You Changed The Ending

Two crews. Myriad destinies await!

You Changed The Ending – 1

Onitha, Jameeta System, Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78490

Deep within the confines of a heavily guarded Krenim research facility, Doctor Irlina and her team of temporal scientists gathered breathlessly around their latest creation: the Paradox Machine. The sleek and metallic frame of the machine glinted ominously in the sterile white light of the laboratory, humming with a barely contained energy that seemed to pulse through the very air itself. Shadows danced eerily on the walls as if the machine were already tearing through the very fabric of time. Every eye was fixed intently on the machine, waiting with bated breath for the moment of truth, when the machine would either deliver the answers they had been seeking or unleash chaos upon the world. The air was thick with a sense of both excitement and apprehension as the scientists felt the weight of their responsibility to ensure that their creation would not be the end of everything they knew.

Decades of work had gone into this, almost her entire lifetime, but Irlina knew this was the next step in her people’s understanding of time. She had left her home on Kyana Prime nearly forty years ago, and under heavy escort by the forces of the Krenim Imperium, she had set up this base deep underground. Now that the day had arrived, after countless calculations, testing and theorising, Irlina was both excited and anxious. What would they discover? What would they learn? 

Pushing down on her uniform, which was standard for all officers within the Krenim’s military, she felt like she had to say something. This was a momentous occasion. Clearing her voice, she grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. The only thing that could be heard was the Paradox Machine slowly powering up. 

“One of our most famed temporal scientists once said that when time offers you an opportunity, you don’t ignore it. Today, we cannot ignore what our creation will show us. So let’s take one moment at a time.” After speaking, Irlina smirked at everyone as they clapped in agreement with her sentiments. 

She turned her focus back to the station before her—the primary controls. At that moment, Irlina realised what everything meant to her. For months, they had toiled tirelessly, pouring heart and soul into the construction of this enigmatic device. Yet, beneath the surface of scientific triumph lingered a sense of unease, a whisper of doubt that danced at the fringes of her consciousness.

“The calculations are stable, Irlina,” one of her colleagues remarked, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. “We’re ready to proceed with the final activation sequence.”

Either it worked, or it didn’t. Throwing caution to the wind, Irlina turned to him and gave him an approving nod. “Initiate the activation process, but proceed with caution. We cannot afford any mistakes.”

Her team, a cadre of brilliant minds united in purpose, sprang into action with practised efficiency. Fingers flew across control panels, frantically attempting to keep an eye on the machine as the first set of readings started to come through. Irlina began to feel herself smile as the temporal sensors started to process the first set of readings. 

Everything was going fine. 

Yet, despite their best efforts, the machine’s core flickered ominously, its once-stable foundations crumbling beneath the weight of unforeseen consequences.

And then, in a blinding flash of light, it happened.

The Paradox Machine erupted in a cataclysmic cascade of energy; its once-proud facade shattered into a million fractured shards. Time itself seemed to warp and bend, folding in upon itself as the very fabric of reality unravelled before their eyes.

Cursing herself, Irlina felt the anger rise through her veins as she attempted to find out what was going wrong. Nothing from their preliminary tests had predicted any issues in the first few moments. Explosions erupted around her from overloads.  

“Contain the breach! Seal the temporal fractures before it’s too late!” Irlina shouted above the deafening roar of chaos; her voice tinged with urgency. “We must reinforce the primary containment field around the temporal core.”

Her team scrambled to comply, their faces etched with determination as they fought against the relentless tide of the unknown. None of them could have predicted whatever was happening to the Paradox Machine. Something external to them, beyond their research facility, was causing it to respond like this. It was almost like an upset baby that couldn’t be rested. Nothing they could do would reset the machine. With each passing moment, the fractures spread like wildfire, ruthlessly threatening to consume everything in their path. 

Looking at the machine’s temporal sensors, Irlina could see the fractures were no longer contained within their lab; they had spread across the planet and beyond. The entire Jameeta system was consumed. Every Krenim, almost five million of them, who lived in the system was now affected by their project: men, women, children – all of them. The Paradox Machine was reaching out, trying to make room with what it was trying to figure out, and it needed the entire system to become its playground. No one was safe. 

Realising that any attempt to stabilise the machine was futile, Irlina knew she had to give up and repair the damage. Her fingers were already dancing across the panel before her, trying to close the rifts that were now getting bigger, not just in size but in power. Who knew what was going to happen if they were left?

“We need to shut down the machine!” one of her colleagues exclaimed, his voice strained with desperation.

Irlina’s jaw tightened with resolve as she surveyed the devastation brought by their creation. “Not yet. First, we must contain the fractures. Only then can we hope to halt the machine’s rampage.”

And then, amidst the chaos, came the unexpected.

“Long-range sensors are picking up something, Irlina,” another scientist called out, her voice tinged with disbelief. She was sitting on one of the stations the farthest from Irlina. It had been her job to monitor the local space-time continuum. “It’s…” Her pause to take a breath was mixed with shock from what was happening around them in their lab and what she could see out in the star system. “We’ve got Krenim warships, but their quantum readings show they are from almost thirty years ago.”

