

T I M E

Squared

(Vol. 1)

By Brian K. Larson

Time Squared

Brian K. Larson

Published by Slipstream Publishing

at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Brian K. Larson

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

This is a work of fiction, all the characters and events in this novel that appear similar to persons living or dead are unintentional and are completely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This work is dedicated to the tireless hours of my editing team. Thank you for putting up with my errors. I tend to type faster than my keyboard, so again, thank you for making this an even better read. Without your suggestions, this book wouldn't be what it is today.

CONTENTS

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Epilogue

Sneak Peek

More by Author, Brian K. Larson

One

If someone were to time travel to our past and change events, some say we would never know the difference of what was or what would have been?

No, only in the far reaches of our minds; those darkest retreats that makes up a small part of us. This is the place it is said where dust and cobwebs lay. It is there, within our mind; within our dreams, it is only there, we can change reality.
Earth Year:

2516/03/12 - 15:45:10

Jupiter Station

"Jonas!" a dark-haired, fit-looking woman shouted. Tipper Montgomery stood on the opposite side of the main Jupiter station causeway. Passing each other on the turbo-walk, she leaned over the railing, and cupped her hand like a bullhorn. Tipper shouted loudly. Her shrill voice was so loud her great-great-great... great grandfather could hear her all the way to his grave on Earth, "Clint's looking for you!"

Jonas Arnell, a mid-thirties medium build with short blond hair combed to one side, spun around to see who was attacking his eardrum. "Oh, hey Tipper! I see you've not changed any since the last time."

"Clint needs you!"

"Ah, sweetie, I wish you hadn't said it like that!"

"...station command center! A-SAP!"

"What's that, Tip? I can't hear you!" Jonas yelled at the fading woman's voice.

Tipper shook her head and leaped over the railing. She landed in the tracks a meter below. Stepping over the three rails the tram followed around the station. Reaching for the turbo-walk railing, Jonas seeing her peril, moved toward the woman knowing she'd need a leg up to reach the turbo-walk.

Jupiter Station sat in orbit four-hundred and twenty thousand kilometers from the gas giant, in a synchronous orbit around IO, Jupiter's fifth moon. The fierce gravitational pull of Jupiter, and the opposing forces of the orbiting Europa and Ganymede, is what keep the station locked in its path around Jupiter. The station completes one cycle every forty-two and a half hours. Two sections comprised Jupiter station. A main ring rotated along a central spine. Its length of the spire was three times that of the ring diameter. The command platform, at the center spine was the heart of operations, and the one half kilometer diameter ring housed twenty thousand employees.

Looking down the tracks, Jonas noticed illumination pouring out of the tram's tunnel. Pushing his way past the crowd of people to the woman, knowing time was short. Reaching his hand over the railing he grabbed for her.

Missing twice, Jonas continued to run against the turbo-walk, stretching as far over the rail as possible. At last, she reached his hand and squeezed tight. He pulled her to safety, as the passing railway zipped past them, missing both by inches.

She came over the railing, fell into his arms, and together, fell backward hitting the moving deck. The platform caused them to tumble until Tipper gained her footing. Standing to her feet, she reached out and grabbed Jonas's collar and yanked him to his feet.

Stumbling twice, Jonas gained his footing and resumed along the turbo-walk. He turned, looking into Tipper's blue eyes. His gaze following her figure to the ground and back to her eyes, ending with a nod of satisfaction, "You been workin' out again, Tip? Them are some pretty impressive guns you're sportin' these days."

"Ah, Jonas, you noticed," Tipper brazenly smiled, "I see you haven't changed either." Tipper flexed her right bicep, and with pointed finger, her bulging muscle popped erect. "See, these here guns are to keep you at bay."

"Whattya saying, Tip?"

"That it's good to see you too, Jonas," Tipper replied, poking his ribs.

"Ouch!" he grabbed her wrist and held her hand at bay, "Say, when'd you get here, anyway?"

"I was lucky enough to arrive a couple of hours ago; seems our very own OPS Director has a mission for me."

"Director, as in Clint Bartholomew, director?"

"Wise ass..."

"...pompous..."

"...pretentious..."

"Don't forget overblown windbag..."

"Well, let's not go overboard, Jonas."

"He is a windbag!"

"Okay, okay, you're right," Tipper chuckled, "he's a windbag... still, I'd appreciate keeping this to ourselves, m'kay?"

"Right, you've got nothin' ta' worry about."

"Just you saying that gives me plenty of reason to worry."

"Don't be so serious all the time, Tip. 'Sides, that little business two years ago? Ancient history."

"For you, maybe."

"It wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know that the sushi was tainted?"

"You didn't eat any!"

"Right, because I don't eat seafood that's prepared over two miles from water."

"You could have warned me!"

"I tried to..."

"I almost died out there!"

"Oh now, be dramatic..."

"I did; I could have aspirated in my suit!"

"But you didn't, now did ya."

"No thanks to you."

"So," Jonas did his best to change the subject, "Clint wants to see me?"

"Why Jonas Arnell, you're so intuitive. Yes. Clint. That's what I was trying to tell you when we passed each other on the turbo-walk."

"...wants to see me?"

"Yes, that's why we're here. Now, hang on; our exit's coming up," Tipper looked around Jonas and grabbed his coat sleeve, yanking him from the turbo-walk along with her.

"Hey, take it easy... these threads are pricey."

"It's a standard issue flight jacket..."

Jonas walked alongside of Tipper, glancing with raised eyebrows.

"... and I'm pretty sure this was issued."

"Still, no need to yank me to his office."

"Yes there is."

"What, I would get there... eventually."

"When were you planning on gracing him with your presence?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"So you do know?"

"About you being assigned to my team?"

"Yeah."

"No, I don't know a thing about it."

"That's why I have to pull you to his office, huh?"

"That would be because the ship is scheduled to leave tomorrow, so yeah, day after tomorrow works for me."

"Come on, slugger, Mister Bartholomew doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Mister Bartholomew?"

"Well, he's the one signing our credit transfers."

"Where we're going, there ain't any need for credits, Tip."

"I know, I know, but I need to make sure my family's taken care of."

"You don't have family. That's why we were all chosen for this mission."

"Wrong you are, Jonas, I have family... just none of them are alive, that's all."

"Oh boy. Here we go again about the long line of Montgomery's," Jonas said with an eye roll. "You've already tried to convince me that your ancestor was Sigurd Montgomery, legendary hero of Norse mythology..."

"Well, it's true... Even closer to those times, my great, great, great, well, too many greats..."

"Yeah, the Colonel from the Finnish war."

"Yep, Colonel Gustaf Adolf Montgomery, born in 1790. He was old enough to fight in the war of 1808."

"They lost that war."

"Well, he was still a famous Colonel and served as an adjutant in the army of General Carl Johan Adlercreutz."

"Don't you have any new stories to tell me?"

"Give me some time, Jonas, I just got here."

"Yes," Jonas said, now grabbing her arm and pulling her toward a door, "and so are we."

Jonas waved his arm over the door lock, and it promptly slid open, disappearing inside the wall.

Jonas made it appear as if he pulled Tipper inside. Standing in the office foyer, the pair looked square in the eye of one Clint Bartholomew. The door quickly slid closed, sealing the room from the Jupiter station promenade.

Clint, his black skin glistening under the fake lighting of the station and several black spots pocked his face. The tall man's sharp jawline could cut leather if anyone was brave enough to try. Tough as nails, and being a former Marine, he retired to this director's job one year after the last big war. Nobody messed with the director of this station, and he knew it.

Clint's greying tight curly hair gave him a premature aged look, stood with hands on hips. His arms were almost as wide as Earth's ancient telephone poles.

"It's about time you got here!"

"It's all her fault, Director."

Tipper yanked herself from Jonas' grip, "Hey!"

"Next time, you should grab an earlier flight, Ms. Montgomery."

"Thanks a lot," Tipper said, returning a sneer.

"Well, Mister Director..."

"Please, call me Clint."

"...from what I understand about this mission, it's a one-way trip."

"Tipper," Clint answered, "Here, sit down, shall we?" he pointed to a pair of padded chairs. "There. Now, what makes you think it's a one-way trip?"

"Oh, it's not getting there that's the problem," Jonas added, hitting the soft chair with a thud.

Tipper smiled at Jonas, "It's the trip back that's the bitch."

Jonas crossed his legs and relaxed in the chair, "Let me ask you something, Clint."

"Fire away," Clint answered, spreading his arms wide.

"Which of the three targets are we aiming for first?"

Tipper leaned forward, "We've been trying to decide which one for years, Teu Ceti, Kapteyn, or Gliese 832."

"And we're not scheduled to depart for another year," Jonas added, "We've barely tested the FTL drives and time dilation effects."

Clint sat across from the pair, his face turning somber, "Something's happened to advance our departure."

