Where No Man Has Gone BeforePROLOGUE

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SHIP'S LOG: UES ENTERPRISE

MET: 131 days - 2 hours - 4 minutes

(March 12, 2802)

Enterprise has left hyperspace for mandated stellar fix, per normal schedule.

Lee Kelso

Lieutenant

UESPA

---

It was flickering erratically. Lieutenant Alden almost missed it the first time. Almost. But after fourteen years as a space-borne communications officer, Lloyd Alden rarely missed anything.

The signal was dated, to be sure. It carried little information of relevance, and it was traveling at light-speed. If the ship had not been in normal space, Alden would have never had the chance to decipher the message.

“Mister Kelso,” said Alden, “signal coming in.”

Lieutenant Lee Kelso turned in the command chair to face the communications officer. Kelso was the senior helmsman aboard Enterprise, and, as fourth in the vessel’s chain of command, he was currently conning the ship. “A signal?”

Alden nodded. “Yea, Lee. Never seen anything like it… at least not in practical use.” Alden called up the signal information on the station viewscreen.

Kelso rose and made his way to Alden’s side. “Hrm…” he began, leaning over Alden’s shoulder. “I’m no communications officer, but that looks ancient!”

Alden nodded. “The type of signal and the mode of transmission, they indicate a Terran origin… but it has to date back at least four to five hundred years.”

“Early Earth ships never had this kind of range, though,” said Kelso. “Hell, Lloyd, even in today’s fleet, only a few ships have this kind of range.” Kelso glanced over at the astrogation display. “This is at least four years outside the travel range of an old Earth-based warp-ship.”

“I don’t care, Lee,” said Alden. “This signal is genuine.”

Kelso stood upright, and made his way back to the command chair. He hesitated for a moment before he sat down. “So,” he said to Alden, “I suppose I should have some more information than ‘an ancient signal’ if I am going to call the captain. Do you have anything else I can tell him.”

Alden took a moment, then, on the overhead viewer, he called up the single, incessantly repeating transmission. It was in text only, and it read:

DISASTER BEACON
S.S. Valiant SV-34
April 15, 2376