A Stitch In Time

By Matthew Weed
mweed@count51.med.harvard.edu


Date: Wed, 26 Feb 1997

Technical notes:
The following is a cross over between the X-files and Star Trek(original)
universes.  There have been a number of well-written TNG/XF cross overs,
but, so far as I am aware, there hasn't been anything done in the
X-files/ST: genre.  It is, for me at least, an interesting challenge due
to the need to fit the X-files timeline and conditions into the history
that we are given in Star Trek.  Fortunately, with only slight bending,
the job was not as difficult as I had expected.

Originally, I'd planned to look at how the two teams of characters, I.E.
Kirk, McCoy, and Spock, and Mulder and Scully would interact.  However,
as things progressed, it became necessary to alter this plan slightly in
order to move the story to a workable conclusion that would allow it to
live in the Star Trek time line.  Of course, there were some technical
issues, and as a fan of the original series, (and therefore, like many
others of that show, a very picky student of Treknology and history), I
had some careful balancing to do.  Below is a brief discussion of the
time line that I have chosen, which is a combination of that which we see
in TOS, and in ST:VIII: First Contact.  This time line assumes that
Earth's official first contact comes with the Vulcans in 2061, despite
the fact that the old series seems to contradict what is said in the
movie, a rather common occurrance between the old series and TNG.  The
rest of the time line is set in that established in the original series.  
The Vegan Tyranny is taken from a book called _A History of the
Federation_, whose authorship and other copyright data are unknown to
me.  I believe that the Vegan Tyranny is also referred to in an episode
of TOS, but have been totally unable to search out the episode in
question.

There are a few facts and assumptions taken from FASA Corporation's Star
Trek: Tactical Simulator, whose discussions on Treknology are far more
internally consistent than the Sternbach and Okuda _Star Trek: The Next
Generation- Technical Manual_, and so have been used in favor of any
material in that work.  The primary of these is the calculation of warp
factoring, which assumes that warp is calculated as X*^3, or as any
number times the speed of light with that number being raised to the
third power.  I.E. Warp eight is shown as 8^3*C, which is 512C, or 512
times the speed of light.  

ST Spoilers:
Several original series episodes are referred to in this work, but
familiarity with them is far from necessary for a complete understanding
of the action in this work.  They are:  City on The Edge of Forever,
Errand of Mercy, Requiem for Methuselah, Space Seed,  The Changeling, and
The Savage Curtain. 

Thanks:
to many kind people reading
alt.startrek.creative, rec.arts.startrek.fandom, and
rec.arts.startrek.misc,  for help with identifying a couple of these
episodes, whose titles were unknown to me.  A huge Thank you goes to Jan
Morier <right.brain@sk.sympatico.ca> for her help with Scully
characterization and general editorial thoughts.  Any errors that have
"slipped through" are probably the result of my own pass after working in
Jan's changes, so blame *me* not her for any problems that you see.

Copyright statement:
Story copyright Matthew Weed, 1996 and 1997.  All characters in Star Trek
are copyright Paramount Pictures Corp, and those of the X-files to Chris
Carter and 10:13 Productions/Fox TV Corporation.  No copyright
infringement is intended by their use.  Characters in this story not
copywritten by those bodies are copyright 1996 and 1997 to Matthew Weed.

Dedication:
This story is dedicated to the late Mr. Gene Roddenberry, whose vision as
expressed in Star Trek has grown to incredible proportions as it has
grown over the last thirty years, and which has changed the face of
science fiction, and hopefully our society, forever.  Also dedicated to
the late Professor Donald E. Stokes of Princeton University, whose work
on the "science" of Policy, and how policy affects science, will
hopefully bring all of us a little closer to understanding how science
affects our lives, and how those of us who are scientists, can hopefully  
affect the policy that controls more and more of our work.

Ratings:  PG:13 for violence
ATXC archival classification, C, some very minor UST.

Summary:
When another of Mulder's wild goose chases suddenly turns out to be on
target, Scully is thrown into a situation in which the future mirrors the
past, and she learns that knowing the truth can be much worse than being
blissfully ignorant.

For Missing Parts, contact me at this address:
 mweed@count51.med.harvard.edu


--------

A Stitch In Time: Part I.
By Matthew Weed


 
Monday October 28, 1997 exact time unknown.
Outer space, somewhere near Earth
Sunday October 27, 1997 exact time unknown:
A Vulcan Science Service vessel in orbit of Earth.

The mission had gone well, and Commander T'klir was beginning to think
that it was time to set course for Vulcan, which she hoped to achieve
within a quarter of a year as measured on the odd world which they had
orbited for nearly a year, Vulcan standard time.  It was truly incredible
to see how violent these people were, and yet how inventive, inquisitive,
and overtly curious they were, both about themselves, and about the
universe around them.  Since the last visit of a Vulcan vessel to the
planet, some twenty years ago Earth time, the "cold" war that had gripped
the planet had ended,  which meant that a number of large sections of the
world had become distinctly more peaceful, while others had become
increasingly violent.  The humans had launched a number of satellites
capable of doing a great deal of analysis of local and distant space, and
it was only a matter of time before they would learn just how much
potential for the support of  space travel their world had.  When this
time came, probably a century into their future, the Vulcans would be
waiting for them.  However, at the moment, it was time for this group of
scientists to set their minds on getting home.  Unfortunately, other, less
friendly powers were also on the move, and The Vulcans' plans were brought
to a crashing halt by the blast of disrupter fire from the long-necked
ship that appeared for just a moment before its powerful weapons blast
tore into the Vulcan survey craft, beginning its fiery descent into the
cool, water-rich atmosphere below.

*    *    *     

Monday, October 28, 1997, 8:19 AM EDT,
Room 316 in A Howard Johnson's in Honolulu Hawaii.


"...I'm sorry Chuck, but we've got a breaking story coming into the CNN
News center here in Atlanta."  Mulder, who almost never watched CNN was
caught for some reason by the announcement as he flipped through the
channels on the TV in his room.  He never watched the news, after all, he
knew what a sham most of it was, drivel produced by the shadow government
to keep the people from knowing the things that they *should* know.
However, CNN *never* broke into its regular schedule and since he'd been
waiting for the sports scores to come on from the football games on the
continent, he was more than willing to wait a couple of minutes to see
what they had to say.  The drowning of the TV brought him back to the
present as the CNN news center was replaced by a map of the Pacific basin,
with a highlighted ring around the "big island" of Hawaii.

"...According to Defense Department spokesman Martin Leader, a satellite
unexpectedly lost orbit over the Pacific Ocean last night, crashing into
an unpopulated section of the Hawaiian Islands.  He reports that no
civilian casualties were suffered, and that ...."

<Three hours earlier>

Mulder had just finished his run, hoping that it would clear his head
after the capture of the Wikeke Whacker, as the man whom Scully had
arrested earlier in the evening, had become known.  He was a truly nasty
specimen, who had a highly ritualistic manner of killing his victims.  His
methods had left his thirteen victims pleading for a death that he had
been in no hurry to allow.

Had Mulder not been facing the right direction, he probably wouldn't have
seen the explosion, or the steadily descending streak of brilliant light
that moved across the sky, disappearing below the horizon to the northwest
of him.  He had certainly been curious, even then, at the seemingly
controlled nature of the descent, but had put it out of his mind until
future events could draw it back to his attention.

"Holy shit!" he yelled, wrestling into some clothes that would work to get
them to the airport, and onto a charter flight for Helo, the  largest city
on the Island of Hawaii.  "Scully!!!!!!" he yelled, pounding on the door
that connected their rooms.  "Get up, we're headed for the airport,
there's been some kind of crash on the Big Island, and I think it might be
a UFO."

Dana Scully, who had been all-too-glad to get their last case over and
done with, really tried to ignore the pounding on the door, and Mulder's
insistent voice calling her from the first sleep that she'd had in more
than two days.  However, she knew that he wasn't going to go away unless
she told him to, and so she got out of bed and moved to the connecting
door.

"Mulder," she said, it's 2:26 in the morning, and I've not slept in *way*
too long.  What the hell do you want?!"

"Scully, You remember I told you about that meteorite that I saw while I
was out last night?"

"Sure," she said, not believing that he was waking her up over what was
obviously a meteorite.  Even Mulder couldn't be *that* obsessed.

"Well, they just had a report on CNN, the Defense Department said that it
was an old spy satellite, but the track was *way* too controlled for
something like that, and anyway, it should have been announced long before
it was supposed to come down."

"Can't you just for once believe that its a satellite, and not some alien
that we need to go chasing all over the Pacific at this time of the
morning?  I'm tired, let's deal with this later!" she snapped, becoming
well and truly tired of Mulder's theory, <or is it just that I'm well and
truly tired?> she wondered to herself.

"Scully, I'm sure that it wasn't a damaged satellite, no matter what it
was, and I'm off to the airport.  If you want to come along that's great,
but either way, I'm going." said Mulder, his razor-sharp mind coming to a
conclusion and following it to its "logical" end, no matter the fact that
the logic had been come to in leaps, and not in a scientifically logical
manner like that preferred by his partner.

"Mulder, it was a *meteorite*!," she yelled, "and I'm way too tired to
deal with something like this right now.  For god's sake go to bed and
forget about it."

Mulder turned away from her, determined to get to the crash site before
anyone else who might have the authority to deal with ... whatever it was,
did.  If that meant finding Hawaii's equivalent of a bush pilot to get to
the big island in the Hawaiian archipelago, and paying him or her out of
his own pocket, then so be it.

Scully, who knew Mulder's determination to expose the "truth" that aliens
were out there, quickly realized that she had already lost the war, and
might as well do what she could to keep Mulder alive while helping him to
fight his battles.  "Well, I can see that I'm not going to dissuade you,"
Scully grumbled.  "I just hope that this is something good, otherwise I'm
going to put my medical training to good use and put *you* in the
hospital, just so that I know what you're doing."

Mulder's triumphant grin was almost more than she could stand.


*    *    *

Star date 7436.0, quarters of Admiral James T. Kirk, aboard the United
Starship Enterprise.

James Kirk lay fast asleep in the captain's quarters of the ship that he,
and most of the rest of Star Fleet, viewed as his.  The struggle to get
back into space had been hard, and for all he knew, he might have to fight
Heihachiro Nogura, Star Fleet's senior-most admiral in order to stay
there.  However, for the moment, both consciously, and subconsciously, he
was more than ready to enjoy his time away from the paperwork and other
foolishness that seemed to go along with commanding a Federation star
ship.  Unfortunately,  he wasn't destined to rest, a truth brought home by
the blast of noise from the ship's red alert klaxons that effectively
ended his attempt to go to sleep.

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" came ringing through the PA system,
which had been automatically engaged by the ship's ever-vigilant computer.
Within moments, Kirk was wide awake and in contact with the young
lieutenant who was serving as third watch bridge officer while most of the
ship's crew slept.
"What's going on up there Lieutenant?" Kirk demanded, looking at the young
Vulcan woman who responded to his page.

"Admiral, the ship's intruder monitors are reporting an energy-based  life
form on deck 5, near your quarters.  The life signs are extremely strong,
and the computer reports  that there is no recorded pattern that matches
the being's energy flux."

"Understood, call security to officers' country, and make sure that Mr.
Spock, and Dr. McCoy report here too."

"Yes Sir," came from the monitor before Kirk closed the channel.

At this moment, someone signaled at the door of his quarters, and Kirk
moved to answer the door.  When it opened, he was shocked to his core when
his brain supplied the name of the being whostood in the corridor.  

"Ayelborne!" he said, staring at the Organian who had come to speak with
him.  "What are you doing on my ship?" he demanded, knowing that whatever
his business, the alien would not have come unless the situation at hand
were extremely serious.

He knew, better than most Federation commanders the unwillingness of the
Organians to "interfere", in the business of the Federation.  In fact,
since they had forced the Federation and Klingon Empire to accept a
cease-fire some years ago, they had never visited a Federation or Klingon
ship that was not preparing to try, in some small way, to break the
treaty.  The fact that one of their leaders was standing in his doorway
made Kirk increasingly uncomfortable, and he was glad for the diversion
when the alien broke the brief silence that had come over them.  