Irlina’s eyes widened in shock as she processed the implications of this newfound revelation. Checking her own readings, Irlina couldn’t believe it. One of the temporal fractures had deposited the ships on their doorstep like an unwelcome guest. Reviewing the sensors with more detail, Irlina noticed that their temporal phase signature was also out. These Krenim warships were not from their timeline but an alternative one. 

“It seems we’ve attracted some unexpected visitors,” she shared, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of their situation. She knew she had to focus on the here and now, but the past and possible future were also shouting at her.

There was no way she and her team could endure having to close these rifts and deal with their fellow brothers and sisters from a different timeline; instead, Irlina activated the only remaining system that appeared to be working. Entering her command codes and authorising its use, she activated the base’s general distress beacon before an explosion erupted in the lab, pushing her across the room and smacking her down on the floor, out cold.

You Changed The Ending – 3

USS Themis (NCC-76554), Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78500

Captain Cambil Bexa sat crossed-leg on the carpet in the centre of her ready room aboard the USS Themis, the ambient hum of the ship’s systems creating a serene atmosphere punctuated only by the soft glow of the console panels and the holographic candles. Her eyes were closed in quiet contemplation, her thoughts reaching out to the Bajoran Prophets in silent prayer. 

The weight of their mission hung heavy upon her, the elusive USS Constitution and its crew lost in the vast expanse of the Delta Quadrant. For some time now, the Themis had been assigned the mission of finding the missing member of their squadron, but alas, they had not been fortunate. Besides the probe the Constitution sent through folded space, there was no clue where they were. Using the experimental hyper-subspace communication systems installed on their ships, the Themis had tempted to raise the missing ship several days ago, but something was blocking the call. So far, they didn’t know why.

Too many mysteries. 

Instead, Cambil had felt she might find some answers by reaching out to the Prophets. At least, she hoped, her signal would get through to them. As she sought solace in her faith, the tranquillity of the moment was abruptly shattered by the chime of her ready room door. With a composed exhale, Captain Cambil straightened her jacket as she stood up, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead.

“Enter,” she called, her voice carrying a sense of quiet authority laced with determination. She pressed a button on her desk, and the holographic candles vanished, followed by the ready room’s illumination increasing to its standard level. Some normality, she thought. 

The door slid open, admitting Commander Tremt Hunsen, her first officer. In his hand, he held a PADD containing the latest sensor readings, his expression marked by a blend of concern and unwavering resolve.

“Tremt, please tell me you’ve got some good news,” Cambil remarked, motioning for him to take a seat across from her desk as she took her own seat. 

Hunsen approached slowly before sitting, the weight of their shared burden evident in the furrow of his brow. “Sorry, captain, we’ve completed another sweep of the surrounding space. Regrettably, we’ve yet to determine the source of the signal interference interfering with our attempts to reach the Constitution.”

Cambil’s features tightened with frustration, her worry for the missing vessel gnawing at her resolve. “How far are we from the origin point of the interference?”

“T’Rani estimates approximately two weeks at maximum warp, barring any unforeseen complications,” Hunsen replied, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.

“Two weeks,” Captain Bexa echoed, her mind already calculating the myriad possibilities that lay ahead. “Very well, have our new chief flight control officer lay in a course and engage at maximum warp. In the meantime, continue monitoring the situation closely. I want regular updates on our progress.”

Hunsen nodded in acknowledgement, his commitment unwavering in the face of uncertainty. “Aye, Captain.”

“Anything else, Tremt?” Cambil asked. 

Hunsen shook his head. “Nothing to worry you with, ma’am.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Cambil said as she looked at him. They had gotten to know one another a lot since she took command of the Themis earlier in the year. After almost eight months of serving together in their new roles, they had developed a strong routine with one another. “What is it?”

“I know this is important, and I had a feeling you would order us to find out, but it’s another two weeks of the crew not doing much,” Hunsen remarked. 

Sighing, Cambil couldn’t disagree with him. “Perhaps, however, it does give you another two more weeks to spend quality time with your gorgeous new son!”

Hunsen smirked at the mention of his newborn. It had only been a couple of months since he had become a father, and it had certainly changed him. Cambil knew it would and was pleased to see the transformation that Hunsen had undergone these past few weeks. The Betazoid man was more relaxed while on duty while at the same time being extra cautious and protective of the ship and its crew. He certainly didn’t want anything wrong to happen to it. Thankfully, what had made him more settled was down to Captain Louwanna Horin, Hunsen’s Imzadi, who had temporarily transferred from the Odyssey to the Themis after the birth of Eddim (their son) so she and he could be with Hunsen. Horin and Hunsen wanted to make something of their new family life, and spending it together seemed right while she was on maternity leave. Fleet Captain McCallister hadn’t stopped the request; a father himself, he knew how important it was for a family to be together. Nevertheless, Cambil knew that her former captain and squadron leader would soon want his chief counsellor back. When that would be, even she didn’t know. 

