Star Tre Enterprise B. 02 - Inherit

The old man removed the contacts from his eyes and brushed back his shaggy half-grey, mane of hair with his hand as he entered his bedroom. He felt a strange combination of both fatigue and vitality all at once. His exhaustion stemmed from his many long endless battles to try and change the past so the future would be better than it was. He wanted to remove the corruption that had infiltrated the Federation and somehow keep it pure, idealistic, a place of exploration, one of learning and discovery just as it had been in the beginning. The war he waged was not one anyone knew about or could see with the exception of a select group of beings who worked for him in exchange for 'favors'. His battleground was the timeline and the old man did all he could to softly manipulate the past in hopes of changing the future. So far he had been unsuccessful in his endeavors, but he was undaunted. He had to make things right, make them perfect for future generations... and for her. He had promised he would make things right and was determined to do so.

The strange energy that filled him came from a different source, but certainly had links to the exhaustion. Danaë Picard was the inspiration for all that he did at this phase of his life and he knew that he would be seeing her soon, the real live person. Just that thought made his heart beat a little faster and filled him with hope. His mind was still playing the image of that young woman over and over again as he sat down on his bed. Her eyes were so bright. so full of life and hope. How could he have failed so miserably at keeping her from meeting Jonathan Archer? It was the Suliban. He had been a fool to trust them with such a delicate mission. They had already failed at recovering the Klingon that would set in motion Starfleet's entry into space exploration, so why did he think this would be any different? Instead of changing the past, it had all happened anyway.

For a moment he rubbed his green eyes, telling himself that they were simply tired and that those were not tears trying to break through. Swallowing his emotions, he flexed the joints and was greeted by the familiar sensations of stiffness, swelling and slight pain. His age was starting to creep back into his body. He would need to spend the next twenty-four hours laying in a special bed so that his flesh and bones could soak up rays of metaphasic radiation thereby healing and replenishing his body.

The old man got up and went into the next room where a tube shaped berth sat open. It was filled with long special light bulbs made from a special quartz-like material mined from a moon that orbited the planet Lior. These minerals, combined with the right amount of energy, pressure and light produced the metaphasic radiation he needed to keep living. He removed every last stitch of his clothing then touched the small screen at the foot of the bed to start it and set the timer. He laid down on the platform then taking a hypospray and setting it to the right dosage, he injected himself with a sleeping draught then soon faded into a sort of hibernation.

For an entire cycle of the Earth the old man remained in a perfect repose. His mind revisited happier times and lighter days, all of which was his favorite part of this procedure. Upon waking his heart momentarily sank as he remembered where he was and what year it was. He had to forget the past, but he didn't know how to set aside the best part of his life. Pushing the disappointment aside, the elder stood up, his body feeling stronger, younger and his mind was sharper and more focused. There were no aches in his joints and he had less grey in his hair. He still looked aged, but nowhere near as ancient as he should look or feel.

He left the room where he kept his special bed, then showered and dressed. He went to his desk and began to go over some research information he had requested. He barely read through the first paragraph when his mind began to drift back to her. Seeing that his remunerations would give him no peace, the old man took a key from a small polished coral box sitting on his desk and unlocked his bottom desk drawer. Inside he took out a wooden box that he carefully set on the desk. From the case he pulled out two personal hand written journals. They were artifacts that had been carefully preserved for more than two hundred years.

The first was a simple black notebook that was becoming well worn around the edges and was tied shut with a simple leather strap. The entries were written in a fine masculine hand and the author was none other than Captain Jonathan Archer himself. The other was slightly smaller and made from brown leather that was imprinted with a Mandela circle and at one time possessed a lock on the front that had long since broken. The author of this diary had a delicate femanine style and was recorded by one Lt. Danaë D'Arcy Picard. Both documents spoke of the early days of exploration on board the Enterprise NX-01. In an era when technology had rendered paper and pencil a rare commodity, it was unusual for someone to choose to keep a handwritten journal, but the old man understood the need for such an archaic record. These books contained thoughts and emotions that their authors could not show or express either to themselves or to anyone else. They had certainly never intended for these books to survive for such a long time.