"What's that, Clint?" Jonas asked.

"We've received a signal."

Tipper and Jonas shot forward, "Signal!?"

Jonas relaxed into his chair after the initial shock, "Why wasn't I told about this?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Yeah, less than a day before this new departure date. Now you say we've discovered intelligence?"

"The signal shows intelligence. Its origin is still unknown."

"...where are you sending us, Clint?"

"It's from neither target systems, and we only know that a transmission was sent."

"So where?" Jonas shrugged.

"Gliese 667 Cc, and you'll not like how far it is."

"Okay, I'll bite," Tipper said, "How far we talkin'?"

"Twenty-three point six light years."

"That's a long time in cryo-tubes," Jonas protested.

"Twenty-four years away!?" Tipper exclaimed.

"We think the light drive will exceed all simulated tests."

"Okay, I know we've thought we could achieve maybe twice FTL, but that's still twelve years, Director."

"Your thinking is backwards on the time factor, Jonas. Once you cross the first light barrier, our new test models forecast exceeding six to seven times FTL."

"Come on, Clint," Jonas protested, "You can't be serious."

"Even if Tau Ceti were picked as logical candidates, the closest star at eleven point nine light years, would take five years; that's five Earth years. Only a little more than a year on the ship."

"...and that's the returning bitch factor," Tipper added. "Twenty four light years is nearly fifty Earth years before we return."

"The ship's ready to depart tomorrow. Everything's loaded and your crew is already onboard completing the departure sequence."

"You never answered the time dilation question," Tipper insisted.

"I think you know enough."

"Enough to know you likely won't be alive when we do get back," Jonas said.

Clint gave the pair a grin, "I'm not that old."

"You'd be close to a hundred when we returned."

"If we return," Tipper added.

"It's true, we don't know for sure what you'll find out there. But if we are making first contact, I need to send my best."

"Well," Jonas said, leaning forward again, "We're sure thankful you consider us the best."

"No, I disagree," Tipper protested, "I'm the best," turning to Jonas, "You're not."

"Gee thanks, Tip; love you too."

"You're welcome."

"Now you two behave yourselves..."

"...tell that to her," Jonas said with a pointing thumb.

"...you will be together for a long time."

"Not as long as we'll be away, apparently," Tipper smugly added.

The computer rang alarms, "Station Alert! Station Alert!"

Director Bartholomew swung his hand over the table in front of him, illuminating a Station Hologram and their position.

Jupiter Station quaked as Jonas and Tipper leaned forward.

"It's the damn Marauders again!"

"Jupiter Station is being raided?" Jonas asked.

"They've been coming every four days."

Clint's wireless buzzed in his ear, "Yeah, Clint here... what's our situation?"

"Hey, can't you put that on speakers?" Tipper insisted.

Clint moved his fingers on the hologram, activating the overhead.

"We've got five Marauder ships heading at the station, Sir. They've fired missiles at us!"

"Their target the same as usual?"

"Yes, Sir, but this time, they tripled the missiles. We can't take them all out!"

"Time to impact?"

"Fifteen minutes, Sir."

"Are they still approaching the station?"

"No, Sir, they used their limited FTL and moved off."

Clint turned to Jonas, "Skipper, looks like you must leave now!"

"Now?"

"Yes, get to your ship and get out of here! They're trying to take you out!"

"Why don't they want us to launch?"

"Religious reasoning by the Mars fanatical movement. Now take the turbo all the way to the end of the main spire. You can board there."

"Okay, Clint, you're da boss." Jonas stood and grabbed Tipper by her arm, "Come on, let's move out."

Two

Earth Year:

2516/03/12 - 16:23:17

The Aevus

Jonas and Tipper exited the turbo platform and dove through the ship's hatch. The weightlessness outside the station surprised the two. They grabbed the handholds, stopping themselves from colliding together and spun around.

"Seal this hatch!" Jonas ordered.

Tipper flew to the cover, unlatched the lock and pulled the lid shut to the station. Floating to a panel, she pressed the commands to seal the airlock hatch, while Jonas opened the inner door to their new ship.

"I studied the layout on my way in this morning," Tipper said, leading the way. "Follow me, Skipper."

Jonas followed Tipper as she floated ahead and forward to the flight deck. Hearing in his earpiece the sound of Clint's distressed voice, "You guys gonna leave anytime soon? Those missiles are bearing down!"

Tipper passed through to the flight deck, Jonas close behind, "Yeah, Clint! We've reached the flight deck. How much time we got?"

"Seven minutes and change!"

Jonas took the pilot seat and strapped in, binding his harness extra tight. Making eye contact with another middle-aged black man sporting a snuffed-out short cigar clenched with his teeth. The man saw Jonas' expression and went into action, "Name's Bo, Skipper. I'm pulling all umbilical cords now!"

"Nice to meet ya, Bo. Pull the docking clamps, let's get a movin'. Who's engineering? Somebody give me full power to thrusters... now!"

Tipper floated over to another station where she executed more commands, "Retracting docking clamps... we'll be free in ten seconds!"

"What's your name?" Jonas shouted to where Tipper was taking over control of another crew's station.

"Taylor, Taylor Jorgensen. Sorry, Skipper, no one told me that anyone would fire at us!"

"Well they did," Tipper answered, patting his shoulder, "Get a grip, Taylor. Focus on your station, I'm gonna strap in."

"Come on, people!" Jonas protested, "Where's my thrusters?"

"They're on, but one clamp didn't release all the way," Taylor reported.

"Jonas," Tipper said, strapping into her seat, "Throttle back a sec!"

Jonas relaxed the control stick, and the crew heard the loud clank of metal striking the hull.

Tipper shouted with a smile, "We're free!"

"All I needed!" Jonas jammed the thruster control full forward, "Prepare for positive G-forces!"

The crew was shoved into their seats, their faces contorting from the massive power of the ship pulling away from Jupiter Station.

"Jonas?"

"Yeah, Clint, we're pullin' away now."

The ship's thrusters burned, leaving behind a space contrail as they moved from the docking port.

"Cuttin' it mighty close, Jonas. Missiles will be in range in two minutes."

"We're clear of the station, Clint, but what about you guys? We can circle around to help take those out..."

Another crewman interrupted, "Skipper, this is Sterling. Sir, those Marauders are back on our scope."

"Well, Sterling, what's their course?"

"They're heading on an intercept course, Skip."

"Jonas!" Clint shouted over his wireless, "You get the hell outta here, you understand me? They can't follow you once you accelerate to FTL."

"What about you, Clint?"

"I said don't worry about us or the Jupiter Station, we'll fair okay! I order you to accelerate to FTL... Now!"

"Jonas," Tipper said, glancing over, "Clint's right, we've got's ta' leave!"

"Who's navigation?"

"That would be me, Skipper; Simon Stone."

"Well, Stone, engage our slingshot course. Tipper; acceleration factor ten on those plasma engines."

"Jonas, we can't take factor ten without suits!"

"Ready our adrenalin pumps and get ready for maximum G-force acceleration."

Simon threw his head back and closed his eyes, "Oh, I was hoping we wouldn't have to use the drugs... god I had that!"

"Relax guys, it's only six pin pricks," Tipper said, trying to convince herself more than the others.

"Bunch of pansies," Jonas muttered under his breath. "Sterling! What's going on out there?"

"Jupiter Station took out ten missiles. Five got through. The Marauders are gaining speed. They'll be in firing range in two minutes."

"Jupiter Station," Jonas called over the wireless, "What's your status?"

Several moments of silence occupied the crew, "Jupiter Station, come in!"

"Skipper, two missiles struck the station. Three more were taken out by outside support."

"Outside support?"

"Apparently a Naval frigate arrived."

"Good timing, PAC... alright, hold on everyone, firing up the plasma drive!" Tipper shouted.

Clenching their eyes tight, each of their chairs inserted three rows of two needles down their back, pumping their bodies with anti-acceleration drugs.

The ship's rear engines ignited pushing the craft on the preset course, "Acceleration factor ten," Tipper reported, holding the handles on the sides of her monitor screen. "Ten percent FTL... twenty... fifty... engaging slingshot maneuver... now!"

They flew their course, moving closer to the planet Jupiter, now three-hundred thousand kilometers in altitude they swung around the gas giant at half the speed of light.

"Jonas... Jonas, do you read? Over."

"Clint!" Jonas exclaimed. "I thought you bought it back there."

"We took major damage. One missile struck the docking port. The other took out a small section of the ring. We're estimating casualties at two-thousand. A Navy Frigate from PAC has arrived, but I see you've still got company on your tail."

"They won't catch us anymore, Clint," Tipper added, "We're already executing our slingshot."

"That means we'll be losing instant communications in a minute. You'll be going too fast even for the magnetic pulse relay."

"That, and the time dilation factor kicks in," Jonas said.