“Yeah, I suppose there’s that,” Hunsen nodded. “I think Louwanna would appreciate me being around a bit more.”

“I don’t need to be a Betazoid to read your minds. Lack of sleep?” Cambil asked with a chuckle. She had been there herself when her two sons were young. “Plus, over the next two weeks, T’Rani may eventually pop too!”

“Let’s hope that happens figuratively and not literally,” Hunsen said, still smiling. 

“I don’t know, Tremt. Have you seen how big she’s got?” Cambil asked as she got out of her chair and went to the window. “I remember being that big with Leeyum; my ankles were so swollen. Who knows, baby T’Rani-Samris may finally appear.”

“I think Samris would appreciate a bit more time,” Hunsen said. “I think I’ve scared him with a few horror stories!”

Turning back around to face her first officer, Cambil smiled at him. If she was any other captain, this type of talk about babies and young families may not have occurred. That said, having both her first officer and second officer taking paternity and maternity leave, respectively, at this point did cause some logistical nightmare for her. She was thankful that Fleet Captain McCallister had reassigned Lieutenant Andar to the Themis to take over from T’Rani as its chief flight control officer. The Phylosian officer was impressive and was certainly not being challenged in being the Deputy Starfighter Squadron leader. T’Rani, on the other hand, had to be persuaded to take on a more command-level role. It was natural for her to progress and take over as Senior Officer of the Watch. Cambil felt it gave her a bit more flexibility once she became a new mum. However, T’Rani, in typical fashion, did not see it that way. Nevertheless, she had relented and realised the logic and understanding that it was time in her career to move on beyond the helm. 

“How’s the betting pool going in guessing when the newest addition to the crew will arrive,” Cambil inquired.

“Still waiting on you to give us your guess!” 

Cambil rubbed her chin before placing her hands on her hips. “Put me down for two weeks’ time once we arrive wherever this interference is coming from.”

“Done!” Hunsen said as he typed it into his PADD. “Anything else, ma’am?”

She shook her head and dismissed him. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at the starfield and wondered if they would ever find out where the Constitution was. However, she knew they needed to discover what was stopping them from reaching out. 

One of the many mysteries the Delta Quadrant loved to throw their way!


Stardate: 78580 – Four Weeks Later

USS Themis (NCC-76554), Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant

Captain Cambil stepped out of her ready room with a PADD in her left hand and a mug of Deka tea in the other. She surveyed the bridge, and a sense of anticipation hung in the air like a charged particle awaiting release. She sipped her Deka tea, the warmth soothing against the backdrop of uncertainty. Looking up at the command pit, she noticed T’Rani sat in her chair. T’Rani’s composed demeanour belied the gravity of their situation, her presence a testament to Vulcan stoicism amidst the possible upcoming chaos.

“Report, commander,” Cambil inquired, her voice steady yet brimming with curiosity as she approached the command centre.

T’Rani gracefully rose from the chair despite her heavy pregnancy and relayed the ship’s progress. “We should be at our destination in approximately twenty-seven and a half minutes.”

“I’ll take over from here; you go take a break,” Cambil offered, genuine concern etched in her smile. 

Before T’Rani could voice her protest, Abbej interjected, urgently diverting attention. “Captain, I’ve got something!” 

Intrigued, Cambil and T’Rani joined Abbej at the science console, where the Boslic officer unveiled her findings. Abbej pointed to her readings. “Long-range sensors detected a high amount of radiation at our destination, and now that we’re closer, I’ve been able to get a clearer picture.”

T’Rani’s raised eyebrow betrayed her concern. “Any insights into the nature of this radiation?”

Abbej nodded, her focus unwavering. “It’s Adler-Lasky temporal radiation. It’s indicative of a temporal anomaly, Captain.”

Cambil’s gaze darted towards the helm as she issued orders. “Andar, reduce our speed to warp six.”

The Phylosian nodded their fuzzy artichoke-shaped head. “Aye, ma’am, but it will increase our estimated arrival time by another hour if not two.”

“I know; I want more time to see what we’ve got ahead of us,” Cambil remarked.

“Time is certainly an apt choice of word,” Abbej stated. 

Tapping her combadge, Cambil wanted all her senior staff to discuss this new revelation. After making the call, the captain turned back to her science officer. “Anything else of interest?”

Abbej nodded as she kept her focus on the sensor readings. “The anomaly is planet-side; it looks like the fourth or fifth planet. I can’t be sure. There’s a lot of chronokinetic interference at this range, but I am picking up life signs.”

“How many?” T’Rani asked as the turbolift doors to the aft of the bridge opened to reveal the arrival of Forbes, Hunsen and Jines. The three men made their way over to them.

“I’m detecting around five million humanoids,” Abbej stated. She compared their biology to the Starfleet database, and a match appeared. “They’re Krenim.”