"Admiral Kirk," said the being, just as Spock and McCoy came racing down
the corridor from opposite directions, "...a very serious situation has
arisen, the danger from which we did not realize until it was too late.
Unfortunately, we are now unable to correct it without your help."

The three Federation officers exchanged shocked looks, and finally McCoy,
who had never met the Organians personally, exploded:  "What the hell do
you mean, *we* have to fix things.  I thought that you were capable of
keeping us mere mortals from causing each other too much harm...."

Ayelborne barely responded to the doctor's loud voice, but when his
response came, it chilled all of them to the bone.

"Doctor McCoy, Mr. Spock is correct in his analysis that you can sometimes
be too emotional.  Unfortunately, although we can keep you from doing
damage to your enemies in this time frame, we were not prepared for the
possibility that they might attempt to do damage to you in the past.  We
know that your Federation has always acted responsibly when sending its
officers back in time, and had not realized that the Klingon Empire had
the ability to travel into the past as well.  So, when it happened, and
the mission proved to be intended to change the history of your Earth, we
received an unpleasant shock."

"Gentlemen," Kirk said quietly, "Let's take this discussion into my
quarters."  McCoy seemed ready to argue the point, until he saw the
growing pack of junior officers that Scotty and Uhura were barely holding
back.

"A wise suggestion Admiral, however, I must tell you that I have very
little time before I must leave you in order to do what I can to maintain
the time frame long enough for you to succeed in your forthcoming
mission."

As soon as the four had slipped into the living/meeting area of his
quarters, Kirk brought the discussion back on focus.

"Well," said Kirk, his shoulders tightening in response to the new
situation, "What *can* you tell me, and why have you told us, rather than
Star Fleet Command?"

"Admiral, I know almost nothing, because we paid little attention to the
activities of your races some three hundred of your years in the past.
Unfortunately for all of us, the ship that carried out this mission did so
with great haste, and possibly with outside assistance as well.  As a
result, we know very little of the ship, and even less of the exact event
in history which they used as a fulcrum in their attempt to destroy your
Federation.

What we do know is that the officers in question have gone rogue, and that
they are aboard one of the Klingons' new  "bird of prey" class vessels.
We know that they have passed back to late October in the year 1997, as
measured on your Earth, and that they have found a way to bring awareness
of alien life to that planet more than sixty years before fate says that
this knowledge should have come to your world.  We believe that they may
have shot down a vessel in the Vulcan Scientific Service, and that its
remains, and possibly those of survivors of the crash, were captured by
the government of the Then-United States of America.  As you know, the
remains of other alien races had already come into the hands of that
state's government, and there were those who tried to make their existence
known to the general population.  Unfortunately, as a result of the
Klingon raid, those working to expose the existence of non-terrestrial
life were successful in this instance."

"Ayelborne, if I may pose a question," Spock said, from where he sat on
one of Kirk's chairs.

"Your questions are always welcomed, Mr. Spock."

"Hm," muttered McCoy, "He sure doesn't mind *your* questions, Spock."

"Doctor, I do not think that your questions are inappropriate, just asked
from an emotional standpoint.  Even you must admit that logical questions
will elicit information with greater rapidity than those posed without
careful consideration."  

Knowing McCoy's likely response, Kirk interrupted his two friends before
one of their verbal sparring matches could erupt.  "I'm sure that we will
have plenty of time to debate the merits of your questions ... later."

"Indeed Admiral, you are correct," said Ayelborne, "Unfortunately, my time
with you is growing short, as we must do all that we can to hold this time
line together long enough for you to go back and repair the damage as best
you can.  ... Mr. Spock had a question."

"That is correct," said Spock.  "As you know, almost all Federation
citizens are aware of the existence of what Earth has come to know as the
"Vulcan watch" or "period of observation".  Are you certain that the ship
in question is Vulcan?"

"We believe that it was a Vulcan craft, but as you know, there were a
number of other races, not least the Vegans, who were interested in Earth
at that time."

"We have little knowledge of those who were at the core of the Vegan
tyranny, only that it existed.  Can you give us any information on these
people so that if it is they for whom we are looking, we will have the
ability to find them quickly once we go back in time?"

"Spock," said Kirk quietly, "I haven't decided to go back yet, I still
want to know why we were contacted directly, rather than going through
Star Fleet channels."

"Admiral, you were chosen because you have the most experience in dealing
with Earth of the past, and your vessel is capable of defeating a bird of
prey without difficulty, should the Klingons try to keep you from
repairing the damage that they do.  Trethane is already in contact with
your Admiral Nogura, and as the request for your vessel comes from us, and
your vessel is not currently on assignment, there will be little
difficulty in convincing him that you were our only acceptable  choice."

"Excellent logic," murmured Spock, only barely aware that he had spoken
his thoughts aloud.

"Ayelborne, when we met the Klingons at Organia, you wanted to avoid
allowing us to do harm to each other.  Why are you now letting us go back
in time, at least partly because we can defeat the Klingon ship?" Kirk
asked, suspecting that he knew the answer.

"Admiral, you must understand, we don't condone violence, either yours, or
that caused by the Klingons.  However, the Klingons have done something
that will kill billions of humans in the alternate future, and this we can
not permit, even at the risk of a loss of life.  If we were able to
control them as we did you the last time, this wouldn't be necessary.  It
is, and that is why we are sending you with our blessings.  The risk to
the peace that currently exists in the galaxy is simply too great to
permit the use of your somewhat cumbersome bureaucracy in making our
request.

Should you not accept this mission, the Klingons will succeed in their
purpose, and it is certain that the societal upheavals resulting from the
Klingons' interference on Earth will result in the collapse of the
civilization on that world.  Furthermore, the Federation will never exist,
and as a result, the Klingons will come to dominate this portion of the
galaxy, a rule that will result in billions of deaths that fate has
decreed are not supposed to occur."

The stunned silence in Kirk's quarters was broken by Spock, who due to his
superior emotional control, was able to recover from what Ayelborne had
said before the others had fully processed it.  

"Admiral," Spock said quietly, "I believe that we must go back,
Ayelborne's reasons are flawlessly logical, and minimize the possible harm
to life that can come of these events."

Kirk, who immediately trusted Spock's analysis, quickly turned to more
important matters.  "You said that you can do nothing to affect the past,
so I expect that you're not going to be able to help?"  

"No, I must stay here, so that I may lend my energies to our effort to
maintain the time line long enough for you to deflect the changes that
have been wrought, for if you fail, there will be no United Federation of
Planets, and we will not have sufficient awareness of the proper path of
time to attempt another correction through other means."

"Very well, do you have any suggestions as to where we should try to go
back in time, it'll be risky to try warping back to the end of the
twentieth century in Sol system, ... Earth already had too many ways of
knowing what was going on in local space for us to try it with a ship of
this size."

"Try St. Peter's star," said Ayelborne as his image wavered and
disappeared.

*    *    *

Monday, October 28, 1997 8:30 AM, EDT
Office of "Cancer man" Somewhere in Washington DC.

"What do you mean our nearest retrieval team is in California?  I would
have thought that you people would be sufficiently competent to know that
it's just as likely to have something land in the Mid Pacific as it is in
the Western states.  In fact, many of the people with whom I deal would
*rather* land out there, simply because there's a much better chance of
concealing their trash in twenty thousand feet of water than in a desert."

The voice on the other end of the phone made its typical excuses and told
him that, if everything went according to plan, they would be the first of
the interested parties at the crash site.  Of course, even if  the team
assigned to Hawaii, Guam, and the other mid-Pacific islands had been on
scene rather than on leave, it would still have taken time to get from
their base to the crash site.  However, since the crash had occurred in a
national park, Cancer man figured that the park rangers could keep things
more or less clear for a while, and the appropriately placed threats would
ensure that none of them told what they might or might not have seen.
However, he was a fervent believer in Murphy's law, and as he reached to
grab the phone after its second ring, he was all-too-clearly reminded of
this fact.

"Sir, its Jenkins, I've got information here that says that Agents Mulder
and Scully are in Hawaii just finishing up a serial killing case.  If
we've got a real situation on our hands, we'd probably better be ready to
handle Mulder, along with any of the normal crazies that always seem to be
attracted by this kind of news."

"Damn!" Cancer man grumbled, "Well, just make damned sure that our team
gets out there before Mulder can get to the site, if necessary fly them
out on navy jets or Aurora.  If Mulder gets out there first, we could be
looking at a class one failure in our security apparatus, and I don't want
to remind you what will happen if *that* occurs.", he said, shying away
from thoughts of the disastrous effects of such an occurrance only moments
after his reminder to his subordinate.

"<gulp> Uh, yes sir.  I'll start making arrangements with the Navy right
away, half the team is already on a transport, but I think we can get the
rest of them out to Honolulu by about 7:30 AM Hawaii time, and then it'll
be a simple helicopter flight to the impact site."

"Very good, report your progress, and please don't let me down," replied
Cancer man before slamming the phone down.  Now, maybe he could get that
idiot Skinner to recall his agents before they could hear too much about
all of this.     

*    *    *

"Now entering far-earth Orbit," came Hikaru Sulu's quiet announcement as
enterprise decelerated sharply from high-warp speed.

"Good Job, Sulu," Kirk said before turning his attention to his science
officer and friend.  "Spock, can you get an estimate of the date?"

"An estimate will take some time Captain, Ms. Uhura is monitoring the mass
media of the time, and there will doubtless be a delay in generating an
accurate estimate of our current location in the time stream.  However, I
note that there is a Vulcan science vessel in high orbit, and that we
should work to stay in the planet's relative censor shadow."

"Why Spock," demanded McCoy who, as always happened when there was nothing
going on in sick bay that required his attention, had gravitated to the
bridge and was in his accustomed place, leaning against the back of the
Captain's chair.  "After all, if we're there, we can probably intimidate
the Klingons into going away."

"Doubtful Doctor," replied Spock.  "The risk to the time stream is great
in either case.  The Klingons are doubtless determined to carry out their
mission, and a knowledge of our existence might well change the course of
Vulcan's development, which might damage the time stream as seriously as
the Klingon interference has."

"So Spock,  you're sayin' that we can't even protect the Vulcans from the
Klingons?"

"No Doctor, although I believe that such protection may well prove to be
beyond our capability if we are to avoid exposing the Vulcans of this time
to our technology." replied Spock.

"Gentlemen, I need alternatives, so pull any resources that you need to
come up with a way to keep the Klingons from doing ... whatever they
intend to do."

"As I am sure you are aware sir, it would be very helpful to know what the
Klingons intend to do.  Without this knowledge, avoiding the almost
infinite number of possible scenarios will be very difficult," Spock said.

"I know Spock, but we don't have many alternatives, and probably not much
time either, so we'll just have to come up with something and make it
work." replied Kirk,  whose confidence came from the knowledge that this
crew had worked together to solve problems that were far more hopeless
than this one appeared to be.

*    *    *

"My lord, we are now in orbit of Earth, 350 Kalikams aft-starboard of the
Vulcan craft.  We will be able to fire as soon as the computer is clear to
switch power from the cloaking device to weapons."

"Very well lieutenant, notify me when our preparations are complete.  It
is a great day when, with one shot, we can destroy the Federation for all
time." said Commander Klar, an anticipatory gleam coming into his usually
expressionless eyes.

*    *    *

"Admiral, I have confirmed time coordinates, we are now in late October,
1997, at the exact point which Trethane's report to Admiral Nogura says
that time was disrupted." Spock's voice reported over Kirk's desk
intercom.

"Fine Spock," put the ship on red alert," said Kirk, suspecting that
whatever was going to occur would happen soon.

*    *    *

"My lord, we are ready to fire,"

"Switch all power to forward disrupters, disengage cloaking device!"

Two and a half seconds later, Klar saw that his ship was ready.

"Pach!" he cried.  Moments later, the ship's disrupter bolt tore through
the small Vulcan research ship, beginning its fiery descent into the
atmosphere of the planet below.  