The crew heard the sound of metal pinging against the ship's hull, "Debris field!" Tipper shouted.

"Hang on everyone and hope one of those don't come through!" Jonas yelled.

"Sounds like you've got your hands full over there!"

"Just passing through your debris field is all, Clint, no biggie."

"Okay, you don't worry about Jupiter Station, Jonas. Your only concern now is reaching your destination and finding out the origin of that signal."

"Understood! This is... uh, this is, what's our ship's name again?"

Clint chuckled over the wireless, "We've been so rushed, guess we never gave her a designation. You name her, Skipper."

Jonas looked over at his crew and several shouts rang out, "Intrepid," "Lone Star," "Archimedes..."

"No," Jonas thought, "I think I'll name her the Aevus."

Tipper winked at Jonas, "Passage of Time? Really, Jonas?"

"I can't help thinking we'll be busy passing the time, so yeah, the Latin word for that is Aevus."

"Well," Clint said, continuing his chuckle, "you got it, Skipper. The Aevus it is. Good journey's Aevus, see ya on the flip side."

"Approaching slingshot cut-off point. Accelerating past light speed in twenty seconds."

"I wish you luck with the MCO."

"No worries, Jonas, we'll take care of the Mars Consortium, you can bet on that; us and the PAC. We'll keep holding them back from advancing on any of our Stations."

"Five seconds to hook and book!" Tipper reported.

"This is Planetary Alliance Coalition, Aevus, signing off."

"Ready slingshot... now!"

The Aevus swung around Jupiter and broke orbit with the planet to send the ship along their desired course, shuddering and shaking as they approached light speed.

"Sixty percent... seventy... eighty... ninety... ninety-five..."

"The Marauders have turned off, Skipper."

"Can we break off and return to Jupiter Station?"

"You heard what the Director said," Simon added.

"I know, Mister Stone, but we should try to help them if we can."

"Sorry, Jonas," Tipper said with a headshake, "We can't break off acceleration after the slingshot."

"Okay, Gliese 667, here we come."

"FTL in five... four... three..."

The stars bled the color spectrum as they broke the light barrier, the Aevus jolted forward. The crew gazed at the beautiful display, and then the ship quieted as the computers compensated, smoothing the ride.

"Alright everyone, stay focused!" Jonas ordered.

"Continuing to accelerate past light speed times one... times one point three... times one point six..."

Alarms sounded, invading the crew's ears, followed by a hissing noise. Fog formed in the cabin as air vented from the ship.

"Hull breach!" Sterling reported, "We're venting atmosphere!"

"Must've been one of those pieces of shrapnel we hit back there!" Tipper added.

"Find that leak and patch it!"

Bo retracted his adrenalin pump, unbuckled his harness, and headed to an emergency container, "I see the entry point right over here," he pointed.

"Must have gone clean through," Jonas nodded, continuing to monitor his flight controls. "Tip, take a couple down below and find its exit!"

"I'm on it!"

Tipper pressed more commands, removing the drug pump from their backs and then unbuckled her harness. She tried to float in the cabin, surprised that gravity returned to the deck, "Simon, Taylor, you're with me!"

Simon shot his head backward as the pain from the imbedded needles retracted. Taylor smiled at Simon and the two removed their harnesses. They followed Tipper, descending a ladder through a hatch to the lower decks.

"This ship has four levels. Taylor, you search the second. Simon, take three. I'll take four."

Bo reached inside the cabinet and tossed a package to each of them, "Take a patch kit with ya. You'll need one of these when you find it!"

Tipper caught her package, Taylor dropped his, and Simons' kit, fell down the hatch to the deck below.

"Great," Tipper whispered. "Now that's a confidence builder."

The three descended to the lower decks while Bo assembled his patch and placed it over the pinhole. He grabbed the pin laser from the kit, aimed at the patch edges, and melted the substance into the hull.

Jonas looked up from his console, "Say, Bo, you a mechanic?"

"Yes, Sir re, that's why I'm here, Bo 'fro' Richardson at your service, Skipper," Bo shouted over the hissing.

"Fro?"

"Yeah, he's been called worse," Pippen Morgan, the ship's medical doctor and emergency surgeon said. "You can call me Pip, Skipper,"

"Yeah," Bo answered with a wide smile, "You know, I got the fro goin' on," pointing to his premature graying, tight napped afro.

"Good to know that Bo is a fro'en."

"Yeah, well, it suits me," Bo continued smiling, gripping the chewed cigar with his teeth as he fiddled with the patch.

"You always wear that cigar?"

"Yep."

"It's not lit."

"Nope, lasts longer that way. How'd you know I was your mechanic?"

"You look like one, that's all."

"Um, okay... I don't go for any of those stereotypes now, Skipper."

"I meant your clothes, Fro... I mean Bo, your clothes; grease stains, tattered billed cap, and the dirty fingernails; all a dead giveaway."

"Yeah, yeah," Bo laughed, "Then I ain't worried about it boss man."

"Good, cause I'd hate to get off on the wrong foot."

"Well, only one ta' worry about on this voyage is Taylor."

"What's Taylor's story?"

"He's psycho," Bo whispered. "Never get on his bad side... Na, I'm just pullin' your chain, Skipper."

Pippen giggled, glancing between Jonas and Bo.

"I'll keep the psycho part filed away," Jonas nodded.

"Yeah, you do that... might be a good idea."

"Because he really is a psycho?"

"Ain't sayin' no more," Bo smiled, his unlit cigar continuing to hang from his gritted teeth.

"There!" Bo exclaimed as the hissing stopped. "This one's patched up."

Jonas tapped his headset, "Tip? What's our status down there?"

"This is Tipper, Jonas. I found it on deck four. I sealed it up. The venting has stopped. The Cabin pressures should equalize shortly."

"Good work, Tip, head on back up."

"That's not all, Jonas; Taylor discovered a damaged cryo-tube as it passed through."

"I'll be down in a minute. Send Simon up. Bo, take the ship."

"Right, Skipper, no worries, I'll hold the rudder true."

"Actually, I think the computer will do that for us. Just keep an eye on the instruments."

Bo shot a finger toward Jonas and smiled, "Gotcha!"

"Ohhh, I can see I'm in for a long trip."

Jonas descended to the second deck, Simon passing him on the way, "It's not good, Skipper. We might have to turn back."

Jonas paused, "Don't you worry about a thing, Simon. If we have to turn back, then we will; but not before all contingencies are weighed."

"Understood, Skipper."

Jonas continued to the cryo-bay where a concerned Tipper stood with her hands on her hips, "Check it out, Jonas. That piece of shrapnel cut right through tube number three."

"Apparently, when we were executing our slingshot, we flew past the station after it was struck by that missile."

"... and we flew right through the debris field."

"I'd say we were lucky today."

Jonas tapped his wireless, "Bo, have Simon take over and head down here. I need a damage assessment."

"I'm on my way, Skipper."

Bo joined them in less than a minute. His unlit cigar continuing to hang from the corner of his mouth. He saw the damaged cryo-tube, plucked the cigar from his mouth, and let out a long whistle.

"Is that your professional assessment there, Bo?" Jonas asked.

"Sorry, Skipper, no, just taken by surprise, that's all."

"Just give it to us straight! You think we'll have to turn back?"

"If it was just the cryo-tube, no."

"But?"

"But it's not, Skip. We lost a good amount of air pressure."

Tipper nodded in agreement, "He's right, Jonas, we may have no choice if our scrubbers can't replenish our air."

"Right," Bo added, looking over the damage, "We can't have two awake at once. The plan is for all of us to be in cryo-sleep and rotate the crew every ten weeks for maintenance checks. Now with only six good tubes, at least one of us will have to remain awake. That will burn up more air than we forecast."

Taylor inspected the remaining tubes and then shot a glance at Jonas, "Uh, Skipper, we have another one damaged."

Bo came to Taylor's side and shook his head, "Yep. That shrapnel either bounced, or we had a second strike; this one's damaged too."

"That puts us down to five tubes," Tipper said.

Jonas tapped his wireless, "Simon, give me a reading on the ship's pressure? You seeing it drop anymore?"

"Yes, Sir, it's down a little from after we sealed it."

Jonas placed his hands on his hips, "Okay, we've got another leak. Fan out and check every inch of the ship!"

"That means everyone!" Tipper shouted through her wireless.

"Let's move out!"

Three

Earth Year:

2516/03/12 - 17:05:08

Jupiter Station

Alarms rang in Clint's ears. Claxon's rang different tones, alerting personnel where to evacuate damaged sections. Overhead speakers echoed voices blaring orders. The entire promenade in chaos. Through all the confusion, the station workers jumped into action assisting the wounded and sealing off the damaged sections.