 “Krenim?” Forbes echoed, curiosity gleaming in his eyes

“The temporal buffs, right?” Hunsen asked as he leant against the bulkhead with his left shoulder and crossed his arms. 

Cambil nodded, her expression grave yet resolute. “Temporal aficionados, in a sense. Voyager encountered them, albeit briefly, during its journey. The Krenim Imperium’s reputation precedes them, especially in temporal sciences.”

“Then perhaps we are approaching their territory?” Jines offered. 

Pulling up the star charts that Voyager had made over twenty-seven years ago, Abbej showed them what was meant to be territory held by the Krenim back then. “I appreciate this data is old, but we’re far from the Imperium’s borders, suggesting this could be a distant colony.”

Cambil turned to Decter, her tone decisive. “Send a preemptive message to the colony. Diplomacy first.”

Jines nodded and went straight over to the operations station. At that point, the rest of the senior staff arrived. Lenjir and Samris made their way to their stations while Commander Ramona Perez wandered over. Themis’ new chief engineer was a welcome figure as part of the ship’s senior staff. 

“Did I just hear someone is finally letting go of the pressure on my engines?” Perez’s voice carried a playful edge as she directed her inquiry towards Cambil, her longtime acquaintance from their days at the Academy as instructors.

Cambil, now standing in front of the command chair, shared a knowing smile with Perez, their camaraderie evident even in the midst of their duties aboard the Themis. “We’re taking it easy momentarily, just to see what’s ahead of us,” she replied, her tone a blend of familiarity and the weight of their responsibilities.

“Ma’am, I’m detecting a distress call coming from the Krenim colony,” Jines reported.

Concerned to hear that, Cambil looked at him. “What do they say?”

“It’s a bit garbled, sir,” Jines replied. “Something about an overload, that’s about what we can make out. The temporal anomaly is affecting its content.” 

“This temporal anomaly must be stopping us from contacting the Constitution,” Hunsen suggested.

“You may be right, Number One,” Cambil agreed. “Are there any other ships in the area that can lend a hand? I can’t see us being able to support over five million people.”

Lenjir from the tactical station behind Cambil spoke up. “Captain, I’m detecting the U-S-S Constellation. They’re on the edge of the sector.”

“The Constellation?” Cambil echoed. “I didn’t realise they were this far out in the Delta Quadrant.”

T’Rani, who had now stationed herself at the mission ops station, spoke up. “The Constellation is on a deep space assignment working with scientists from the Romulan Free State.”

“Captain Taes is still in command, right?” Cambil checked, looking at T’Rani.

“I believe so, ma’am.” 

“You know, Captain Taes?” Hunsen asked from his chair.

“Only by reputation,” Cambil said as she crossed her arms and gave Perez a look. If Hunsen had read her mind at that point, he would have heard her remember the things they had heard about Taes via their old Academy contacts. Taes’ time at the Delta IV annexe had come back to them. The Deltan had gathered a reputation back when she was a cadet herself. She was known for hating the dorms and the sensory overload of so many cadets.  Shaking her head, the Bajoran woman looked at her operations officer. “Decter, send Captain Taes a request to see if they can join us.”

Jines nodded before he checked something and spoke up. “Ma’am, the Constellation is a week away at their best speed.”

“Surely more hands to help out is better than nothing?” Samris asked.

Cambil agreed with that point. “Send the message.” She took her seat as she gathered her thoughts on what she was committing her ship and possibly the Constellation to. 

Moments later, Jines confirmed Captain Taes’s agreement. 

“Here we go then,” Cambil stated as she told everyone to prepare for whatever lay ahead.

You Changed The Ending – 4

USS Themis (NCC-76554), Jameeta System, Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78594

The USS Themis was ensnared in a chaotic web of subspace anomalies, each one a potential threat to the ship’s integrity. These anomalies, like a relentless tempest, sent shockwaves through the vessel, causing it to shudder and groan under the strain. The blaring red alert, a piercing testament to the severity of the situation, echoed urgently throughout the ship.

On the bridge, crew members darted from station to station, their movements swift and purposeful, their faces etched with a mix of perseverance and strain. Sparks erupted in the air as engineering teams scrambled to reinforce critical systems. 

“Report!” Captain Cambil’s voice cut through the racket, commanding attention amidst the chaos of the bridge. Her grip tightened on the arms of her chair, a lone strand of hair escaping the confines of its tie, a testament to the ship’s tumultuous journey.

“Structure integrity is holding, but I’m diverting power to the inertial dampeners,” Perez’s voice rang out from the engineering station, determination evident despite the strain in her tone. “Warp core stability remains unaffected.”

“Shields holding steady, Captain,” Lenjir’s assurance came from behind at the tactical console, a stalwart presence amidst the storm.

“Seems like we’re navigating our way through it, Captain,” Andar’s voice carried a note of relief from the helm, signalling a glimmer of hope amidst the turbulence.

The Themis shuddered several more times, each jolt was a reminder of the unpredictable nature of their predicament before it was finally spat out from the grip of the subspace anomalies.