"My lord! Federation battle cruiser moving to fire on us, it's the
Enterprise!" cried his helm officer just before the larger ship's bolt of
high-powered  phaser fire ripped through the ship's engineering section,
rendering it dead in space.  Moments later, as it had been set to under
such circumstances, the Klingon bird of Prey exploded, causing a brilliant
fireball over the northern Pacific Ocean.

*    *    *

"Mr. Chekhov, I thought that you were to cripple, not destroy the target,"
Kirk said quietly, his voice carrying only a small hint of disappointment,
after all, he had expected these Klingons to die rather than be captured.

"Sair, I believe that the Klingon wessel was booby trapped," said Chekhov.
"I'm sure that our fire shouldn't have destroyed them."

" Admiral, I have confirmed Mr. Chekhov's conjecture," Spock said turning
from his instruments.  "I have reviewed our sensor logs from the
decloaking phase of the Klingon attack, and it is more than 98% certain
that they had impact actuated charges connected to their main power
source."

"All right, Spock," said Kirk quietly.  "Can we track the ship that they
fired on?"

"Affirmative sir, however, it will be impossible to prevent an impact on
the planet's surface, the vessel's descent is generating unusually high
levels of radiation that are interfering with sensors and will prevent
tractor lock."

"What about the transporters?"

"Unfortunately, transporter function is also being interfered with.  From
telescopic views alone, I am now projecting an impact in the Hawaiian
Island chain in approximately four minutes.  I suggest that we take up a
geosynchronous orbit over that region so that we may affect a rescue and
removal of the remains of the craft with alacrity, once it has achieved
landfall."

"Mr. Sulu, set course, one quarter impulse power.  Mr. Chekhov, increase
the frequency defraction of the shields in case we need to get closer to
the surface.  Maintain stand-by on weapons, and bring the ship to yellow
alert."

"Aye Sir," replied the two younger officers from their positions at the
front of the bridge.

*    *    *

October 27, 1997, 3:30 EDT:
A two-person ultra light somewhere over the lower slopes of Mauna Loa,
Hawaii.

"Mulder, would you watch where you're flying?" Scully yelled, still amazed
that she had let her partner drag her out here on what she was still
convinced was a wild goose chase.  The fact that they were sitting in
something that was effectively a powered hang glider didn't do her any
good either, and she was looking forward to getting her feet back on the
ground.

"Scully, don't worry about it, I've been doing this on and off for years,
the problem is that when you're out of town so much, it's hard to keep up
with your skills.  I think that it's a great way to get away from things
from time to time, and these things are perfect for getting into places
that are hard to access from the ground."

"So you're telling me that you learned how to fly one of these things in
order to have a "better" way to get to suspected UFO crash sites that
you'd otherwise have had trouble accessing?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well, that wasn't my original idea in learning how, and I've never used
an ultra light for this before, but it *is* a handy and comparatively
cheap way of getting into the back country, considering that I don't have
the money for a helicopter."

"Right," Scully sighed, deciding to sit back and, to the degree that she
could, enjoy the ride.

Some minutes later, as the engine drowned on behind them, she felt the
small machine begin to shake and roll in response to the rapidly darkening
sky.

"Mulder, shouldn't we land and wait out the storm?" she asked, her eyes
darting nervously toward the clouds above them.

"We're about ten miles from where the guy that I rented this thing from
said that he'd heard the "satellite" had crashed.  I think that we'll be
able to get close to the site before the storm hits."

"I hope you're right, because if we crash, and both survive, I'm going to
make sure that you regret having brought me along on this wild goose
chase." she threatened, her voice unusually resolute.

"Well Scully, at least you won't be doing anything out of the ordinary,"
he said with a wide grin.

The look that she gave him would have scared him, had he not seen, off to
their right, a large section of forest that was still emitting puffs of
smoke from a fire that had clearly burned itself out very recently.

"Scully, I think that I've got it, I'll find a place to land and we can
check this out."

"Good," she said.  "Since it'll be a satellite, I'll make you take me out
to dinner at the best place in DC when we get back."

"If it's a satellite, I'll do that, and clean the office too," he said,
now truly afraid that his hunch was wrong, and that he would be faced with
losing a weekend to organizing the enormous, and to everyone except him,
utterly disorganized filing system that dominated every open space in
their small basement office.

Before she could respond, he had banked the small aircraft to the right,
and began looking for a clearing large enough to land the machine in.

*    *    *

October 27, 1997 2100 hours GMT
Starship Enterprise, geosynchronous orbit.

"Admiral, the landing party is ready to transport to the surface," came
Spock's quiet voice over Kirk's desk communicator.

"Good," said Kirk as he rose and headed for his door.

When Admiral James T. Kirk entered the transporter room, he had to
suppress a grin at the odd party that stood before him.  All of them were
in camouflage wear designed by ship's stores according to the military
standards of the late twentieth century.  Only he, Kirk, wore regular
military dress for the time, choosing to go as a captain in the United
States Navy.  Hopefully this little subterfuge would delay any military or
civilian authority who might be on the scene long enough for Enterprise'
landing party to determine how best to get the wrecked ship off of the
planet.  After the wreck was moved into orbit, it would be up to
Enterprise's engineering staff to repair it so that the ship could be sent
back to Vulcan.  Depending on the condition of both ship and crew, the
ship would be sent to Vulcan under automation.  However, if the crew was
in fairly good shape, they might be able to release it, and after
Enterprise had escaped in order to prevent contamination of the time
stream,  allow them to  pilot it home by themselves.  Hopefully another
Vulcan craft would pick up their distress signal and be able to take ship
and crew back to their home world.  It wasn't a great plan, but they all
knew that they had to get the ship back to its planet of origin as no
significant losses had been recorded by the Vulcan space service during
the late twentieth century on Earth, or anywhere else in Vulcan's known
galaxy at this point in time.

Although there was no proof aside from Ayelborne's word, Kirk was
instinctively sure that the problem in time was related to Earth, not
Vulcan, and so most of his effort had been focused on finding out what he
could about the actors that might play a role in any major event that
might be related to the wrecked craft that, by all rights, should not be
there.  On the one hand, there were a number of interesting groups related
to a number of the governments of the time.  The Consortium, a secret
organization dedicated to covering up the "secret" contacts that Earth had
already had with various near-by civilizations was probably the most
important of these groups.  On the "expose the truth" side were groups
like MUFON and Nicap, and a pair of agents in something called the Federal
Bureau of Investigation, who seemed to be heavily involved in such
matters.  Well, he, James Kirk, would have to to ensure, through both
direct intervention, and if necessary, covert communication with the
consortium, that the existence of this Vulcan ship would remain unknown to
the people at large.  Earth was not ready for this knowledge, and would
not be for another ... 64 years.


--------
A Stitch In Time: II
By Matthew Weed


4:13 PM EST, Monday October 28, 1997
Office of Cancer man.

"This had better be good!" he snapped into the phone that lay on the
right hand edge of his desk, a phone that had only rung three times in
the twenty years that he had occupied this particular post.

"Sir, we have faint indications of a very large object orbiting the
planet at approximately 30,000 km standard, holding geosynchronous orbit
over Hawaii."

"How are you picking the object up?"

"...the borrowed technology sir," replied the voice, showing the first
hint of true fear that he had ever heard in it.  Not that he could blame
the younger man, after all, this was the first time in twenty years that
the DEW line and other defenses which had been built based on technology
from Earth alone,  had been defeated by any of the powers that
occasionally visited the planet.  Of course, civilians hadn't been
allowed to have any knowledge of these "recorded visitations" until
recently, and even then only a minor fraction of the number that actually
occurred.

"Fine," he said, sighing deeply.  Clearly this wreck in Hawaii was far
more important than he had thought, and he had already ascribed
importance to it equal to that which his predecessor's predecessor had
put on the Roswell incident.  "Do we have any guess as to size and intent?"

"Sir, we estimate a craft of approximately 1,000 feet in length, four to
five-hundred a beam, and of unknown depth.  I would say that it has at
least fifty times the volume of anything that we've ever seen before, and
it's getting better at deflecting the scans from our borrowed equipment.  
I give them half an hour and they'll be totally invisible to anything
short of the space shuttle crashing into them head on."

"All right," he said, "we need to secure the area so that whomever is
responsible up there can do whatever they need to with the wreck.  If
they don't make a move on it in forty eight hours, we'll clear it to area
51, or send it out to be dumped in the Marianas Trench."

"...Um, yes sir." the other man said.

"What *else* is wrong?" he demanded, knowing full well that this man, at
least, never got stressed unless there was a damned good reason for it.

"Well, sir. ... Its Agents Mulder and Scully, sir."

"What!" he roared, already suspecting what he was about to hear, and not
caring that Skinner, that ex-marine and increasingly large pain in the
ass, might hear him yelling through the doors that separated their offices.

"They've gone missing sir." the other said.  "The last time we had them
was in Helo about two hours ago, they were getting ready to take a
two-person ultra-light....."

"Goddamnit!!!!!" roared Cancer man, now knowing that Mulder, whom he
*had* protected despite what the foolish young man thought, was headed
for either a quick death by gunfire, or a long, slow, and tortuous death
at the hands of one of the alien powers that occasionally took
people--not including his sister despite what Mulder thought--and used
them in experiments that no one should have to live through.

"Well, let's start getting stories put together about how they died,
etc., we must, minimally, give their families some peace."

"Yes Sir, I'd already thought about that, we'll have something cooked up
if we need it."

"Don't worry, we'll need it, no matter how this thing comes out...." he
said quietly and slammed the phone down before the other could hear the
sadness in his voice.

*    *    *

Monday October 28, 1997 10:15 PM GMT
 somewhere on the "big island" of Hawaii.

"Landing party to Enterprise," Kirk said into his communicator, "We're
down and there don't seem to be any natives of this time in the area.  
I'll keep you up-to-date on what's going on down here if I can Spock, but
there's a storm coming in, and with the subspace interference from the
crash, communications may prove difficult."

"Understood, sir." replied the Vulcan from the bridge.  "We are scanning
no activity in your area, although as you know, there was one small
aircraft which disappeared from scanners some fifteen minutes ago.  Due
to interference from the storm and the wreck, exact readings are
impossible, however, I  believe that the craft landed safely, which may
suggest that you will have to deal with an unknown number of curiosity
seekers at some point in the future."

"Understood," said Kirk, who knew that such things happened when things
like this occurred on other worlds, so why not Earth of the "past" as
well?  "If they come, we'll arrest them and figure out how to get them
away from here," he said glibly, in an attempt to cover the fact that he
hoped that the storm would keep others away until they could remove the
wrecked ship from its current resting place.

"Very well, sir." said Spock.  "I shall continue monitoring the
situation, and will report to you should any of the major groups that we
expect to become active in this situation move on your position."

"If we're lucky Spock, they won't," said Kirk, snapping his communicator
closed before the eyebrow that his comment had doubtless raised could be
translated into words.

During their conversation, Kirk, Scott, McCoy, and a double handful of
security and engineering personnel had spread out hoping to find an
obvious way into the largely intact scout vessel.  Unfortunately, the
external hatches seemed to be closed and as there was still too much
residual heat and radiation in the area, their tricorders could not tell
them if any of the crew were alive.

*    *    *

Monday October 28, 4:20 PM EDT,
Somewhere on the "Big" Island of Hawaii.

"Well Scully, it's pretty clear that someone's already gotten to the
wreck," said Mulder, who was staring at the alien ship with a combination
of awe and fear on his face.  Although he'd always believed that aliens
were real, and had seen some in the past, he'd never seen a ship this
close up, and it was definitely a bit unsettling to see just how big, and
well-constructed, the things apparently were.

"Well Mulder, I think that I'll have to owe you for that dinner if we get
back," said Scully, trying a sarcastic comment of her own to break the
tension that they both felt.  Unfortunately, Mulder was more practiced at
it than she was, and her words did little to make either of them feel better.