Clint shouted over his wireless, cupping his hand over his ear to hear over the commotion, "What's our situation? ... ... I don't want to hear excuses! Seal off ring sections Thirty-Seven-C through Forty-Two-A! ... ... ... Then move them! I understand, but you gotta seal those airlocks down! ... ... Sure, there're more people trapped, but we lose the entire station if you don't do it now!"

Another worker ran into Clint's office, catching himself on the open door frame, "We've got a reactor coolant leak! The Navy ship is prepared for docking to evacuate the station!"

Clint turned his attention from the wireless link to the frantic sounding man, "Calm down, Barry!"

"Sorry, Sir, it's a little hectic..."

Clint's belly shook as he laughed, "A little, son?"

"I don't know how you can laugh at a time like this, Sir."

Clint shook his head at the skinny station worker, "Oh how I would give beaucoup credits for a camera right about now."

"A camera, Sir?"

"Yeah, ta' take a picture of your jaw on the floor. Son, this ain't hectic. I'll tell ya' that right now. No. See, hectic is the final battle in the war I served five years ago... now that was hectic!"

"What should I tell the Navy ship, Sir?"

"Clear them to dock. Get as many as you can on their ship. But I ain't leavin'. See if you can enlist the help of their mechanic for this coolant leak."

"Yes, Sir, right away, Sir."

Barry Patrick took off running in the opposite direction, hands flailing with panic, barking orders to his subordinates.

Explosions sounded across the promenade, shaking the station. Jupiter's gravity pulled the station from its locked orbit as one reactor shut down.

Clint tapped his wireless and shouted over the continuing chaos, "What's the station's position? How long we got before we're crushed under this gas giant? ... ... I don't want to hear you don't know, I need an answer! ... ... ...You've got to redline the secondary; thirty minutes isn't enough time... ... ... Well, how bad is the leak? ... ... ... Okay, that's pretty bad! Let's use the secondary reactor and try to take up the slack... ... How close? Two-hundred thousand kilometers is it? Where we at now? ... ... ... Three-hundred thousand, that's a hundred and twenty thousand kilometer shift! Can we recover if we get all the primaries back online? ... ... How about running the thing minus the coolant? I know, I know, it's risky, but we have to do something! ... ... .... What if that frigate could pull us? ... ... ... Yeah... ... I think that'd work, just a minute," Clint held his hand up at Barry, motioning him to report, "What is it, Barry?"

"The Navy ship is coming around to dock at port 6B, they'll have hard seal in five minutes!"

"How many you got ready to depart?"

"Some of the wounded and families, maybe fifty?"

"Not enough to make a difference."

"Sir?"

"If we don't get this station back in orbit, we'll lose everyone."

"It would take over an hour to Evac the entire station, Sir."

"I know that, son," Clint held his hand up pausing Barry, "Yeah, I'm still here. One minute... yeah, hang on ta' that thought... Barry," Clint said, returning his attention to the shaking man, "Cancel the docking orders..."

"But sir..."

Clint held a finger in the air, "... I need that frigate to hook a line on the end of our spire... I know you're gonna say that section is damaged, but I need them to give us a tow."

"I'm on it, Sir!" Barry shouted orders as he ran from the door.

"Yeah, Barry's alright... good kid, just a little green behind the ears... ... He'll do fine... Clint out."

Not but a second passed as Clint's headset chimed in his ear, "Yeah, Clint here... TJ, yeah, we're handling it, Sir. We're coordinating with the frigate now... if they can hook up the cable, we'll be good... ... ... I know, I know, I'll make preparations for the G-forces... ... Trust me, I'm already feeling the pull... ... any closer and we'll be pulled to the deck... ... I'll crawl if I have to, I'm not giving up the station... ... I know it's an old cliché... ... the Captain still goes down with his ship... okay, thanks, I won't fail you... ... ... What do you mean by that? ... ... ... You make it sound like you know we'll make it... ... you must share with me once this crisis is over... ... ... Here would be fine... ... okay, you got it, TJ. Say, you'll be celebrating your birthday, that'd be a great time to visit... ... how old? ... ... ... Seventy years young... that'll be a great celebration. Looking forward to it... ... ... Wait a second, looks like Barry's got another report, one sec," Clint looked up just as the running man arrived.

"They got the cable stretched, but no way to attach it!"

"Okay, well, how would you go about doing that? And don't take all day to answer! We're down to about twenty-five minutes before we're crushed!"

"We could use some help down there, Sir. It's a pretty bad mess."

"Okay, okay," Clint held his finger to pause the anxious man, "TJ, yeah, I gotta go. I'll keep you apprised... I know you said we'll be fine, and I expect you'll explain what that means. Okay, Sir, you take care... thanks, TJ, I'm just glad you have faith in us out here. I'll report to you when the station is stable, Clint out."

Clint removed his headset, flung it to his desk and headed out of his office, "Okay, get me a suit, I'll get it hooked."

"You, Sir?"

"Well, who else will save this station?"

The pair rushed to the turbo platform, "You have time logged for external pressure suits, Sir? You still certified?"

"Son," Clint chuckled, "I've been logging zero-g time before you were in diapers!"

"Right, Sir, this way."

Clint followed the young lad toward the center spire's turbo platform. They clicked their heels together, locking their feet to the deck with magnetic fasteners. The turbo platform fell from the current level, plunging to the end of the spire. Once the platform reached the end of the tube, they exited to a room where Clint and Barry helped each other into their pressure suits.

Closing the clear helmet, Clint buzzed his comm link to Barry, "You copy?"

"Roger, 10-4."

Clint slammed his fist on a red button protruding from a side panel. The environment escaped from the airlock as the double doors slid open.

"Okay, my Lad, five meters and we can capture the cable."

"Right," Barry answered.

The two space walkers clomped their magnetic boots to the deck, moving one foot at a time, toward the large hole at the end of the spire.

"It's a lot worse than you were tellin' me, son."

They continued walking through the twisted metal beams until they were at the edge of space. Clint looked up and pointed, "There's the frigate."

"...and the cable is another meter from our reach!"

Two crewmen clomped from outside the station to where Clint and Barry stood. Clint pointed at the two, "What's so hard about connecting this cable?"

"Sorry, Sir," Carl Rodriguez answered, "Rod and I are having a problem reaching it."

Rod Stubbing grabbed a loose piece of shrapnel and cut his glove, "I'm venting!"

Barry was closest to Rod. He turned him, reaching for his air gauge, "You've been out here too long already, get to the airlock, you're down below red-line; five percent and dropping."

"I'll never make that in time!" Rod panicked.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Clint protested, "Don't have time for this, now disengage your boots!"

"But, Sir..."

"Do it!"

Rod turned off his magnetic boots. Clint grabbed him as he floated off the station. Aiming for the airlock, Clint shoved the man through space, "Don't miss, now!"

Clint's ears were rewarded with screams as he flung him toward the airlock. Rod reached out and stopped himself on the opening. He flailed his arms and let go for a moment before maneuvering inside. Gasping for air, he reached for the emergency airlock button and closed the double doors. The air filled the small airlock and the inner doors slid open as Rod removed his helmet.

"You good, Rod?"

"Y-yeah, Clint... thanks..."

"Okay you boys, listen up!" Clint released his boots and flung himself off the deck, "I'm jumping for it," Clint floated the short distance grabbing for the large eyelet, "When I get on, I'll fire my tether hook back to you. Tie it off on anything solid."

"I don't know if our tether lines will go that far, Sir," Barry protested.

"Well, I guess we're about to find out," Clint took ahold of the cable, his velocity spun him around, and the momentum nearly too much to hold with. He wrapped himself around the cable, reached for his tether firing lever and shot it back to the station.

Carl caught the tether and tied it off on one beam, "I got ya!"

"Good! Now I will reel myself in. When I'm close enough, anchor the damn thing, and let's get out of here!"

The tether retracted, bringing Clint closer to the station. Carl grabbed the eyelet while Barry secured it to the station's anchor.

"We're secured, Sir!"

Clint activated his boots once more. The momentum sent him crashing feet-first to the metal station with a clunk. He checked their work and then looked over to Barry, "You got a live link to the Frigate?"

"Yes, Sir, I'll patch you over," Barry pressed two commands on his arm.

"This is Director Bartholomew! You can tow now!" Clint turned to his crew, "You two get inside first... Rod, open the doors to the airlock!"

The frigate ignited their thrusters, yanking the slack on the cable. The resulting momentum pulled the station, jerking the crew outside the airlock, catching Carl off guard.

He let out a scream as his magnetic boots failed, launching him in the path of the frigates thrusters.

"Carl!" Barry shouted, reaching a useless hand for him.

His screams silenced only after being vaporized before their eyes.

Clint turned Barry around, "Don't look, son... come on... Rod! Get these damn doors open before we're fried too!"

The airlock doors slid open. The two clomped inside and watched the doors seal them from the extremes of space.

Rod equalized the pressure and opened the inner airlock doors. Barry removed his helmet. Falling to his knees, he coughed and gagged, vomiting on the deck.