“We’re through,” reported Abbej. “I think it was a bubble of temporal energy.”

“A bubble?” Hunsen questioned. 

“A subspace anomaly compromising of suppressed temporal energy,” Abbej summarised. “But from what I can tell, it’s,” she paused as she looked at the sensors. “Ma’am, I’m detecting the Constellation off the starboard bow.”

Cambil’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned her gaze towards Hunsen upon receiving the unexpected news. It was a pleasant surprise to discover that the Constitution III-class ship had arrived ahead of schedule, and the realisation brought a glimmer of hope to their mission. “Andar, get us free and far from that bubble and then Decter open a channel to Captain Taes.”

Both men in front of her complied with their orders, and a few seconds later, the image of Captain Taes on her bridge appeared.

“Captain Taes, welcome to the Jameeta system,” Cambil greeted her counterpart.

Captain Taes’ holographic transmission didn’t respond immediately.  Rubbing the back of her neck, Taes took a breath that started from deep down.  She shook her bald head, and then she became still.  At the same time, a pleasant smile had snapped into place over her visage.

It is most gratifying to meet you, Captain Cambil,” Taes said.  “Our rendezvous has proven gruelling in equal parts.  Although Constellation reached the Jameeta system some hours ago, we passed through a time rift into Onitha’s distant past and have only just escaped.  We have not been able to make contact with the colony.

Intrigued by Taes’ remarks, Cambil was confused by what was happening here. “It would appear, Captain, that we have been the victims of some temporal shenanigans. We, too, have struggled to raise the Krenim. Maybe we should attempt to coordinate our efforts so we can find out what has happened here?”

Taes nodded once at Cambil’s suggestion, maintaining eye contact until she tilted her head to nod at someone outside the visual sensor range of the viewscreens.

Our science officer will make our sensor logs available,” Taes amicably said.  “Between our two crews, I trust we can handle temporal shenanigans.

Abbej then shared a report from the science station. It was delivered with an air of urgency, the tone laced with concern as the readings scrolled across the monitors. The pulsating lights indicated an unsettling combination: chroniton radiation, tachyons, and polaric ion energy suffused the surrounding space, hinting at a profound disruption in the delicate balance of the space-time continuum. “Temporal rifts are forming around us,” she warned, her eyes darting between the myriad of displays.

Cambil furrowed her brow, absorbing the gravity of the situation. “We must proceed with extreme caution,” she advised her voice firm yet tinged with apprehension.

But before any course of action could be decided upon, a colossal temporal rift materialised before them, the very fabric of reality warping and distorting in its wake. Within moments, the ominous void gave birth to two looming silhouettes, their angular forms casting eerie shadows across the bridge.

“Krenim vessels?” Hunsen queried, his fingers hovering over the control panel in anticipation. The tension on the bridge was palpable as the crew held their breath, waiting for Lenjir’s confirmation.

“Confirmed,”’ Lenjir replied, his gaze fixed on the approaching ships on the tactical station’s sensor readings. “Their shields are at maximum, and their weapons are charging up.”

Abbej interjected, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. “Captain, these ships bear an unusual quantum signature.”

Cambil’s expression hardened as she processed the information. “In what way, commander?” she inquired, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Quantum scans indicate that they appear to be from two and a half decades ago,” Abbej explained, her fingers dancing across the interface as she analysed the data. “Yet their quantum signature deviates only slightly from the norm.”

“An alternate timeline,” Perez proposed from the aft engineering station, her voice tinged with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

Cambil’s jaw tightened with resolve. She had been here before with temporal mechanics on the Odyssey and wasn’t keen on another round. 

“Precisely my thoughts,” Abbej replied, her gaze locking with the captain’s as they braced themselves for whatever temporal anomaly awaited them.

The holographic feed of Captain Taes on Constellation’s bridge compressed to one-quarter of the viewscreen.  The audio was momentarily silenced as Taes gave orders to her own bridge crew.

The audio returned when Taes said, “As much as it will put as at a disadvantage, I must recommend holding our respective positions.  The topology of the temporal rifts appears to be in a continuous flux.  We must circumvent those rifts as much as the Krenim vessels.  Shall we send a joint message of friendship, sharing the frequency of Onitha’s distress call?

Cambil agreed to Taes’ suggestion, and both crews simultaneously sent the message.

Jines then spoke up from ops. “Ma’am, we’re getting a response.”

“Put it up so both ships can see it,” Cambil ordered as she nestled into her chair.

The viewscreen was altered to show the incoming hail. A Krenim man sat in a chair, almost swirling on its axis, and looked at both captains with nearly utmost distaste. 

“Who are you?” 

Cambil took a breath as she answered on their behalf. “Captains Cambil and Taes of the Federation starships Themis and Constellation.

“And you’re reasons for being here?” He asked. The Krenim commander was more bothered about ensuring his uniform was neat and tidy as he brushed one of its shoulders. His focus was no longer on either Cambil or Taes.