"Since they're already there, we might as well go and stake a claim for
the FBI," said Mulder, his excitement at the chance to get real proof of
the existence of aliens  sweeping aside the fear that he had felt moments
earlier.  Before she could stop him, Mulder was up and walking toward the
man in the navy captain's uniform who appeared to be in charge of the
situation.  All that Scully could do was move to follow him, and hope
that this group of men ... and women!, she realized with a small shock,
would be friendlier than many of the people that they had met before when
there had been evidence of the existence of aliens there for the taking.

"Excuse me sir," said Mulder, who was at least trying to be civil with
the man whom he'd approached closely enough to allow easy conversation.  
"I'm Agent Mulder, FBI, and I'm here to have a look at the crash site."

<damn!> thought Kirk as he looked at the slightly taller man who stood
before him.  Not only had one of the people who he least wanted to see
just landed in the middle of the site, but he'd already had a very good
look at the Vulcan surveyor.

"Agent Mulder," Kirk said quietly, "I'm pleased to finally meet you.  
Unfortunately, as you know very well, this situation is not any concern
of the FBI, as your agency has very little to do with this particular
branch of national security.  We are with the Naval Investigative
Service, and will be holding the site until such time as representatives
of the NSA can secure both the site, and this ... object for further study."

"Captain ...."

"Kirk"

"Captain Kirk," Mulder said, his voice already becoming belligerent as he
prepared to fight for his right to get access to the evidence that he
would need to blow the government's involvement with the aliens wide
open,  "I have no intention of leaving this area as the FBI has more than
sufficient jurisdiction to allow my partner and I  the right to remain here."

"I see," said Kirk, who knew that his knowledge of the agencies of the
United States Government of this time was insufficient to ensure success
in keeping the man from causing a lot of trouble.  However, there were
other methods of ensuring his silence, methods that would unfortunately
involve his vessel in the politics and other problems of this time far
more deeply than he had hoped would be necessary.

He turned away to look for one of his security people, and was more than
surprised when an obviously female scream split the air.

*    *    *  

Meanwhile, Scully had been moving quietly through the undergrowth, hoping
to get closer to what even she had to admit was, without doubt, an alien
star craft.  She made damned sure to stay within eyesight of Mulder, but
thought that she might be able to serve  their purposes by trying to get
access to the ship by stealth, while Mulder tried the blunt approach.  As
a result of her superior position, she was the only one who saw the
carefully camouflaged man who had been assembling a high-powered sniper
rifle and who was now taking aim at her partner's chest.  She began
running toward Mulder and almost forgot to scream a warning to him.  
Unfortunately for both of them, her cry came moments too late.

The crack of the rifle took all of the Enterprise crew by surprise, and
Kirk was barely able to throw himself to the ground before Mulder's body,
a large and rapidly growing spot of blood on his chest, fell on top of
him.  Quickly enough, the security team was spreading out, phasers at the
ready, hoping to intercept their unknown attacker before he could do any
more harm.

Kirk shifted out from under Mulder and saw a short, red-haired woman
racing toward them both, with McCoy coming in from a different angle.  It
looked like the redhead would win the impromptu race to save Mulder's
life.  However, Kirk could see that this "victory" would cost her dearly
if the fear that was clearly written on her face was any measure of the
emotions that she was feeling as a result of what she had seen.  He
stepped aside, not wanting to get in either her way, or that of the
on-rushing McCoy.

"Mulder!" Scully cried again, immediately recognizing that the wound was
serious, hoping that it would not be so bad as to prevent them from
getting away from the party of men and women who were, even now, moving
to try to secure the area.

She got no response from her partner, and covered the distance to his
side more quickly than she would have believed possible for her short
stature.  She saw a taller, older man hastening to him as well, and hoped
that he wouldn't try to get in her way.  She fell to Mulder's side and
immediately began tearing away the shirt that was becoming far too wet
with blood for her liking.  When she saw the wound, she was barely able
to keep from breaking down.  Fortunately, the bullet hadn't--so far as
she could see--struck anything particularly vital, but the massive blood
loss, characteristic of a chest wound, would clearly kill him before she
could get him to the nearest hospital, whether the other people on the
scene interfered with her or not.

A shadow fell over the two of them, and her peripheral vision told Scully
that the older man whom she had previously seen running toward Mulder was
now waving some strange instrument over him, its purpose and effect
totally unknown, and in all reality, insignificant to her.  His voice,
when he finally spoke was concerned, however it held none of the gravity
that she felt appropriate to the situation.

"Jim, he's in pretty bad shape, but if we can beam him up to the ship, I
can get him patched up in time."

"Bones, we can't just go around beaming people from this century up to
the ship without any thought." replied another voice, which Scully
recognized as familiar without giving much thought to its owner.

"Jim, he'll die if we don't do something soon.  Although the wound isn't
life threatening, the blood loss is, and whoever she is, she'll never get
him to one of their hospitals before he dies."

The two voices receded into the background, as Scully frantically tried
to slow the massive bleeding in her partner's chest without the benefit
of the bag of tricks that she'd learned to bring along whenever she was
in the field with Mulder.

While Scully continued to try to save Mulder's life, Kirk and McCoy moved
far enough away to ensure privacy for their conversation.

"Bones, he's from three hundred years in our past, and if we beam him
aboard, then we'll see the ship, and since I'm sure that you didn't read
Spock's briefing, I'll tell you that the damage to the time line from
*that* would be even more serious than just leaving this wreck here for
whomever to discover."

"Jim, How do you know that he's supposed to die now?"  McCoy demanded,
his voice achieving the belligerent tone that Kirk associated with his
friend's "Doctor" persona.

"How long does he have before you won't be able to do anything?" Kirk
asked, reaching for his communicator.

"About five minutes, given transit time from the transporter room to
sick-bay," said McCoy, who guessed what Kirk was planning, and who hoped
that Spock would give him a way to save the life that was, literally,
pouring out of the prostrate man some twenty feet from where he stood.

"Kirk to Enterprise,"

"Enterprise, Spock here."

"Spock, Unfortunately, our friends in the small aerial vehicle did manage
to find the crash site, and one of them has been seriously wounded by a
party or parties as yet unknown.  I need to know whether we should beam
him aboard so that McCoy can treat his injuries."

"As I am sure you are aware Admiral, it would be of assistance to know
the identity of the injured person," Spock said, his voice at its most
neutral.

"It's Agent Mulder from the FBI," said Kirk, who was torn between a
desire to hear that the man lying before him could die, and the equally
fierce desire to avoid having to make a decision that would cost a man
his life.

"Admiral, it is not necessary to consult our records on this matter, both
Agent Mulder, and his partner, Agent Dana Scully are critical to this
time line, and will continue to be so for many years into the future."

"All right Spock," Kirk said, have Sick bay send medics to the
transporter room, and stand by for emergency recall of Dr. McCoy and an
injured party."

"Understood, sir," Spock said before cutting the connection from his end.

"All right, doctor, it's your show, you can beam him up, but he'd damned
well better not see any more of the ship than is absolutely necessary."

"Don't worry about it, Jim, most of the work can be done while he's
sedated.  If I'm careful, he'll never know that he was off-planet." said
McCoy who was already hastening toward his patient.

*    *    *

The Enterprise's CMO moved past Scully, who was still leaning over her
partner trying desperately to slow the flood of bright red blood that was
pouring out of his chest.  McCoy knew, as she could not, that although
there had been a nick to the pulmonary circulatory system, and some
damage to the lungs, that Mulder's injuries--in and of themselves--were
not life threatening.  What they *did* agree on, without even having had
the chance to speak on the matter, was that Mulder would die of blood
loss before his other injuries could do him in.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but I'm going to have to take him if his life's going
to be saved." McCoy said as he drew level with Scully.

"I don't know who you are," Scully said coldly while still working over
her dying partner, "but I'm not going to let any of you bastards have
him, and he'll be dead before you can do anything anyway."

"Well," McCoy said, growing frustrated, but seeing that emotional
outbursts wouldn't get him anywhere, "...I don't suppose that you've
considered that I may be able to do things that you can't?"

"Unless you're a damned good doctor with an operating room within five
minutes of here, you're not going to be able to do anything that I can't,
since I am a doctor, and *I* don't have access to such a facility."

"As a matter of fact," said McCoy, his temper rising with each word, "I
*am* a pretty good doctor, and if you'll stop getting in my way, I *can*
get him to a surgical facility in a hell of a lot less than five minutes."

"How?" Scully asked, her body shaking with a combination of fear and hope.

"I'm really not permitted to say," McCoy said, wishing that he could do
more to comfort the small woman who was still, desperately, trying to
save her friend's life.

Her face went from its odd combination of fear and hope to pure anger in
a second, and before McCoy, Kirk, or any of  the officers who had
collected to provide protection and watch the unfolding drama could
react, her gun was in her hands and pointing at the doctor's head.

"I'd rather let him die than let you bastards experiment on him." she
cried, her finger visibly tightening on the trigger.

Kirk, who saw Scotty move his hand for his phaser waved him down, knowing
that a stun blast from the weapon would not affect the woman before she
could shoot the doctor with her archaic weapon.

"Look here, little lady," said McCoy, his southern charm turned off and
replaced with all of the harshness that people resident of the Southern
United States could bring to what they did when they set their minds to
it, "I'm not goin' to experiment on him, and if you put that thing away,
I may be able to save his life."

Scully had noticed the commander of the group wave off someone who had
been standing behind her, and began to wonder whether she could trust
them with something that she herself hadn't the skill or resources to
protect.

"I don't trust you at all, "doctor,"" she said, "but I don't think that I
have much of a choice."

"I'm glad that you're seein' things my way," McCoy said, his attitude
becoming less angry and more intense.

"But," she said, "I'm coming with you."

"You can't," cried McCoy, his frustration and concern over the time that
he was losing resurfacing with a rush.

"He's my partner," she said quietly, "and the government's tried too many
things to make me believe that your intentions are pure."

"Jim!" McCoy cried, staring at Kirk, "I can keep him under, but if she
comes aboard conscious,...." his voice trailed away, the implications of
the statement all-too-clear to all of the personnel there, save Scully.

"I don't see that we've got much of a choice, Bones." Kirk replied
quietly, "...you know that we can't stun her before she can fire."

McCoy sighed, knowing that Kirk was right, and also knowing that the
survival of *this* patient was critical to many billions of as-yet unborn
federation citizens.

"All right," he said, I'll call for beam-up."

"What!" Scully said, not understanding what she had heard.

"No time to explain," McCoy said, whipping out his communicator and
informing the Enterprise that there would now be three to be brought aboard.

"Three doctor?" Lt. Rand's voice came back through his communicator.

"Yes Lieutenant, *three* to beam aboard, these coordinates."  Scully, who
had been watching McCoy closely as he spoke with whomever was on the
other end of the transmission did not see him touch the small button on
the side of the communicator that told Both Lieutenant Rand and Spock
that there was more to this situation than just an odd number of people
being brought aboard.

"Yes, sir." she replied before the transporter's effect caught them, her
voice showing none of the tension that had gripped her when she realized
what the problem must be.

As per standard procedure when a situation on the ground had become
unstable, Rand set the transporter for delayed rematerialization until
such time as security personnel could get to the transporter room.  When
the doors burst open some seconds later, she was surprised to see Spock
at the head of the security detachment that quickly fanned out to protect
both Rand and the medical team that awaited the doctor's return.

"Ms. Rand, which pads will be occupied by the doctor and the injured
party?" Spock demanded.

"Sir, The doctor's on pad one, the injured man is unconscious and is
being beamed up from a prone position.  He will occupy pads two and
three.  The third, unknown, person will be on pad four."

"Very well, commence rematerialization," Spock said, moving to a position
from which he could reach anyone standing on the fourth of the six
transporter diodes that made up this room's primary equipment.

As soon as she was sure that he had moved into the proper position, Rand
ordered the transporter to rematerialize the landing party, and crossed
her fingers.

The effect of the transporter was far beyond anything that Scully had
ever experienced.  At first the scene around her had faded into a wash of
colors and to a sense of being, in some way, not quite whole.  Then a new
place began to appear around her, white walled with a console of some
kind in front of the raised platform on which she stood along with
Mulder, The "doctor", and ... someone else.