Clint looked down at the young man, "Sorry about Carl."

Barry nodded his understanding. Gasping for air, he held his remaining stomach contents, "Carl was a good man... he knew this job was dangerous..."

"Now that was intense!" Clint shouted.

"Carl..."

"We'll have more time to grieve later, son, right now, we need to work on getting our primaries back online... can you do that, son?" Clint patted Barry on his shoulder.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, and you will clean that up later."

Barry stood, unzipping his pressure suit.

Clint reached for the comm link on the airlock wall, "Status report? Are we making any headway on towing?"

"Negative, Sir, the gravity is pretty strong. For now, we're holding position."

"Get me that frigate again! Ask them how long they can keep this up?"

"One moment, Sir."

Barry stood by Clint, listening to the report, "I'll check with the reactor teams."

The voice echoed over the intercom, "Sir, the Captain of the frigate says twenty minutes before the cable will structurally fail."

"Understood!" Clint turned to Barry, "Well, what's the reactor status?"

"The leak's sealed, Sir, we're not venting any more coolant."

"Is there enough pressure in the system to fire off the reactor?"

"There will be shortly, Sir."

"You've got less than twenty minutes to get the station's reactor up!"

Barry nodded, then turned to his console, "I'm going to fire it up anyway, Sir!"

"That's the spirit, my boy!" Clint gave Barry a slap on the arm.

"Injecting the rods... core pressure is building... temperature is rising..."

"What's the core temp now?" Clint asked.

"It's reaching two-thousand degrees... power is being restored, the station is moving, Sir!"

"Keep it going..."

"Twenty-five hundred... red line at three-thousand."

"Captain of the frigate! Pour on the coals!"

"Increasing engine output on the cable, but we're reaching critical stresses!"

"Keep us coming, now! Barry; report!"

"Twenty-eight hundred, Sir... we're pulling out of Jupiter's gravity, Sir! We're gonna make it, Sir!"

"Did you ever doubt it?" Clint smiled at the young man.

"No, Sir, guess not... not really," Barry glanced at his wall console and returned a smile to Clint, "The coolant pressure is rising! The system is compensating... temperature is falling inside the core, we've got full power to the station again, Sir!"

"Good work, everyone! Barry; position report?"

"We've been brought back up to three-hundred and fifty thousand kilometers. The station is out of danger."

"Frigate, you can cut loose your cable, we're home free... thanks for the help."

"This is Captain Harmon, request to dock. We can assist you with your repairs."

"Permission granted, Captain, thanks again."

"We'll reestablish station orbit in thirty minutes, Sir," Barry reported.

Clint gave the young man another pat on the shoulder, "Coordinate our repairs with the frigate crew," Clint turned toward the turbo-deck, "I'm heading to my office for a good stiff drink!"

"I'm on it, Sir!"

Four

FTL Year:

2516/03/12 - 16:35:46

The Aevus

"Alright," Bo smiled, "That's the last of the holes in her."

"Good work, everyone," Jonas praised.

"Yeah, well, it's a bad situation anyway you look at it," Tipper nodded, "Four hull breaches and less than half of our O2."

"Not to mention two damaged cryo-tubes," Bo added.

"Come on, Skipper," Bo said, as he packed away his tools. "We should consider aborting our mission before we're too far out."

"Bo's right, Skipper," Sterling interjected, "We're not too far out that we can't swing around..."

"No!" Taylor protested, "Doing a reverse burn would be fatal at this point, we'd never gain enough momentum without another slingshot to breach light speed. We'd all die out here."

"We'll die if we continue this mission!" Simon added.

"Now everyone just take a deep breath and relax," Jonas ordered, "Let's consider our options."

"I'm with the Skipper," Taylor said, nodding vigorously, "Turning back is no longer an option; not at these speeds."

"What is our latest speed check, Sterling?"

"We've stabilized at seven times faster than light."

"Taylor's right," Jonas said, "We're already experiencing our time dilation factor."

"Sterling; run fuel burn analysis if we turned around. I also want to know what the time dilation factor is. How much time passes for Earth versus on this ship."

"I'm already doing my calculations, Skipper."

"Tipper; at our current speed, what's our ETA to target?"

"Based on the fact no one's ever been this fast before, and giving consideration that our computers are smart enough to extrapolate from its programming, I estimate we're nineteen months out."

"She's correct, Skipper," Sterling said shaking his head, "Sorry, Bo, but Taylor's right. We don't have enough power to get us back to light speed, and our time dilation effect is fifteen point six."

"We left three hours ago," Jonas said, "That means that a little over two days for our friends back on Jupiter Station."

"Each day we travel, over fifteen days pass on Earth. Time has slowed for us."

"Doctor, what are the chances we'd survive doubling up on the cryo-tubes?"

Pippen looked up from her clear data pad and smiled at Jonas, "That's a brilliant idea, Skipper!"

"Thanks, Pip... oh wow."

"What is it, Jonas?" Tipper asked.

"I just realized, I'll be spending the next nineteen months with Tip and Pip. I'll never keep it straight."

Pippen giggled. Tipper sneered at Jonas and Bo broke out in laughter.

"What's so funny, Mister?" Jonas quipped.

Bo shook his head as he laughed, keeping a beat as he sang, "We've got a Skip, talkin' to the Tippen', being laughed buy the Pippen', while my crew looks on callin' me the fro'en mowen. Then you got the Sterling and the Stone that are given' me the loathen' but will light the fire, inspirin' my smoken'," Bo held his stogie with one hand as he finished his rap rendition.

"Yeah, that's great, Bo," Jonas said with a roll of his eyes, "Please don't give up your day job, though, I need you as ship's mechanic. 'Sides, I can't even begin to imagine a singin' mechanic for the next year and a half."

Bo returned his stogie to his teeth, and held his hands up to his heart, "I'm actually feelin' the hurt over here, Skip."

"Oh please," Jonas began.

"Deeply hurt..."

"Okay, okay, sorry about that Bo."

"Gotcha again," Bo's face turning into a beaming smile.

"What about it Doc? Can we survive if we double up?"

Pippen removed a scanner from a side pouch. Pressing a few commands, she passed it up and back down each of the crew, "This'll confirm each of our compatibilities."

"Compatibilities?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," Pip explained, continuing to run her scans. "Each cryo-tube is adjusted to one individual. We would need to pair up with similar bio-types."

"So, how many of us are compatible?" Tipper asked.

"In all actuality, there are five types that are compatible."

"So, what? We draw straws to see who gets a roomie?"

"No, Skipper, it's a bit more complex than that."

"Please don't let it be me," Tipper sighed under her breath.

"Sorry, Tip," Pippen said, looking up from her scan, "you and the Skipper are a match."

Jonas raised his eyebrows, "I've been tryin' ta' tell ya that for years."

"Very funny, Jonas," Tipper sneered, "Okay, Doc, who else?"

"Bo, you're compatible with two others."

"Now wait a sec, It's gonna be a tight squeeze just for me..."

"Relax, big guy," Pippen said, cutting him off, "We need you to solo and yes, you're a little on the large side to bunk with anyone."

"Thank you, Doc."

"Besides," Jonas interjected, "We need to have you get up every ten weeks to check the ship. Make repairs, check settings, that sort of thing."

"Yeah, makes me feel really welcome, Skipper. So how many times can we be put in this tank having no issues?"

"The ones that will bunk together, I don't recommend over three."

"What about solo's?" Bo asked.

"The issue isn't how many times. It's more like the power strain on the cryo-tubes. I can make adjustments to the systems. I can even take some of the parts from the two damaged tubes to convert them for two occupants."

"Then what's the problem, Doc?" Jonas asked.

"When the computer is monitoring two, as opposed to one, there could be some unwanted side effects."

"You talkin' about RAS?" Bo asked.

"Yes, rapid aging syndrome is a real concern here."

"I've heard all sorts of nasty chatter about that," Taylor added.

"Most of the stories you heard online are quite exaggerated, Mister Jorgensen."

"It is true though, right, Doc?" Tipper asked, "RAS is a real side effect?"

"Yes, but in most of the reported cases, it's not fatal."

"So you age, but that doesn't kill ya?" Jonas said with a headshake. "Gives me a real vote of confidence."

"Your appearance ages, most of your internal organs are preserved with the cryo-sleep drugs."

"So we look a little older," Bo shrugged, "I can live with living."

"And we're still unable to reverse course," Sterling added.

"Okay then," Jonas smiled, "Who's the other lucky roommates?"

"Taylor and Sterling are the only other matches."

"A match made in heaven," Bo smiled at the two.

"Hey, watch it," Simon said, giving Bo a playful shove.

"How much time you need to re-configure the tubes, Doc?" Jonas asked, snickering at the antics of the others.

"Oh, I don' know, Skipper," Pippen added to the snickering, "a few hours."