“We were responding to the distress call coming from the Krenim colony,” Cambil replied. “However, we’ve had a few difficulties since arriving with these temporal bubbles. I believe you’ve just exited one yourself. Perhaps if we work togeth-”

“No!” The Krenim captain responded angrily. His focus was now back on Cambil and Taes. We will not work with you. Who do you think you are? One of your ships has already violated our space, and we will not submit to your hostile invasion of our realm. Surrender now or be destroyed.”

 Cambil raised her eyebrow at the Krenim leader. She was sure he had no idea he was from an alternative timeline. Though she was intrigued by who this other Starfleet ship was. “We don’t respond well to threats,” Cambil replied.

And still,” Taes added emphatically, “we maintain our offer of aid to your colony.  Have you contacted the source of the–

“Either you surrender, or you will not survive our assault.” The Krenim said, almost spitting out every word he spoke. 

As the Krenim crammed more bile and vexation into every word, the more still Taes became in response.  On her own bridge, she was sat in her captain’s chair with her palms laid on her thighs.  She did not flinch at the word surrender.  She did not flinch at the word assault.

We come in peace and friendship,” Taes said.  There was a genuine warmth to her intonation, even if sounded brittle around the edges.  “If your colony’s distress call was an elaborate ruse to lure us here, I do not regret answering the call.  Our offer of aid is genuine.  However, our crews are under our care too.  We will never surrender.

Determined not to be beaten by a bully, Cambil agreed with Taes’ comments before ordering the ship to red alert. “All hands, battle stations!”

You Changed The Ending – 7

Onitha, Jameeta System, Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78594.5 (August 2401)

As Doctor Nelli and Ensign Andar burst into the chamber, they were immediately swallowed by the chaos, mirroring the scene that had forced their abrupt arrival—a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through their vines. The acrid stench of burnt circuitry and scorched metal, mingled with the faint tang of ozone, assaulted their senses, intensifying their sense of urgency.

Once a bastion of scientific advancement, the lab now lay in ruins. The remnants of its once-sleek equipment were scattered haphazardly across the floor, their exposed wiring occasionally sparking with a hint of the unknown. Shattered screens and broken consoles, their cracked surfaces still faintly glowing, added to the enigma of the scene. The walls, marked with deep scorch marks and gouges, whispered of the catastrophic forces unleashed in the name of experimental research.

In the centre of the room, the Paradox Machine loomed ominously, its once-smooth surface marred by fractures and scorch marks. The device, a complex array of interwoven crystalline matrices and temporal flux regulators, flickered erratically, struggling to maintain cohesion. Streams of raw temporal energy arced dangerously from its core, illuminating the devastated lab with an eerie, otherworldly light.

Doctor Nelli’s eye stems darted across the room, spotting the lead scientist, Doctor Irlina, crumpled against a wall; her form was hidden by debris. Nelli’s agile tendrils moved with precision, deftly lifting the debris and revealing Irlina’s unconscious form. The Krenim’s uniform was singed, her face pale and marked with minor cuts from the explosion.

“She’s alive,” Nelli called out, their voice a soothing blend of concern and determination through their vocoder. They quickly administered a hypospray from their medical kit. Their tendrils, infused with a gentle bioluminescence, glowed softly as they performed a rapid assessment, ensuring no critical injuries.

Andar moved through the lab with a sombre expression. Each step was measured, their focus on the Krenim scientists scattered across the room. They knelt beside each one, checking for any signs of life. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional crackle of damaged equipment.

“They’re all gone,” Andar said quietly, their voice heavy with regret as they approached Nelli. “No one else survived.”

Nelli’s tendrils gently supported Irlina as she began to stir, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around, confusion and sorrow etched on her face as the reality of the situation settled in. After briefly introducing themselves to her, Nelli and Andar listened carefully as Irlina tried to recall what had happened to find herself in this situation. 

“The Paradox Machine… it… it went out of control,” she whispered, her voice weak. Irlina’s gaze turned to the still-active Paradox Machine, fear and determination warring in her eyes. “It has to be shut down… before it causes more damage. The temporal feedback. It could unravel everything and cause more damage to the space-time continuum.”

Realising the seriousness of what the Krenim scientist was sharing with them, Nelli and Andar immediately told their captains what they had found. 

“Take me over there,” Irlina feebly raised her hand, pointing to what appeared to be the main controls of the Paradox Machine. 

Andar, concerned by the scientist’s insistence on remaining with her experiment, tried to assure her to rest. “Please, doctor, you are in no shape to move. Let Doctor Nelli treat you.”

“We are more than likely sat within a temporal bubbly ourselves; time could be displaced, I need to know,” Irlina said as she pushed herself up and off the ground. 

Knowing there was no way they could stop her, Nelli gave Andar an indicator to help the doctor to her feet. Andar extended their tendrils to support the Krenim’s broken body and guided her to where she needed to be.

After studying the console for a few seconds, Irlina slumped her shoulders. “As I predicted, we are in a temporal bubble.”