When she turned her head to see who was standing beside her, she got a
quick glimpse of pointed ears, angular eyebrows, and greenish skin before
the man's hand clamped onto the junction between her neck and shoulder
causing her to lose consciousness before she could get any more
impressions of the strange new place to which she had been brought.


--------
A Stitch In Time: III
By Matthew Weed
Summary and disclaimers in part 0.

Thursday October 29, 1997 12:15 AM GMT
The Starship Enterprise in Geosynchronous orbit over Hawaii

James T. Kirk sat at the head of the briefing table in the E-deck
conference room, thinking over the events of the past few hours.  All
things considered, the situation wasn't as bad as it could be, although,
he thought, it could be a damned sight better too.  They had found the
Vulcan craft and were preparing it for salvage.  The horrific weather
that had moved into the Hawaiian Island archipelago soon after their
arrival on the crash site had kept most of the UFO seekers away,  and
from what Spock could tell, the American government was doing the rest.  
However, the two people who *had* managed to get to the site in time
were, so far as Enterprise's voluminous records--and Spock's equally
capacious memory-- could tell them, the worst possible people to have to
deal with in such a situation.  Fox Mulder, an agent in the Federal
Bureau of Investigation, and agency of the government of the nation-state
then known as The United States of America, was the most committed, most
highly placed, and most tenacious of all of the people currently trying
to figure out whether those on Earth were truly "alone" in the universe
as their governments were still trying to convince them.  Of course they
weren't, but this wasn't, as yet, something that Earth's population was
ready to know.

Fortunately for the officials forced to keep this secret, Mulder was too
"spooky" for his own good.  A combination of the cases that he
investigated, and his generalized unwillingness to play the political
games inherent in all large bureaucracies, kept him from being the
terrible threat to current-day planetary security that he might otherwise
have been.  His partner, Dana Scully, was another matter entirely.

The woman was, like her partner, brilliant, determined, a talented
investigator, and critical to Earth's near-term future.  However, unlike
her partner, she was, at least insofar as current-day medical training
would allow, scientific, logical, and extremely credible.  Unfortunately
for his peace of mind, Kirk had both of them aboard the Enterprise.

Mulder was still down in sick-bay, recovering from a serious gunshot
wound, a process that, when he had called McCoy to get a preliminary
report to prepare for this briefing, he was told would take "as long as
it takes Jim, and I'd bet that it'll be a while."

Scully was sleeping off the effects of one of Spock's more determined
nerve pinches, a process that, Kirk knew from personal experience, would
take quite some time in itself.  McCoy would keep Mulder under until they
were ready to send him back, but unless they chose to do the same thing
with Scully, they would soon have a class-A problem to deal with, if her
reaction to Mulder's injuries was any sign.  Not to mention the risk to
the time stream that having a conscious woman from the twentieth century
wandering about on his ship would pose.

He sat back waiting for McCoy to join the rest of the senior staff,
knowing that the doctor would not come until he was sure that his patient
would survive the tender mercies of the staff physician on duty, no
matter that the "staff physician" for this case was Christine Chapel, the
"second best doctor I've ever seen," as McCoy had once said.  In response
to Spock's raised eyebrow, the doctor had immediately covered by snapping
that "Well Spock, T'klarn *is* a Vulcan, and a damned good doctor too.  
She even knows how to handle human patients".

As Kirk remembered it, Spock had promised to speak with the woman
immediately, given that learning how to handle human patients might be
the basis for a method for use with their doctors.  However, before he
could think back on McCoy's response to the barb, the man in question
entered the briefing room, and this meeting, one of the most critical in
Federation history, came to order.

"Sorry that I'm late, Jim." said McCoy peremptorily as he slipped into
his customary chair.

"Well, Bones, since you're the cause for the delay, why don't you give
your report first."

McCoy stretched for a moment, collecting his thoughts.  "Agent Mulder is
in sick-bay, after getting a transfusion to replace the blood lost as a
result of his injury.  He's suffered a severe wound to the chest, caused
by a high-velocity impacter.  The bullet tore through his pulmonary
artery, and then glanced off of his ribs finally ending up in the right
lung, which collapsed shortly after beam-up.   Considering the sedation,
he'll need at least ten days before I feel ready to release him.  It'll
take me that long to ensure that scarring and other signs of the wound
are sufficiently minimal to give him a better than average chance of
passing through current-day medical examinations without any risk of
their realizing that he's been injured.  Fortunately, he's had a lot of
other injuries which will help cover the internal scarring from this
one.  Only a good doctor with solid knowledge of his medical history will
be able to tell that there's something wrong, and I doubt that they'd be
able to prove it."

"I hate to spend so long in the past, can you speed his recovery along?"

"If I could take him out from under sedation it would cut a couple of
days off of his recovery time, but according to Spock, we can't risk his
becoming conscious.  Something about the possible damage to the time
stream being "unacceptably great"," said McCoy mimicking the delivery
which Spock had used during their lengthy argument in Sick-Bay after
Mulder--and therefore McCoy--had come out of surgery.

"Are you sure of all of this, Spock?" Kirk demanded, turning sharply to
face his first officer.

"Admiral, Mr. Mulder is the foremost investigator of what the late
twentieth century called unexplained phenomena.  As such, he would
certainly be interested in proving the existence of aliens, something
that he could easily do if he became conscious while aboard.  The fact
that his sister was, to his knowledge of this time, abducted by aliens
will only increase his determination to use the crash of the Vulcan
survey vessel, or the existence of this vessel, to force the governments
of the time to admit that Earth has already had contact with alien powers."

"But Mr. Spock, so far as I knew, the first contact with aliens came in
2045 in the Alpha Centauri system," said Commander Uhura.

"Ms. Uhura, that is the accepted history as taught in the Federation's
educational system, however, there are records, both on Vulcan and in
secured storage on Earth which indicate interaction between the major
powers of Earth, and a number of alien powers beginning as early as the
late Nineteenth Century."

"Why wouldna they ha' declassified that kind of thing by now?" Scotty
asked.

"Mr. Scott, I am uncertain as to the reasons behind the lack of
disclosure on Earth, however, the Vulcan scientific service has continued
deep space activities in parallel with Starfleet Command, and some of
these activities relate back to evidence collected several centuries ago
when Vulcan's current research methodology had not yet been developed.  
Unfortunately, there is a faction on Vulcan which believes that if this
data were to become generally available, that serious damage might be
done to Vulcan's current-day diplomatic position in the Federation."

"What could be so bad that the Vulcans would choose not to disclose
things that happened centuries ago?" wondered Uhura.

"Unfortunately, Ms. Uhura, I have never seen the data in question, and so
am unable to speculate."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, though this is an interesting question, it doesn't
bear on our current problems.  Obviously we can't leave this time period
for at least ten days if we're to cover our tracks here on Earth.  Now,
Mr. Scott, how long will it take to repair the Vulcan ship so that we can
cover the Klingons' tracks on Vulcan?"

"Well, Sahr, it'll take a day to get their wee ship up here and inta the
shuttle bay so that my engineers can get on ta repairin the ship.  I
dinna know what the standard crew complement of that kind'a ship is, but
it looked like there wasna any breaching of the hull, so I'd expect that
they had a fair chance'a surviv'in the crash."

"Bones?"

"I couldn't get good readings on what was happening in there Jim, the
interference was too bad.  I think that they're alive, but probably in
some kind of trance."

"Spock?"

"Unknown, Admiral, it is impossible to know what effect the Klingon fire
may have had on the vessel's occupants."

"Theorize," said Kirk.

"Without complete data it is impossible to construct a durable
hypothesis.  However, I should estimate that all of the passengers
survived, as Vulcan survey craft have always been equipped with the best
possible personnel protection technology in order to ensure that should
an unforeseeable happenstance occur, that the crew could destroy the
craft--either before or after escaping the wreckage--before it could be
found by the inhabitants of whichever planet was under study.  I would,
therefore, suggest that it is likely that some or all of the crew have
been injured sufficiently to cause unconsciousness, or require immediate
use of one of a number of self-restorative techniques.  I believe that we
may be able to get the crew into stasis before they can inspect our
technology, or realize that this vessel is crewed by humans using
technology that is not as yet available in this time."

"Bones, if Spock's right, can you get the crew into stasis until we can
repair their ship?"

"It depends on how badly they've been hurt, Jim, but since stasis fields
aren't usually dangerous to injured Vulcans, I don't see why not.  But if
they're not as badly off as Spock thinks, we could have a problem."

"Well, Bones ... we'll just have to deal with things as they happen."
said Kirk, who fervently hoped that Spock, whose theories were usually
right, would hit the mark again.  

"Since we can't do much about the Vulcan crew until we get them aboard, I
think that our top priority needs to be getting that ship off of the
surface, and then we can move out beyond the range of current-day
scanning technology so that we can focus our efforts on getting the
Vulcans home.  After that, we'll have to figure out a way to return
Mulder and Scully back to Earth in some way that won't affect the time
stream, or if we can't avoid effects, we'll need to leave them as few
questions, and answers to those questions, as we can. ...  Bones, as soon
as you're sure of Mulder's condition, I want you to get down to Scully's
quarters and put her under.  The best thing that we can do...." he
stopped, seeing the look on the doctor's face.

"Uh, Jim, we've got a problem," said McCoy, his discomfort clear.

"Yes, Bones?"  

"I took a scan of Scully, more-or-less incidentally while I was getting
my first look at Mulder.  Her blood chemistry has been rather seriously
altered, and all of the long-term depressants that I have may be lethal
to her after interacting with what's already in her system.  It'll take
at least thirty-six hours for me to come up with an acceptable
substitute.  I think that we're going to have to wait to tranquilize her
until then."

"Spock, can you keep her under using Vulcan methods?"

"Unfortunately, the Vulcan trances and other methods of maintaining
unconsciousness for that length of time are ineffective on humans."

"So, gentlemen, what you're saying is that we have no choice but to allow
her to regain consciousness at whatever point Mr. Spock's original nerve
pinch wears off?"

The nods from Spock and McCoy were *not* what Kirk had wanted to see.

"All right then, we're either going to have to keep her in her quarters,
something that can be easily arranged, or we're going to have to allow
her to move about the ship and figure out a way to erase her memory or
put her back *before* all of this happened."

"Admiral, I believe that we must dismiss the third group of
possibilities, as we have no transporter coordinates that would allow us
to place her back into a form of herself which had not seen the Vulcan
survey craft."

"Bones, can you erase her memory if that becomes necessary?"

"Yes Jim, but she'll resist the process, and we'll have to figure out a
way around that, since she'll have to be conscious at the beginning of
the procedure."

"Well, Bones, we'll just have to come up with something when the time
comes.  For the moment, I want someone to go down to her quarters and
label the door, head, and anything else that you think is relevant, and
make sure to leave her a hard copy note explaining the basic computer
functions."

After a moment's thought, Kirk realized that Scully might feel more
comfortable if she were to come to consciousness with a woman in her
quarters, should the labeling process not be completed before she came
out of the effects of Spock's nerve pinch.

"Commander Uhura, you've got the labeling duty, and you'll be her contact
until such time as I can meet with her to see what can be done about
trying to convince her to follow ship's rules, despite whatever mistrust
of us she may have."   

"Aye Sir," replied Uhura from her place near the foot of the table.  With
this, Kirk waved her out of the room, and then turned back to McCoy, who
clearly had something to say.

"Jim, I'd like to get back to have a look at my patient, but before I go,
I think that Spock should tell you something about these two people that
he finds, even for him, unusually "fascinating,"" said McCoy.

"Spock?"

"Admiral, I believe that it would have been better had Dr. McCoy not
spoken of this matter as of yet, however, as he has preempted my advice,
I will briefly note that during my physical contact with Agent Scully, I
sensed ... a kind of mental bond between her and Agent Mulder.  It
appears to be far weaker than those characteristic of Vulcans, however,
there are very few known cases of mental connections between humans,
making the relationship between the agents particularly interesting from
sociological, psychological, and biological standpoints.  I do not intend
to look into the matter, but have added the information into the
Federation's psychological data on both agents, as well as preparing a
report to the Vulcan Academy of Sciences should any of their descendants
choose to discuss their ancestors' relationship so far as it can be known
through several generations of family interpretation and lore."