Tipper burst out laughing and hung on Jonas' arm.

"Come on, Tip," Jonas said, attempting to stop his laughter, "This is serious."

Sterling leaned against the ship's bulkhead and held his head, "I'm getting a headache over all this," and then snickered.

Simon collapsed to the floor and Taylor fell against Bo. Pippen staggered over to a console and studied the readings, laughing at her explanation, "We're suffering from hypoxia; oxygen deprivation."

Tipper snickered, trying to gain control, "Sounds pretty bad, Doc-tor..."

"Emergency breathers," Pippen ordered, shaking her head, attempting to gain her senses.

Taylor turned and reached inside of a cabinet, pulling out several wrapped bags. Three fell to the floor, but he tore one open and removed the contents. Pulling a ring on the end of a tube, he inserted it inside his mouth, sealed his lips, and took in three large breaths. Pippen activated one and then assisted the others.

Regaining her senses, Pippen gave directions, "We need to get as many in cryo so these scrubbers can replenish our air."

Jonas breathed through the portable ventilator, "Mr. Richardson, Mr. Stone, you two get prepped for cryo."

Bo protested, "It's okay, Bo," Pippen said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I got the system fixes. Go on now; I'll set your tube for ten weeks."

Bo nodded his head in agreement, "Okay, okay, when I wake up, and need help, who do you want me to bring out?"

"Stone's the only single tube other than Pip," Jonas said.

"Okay," Bo said, turning to Simon, "Stone, you're it."

"If there's an emergency, wake Tipper and I."

"You got it, Skipper," Bo offered his hand and shook before walking to the cryo-bay. Simon nodded and followed Bo down the corridor.

"I'll make the mods on the tubes," Pippen said, following the pair.

"Taylor, Sterling; offer any support to Pip. Tipper, you're with me. I want to go over the ship settings before we go down."

"Right," Tipper nodded, "If we separate, we'll use our air more efficiently and not strain these scrubbers."

* * *

Jonas tapped his headset, "Pip, you getting all set down there?"

Pippen tapped her wireless, "Yeah, Jonas. Almost ready to start the first cryo sequence."

Bo looked down at the small clear tube, "Don't look so comfortable, Ms. Doc."

"You won't even know," Pippen smiled. "Now you two strip down to your skivvies and climb in. Bo, you're in four. Simon, you're in five."

"All the way to our skivvies? Won't we be a little cold?"

"Not to worry, guys," Pippen assured. "Once the cryo-sleep drugs are running through your blood, you'll not awaken until the recovery cycle runs."

"That a fact," Bo said, taking his clothes off.

"There's only a one in twenty chance you'll have nightmares..."

"Nightmares? No one ever said there'd be nightmares? What kind of nightmares we talkin' about, anyway?"

"Relax," Pippen chuckled, "I'm kidding."

Bo returned a feigned smile and then sank down into the padded tube.

"Here," Pippen said, placing a metal sleeve on Bo's arm. "Simon, if you can take that sleeve and run it up your left arm, please, thank you."

"Blood pressure cuff?"

"Nope... well, it does that too."

"Then what?"

Pippen pressed three commands on the tube's console causing the sleeve to squeeze Bo's arm.

"Ouch! What the hell was that?" Bo protested, lifting to his elbows.

Pippen placed her hand on his forehead and forced him back down, "Relax, Bo, it's the pick line for the meds. Now lay down, close your eyes... that's better, you'll be awake in no time."

Bo relaxed after the pain from the machine's invasion of his veins and closed his eyes.

Pippen pressed two more commands sliding the tube's clear top closed, "Damn, I forgot to warn him."

Simon rose to his elbows, "Warning about what, Doc?"

"Only minor side effects of waking up, nothing too much to worry about," Pippen offered, coming to Simon's side.

"What kind of side effects?"

"Nausea, vomiting, body aches..."

"Nothing sounds too awful," Simon laid down and mentally readied himself.

Pip checked the tube and made the final adjustments to the meds and pressed the lid closing sequence, "... and stroke."

Simon's eyes shot open and bumped his head on the closing lid, "Stroke!?"

"Just kidding! Jeez, does no one have a sense of humor around here?"

The door sealed Simon in, he laid down in protest and muffled his complaint from within the chamber, "Doc, you need to work on your bedside manner."

Pip smiled and then tapped her wireless, "We're almost ready down here for you two. I'm finishing up a few changes to the cryo-matrix on Taylor and Sterling's tube."

"Excellent, Doctor," Jonas answered. "We're all set up here. Be right down."

* * *

"Doctor Morgan's medical log," Pippen recited, "It's hour number six since we left Jupiter Station. It's hard to believe that nearly four days have passed for Earth.

"Everyone is safely secured by cryogenics. I'm the last to go under. It's hard to see them all sleeping so soundly. I have to admit, they're much braver than I, as I have severe reservations on these cryo-sleep chambers.

"This technology is only a few years old. I know, I know, I'm an impossible patient. But some of these side effects are real. Still, I will have to subject myself to the confines of this cocoon for possibly nineteen months... that is unless there's a medical emergency. I can only hope everything will go smoothly. Nothing bad will happen, except a little vomiting when we awaken. I hate to vomit. It's bad for my complexion.

"Listen to me. I'm worried about a few blown capillaries in my face and eyes when RAS is still a very real possibility.

"Moving on to more important topics; I'm happy to report I've increased the O2 by five percent since putting everyone to sleep. It's my hope that the cabin pressures will increase two percent every week. With Bo waking every 10 weeks to perform system checks, we should be back to full pressure in six months, barring any scrubber or other environmental break down.

"I've left instructions for Bo to clean all the scrubbers as part of his system checks. That shouldn't take over three hours to perform, and won't affect our O2 restoration.

Pip paused as she prepared her cryo-tube, "Okay computer, end recording. It's time."

"Recording stopped," the computer replied.

Pippen disrobed and climbed into her chamber, slid the metal cuff on her arm and pressed the final commands to engage her tube.

Five

Ninety-Six Hours Later

Earth Year:

2516/03/12 - 6:36:14

Jupiter Station

"The Secretary's shuttle is landing at bay 4B in five minutes, Sir."

Director Clint Bartholomew sat behind his composite desk, his computer halo-display hovering inches from its surface, "He sure didn't waste any time gettin' here."

"It's only a forty-nine minute flight these days," Barry said.

"And that's got me wonderin' why TJ's so eager to meet with me? He knows this station is in disarray. Not likely going to be fully operational for another three weeks."

Clint drove his computer halo-screen like a Ferrari, with speed and precision. His fingers flying in the air, moving from one report to another.

"It's only been four days since the attack, Sir."

"Still, I'm sensing there's another reason for this visit."

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"I don't know, but I think we're about to find out," Clint canceled the report with a swipe of his hand as the Secretary entered his office.

"TJ! Good ta' see ya," Clint stood and offered a hand.

TJ extended a wrinkled and withered hand, barely squeezing Clint's hand in return.

The man smiled, sat in the chair opposite from Clint, and removed his felt fedora. Placing his hat on the desk, he folded his hands in front, "Would you be so kind as to provide us some... privacy, Barry?"

"Oh, sure. Yes, Sir, Mister Secretary," Barry stood and let himself out of the office.

"What's this all about, TJ? Why the shroud of mystery?"

The aging man looked deep into Clint's eyes and asked, "Is the door sealed? I mean it's secure, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes, of course it is, Mister Secretary."

The man looked to one side and then the other before leaning forward. He whispered, barely audible enough for Clint to hear, "I've waited a very long time for this moment."

Clint smiled, sat back and chuckled nervously, "You're really confusing me, TJ," then he leaned forward and studied the man's face, "We've never met, or have we?"

TJ motioned with his hand to Clint and back to himself, "No, you and I have never met..."

Clint stroked his chin, "You seem awfully familiar. I never forget a face."

"Whether we've met four days ago, thirty years ago, or never, has no bearing on what I need to tell you, Mister Director."

"Wait, a minute..." Clint raised his eyebrows, "You said four days ago? That's when the attack hit! You were saying some pretty odd things over the wireless right after the attack. Something about you knew we'd be alright. Yeah, that was it. You weren't one bit concerned for our wellbeing... it's like you already knew... and if you knew why didn't you warn us?"

"There is much you must learn. But before you will understand, you must open your mind to new things, Clint."

"More riddles..."

"Not by design, I assure you."

"Taylor?"

The Secretary sat, emotionless at Clint's words.

"You are Taylor Jorgensen, aren't you?"

"The next thing you are wondering is how could this be possible?"

"Then you don't deny it, do you?" Clint asked with one eyebrow still raised, his head cocked to one side.

"If you know this to be true, then there is no need to explain further."

"Oh, Mister Secretary, I'm all ears."