“A temporal bubble?” Andar echoed. “What does that mean?”

“Somehow, the Paradox Machine has changed the pace of time for us within the laboratory. I can’t be sure how yet, but time for us is moving faster than what is happening outside,” Irlina answered. She kept her breaths short and sharp as she spoke. “We must fix the Paradox Machine to create a temporal reset. It would seem that somehow the machine is allowing for the time differential between our bubble and normal space-time, which your ships exist in.”

“How can we help?” Andar asked.

Pressing a few more buttons, Irlina loaded up a diagnostic of the machine. “When the Paradox Machine exploded, it created these tears in the space-time continuum—essentially, creating doorways into alternative timelines. Parts of the machine have ended in those timelines. We must retrieve them to fix the Paradox Machine so I can perform a reset.”

“Surely we need to know what caused the overload in the first place?” Nelli asked. “To avoid it happening again.”

Irlina nodded and brought up the temporal sensor logs from the incident. “The Paradox Machine was overloaded by the amount of alternative timelines it had detected.”

“There’s that many?” Andar inquired.

“Indeed,” Irlina nodded faintly. “And a majority of them all are caused by your Starfleet.”

Both Phylosians turned their heads to look at each other after hearing that statement. Nelli, the senior ranking officer in the room, moved their scarlet-eye stems towards Irlina to respond.

“How can you be certain?” Nelli challenged.

“See for yourself,” Irlina pointed to the barely operational display beside her.

Slithering over, Andar and Nelli reviewed the contents of what the Paradox Machine was telling them. In almost every scene they studied, Starfleet was involved in some sort of way, from an alternative timeline based in the Delta Quadrant, where the Krenim Imperium were superior but were wiped out by some intervention by Voyager, to another where Starfleet was barely holding the lines against the Klingons who were almost the rulers of the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. There were so many different iterations of the past and the present. Realising they had to do something, Andar and Nelli agreed to stay with the doctor, contact their ships, and find a way to fix this mess.

You Changed The Ending – 9

Cockpit, USS Rubenstein
August 2401

Lieutenant Nune offered no reaction to the sensor alarm flashing on his science station.  He sat still.  He held his breath.  He swallowed his excitement at the opportunity to see something exceedingly rare – to see it with his own eyes.  If anything, what caught his attention most was the decorative teal band circling the cuff of his uniform sleeve.  He watched the way it folded while he worked the LCARS interface.  Seeing it now, in this time, something about it offended his space.

After taking a steadying breath, Nune said, “Commander Perez, may I suggest applauding your science chief?”  Despite the hint of whimsy in his choice of words, he put no humour in his tone.  He made the suggestion meekly as if it might be immediately discarded.

When he spoke, Nune looked near her.  He effectively nodded at Perez, who was sat beside him in the pilot’s seat.  He made every movement that would be expected of him in polite society.  He showed respect, he showed engagement, except he only looked near her.  He didn’t look at her.  He hadn’t done, not even once, since boarding the runabout Rubenstein.

“They’re here, commander,” Nune reported.  “The negative particles Doctor Irlina needs to recharge her paradox machine are less than fifteen lightyears away from our position in this parallel universe.  Back in our own timeline, there were no negative particles to be found outside the Galactic Barrier.”

“Understood,” Perez said as she altered their course and engaged the runabout’s warp engines. “We should arrive within the hour,” she added. Pushing a stray lock of hair back behind her left ear, she turned to Nune. “so, are we going to remain professional throughout this entire mission?”

Although he could feel a greater meaning beneath her words, Nune feigned otherwise when he said, “Of course, commander.  Professionally is how I would be expected to respect the chief engineer of the Themis.”

Placing the ship on autopilot, Perez couldn’t quite believe how formal Nune was being with her. “Leander, are you honestly going to come back with that?” She asked, without giving him a chance to reply. “We worked together for over two years. You were one of my most promising officers under me at Starbase Three-Ten.”

“What I’m hearing you say is that I was typically unprofessional when we worked together on Starbase Three-Ten?” Nune asked.  It wasn’t fair, he knew.  He was nitpicking her words, he knew.  But there was a lot of emotion radiating off of Perez, and nitpicking was easier than the other thing.

“Oh my god, is this to do with that performance review I gave you before you left for Starbase Seventy-Two?” Perez challenged him. 

“No, it’s not that,” Nune said.  He could hear how defensive he sounded, but that accusation had genuinely caught him by surprise.

“Leander, I cannot believe you’ve kept that at the forefront of your mind for so long!”  Perez said, astonished at his response. She returned her focus to the controls before her. “You were one of the many engineers under me that I had come over to my home almost every night for a home-cooked meal. In fact, you once helped my son with his science fair assignment. Why would you think I thought differently about you when we worked so closely with each other?”

Nune insisted, “It’s not the performance review.  It was never the performance review.  But I do think you think differently about me.  You see me differently than over those dinners.  I don’t want that.”