The old man quickly turned the pages of both logs until he reached Stardate -69008.41. This particular date held great significance for him. It was when the individual course of these two authors would change and intersect in unexpected ways. He knew both accounts well, although there were times he wished he could forget it altogether, or feverishly study every miniscule detail in hopes of finding a way to change it. He looked at the writing in both books then leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and began reciting the words spelled out before him. What they spoke of he could visualize clearly as though it were happening all over again, beginning with the entry from Danaë's notebook.

Stardate -69008.41

Lt. D'arcy was lying with her head on the table in the Command Center of the NX-01 dreaming of another Enterprise and another captain. She had been studying all of the information on the mysterious spheres they had discovered in the expanse hoping for a breakthrough, but had found nothing. Her lack of progress was infuriating to her. She had always prided herself on how quickly she could break down technology whether it was the Federations or anyone else's. Trying to solve this puzzle made her feel like a bumbling idiot.

The watch on her wrist suddenly buzzed, breaking her from her dreams and waking her up with a start. For a few groggy moments she wasn't certain where she was or what was going on, thankfully her watch buzzed again bringing her fully back to reality. Glancing down, Danaë suddenly realized it was almost time for one of Maj. Hayes training sessions in the cargo bay. Oh, how she loathed those. She really couldn't deny that there were many crew members who needed brushing up on their self-defence skills or a crash course in marksmanship with a phase pistol, but she wasn't one of them. She was born and raised a Picard (even if she couldn't use the name anymore) and her father had made sure that she had been given the proper instruction for both since she was five. By the time she had run away from the Starfleet academy she was one of the top marksman of her class. The same could be said of her fighting skills. Unfortunately, she had no choice but to be at Self-defence practice. The only person exempt from the training sessions was Captain Archer... lucky him.

Danaë quickly put her things away and headed straight over to the locker room where she changed into her workout clothes and managed to join the others with two minutes to spare. The class consisted of mostly enlisted personnel with a sprinkling of non-commissioned officers as well as a few commissioned and senior officers all ready to learn new techniques in hand-to-hand combat from Maj. Hayes. Even Lt. Malcolm Reed, head of security, was there. Initially he had not been particularly fond of the major and believed that Hayes was trying to usurp his position. The friction between them had become so heated that the two officers had even come to physical blows. Their altercation didn't end until they were both bloody, battered and severely reprimanded by Archer for their behavior. Fortunately, in the process the two had managed to come to a truce, although Malcolm still didn't entirely appreciate the major's way of doing things. Both men were aware that the mission they were on was far more important than their personal differences and both understood that it was best to work together if they wanted to succeed and that included being amicable during drills.

The trainees were divided into pairs, and each was practicing the moves that Hayes had shown them with varying degrees of ability. Just like most of the others, Lt. Danaë D'Arcy wanted to be anywhere but there, such as relaxing and clearing her mind by practicing her father's Ressikan flute in her quarters. It had become her favorite way to wind down, especially after spending many hours with T'Pol analyzing all the known data on the spheres (which was very little) and attempting to figure out just how they were controlled and how they could access the interior. It had only been a day since they discovered a humanoid lifeform inside a capsule floating in the middle of a number of spatial anomalies that were in the midst of converging. To their shock, the alien they had found was slowly and painfully disintegrating. More disturbing than the sight of this being crumbling to dust before them, was his final message to Captain Archer. ' When the Xindi destroy earth, my people will prevail.' It was clear that whatever species he was, they were the architects of the spheres and the plot to destroy earth.