"That Reminds me," McCoy said.  "Mulder got a pretty good look at the
Vulcan ship before he was shot, I've given him some drugs that will
scramble his memory reasonably well, so that he'll think that he was
having some kind of hallucination.  These drugs aren't blockers, so I'm
sure that someone with the right drugs and techniques on Earth *could*
descramble his memory and let him see what really happened, if he pushed
hard enough.

"I see," Kirk said.  "Assuming that we wipe Agent Scully's memory, that
may not be much of a problem, Bones.  For the moment, leave things as you
have, and unless we come up with something better than a memory wipe,
we'll just have to be sure to push the block to a point well before
contact was made.  I'd think that if she doesn't remember being there,
that'll probably cause Mulder to doubt whatever he remembers, with or
without help, to some degree or other.  Hopefully that'll be enough to
keep him from investigating too carefully.  Even if he does, if we all do
our jobs correctly, he'll have nothing to prove his claims, and as our
records suggest that aliens were something of an ... obsession for him,
his report will, doubtless, be dismissed without support from Agent
Scully."

"Right," McCoy said, knowing that there really wasn't any better answer
at the moment.   

"All right," Kirk said, before turning his attention back to the rest of
his officers.  "Before we return to stations, I want your opinions on
whether we should simply keep Ms. Scully confined to her quarters, or
whether you feel that we can allow her to move about the ship."

"Admeeral, I think that it vould be better to allow her to move around,
since she hasn't committed a crime, and a knowledge of the technology in
her quarters is more than enough  to affect history should vee be unable
to wipe her memory." said Chekhov.

"I Agree with Pavel, sir." said Sulu, "Also, she's much likelier to allow
us to change her memory if we show some trust in her."

"I think they're right, Jim." said McCoy,  "She doesn't deserve what's
happened to her,  and I'd say that their relationship is incredibly
close.  In fact, it reminds me a lot of very close family members.  If
someone had been tryin' to take JoAnna from me, I'd probably have held a
phaser on them, too."  

"Spock?" Kirk said seeing that the Vulcan had chosen to remain silent.

"Admiral, I am not qualified to consider the psychological factors,
however, I agree that it seems likely that we will have to show some
level of trust in her before she will extend the courtesy to us.  
However, I believe that a monitor of some type would be a wise
precaution, both for her and for the ship, as there are places which
might prove quite hazardous for someone not initiated in the realities of
starship technology."

"I think a bracelet would be a sensible precaution, Scotty, I assume that
you'll be needing to get back to engineering to get the salvage crews
ready?"

"Aye Sir, I should be workin' on thot."

"Before you get to work on the salvage operation, make up something
that'll allow us to track her, and have one of your staff take it by her
quarters.  I'll make sure that Uhura knows to tell her to wear it while
she's moving about the ship."  

"Aye Sir."

"Anything else?"

The profound silence in the room was Kirk's reply, and as soon as it was
clear that everything that could be done had been, Enterprise's officers
hastened to begin the complex set of tasks that had to be performed in
order to remove a ten thousand ton craft from the surface of a planet not
yet ready for the knowledge of its existence.

*    *    *

Thursday October 29, 5:37 AM GMT
The Starship Enterprise in geosynchronous orbit over Hawaii

The first thing that Dana Scully knew on her return to consciousness was
that she had a tremendous headache.  She remembered all-too-clearly the
events that had brought her to wherever she now lay.  Her fear for Mulder
was nearly overwhelming, even greater than that which she had for herself.

As her awareness returned, she realized that she was in a dark room, with
a window that looked out onto a very dark night.  She also quickly
realized that she was not restrained, which gave her some small sense of
hope.  As soon as she sat up, the lights in the room--no, rooms---came
on, and she saw that she was in a large and comfortable suite with at
least two rooms and a good deal of furniture.

She also realized that there was no obvious mechanism keeping her from
breaking the window, save for the extreme thickness of whatever it was
made of.  However, before she could do more, she saw that there was some
kind of message on the fold-out monitor screen that sat on the desk.

She rose from the bed in which she had been laid, possibly by the alien
with the ears,<alien> she thought, with more than a little shock <I hope
that Mulder gets to see *him*, maybe it will allow him to prove what he's
been saying at last>.

After sitting down before the monitor she read the brief message awaiting
her there.

************

Agent Scully, you are in guest quarters aboard the United Star Ship
Enterprise, a vessel representing the United Federation of Planets.  You
are free to move about the ship, however for your safety, and for ours,
we ask you to wear the security monitor which has been left outside your
door.  There are places aboard ship that could prove hazardous to someone
without null-G training, or without protective clothing.  All crew
members have been given your general description, and will redirect you
if possible, but their duties may keep them from seeing you and may not
be able to protect you--or themselves--if they don't see you in time.

The ship's computer accepts both keyboard and voice commands, so should
you require directions to or from a certain place, you need simply go to
the nearest com panel and say Computer, direct me to -- and whichever
point you may wish to reach.  Agent Mulder is in Sick bay, and
recovering, however, he will remain unconscious until we can return you
to Earth.  Dr. McCoy is expecting you, and will consult with you
concerning what has been done for him, and his expected recovery.  

Your quarters are equipped with a store of clothing which should fit you
in the closet to the left of the desk, near the foot of the bed.  The
head is located in the right-hand wall of your bedroom, directly to the
right of the entrance to the living and eating area.  Should you need
further assistance, you may call on Commander Uhura: Communications
officer, or Drs. McCoy and Chapel.

**********************

After she'd read the note, Scully wasn't sure what to think.  She was
obviously being held somewhere, and her captors weren't going to release
her for some period of time.  It was now a fully instinctive paranoia
that led her to mistrust the people holding her, but still, had they not
done something for Mulder, he would certainly have died.  She wouldn't
take their word concerning his health until she could see him herself,
but it was true that they were willing to let her see him, and
apparently, let her have a limited sense of freedom in moving around ...
wherever she was...  It went without saying that she wouldn't wear the
security monitor, since any such item would allow them to track her
movements, and her first--and only--goal, had to be getting herself and
Mulder away from this place.  The possibility that her captors, whose
names at least seemed to bear an odd resemblance to those of the
characters of the old Star Trek series, were trying, insofar as they were
able, to help her never entered her mind.

--------
A Stitch In Time: Part IV
By Matthew Weed


Friday October 30, 1997 3:14 AM GMT
The Starship Enterprise in geosynchronous orbit over the mid-Pacific Basin



"Sahr, This is Mr. Scott, we've got the wee Vulcan ship ready for
salvage, but I dinna know if now is the best time ta' try to do it."

"Why not?"

"Well, Sahr, the sun'll still be up in that part of the planet at this
time, and I'm thinkin' that it'll be much better ta' wait for another
little bit before we get inta the job."

"Scotty, we'll have to deal with planetary defense sensors and other
interference no matter what time we tractor the ship in, so why wait?"

"Well, Sahr, since we're draggin' the ship many kilometers out ta' sea,
before we bring it up to our altitude, I think that we'd be better off
ta' wait until it's dark, so that if there are any civilians tryin' to
watch from long range, they'll have a harder time seein' what we're doin'."

"Spock?", Kirk said, turning to his first officer, who, as usual in such
situations, had been listening to Scott's words without the level of
intrusiveness that McCoy would have employed had Agent Scully not been
keeping him busy explaining her partner's condition and treatment to
her.  

"Sir, I believe that Mr. Scott is correct in his assessment of the
benefit of delay.  The nation-state which controls the Hawaiian
Archipelago at this time has effectively sealed the site off, and their
agents appear to be waiting for action, either from the craft itself, or
from some agency, either terrestrial or otherwise, which might claim it.  
I have been monitoring their communications activity, and believe that
they have orders to wait another thirty-six old-standard hours before
dismantling and then scuttling the craft in the Marianas Trench.  It is,
therefore, safe to assume that the government of the United States does
not want information on the existence of the survey craft to be
released.  However, the attitudes and actions of other groups are far
more difficult to predict, and our activities will be easily observed in
daylight."

"I see," said Kirk, realizing that if one wanted to keep something hidden
from sight, that the nearly seven miles of water in the undersea canyon
in the Central Pacific Basin would do the job nicely.  Had he been
working for the group trying to conceal alien involvement on Earth, he
would have used a similar hiding place.  It was also true that his
engineer and first officer were justified in their concern over the need
for darkness to shroud the first stages of the retrieval operation.   

"You're certain that they've got the site cordoned off?"

"Quite sure, Admiral," Spock said.  "The only major difficulty at this
point is that none of the atmospheric routes that we will be forced to
use have been cleared of possible civilians outside of the restricted
zone.  I would suggest that we attempt to contact the officials in charge
of the operation, however I am, as yet, still uncertain of their
identities or location.  As soon as I have the information, I will ensure
that it comes to your attention."

"Fine, Spock." said Kirk before turning back to the intercom.  "Scotty,
we will delay recovery operations for at least four hours, Mr. Spock is
trying to find the people in charge of the security operation down there,
and we'll need to get them to do what they can to keep civilian activity
in the area to a minimum."

"Aye Sahr, We'll just be waitin' for your orders," Scott said before the
connection closed.

*    *    *

Dana Scully was more furious than she had ever been, and as often
happened in such situations, she knew that most of her anger came
directly from the overwhelming sense of fear and confusion that she was
facing as a result of the predicament that her partner's impetuous
actions had landed them in.  She had been watching Mulder for the past
eighteen hours, in between terrific arguments with the man who claimed to
be the chief surgeon of the "Starship Enterprise".  How stupid did they
think she was, anyway?  The man even called himself Leonard McCoy.

She, like most Americans, had seen the old Star Trek series--several
times--and although it had been far more sexist than the newer series
were, she recognized that unlike all of the newer series in the universe,
the old series had, in many ways, a message that had been less tainted by
politics than the newer series, all of which had become, to some degree,
"PC Trek", as their critics often said.  She couldn't believe that any
agency would consider her stupid enough to fall for this charade.

However, Mulder was recovering far more rapidly than he would have in a
traditional hospital, and the technology that she had seen was
representative of capabilities far ahead of even those which Mulder
believed that the "Grays" had.  Everything from the vocally controlled
computer to the scanning equipment that showed Mulder's condition without
the use of any physical probes was *very* suggestive of technology that
her logical mind told her could not belong to the consortium, or the  
allies which Mulder attributed to it.  Further, although she had seen
some beings that were clearly not of earth, she hadn't seen anything that
looked like Mulder's Reticulans.

Satisfied for the moment that Mulder was, if not all right, at least
moving in that direction, she decided to explore a bit in hopes of
finding an escape route that she could use when Mulder had recovered.

*    *    *

"Admiral, I have identified the locations of both the site commander, and
his senior official in charge in the Washington DC. area.  Which person
should we contact?"

"Contact the man in Washington, tell him that someone will be in his
office in twenty minutes to discuss the disposition of the alien craft
now in Hawaii."

"Aye Sir," chorused Spock and Uhura as information was transferred, and a
piece of electronic mail dropped into Cancer man's supposedly secured
mailbox.



Thursday October 29, 10:24 PM EDT
Office of Cancer man

His head snapped around as he heard the chime of an incoming mail message
on the computer that was used for communication within the consortium
alone.  They had, long ago, built a planetary system whose efficiency and
reliability put the internet--before the fools at uu.net had permitted it
to be opened to corporate activity--to shame.  No one could break in,
because there was no link with the outside internet, and no way for
satellite transmissions to be initiated since the whole thing was based
on land lines.  However, as he looked at the headers on the message, he
could have no doubt that the message did not originate from anyone with
access to their network.  All he could do was wait for the alien "landing
party" to come and discuss whatever it was that they were planning to do
with their ship.