“Oh, Leander, do you honestly think that one time I gave you pointers on improving your performance as an engineer and a Starfleet officer? It does not completely reflect what I thought about you back then.” Perez questioned with astonishment. “Now look at you.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Nune asked.  He posed it as a question, but it was clearly an accusation, too.  “What now?”

“Well, I mean you’re a science officer on one of Starfleet’s newest explorers, that’s a…” She paused as she considered her words. “A surprising achievement.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Nune emphatically said. “That right there.  When you call it surprising, you mean…?”

“I mean, I’m surprised you’re not the chief engineer,” Perez responded. “You had a strong talent for it, and when I heard you had picked up that gig on the Sarek, I was proud of you. It was one of the reasons why I eventually left Starbase Three-Ten and joined the Themis. I needed to get out here and explore.”

“Yeah, I never thought you would leave Three-Ten,” Nune said, far more softly.  “Themis is a beaut, but you were leading an entire complex and shipyard on the base.”

“Well, with both of my two now grown-up and making their own choices, the nest at Starbase Three Ten seemed empty,” Perez explained. “Plus, Bexa made a good plead.”

Nune averted his gaze again.  “Taes made a good plea for me to lead engineering on Constellation.  I’m the one– I didn’t want it.  I almost didn’t come on this away mission because I was scared you’d think less of me.  Scared you’d be disappointed in me for walking away from engineering.”

“Less of you? No, certainly not,” Perez answered. “Disappointed you didn’t carry on…I just hope you’re not missing out on career opportunities.”

Shrugging, Nune said, “If I miss out on opportunities, then they were never really mine.  I’m not owed them.”

“You were one of the finest engineers, Leander, there weren’t many I knew who could keep their cool when trying to by-pass an EPS conduit that was close to exploding,” Perez stated. “Are you sure you want this?” She asked sincerely.

“I did want it.  I did.  At the time,” Nune admitted.  “I spent so long not knowing my own mind, I took great strength from knowing something I did want.  Even if it didn’t make sense, even if it wasn’t a progression.  I did want it at the time.  I don’t know if I want it now.”

You Changed The Ending – 11

Onitha, Jameeta System, Swallow Nebula region, Delta Quadrant
Stardate: 78595

Realising the complexity of the matter ahead of her, Doctor Irlina knew that her work was vital. The wrong move or the wrong calculation would not just make things worse; it could potentially plunge them into a deeper temporal tornado of mess and chaos. After working with her saviours (as she had called them) from the Constellation and Themis, she and her team (all of whom had been treated) worked meticulously as they completed the final repairs to the Paradox Machine. 

After thanking Lieutenant Andar and Doctor Nelli for helping them and risking their own lives, Irlina knew that the two Starfleet crews were intent on restoring the space-time continuum that had been shattered around her colony. Though she had found meeting two plant-based lifeforms fascinating (Nelli and Andar were extremely friendly officers), Irlina had found her interactions with Captains Taes and Cambil the most stimulating. The Paradox Machine had worked; however, it had not been prepared for the number of different timelines it had detected in the galaxy. A majority of them, though, had been based around Starfleet interactions. She had wondered if this was a sign of things to come. How much did this Federation from the other side of the galaxy involve themselves in temporal mechanics? She thought her people’s state was too involved sometimes, but this was different. 

What impressed her the most was how both captains were prepared to restore the damage done. They didn’t have to do that. They could have just turned their ships around and left Irlina and her people to attempt to fix everything. But without their help, she was sure they couldn’t have got this far so soon. She couldn’t express enough gratitude to Captains Taes, Cambil, and their crews for their invaluable support and assistance. 

The Paradox Machine became active as her assistants installed the chroniton integrator’s last part.

“Send a message to the Constellation and the Themis to standby,” Irlina told her team. 

They did as they were told, and Irlina stepped forward, checking the temporal sensors one more time. “I’m scanning the space-time continuum,” she said, Confident that everything was moving in the right direction. “I’m powering up the machine for the last stage,” she smiled. 

She watched the sensors from the machine display how the negative energy that one of the joint away teams had collected was being used to power the device. It was slowly closing the temporal rifts—one at a time.

“It’s working!” She exclaimed.

With the final rift about to be closed, Irlina increased the power of the Paradox Machine. As the last temporal bubble dissipated with a simple beep, she felt a sense of accomplishment. She checked her sensors one last time and confirmed they had successfully completed their mission. 

“Well done everyone!” She shouted at the top of her voice as she started the shutdown sequence for the machine. “Let’s get this thing shut down…” Pausing, Irlina knew her life’s work had to end there. “…for good.” She added. 

It was a bittersweet moment for her, but Irlina knew that her people, even the galaxy, weren’t ready for what she had created. More calculations needed to be made. Time wasn’t something she could mess with so easily. She knew that even more so now. This experience had taught her, and everyone involved the crucial need for caution and meticulousness in temporal mechanics. 

That said, it wouldn’t stop her from trying again

She smirked to herself before calling out for someone to get the two Starfleet captains one more time to thank them.