As frustrating a setback as the alien was, it had only spurred the crew's resolve, not that they didn't have plenty to begin with. Since entering the expanse and discovering the network of spheres, Danaë and T'Pol had spent many hours in the command center going over charts, diagrams, scans and every miniscule piece of information that had been collected hoping to solve the puzzle. The two women had found that on this project they complimented each other beautifully. In her long life the sub-commander had assumed many roles from the Vulcan Ministry of Security to the Science Council on the Vulcan High Command. She was indispensable to Archer as second in command and chief science officer and had developed an appreciation for Lt. D'Arcy. Where logic only showed her what a piece of technology was used for, Danaë could envision a dozen new uses that no one had ever dreamed of.

Like all Vulcan children, The sub-commander's upbringing had followed the rigid and strict principles handed down from generation to generation. From their earliest days they are taught to suppress emotions and embrace logic. Knowledge, science and improving the mind are noble pursuits encouraged in the young and to be cherished in old age. T'Pol tried to follow these precepts, but her path was not always an easy or straight one. Even so, she still was vulcan personified and very different from Danaë D'Arcy

Born two hundred years in the future, Lt. D'Arcy was the only child of one of the Federation's most distinguished captains, Jean-Luc Picard. In many respects she was like her father, intelligent, clever, eager to explore and well-spoken, but unlike him she was more intemperate and stubborn. Following the rules was something she was never good at, although she had made a more concerted effort to do so after joining the NX-01. How Captain Picard had handled her rebellious side was by constantly keeping her quick, lively mind occupied. He saw to it that she was given a classical education filled with art, music, languages and literature both as a compliment to the more mainstream subjects that prevailed in her regular classroom and because it was a family tradition.

Danaë excelled in school, but it didn't completely stop her defiant streak and whenever the opportunity came she would steal and alter various pieces of equipment or simply hack into the ship's computer, sometimes both. She never messed with anything that was critical to the function of the ship, but she did keep the Chief Engineer, Geordi La Forge busy. The systems she worked on now were a far cry from the ones she had taught herself on, although she still had a few pieces of twenty-fourth century technology at her disposal. When she was pulled back in time she brought with her a PADD, phaser and a tricorder that she had modified and reconfigured so she could hack into any system she desired. This piece in particular she had used many times throughout her life in the twenty-fourth century and now in the past, it had proved valuable again in the rescue of Captain Archer.

For the quick thinking, skill and audacity she had shown on that mission, Danaë was allowed to join Starfleet and made an officer after passing rigorous testing. In her heart she could hear her father reminding her about the importance of the Prime Directive and the need to hold to its principles so, in a show of good faith, she gave her modified tricorder to Captain Archer. It was to remain retired and for some time it stayed safely locked away in the Captain's desk, mostly forgotten, but an incident with the Andorians had given the captain a reason to use it again. Archer himself had personally requested that Lt. D'Arcy use it to access the sensor telemetry on Shran's ship the Kumari and thereby obtain the Xindi activation codes when they tested their weapon. The human captain had been wise enough not to trust the Andorians and in the end his suspicions were correct. When a message was received from the Andorian vessel that looked like nothing more than subspace interference, Danaë managed to decipher the message and Captain Archer had all the detailed scans of the Xindi weapon.

Unfortunately, trying to figure out the intricate network of spheres, their purpose and how they worked was proving much harder. When she wasn't in the command center she was helping Cmdr. Tucker in the engine room or working out in the gym, but right now it was drills with Maj. Hayes. This evening she had been paired with one of the MACO's best, Lt. Cole. Every now and then Malcolm glanced over and smiled each time he saw her get the better of Cole.

Perhaps these drills weren't necessary for enhancing her skills, she had to admit one thing and everyone had to agree on this point, it was an excellent way to work off stress and frustration. That was one thing that every crewman was feeling and it only increased as time went on. Each person on board, regardless of their position or the amount of time they had spent in the forefront of battle, was steeped in tension and strain. The weight of Earth's fate was riding on their shoulders and no one felt the burden more than Captain Archer.