Their references to "salvage" confused him, as such an operation would be
damned near impossible to do without a lot of help from the Consortium,
as the "Reticulans" or "Vegans" as he knew them to be, didn't have the
technology to move such a large object from their ships.  In fact, he
wasn't even sure that it *was* one of theirs, as the shape, provenance
and other characteristics were all wrong.  However, the Vegans had told
his predecessor's predecessor that they were the only spacefaring power
in this part of the galaxy, and as yet, no evidence had appeared that
disproved their claim to regional hygemony ... until now.  He would have
to wait to get a feel for the situation, and go from there.

Friday October 30, 1997 3:38 AM GMT
The Starship Enterprise somewhere in Earth orbit

James T. Kirk was more than nervous as he thought about what he was about
to do.  He was preparing to send Spock and an all-Vulcan landing party to
Earth of the late Twentieth Century.  By doing so, he would, certainly,
add to the knowledge available to officials on Earth concerning the
galaxy around them.  Obviously, the Vegans had already interfered, and
for all he knew, the Vulcans might have as well, but if they had, there
was no evidence.  Admittedly their presumptive contact had, in this time
and for years after, been incredibly good at hiding the true extent of
alien influence on Earth. However, additions to his, or anyone else's
knowledge of the galaxy posed problems that, given any other choice, Kirk
would have avoided.  He wished that he didn't have to send anyone at all,
but he knew that it was better to have Spock deal with this matter as he
knew more about the combination of Vulcan policy, and  Earth history than
anyone else, and would act out of logic rather than fear of any
consequences of his actions.  Another reason to send an all-alien landing
party was the simple fact that humans couldn't go down there because they
didn't have access to the necessary technology as yet, and so their
presence would constitute an  unacceptable contamination of the time stream.

"Admiral, the landing party is ready for transport," said Spock as his
team entered the transporter room.

"Fine, Spock.  Take care and don't tell him any more than you have to."

"Of course, sir."

With this, Kirk moved to the main transporter console and began the
process of sending five Vulcans  to a small, smoky office in Washington DC.

*    *    *

Thursday October 29, 1997 10:40 PM EDT
Office of Cancer man

He watched with interest, and then trepidation as five columns of light
flared in front of his desk.  In only a few seconds, an equal number of
beings, quite humanoid in general form, though with minor differences,
were standing where the transportation device had placed them.  Clearly
their teleportation technology was superior to that of those with whom he
had been unfortunate enough to have to deal for the past four decades.  
Without further delay, one of the beings stepped forward and Earth's
first contact with someone born on the planet Vulcan occurred.

"I am Spock, commanding this landing party and second-in-command of the
rescue mission currently in orbit of your planet.  Our preparations for
salvage of the survey vessel currently on the Island of Hawaii in the
Mid-Pacific Basin are proceeding as planned, however, we need to
coordinate efforts in order to ensure that undue evidence of alien
activity on and around your world does not fall into the hands of the
general public."

"Why does it matter to you?" Cancer man demanded, more than a little
suspicious of a group of aliens commanded by a man whose name was exactly
the same as that of the first officer of the original starship
Enterprise, whose adventures had brought Paramount Pictures Corp billions
in profits over the last thirty years.  For all he knew, this was a
warning by one of the competing "technology salvage" groups that they had
a new advantage which he would have to counter.

"Because undue knowledge of the the true extent of alien influence on
your world could result in the disruption of your societal norms, which
is a risk that we are unwilling to take at this time.  As your group has
similar goals, we felt it logical to request your assistance in carrying
out our mission."

Cancer man didn't quite know how to take this.  These beings, whether
they be aliens or no,  were clearly in possession of technology far in
advance of that available to the Reticulans/Vegans.  It seemed almost
impossible to believe that had any of the other shadow groups focused on
the salvage of alien technology found anything of this class, that they
would have remained silent on the matter.  Either they would have used it
to advantage in the never-ceasing power struggles which, along with
Mulder and Scully, were giving him ulcers, or there would have been some
word from one of the agents whom he had planted in each of the competing
groups.  So, despite the risk to his position, and that of the consortium
in general, he quickly decided that he had no choice but to cooperate to
some extent at least.

"Fine," he said.  "What do you need from me?"

The plan was made quickly, the basics not being that much different from
many other operations which had been carried out to sanitize crash sites
over the past twenty years.  However, both Spock and Cancer man knew that
there was one other issue which had to be dealt with, a leak which if not
plugged would destroy Cancer man's life's work, and--though the human
could not know it--quite possibly, Spock.

"Do you have agents Mulder and Scully?" he asked, deciding that if these
people were skilled enough to have superior teleportation technology,
that they would probably be able to determine the purpose of FBI
identification without difficulty.

"Yes," Spock replied.  "Due to circumstances which we are not free to
discuss, it is essential that they be returned, and it will be necessary
to ensure that they do not remember their experience aboard our vessel.  
I leave the making of the arrangements for their return to you, with the
understanding that they must never be questioned concerning their
experiences, as any inquiries that you make could result in the
destruction of your civilization." he said, knowing that although threats
were illogical, the logic of the situation was inescapable, and could be
used to effect with the human sitting before him.

"You know that I can't just let them return to their lives without
getting any information that I can on their experiences, it's part of my
job."

"Your duties appear to be confined to ensuring your world's safety from
non-terrestrial invasion or coercion.  Should you press this issue, there
can be little doubt that you will be putting your world at risk from your
current ... benefactors.  They are only marginally aware of my homeworld,
but are determined to learn more about our civilization and its
technology.  Should you attempt to get information from them, you will
draw attention to this matter, and could change the circumstances which
currently protect your world from interference more serious than it
already faces."

Cancer man thought over this statement for a moment, realizing that he
had been told that these aliens were not interested in the resources that
his world could--and had been forced to---provide to the Vegans.  Their
interest was founded on something else, and he decided that though it was
important, the clear warning that he was being given had to be heeded,
whether his instincts about what he was being told were right or not.

"Understood," he said quietly, while reaching for another Morley.  
"However, you must wipe their memories, as we can't do so without our
benefactors' knowledge."

"Very well," Spock replied, knowing that what he had been forced to agree
to would be difficult, both morally and practically.  "I must also demand
that if there are any persons who might cause uncontrollable leaks
concerning this situation, that they be silenced through non-lethal
means."

It didn't take long for Cancer man to understand the import of this
demand.  If anyone suddenly disappeared, never to return, it might draw
undue attention to his group, or to the circumstances surrounding the
disappearance of either that person, or Agents Mulder and Scully.  
Attention that, if it drew in the Vegans, would pose a terrible threat to
planetary security.

"You know that it will be difficult," he said, fishing for any help that
he might get from these enegmatic aliens.   

"Yes, I am fully aware of the difficulty of your task.  However, as you
know, leaks could prove disastrous for both yourself and your world,"
Spock replied.

"I understand," Cancer man replied, already thinking of A. D. Skinner,
whose 'right to know' as Mulder and Scully's direct supervisor would
prove to be a major problem unless handled with extreme care.

"You will be contacted when we are able to return agents Mulder and
Scully," the alien commander said before touching a small flat unit on
his belt and disappearing in the flaring column of light in which he had
appeared only fifteen minutes before.   

*    *    *

The first eighteen hours of the salvage operation had gone well, the only
problem being a small crisis that had occurred when it was remembered
that a large patch of burned forest surrounded the crash site.  
Fortunately, Mr. Scott had shown his typical efficiency in such matters,
and had found a small pocket of magma that could, with only minimal help
from Enterprise' phasers, be used to cover the area in a thick slab of
newly extruded rock.  James Kirk, sitting in the command chair on his
ship's bridge was beginning to relax, something that he feared more than
anything which could befall him, as he knew that these periods of false
peace were usually followed by disaster.

*    *    *

After her exploration of the structure where they were being held, Scully
had to admit that there was some tiny chance that they were truly aboard
a starship with incredible technology, and she was certainly convinced of
the existence of alien life.  In the course of her movements about the
ship, she had seen beings with tentacles, beings that appeared to be
amorphous clouds, beings that were, so far as she could tell, made of
rock, and human-like beings with skins tinted green and blue, and other
human-like beings with huge snout-like noses.  It was obvious that
whether these beings were allied with the shadows or not, they were a
truly diverse bunch, and she had to admit that though not perfect, the
resemblance to various of the aliens portrayed in Paramount Pictures'
Star Trek universe was, frankly, unsettling.  If this were a hoax, it was
the most complex one ever tried on either Mulder or herself.  If this
ship was 'real', she was clearly going to have to rethink her world-view
in the very near future.

She finally found herself in a spacious compartment, with wide
transparent windows which gave a commanding view of an enormous
cigar-shaped structure backgrounded by a blue planet which she finally
realized was Earth as seen from extremely high orbit.  The view was truly
impressive and she knew that, assuming no monitoring implants, it was
most likely real.  The reality of her situation--being trapped aboard a
craft with a broad diversity of aliens in its crew--was still too much
for her rational, fear-shrouded mind to accept, so she simply sat there,
trying to figure out a way to explain what she had seen that would fit
into her old way of thinking.

*    *    *

Spock's head shot up, the surprise and fear clear for Kirk to see, even
if the rest of his crew remained oblivious to the Vulcan's
uncharacteristic display of emotion.

"Admiral, I have a high-powered transmission directed from this system's
asteroid belt toward open space.  Provenance and ultimate recipient unknown."

"Red alert!" cried Kirk, his voice breaking the silence that gripped the
bridge at the first officer's announcement.

"Uhura, can you decode the transmission?" he demanded, rising to stand
behind his communications officer.

"I'm on it," she said.  After a short pause, she turned to Kirk, ready to
give her report.  "I think that the transmission is a compilation of data
acquired by a number of passive sensor stations spread throughout the
asteroid belt."

"Have they gotten any solid data on us?"

"No," she replied.  "However, I don't know if there might be active
sensors that might be programmed to scan near-earth space at some interval."

"Spock?"

"Without using our active sensors, I can make no conclusions concerning
Ms. Uhura's hypothesis.  However, I believe that it is logical to assume
that such stations exist until we can develop definitive proof to the
contrary."  

"Understood," Kirk said quietly.  "All right, I need suggestions
concerning the best way to get that Vulcan ship close enough to us to
take it aboard and get it out of the system so that we can make repairs
without adding to our risk of detection by whatever sensors are out
there.  As soon as that's done, we will depart the system."

"How Sair?" asked Chekhov.

"There isn't enough in-system debris to hide passive scanners from us if
we depart the system at ninety degrees to the ecliptic, Mr. Chekhov.  As
soon as we have the ship secured we'll depart as quickly as Mr. Spock
believes is possible without triggering the passive sensor field."

"Sir, I think that it vould be vise to engage silent running procedures
as soon as ve have the wulcan wessel." Chekhov said, while beginning the
tedious work of plotting a course that would keep the ship away from as
much of the in-system matter as possible.  "Ve should keep our sensor
profile down if ve're going to awoid their scanners."   

"Good idea, Mr. Chekhov, ... Bridge to Engineering, ... Mr. Scott, can we
engage silent running procedures now and maintain the tractor beam as our
only external expenditure of ship's power?"

"Nay Sahr," replied Scott.  "We must maintain the navigational deflectors
if we're to avoid runnin' inta the junk that these people have floatin'
about in their orbital space.  However, I think that we could hold shield
power down ta'bout five percent o' maximum which would be almost as
good.  Since it doesna leak much energy, the tractor'll nay show up vera
well on passive scanners, so we should be able ta' engage silent running
in a few minutes.  But Sahr, I should point out that those scanners that
we've been dealin' with from the surface will be able to cut through our
shields at that level."

"I see," Kirk replied.  "Mr. Spock, do you have any ideas?"

"Admiral, after our return from the planet's surface, there have been
very few attempts to breach our shields, I believe that the factions that
control the technology have decided to desist in their attempts to learn
more about us."

"That'll have to do for the moment, but I want two people on the scanners
at all times in case our friends down there decide to try to scan us
while the shields are weakened." said Kirk, barely aware of Spock's
acknowledgement of his order.  "Scotty, I want you to prepare to engage
silent running procedures as soon as possible, but be sure to have enough
power available to bring our shields back up to current levels should Mr.
Spock's team catch anyone trying to punch a scan through our shields."