"There's been a temporal rift... an accident if you will. I traveled though this temporal time rift. The timelines split apart; one fighting to overcome the other."

"I see," Clint said, slowly nodding his head.

"I know this will be hard for you to understand, but you must listen to me; there is not much time."

"Okay, TJ, I'm listening, go right on ahead."

The old man held a shaking hand in the air, "I-I don't even know where to begin."

"How about the beginning?"

"Seems like a reasonable starting place to you, but to me, well, the starting place is so many places."

"More riddles," Clint waved his hand over the corner of his desk, displaying the clock, "Wow, look at the time, will ya?"

Clint scooted away from the desk and stood, "I really must be going. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Secretary..."

Clint held his hand out in an offer to shake, which TJ refused, "Sit down, Mister Director!"

Clint paused with hand in the air for an uncomfortable moment before returning to his seat.

"Now then, Mister Director, as I said, I have little time..."

The desk phone buzzed, Clint held his hand up pausing the old man, "Hold on, Mister Secretary. Yes? What is it?"

"Sir," Barry's voice echoed over the comm link.

"He's about to tell you of an unknown shuttle attempting to land on the station," the old man said.

"Sorry, Barry, what is it?"

"There's an unauthorized shuttle. It's heading to landing bay 4B, Sir."

Clint studied the old man, and then asked Barry, "Have you made contact? How many life signs?"

"Sorry, Sir, they've not returned our hails. We scan one life sign. Their ETA is twenty minutes."

Clint continued to glare at the old man and asked, "If you know anything about this, now would be a good time to tell me!"

The old man sat back in his chair, "I've been trying to tell you, but you refuse to listen."

"Allow the shuttle clearance..."

"That would be a mistake..."

"... and send a full security detail. I'm on my way."

"Yes, Sir, full security detail is standing by."

"You see, I've been waiting thirty years for this moment. The occupant in the shuttle is coming here to try to kill me."

"How do you know these things?"

"He will fail."

"Who is on that ship?"

"It is me, but he won't reach me in time. He never does."

"I'm tiring of these riddles! How can you be here, and on the shuttle at the same time!?"

"Remember to keep an open mind, Mister Director."

Clint grew more impatient with each passing moment, "Now, if you will accompany me to the docking bay, we'll get this all straightened out."

But the old man continued to sit in the chair, "You see, this isn't the first time that other me has tried."

"Come again?"

"As I said, there has been a temporal rift. This is an alternate reality than where I originally come from."

"And you expect me to believe you? You waltz into my office under some kind of guise of needing an inspection, and then you tell me you're from an alternate reality? Come on, Mister Secretary."

"Yes, I understand how difficult this is for you."

"Oh, you don't even know the half of it."

"Oh, I am afraid that I do."

Clint returned to his chair and waved instructions to the comm link, "Barry, when they dock, detain them. Looks like I am being delayed."

"Yes, Sir."

"It will not matter."

Clint shook his head, "Why won't it?"

"I can already begin to feel the change approaching."

"Change?"

"Yes, it appears that time has its own way of self-correcting paradoxes."

"Can't you just come out with it already?"

"I can tell you everything, or nothing. Either way, you will remember none of it."

"Then why come here at all? Why bother if what you're telling me doesn't matter, or remember, or whatever... god, this is confusing! I can't even believe that I'm actually still sitting here listening to you."

"I continue trying, Mister Director, hoping eventually the temporal rift will settle enough, if only a small part of my being here is remembered."

"You say you've been waiting a long time? I'm guessing thirty years?"

"I arrived in this timeline thirty years ago. With my knowledge of the future, I aligned myself in this position. I gained riches, knowing the financial markets; at least mostly."

"If this is an alternate timeline, then I imagine that not everything happened the same here?"

"You are quiet right, Mister Director. Regardless of my knowledge of future events, there are subtle differences, nor is my memory of certain events completely accurate."

"How did this all happen, Taylor?"

The old man cringed, doubling over in sudden pain. He cried out, "It's beginning!"

"What? What's happening, Taylor?"

"The temporal rift is making adjustments to prevent a time paradox."

Clint stood and came to the old man's side, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm afraid there is no more time."

The desk lit up from Barry's comm signal, "The shuttle has landed, Sir. What are your orders, Sir?"

Clint waved his hand at the halo-beam emanating from his desk, "Keep the occupant detained! Do not let him off his ship!"

"Yes, Sir! We'll ensure they do!"

"I do not think," the old man struggled to say, "they will likely keep him confined."

The man winced with pain once again, falling from the chair to his knees.

Clint waved his hand at his comm link, "Medical emergency, Director's office!"

"It... won't... be necessary... none of... this... will be here... soon."

Clint kneeled and held the man, "There must be something I can do."

"Sir," the comm link lit up with Barry's voice, "I don't know how, but the occupant has exited. We weren't able to stop him, Sir."

"Using deadly force is authorized; you must stop him!"

"I told you... it... was a... mistake... letting me land..."

"Sir," Barry reported, "Our weapons have no effect!"

"Why is that, Taylor? Tell me what to do?"

"I... I... the pain... ahhh... The pain... the closer I get... to myself... the... more intense," the old man panted.

The director's door slid open. A man stood in the entrance, phase pistol in hand, pointing at the old man on the floor. His eyes wild with terror and anger, "I've finally caught you!"

The old man being cradled by Clint, turned and fixed his eyes on himself, "No, I'm afraid you have not."

Taylor, in a fit of rage, took another step closer. His finger squeezed the trigger on his weapon, and the room lit up with a brilliant flash and then faded.

The room changed. Both Taylor's vanished. Barry sat at his desk outside of the Director's office. Clint sat behind his desk, the halo-images displaying for his review.

Clint noticed his halo-image shimmering. He looked at his desk and saw a felt fedora partially blocking the halo-projection. Reaching through the image, he grabbed the lip of the hat and held it up, "Where the devil did this come from?"

Barry called from outside the office, "Sir, the PAC Secretary is calling."

"Patch him through... Terry Jensen? Good to hear your voice, Sir... yeah, we're making repairs. Still pretty hectic after the attack, Sir... if you really want a tour, I suggest giving us a few weeks... yeah, that's good, Terry... see you in a few weeks, then? Excellent! Nice talkin' Mister Secretary."

Barry poked his head inside the office, "Everything alright with TJ, Sir?"

"Yeah, Barry, he's fine, fine. Coming in three weeks. Let's ensure we're pretty far into the station repair by then."

Barry noticed the hat Clint was fondling, "Hey, nice hat, Sir. Where'd ya get it?"

"I don't know. I just noticed it sitting on the edge of my desk."

"Huh... well, I gotta get back to it, Sir."

Six

Nineteen

Months Later

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 14:00:00

The Aevus

A hissing sounded as air escaped from Jonas and Tipper's cryo-tube. The top slid down exposing the sleeping pair. Bo sat on a stool in front of their cryo-tube, his hands resting on his knees waiting.

Tipper lay next to Jonas, her arm around his bare chest and head resting on his shoulder as Jonas fluttered his eyes. He struggled to open them to the dim lights of the cryogenic bay. Their breathing returned to normal, and heart rates stabilized before the metal cuffs expanded, releasing its hold on their arms.

Jonas turned his head seeing Tipper and smiled, "Well, nice way to wake up after a long hibernation," he groggily said.

"Wait for it," Bo smiled, "It's gonna hit ya like a ton of bricks, any time now."

"You waited to see me wake up? You're a sick pup, my man." Jonas lay in Tipper's arms for an extended time before attempting to raise upright.

Bo stroked his chin, "I don't understand. Why aren't you getting sick?"

Pip stepped over to Bo and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, "Not everyone experiences cryo-sickness."

"Well, that's just no fair," Bo protested, clenching a short cigar between his teeth. "I even put out buckets for 'em. Man, it's just ain't' no fair at all!"

"I take it you were," Simon said, drying his body with a towel, "Try the shower trick, it worked for me."

"Yeah," Bo said, glancing at Simon, "Good for you."

Tipper opened her eyes and let out a gasp, "Oh god! Jonas, you pig!"

"What?" Jonas asked in defense, now sitting upright inside the tube.

"You took advantage of me! Didn't you?"

"No, sweetie, I just woke up with you climbing all over my bones, I was asleep the whole time, I assure you," Jonas said with a wink.

Tipper slapped his bare arm, "I knew it! You just keep your distance, mister!"

Jonas climbed from the tube. Pip handed him a towel, and then ran her scanner up and back down his body, "You're fine, Skipper, and for your information, Tip, his body has no testosterone on board. The sleep drugs took care of that."

"Huh, well," Tipper said, climbing from the tube, "I could have sworn he took advantage!"

Pip ran her scanner up and down Tipper, "Well, you're normal too. However, your estrogens and progesterone levels are off the charts."

"I beg your pardon?" Tipper frowned, "Really Doc?"