From the moment Captain Archer had got the communication that earth had been attacked, he had become a man driven. He met every challenge and stumbling block head on and took every set-back, injury and loss personally. He spent his days and nights restless and under more strain then he thought he could bear at times. He was angry at himself for the choices he had been forced to make, even though he found no alternative, and he was still pissed over the strange alien they had found encased in a pod and hovering in an ever expanding gravimetric field. The being had died from cellular decay but not before uttering ominous words; words that reverberated in his recollection every time he closed his eyes.

Wanting to blow off some steam and work through his enmity, the captain decided to join in on the drills. The idea was a sound one, but his timing was off because he arrived just as Maj. Hayes was giving his rundown on how everyone had performed just before releasing them. Hearing the door to the bay slide open he immediately turned and upon seeing Archer he stood at attention as did everyone else.

"Captain Archer." Maj. Hayes said in greeting. "We were just finishing drills, is there anything we can do for you, sir?"

"Uh, I was hoping to join your class, but it seems I am too late."

"On the contrary, sir, we still have time and would be glad to have you," The major quickly responded. He walked over and gathered up a set of protective gear and handed it to the captain, then turned to the other crewmen still standing at attention. "Alright who volunteers as his sparring partner?" At this question no one moved and the proverbial sound of crickets filled the air. No one wanted to be Archer's sparring partner. It wasn't that they disliked the man, quite the opposite. The entire crew felt nothing but respect and admiration for him. The truth was everyone was concerned that if for one second you got in a lucky punch or if perhaps you were actually able to beat him, then it might affect your future ranking or career prospects. The captain had never shown himself to be this petty, but the idea was there all the same.

"Never mind, it's okay, " Captain Archer said, understanding the hesitation before him.

"No it's not," the major interjected. He looked over the crewmen before him and for a moment his eyes fell on Lt. Malcolm Reed. The Lieutenant was the chief of security and one of the best ones in this class. He would be an excellent choice as a sparring partner. It seemed a done deal, but although Maj. Hayes' eyes were on him, what he said was vastly different. "Lt. D'Arcy, you're up."

Without a word Danaë put her head gear back on and stepped forward. The two looked at each other as they took up their positions. The major offered no explanation for his choice, but his reasoning was that he knew she would be a challenge for the captain. Cmdr 'Trip' Tucker leaned close to Reed and the two began wagering dessert rations over who would win. Cmdr. Tucker was well acquainted with his captain's abilities and had seen the man learn how to do things faster and better than those instructing him. Reed would not have doubted the ability of Archer to defend himself, but he had also seen Lt. D'Arcy in action. She was fierce and definitely a force to be reckoned with.

For a few moments the two stared at each other awkwardly. It was strange to suddenly find themselves the center of attention, all eyes on them as they waited to see a fight. Knowing it would be best to get it over with the two opponents took up fighting stances and waited for the signal to begin.

Maj. Hayes blew his whistle, but Captain Archer found that he simply couldn't take the match-up seriously and playfully swung at Danaë as if she needed to be handled with care so she wouldn't get hurt. This attitude was something the Lieutenant couldn't tolerate in the slightest. When he took another light-hearted jab at her, she dropped to the floor and swept both legs out from under him knocking him to the ground on his back with a hard thud. She leaned down as though she were helping him back up, but what the others couldn't see was how she softly whispered in his ear.

" When the Xindi destroy earth, my people will prevail." Repeating the words of the dying alien had the desired effect. She saw the way Archer's eyes narrowed and became dark. She smirked as his own smile vanished and his brow furrowed. Immediately he got to his feet and the fight was on. Although there was no animosity or desire to hurt the other, neither of them was willing to hold back. Blow for blow they seemed well matched. One moment the captain managed to land a blow to her ribs and in the next she caught his arm and brought her foot to his chest. Danaë's favorite tactic was using her diminutive height to her advantage and it had landed her opponent on his ass more than once.