"Aye Sahr," Scotty replied.  "We'll nay ha' any problem with thot kind of
preparedness, and I'll ha' the ship ready for the change in status in
about five minutes."    

"Spock, will we suffer any obvious losses in performance beyond having to
double bunk a few crew members and close the observation decks?" Kirk
asked, still not fully familiar with the ship's operating procedures
under this unusual regime which had been instituted while he still held
his desk job at Starfleet Headquarters.

"No, sir.  However, despite Mr. Scott's confidence in his energy leakage
figures, I believe that we may find it prudent to cut tractor power by
fifty percent in order to further reduce our risk of detection."

"Will that add to our time window?" Kirk asked.

"Yes sir, however, I believe that the delay will not be sufficient to
overcome the benefit to us of reducing tractor output."

"I want you to discuss this with Mr. Scott first, remembering that we
have to be able to respond immediately should we be scanned.  However, if
he agrees, you may proceed."

"Understood."

*         *    *

Meanwhile, Scully had, for the first time in nearly thirty hours, fallen
asleep on the bench which she occupied.  The shock of dealing with
Mulder's unexpected wake-up, the trip to the "Big Island" and all that
had happened since would have been enough to seriously tax anyone.  
Despite all of the training in dealing without sleep that medical school
had given her, such abilities had to be nurtured to be maintained, and
although difficult, her life over the past five years had been nothing
compared to the hell that they'd put her through in medical school.

So, when the ship's klaxons went off, and the announcement to clear all
outer portions of the hull in five minutes came over the PA system, it
took her exhausted body much of that precious time to wake sufficiently
to bring her back to full consciousness.

More time was lost while she decided that whether she was being tricked
or not, it might be a good idea to head back toward the medical bay where
Mulder was being kept.  By the time she found the exit, and passed
through it, the five minutes were up, and blast doors suddenly closed
across the corridor in which she was walking, effectively trapping her
between heavy layers of impenetrable metal.

Almost before the fact that she was trapped could register, she felt the
temperature of the air drop precipitously, and realized that if  she
didn't get out of there soon, that she might die of exposure.  Her
inherent paranoia was the cause for her delay in contacting the bridge
for help while she reviewed the facts of her current situation.  Her
mistrust was balanced by the knowledge that her captors hadn't forced her
to wear the security bracelet that she had found in her quarters, and of
course, they were trying to keep Mulder alive.  Whether this was a good
or bad thing, she didn't know, but she did know that she couldn't escape
her  current predicament without their help.  Whether friendly or not,
she knew that they had Mulder, and that she wasn't going to leave him
alone in their hands.

*    *    *

"Admiral, I have a com from the corridor outside of the after observation
deck," came Lt. Commander Uhura's quiet call from behind Kirk.

"What?" he demanded, swinging his chair around to look at her.  "There
shouldn't be anyone in those corridors now, the evacuation signal went
out more than five minutes ago."

"Sir," Uhura said hesitatingly, "...I think it might be the woman from
the past."

Kirk's hand smacked down on his chair's com panel as he said "Kirk here."

"This is Agent Scully from the FBI, I'm trapped in a corridor outside one
of your observation decks." replied the voice on the comlink.

"Agent Scully," Kirk said, "We ordered an evacuation of the outer
compartments some six minutes ago, and I'd really like to know what the
devil you thought you were doing ignoring the announcement."

"Unfortunately, I slept through it," she replied, a clear bite in her
voice.  "And now if you don't hurry up and get me out of here, I'm going
to freeze."

"Sir," Spock said quietly, "She is not wearing her security transponder,
which will make a beam-out impossible.  It will take some time to
override the individual security lock.  I have already dispatched a
medical team and security and engineering teams to the area in order to
expedite the process of releasing Ms. Scully."

"Fine," said Kirk.  "Agent Scully, you'll have to hold on for a few
minutes, as the computer can't recognize you as a member of the crew, and
so won't open the doors to allow you to leave the air lock."

"Why not?!?"

"You aren't wearing your monitor," Kirk replied.

"I see," she replied, the mistrust and increasing effects of the cold
becoming clear in her voice.

*    *    *

The minutes dragged by slowly for Scully, who was in constant contact
with the bridge staff, who were trying to keep her conscious while the
various teams worked on opening the heavy blast doors.  However, before
they could override the special lock down procedures and  protocols for
silent running, she felt consciousness slipping away.  The last conscious
thought she had before slipping into hypothermia induced unconsciousness
was the hope that these people would release Mulder and let him continue
his search for his sister.


--------
A Stitch In Time: V.
By Matthew Weed
Summary and Disclaimers in part 0.

Saturday October 31, 1997 8:28 AM GMT
The Star Ship Enterprise somewhere in Earth orbit.

"Well, young lady, I'm glad to see that you're finally awake," a voice
said somewhere near Scully's head.

When Scully returned to consciousness, she found herself in a
hospital-like room, complete with a lot of very strange equipment
surrounding her bed.  Fortunately, before the strength of the fear at
being held in a strange place that, in some ways, reminded her of what
little she could remember from her abduction could overwhelm her, she
realized that she must be in the Enterprise's sick-bay.  Her return to
full awareness of her surroundings gave her an initial sense of calmness
that was immediately replaced by terror.  The fear resulted from her  
realization that her injuries had forced her to lose what little control
she had of the situation to these strange people, who were in so many
ways familiar, yet clearly not just actors on an old television show.  

"What happened?" she demanded of the man who claimed to be Dr. McCoy.

"You nearly froze in the corridor outside of the aft observation deck
when they shut down life support to the outer areas of the ship," he
replied, his manner open and friendly, just as it had been when she had
been here checking on Mulder.  The thought of her partner caused yet
another spasm of terror to strike her, a fear strengthened by  the
realization that she was now unable to protect him as well, and could do
nothing to find an escape route for some time to come.  Her redoubled
fears caused her to be even harsher with the doctor than she might
otherwise have been.

"What have you done with Mulder?!" she demanded after looking about the
small ward and seeing that he was *not* there.

"We've got him in a private recovery room," McCoy replied, not surprised
that she might be worried for her friend and partner.

"I want to see him." she said, maneuvering to get out of bed.

"You're not ready to be up and about yet, your temperature's still down a
bit, and your muscles aren't ready for ...." McCoy said before rushing
forward to catch her before she could fall and hit her head on one of the
pieces of equipment that stood in a ring around her bed.

"I *told* you that you weren't ready to get up yet," McCoy said,
maneuvering her back down onto the bed.

"I *am* going to see him, even if I have to crawl." Scully gritted, her
mistrust of the people around her fanning her determination to check on
the man who had become her closest friend, and first confidant over the
past five years.

"If you're that determined, I can get someone to wheel you into his room
for a few minutes, but you really need to stay in the stabilization
fields for a while longer before you start moving around too much."

"Fine," she said, "take me to Mulder, and then I'll come back and rest
for a while."

McCoy, who was a sufficiently good "old country doctor" to know when
arguing with an intractible patient would do more harm than good, called
for Christine Chapel, his second-in-command and most trusted colleague.  
After a brief argument, which Chapel finally conceded when McCoy told her
that "Agent Scully makes that pointy-eared menace look reasonable",
Chapel began the process of readying Scully's bed for the move to
Mulder's room.  

When they had moved her into Mulder's section of sick-bay, Scully was
more than a little relieved to see the obvious progress that he was
making in his recovery from the nearly fatal wound which he had suffered
some three days earlier.  Despite his continued unconscious state, it was
clear that his body was mending the terrible damage done to it by the
attempted assassination.  She could see that had he been allowed to
return to consciousness, he would have already been causing the
Enterprise medical staff even more trouble than she had.

When a young technician entered, and began preparing to move her back to
her room, Scully decided that she really didn't want to leave Mulder
totally unprotected in this strange environment.

"Would there be any problem with just moving me in here full-time so that
I can keep an eye on him?" she asked of the young woman who was
disconnecting her bed from ship's power.

"I don't know, but I'll ask Dr. McCoy for you if you like," she replied.

"Yes, please." Scully said, only now realizing how important McCoy's
response to this request would be to her willingness to consider
trusting, if only marginally, the ship's surgeon.

McCoy had been expecting this request, and fully aware of the
implications of not granting it, was happy to do so.

"Ms. Scully, I'm sorry that I didn't think to put you in here in the
first place," he said, as he entered the room.  "I should've thought of
it earlier, considering that you spent nearly eighteen hours down here
raisin' hell for my staff," he said with a smile.

"Thank you, Dr." Scully said, utterly relieved to know that these people
wouldn't stand in the way of her at least watching over--even if she
couldn't actually treat--her partner and closest friend.

"No problem." McCoy said.  "Before you get too comfortable, I should tell
you that the Admiral wants to see you on the bridge in about two hours,
we're breaking orbit in order to complete repairs on the ship that we
were sent here to recover and return to its rightful owners."

"What good will it do for me to be on your bridge then?" Scully asked,
more than slightly  suspicious of both the Dr. and his commanding officer.

"I think that he's hoping to gain your trust a bit by showing you why
we're here."

"Well, Dr.  Considering that you're the ones in control, that Agent
Mulder and I have been tricked and experimented on by the government
before, and that you clearly feel contempt for us by trying to act like
characters on a 1960s TV show, I'd say that in this case it'll take a lot
more than sweet talk and displays of your technology to get me to trust
you."  When she realized just what she'd said, Scully's mouth snapped
closed, the fear that she might have given away too much clear for McCoy
to see on her face.

"TV show, government experiments, what are you talking about?" McCoy
demanded, utterly mystified by what he'd just heard.

In spite of the niggling doubt that he truly didn't know what she was
talking about, Scully chose not to respond to his questions.

*    *    *

Captain's log: Old Earth Date October 31, 1997:  James T. Kirk commanding
USS Enterprise recording.

We have just completed the process of bringing the Vulcan scout craft
aboard, and are preparing to leave orbit so that we may give the Vulcans
some assistance on their journey home.  This is important for two
reasons.  Firstly, as best we can tell from scans of the ship's interior,
it was preparing for departure when the Klingons fired upon it, which
means that it is necessary for us to ferry them part way back to Vulcan
if they are to arrive there on schedule.  Secondly, it will be far less
risky to both this vessel, and the people of present-day Earth if we are
far enough away from the planet to ensure that the sensors which the
Vegans have set up in the system are given as little opportunity as
possible to make an active scan of our vessel.  The consequences of such
an event would be, in Spock's word, incalculable.  Therefore, we will
depart Earth space immediately, and set a course for Vulcan.  After
releasing the Vulcan craft, we will, unfortunately, have to go back to
Earth in order to return agents Mulder and Scully of the present-day
Federal Bureau of Investigation before we can go back to the Twenty-third
Century.  We can only hope that Mr. Spock's contact will keep his word
concerning a plan for their return, and more importantly, realize the
risk of trying to erase the memory blocks that Dr. McCoy intends to set
up before their release.  

Had he known that the good doctor would have chosen that exact moment to
bring Scully to the bridge, James T. Kirk would have waited to record
this part of the log.  However, he did not know until McCoy's muttered
expletive and Scully's shocked gasp told him that they were on the
bridge, and had heard at least some of what he had said.

"Bones," Kirk said, swinging his chair around to look at the two of them.

"Yeah Jim," McCoy said.

"How much did you get of that?"

"Enough," Scully snapped, dividing her glare between the two men.

"Ms. Scully," Kirk said, his best
"negotiating-with-unreasonable-women-or-computers-who-have-something-that-he-wants" look
fully in place,  "It probably isn't what you're thinking."

"I'm sure that it isn't," she replied, "so I'm more than happy to hear
what you think "it" is."

"You already know most of this, although I have the feeling that you
don't believe it." Kirk said, while trying to organize his thoughts.  "We
are here to return a Vulcan craft, which was attacked by a vessel of the
Klingon Empire which is  an enemy of the United Federation of Planets.

In