"I can't explain it. That's not supposed to happen. It must be a bad setting or something," Pip returned a wink to Jonas. "I'd say you should take a cold shower, Tipper."

"Oh for god sakes, Doc," Tipper was interrupted by gut wrenching pain, "Ohhh, boy!"

"Here it comes," Bo smiled with satisfaction.

"I think I'm gonna puke!"

"Aim for the..."

Tipper doubled over with pain toward Bo and spewed projectile vomit.

"...bucket..."

Looking down at his feet, the liquid splashed on the deck, covering his boots with vile colored liquid. Tipper's face contorted, turned red as her eyes bulged and red lines drew across her cheeks. She wretched three more times before taking the towel from Pip to wipe her face.

Bo only stared at the mess he stood in and shook his head, "I gave you a bucket and everything..."

"I'm so sorry," Tipper apologized, "I think I'll hit the showers now..."

"Not even going to help me clean this up?"

"I don't do vomit well, thanks for getting it for me, Bo, you're a real prince," Tipper said with bloodshot eyes.

Jonas grimaced at Tipper, "Now that's attractive."

"Gee, um, thanks for the mess," Bo said with a roll of his eyes.

"I'll clean it, Bo," Pip offered.

Bo pointed at the doctor, "See, now she's got class."

Pippen smiled in return, "Oh, it's alright, Bo. I'm a doctor, I'm used to seeing this all the time."

"Okay, so everyone's awake," Jonas asked, "What's our status?"

Pip knelt down with towels to clean up Tipper's mess when she stood back up. She looked over at cryo-tube number six, "Hey, how come Taylor and Sterling's cycle hasn't run yet?"

Bo continued looking at the mess at his feet when Pip left his side to attend to their tube, "Great... just great," Bo knelt down and cleaned up the mess by himself.

"Something's wrong."

"What is it, Doc?" Jonas asked.

"Oh damn!" Pip exclaimed.

"Nothing ever good comes from doctors cursing in a situation, now what's the issue?"

"Sorry, Skipper," Pip replied, fiddling with several commands on the tube's console. "There's an imbalance in the cryo-drugs. That caused the computer to prevent the tube from activating the wake cycle. I'm afraid if I wake them up before the cycle's ready, we might lose one of them."

"Well, then don't wake 'em?"

"It's not that simple, Jonas," Pip said, growing a concerned look. "If I don't wake them now, we could lose them both."

"What are the chances we'll lose one of them?"

"I might be able to save them if I bypass the computer sequence. Someone grab my medical kit over there," she pointed.

"Oh, sure," Bo complained, "Offer to help me clean this up and then walk away..."

Jonas grabbed the kit, giving Bo a glance, "Here, Doc. Do what you have to do."

She opened the kit and assembled her hypo spray and set it on the table next to the tube. Pressing three commands on the console caused the tube to slide open.

The two lay lifeless, still under the powerful cryogenic sleep coma. Pip examined them starting with shinning a light in their eyes. Opening the eyelids, she flicked the light back and forth, "Hmmm, their pupils are reacting normal. Their vital signs are stable. Why aren't they waking up?"

Jonas finished putting his jumpsuit on and stood next to Pip, "You ever see this before?"

Pip glanced to Jonas and then back to the tube, "No, no I haven't. The computer is refusing to run the wake-up cycle. I've even stopped the sleep drug from being injected and reversed their dialysis. The computer isn't delivering the wake-up dose."

Alarms rang across the ship. Bo jumped from his crouched position and ran to a console, "Proximity alert, Skipper."

Jonas looked over at Bo, "Go topside and check it out... and turn that damn noise off!"

"Yes, Sir, Skip," Bo smiled. Dropping his towel over the mess, he moved to the ladder and climbed to the flight deck.

"Pip, better do what you can to wake them. Looks like we're about to find out what that signal was that sent us here."

"Okay, Skipper," Pip said with concern. She grabbed her hypo-spray and held it to Sterling's neck and squeezed the trigger.

Sterling moved his arm and turned to his side, "Good," Pip nodded, "he's coming around."

"What about Taylor?" Tipper asked.

"Tip, you wanna play doctor, here?"

"No, sorry, Pip... just feelin' a little on edge."

"It's okay, I get it... oh no!"

"What's wrong, Doc?" Jonas asked.

"He's having a negative reaction to the wake-up drug... come on, help me get him to his feet..."

Jonas, Tipper, and the doctor screamed in terror with the sight of Sterling's skin drying and wrinkling.

"What's happening to him?" Jonas yelled.

"It's RAS, Skipper."

The crew watched as Sterling shriveled, his skin sunk down to his bones and his hair greyed, turned to white and fell out, and his jaw slacked and fell from its setting. Taylor laid still under the sleep drugs, unaware of the horror the rest of the crew watched.

The wireless blared Bo's voice, "Skipper, you better come see this!"

"How soon before our reverse burn, Bo? We've got a situation down here."

"Um, Skipper, you really need to come and see this... and now is a better time... we should buckle up and commence our reverse burn."

"We lost Sterling..."

"Sterling? What happened?"

"He had a bad reaction to the wake up drugs and died in about twenty seconds... right before our eyes."

"Oh man... well, this is pretty important stuff up here too, Sir. What about Taylor? This can't wait, Skip!"

Jonas looked over at a horrified doctor, "Can you wake Taylor up?"

"I... I don't have any idea," Pippen said with dismay.

"Come on, Doc. Make the call. We have to get this ship slowed or we'll miss our target."

Pip shook her head, reloaded her hypo-spray and held her breath as she placed the nozzle to Taylor's neck.

"We'll be up in a minute, Bo." Turning to the rest of the crew, "I'll stay with the doc. Everyone else; get into your suits and go top side... now!"

Simon and Tipper left the cyro-bay and headed to the flight deck. Taylor lay still in the tube, Sterling's remains continued to decay within the tube. Pip, holding the hypo-spray at his neck waited for the others to leave, "Okay, here goes."

She squeezed the trigger. A hiss sounded as the medicine entered Taylor. She set the injector inside the tube and looked at Jonas, "Come on, let's get him out of here. I adjusted the dose to slow the process. We must get him in his suit and buckle him in upstairs. He'll be a bit groggy for a while."

"He seems to be taking the meds," Jonas nodded.

"Yes, he's waking up... slowly, but I think he'll be alright."

The two pulled Taylor from the tube with his arms around their necks, Taylor fluttered his eyes as far open as he could, "What's... what's going on?"

"Come on, Taylor," Pip said, "Give a little help. Got to get you to the flight deck."

Taylor tried to stand, but fell limp under his own weight.

"He's still pretty far under," Pip said, "Bo, can you turn off the gravity plating down here? We will have to float him up."

"Got it, Doc."

Taylor groggily floated through the hatch to the flight deck and helped Jonas and Pippen the best he could with his flight suit. The pair strapped him down to his seat, aft of the forward control seat where Bo was sitting and put their suits on.

"What's our status, Bo?"

"I've programmed the reverse burn and we're ready to execute as soon as you two are secured."

"Okay, Bo, I'll take over the flight controls. Move back to your station."

"You got it, Skipper."

Bo floated out of the control seat and Jonas sat down and strapped in, "Everyone ready?"

Bo took his seat and strapped down, "Okay, now I'm ready."

"Pip and Taylor are ready, Skipper."

"Ready, Jonas," Tipper chimed in.

"Navigation is ready, Skip," Simon reported.

"Okay, helmets on... switching to auxiliary comm links."

"Check," Tipper reported.

"Commencing one eighty degree turn... and firing full thrusters!"

Jonas spun the ship around and ignited the thruster packs and plasma engines to full power. The resulting thrust pressed the crew into their seats as the powerful engines fired.

The Aevus shuddered and the hull stresses creaked and popped as the ship slowed momentum.

"Speed reducing," Jonas shouted through the comm link, "Moving back to sub-light speed in thirty seconds."

The crew bounced forward and then back into their seats as they crossed the light barrier back to normal speeds.

"Entering planetary orbit of Gliese 667 Cc... reverse slingshot in three... two... one... planetary gravitational pull returning to normal... powering engines to station keeping."

Simon studied his console, "Confirmed, Skipper. We're locked in high equatorial synchronous orbit at planet Cc."

"All systems are green on the board," Bo reported.

"Helmets off," Jonas ordered.

"Gravity plating is off-line with our main engines shutdown, Skip."

"Superb," Jonas nodded, "Activate gravity boots when you unharness." Turning to Bo, "Now, what's got you in a tizzy, Mister?"

"It's the signal we were sent to intercept, Skipper. I know where it came from."

"You care to fill the rest of us in?"

Bo removed his helmet and stowed it in his side compartment, "Oh, I'll share, Skipper, but you ain't gonna like it..."

"Come on, man, spill it..."

"It's coming from another ship in orbit, Skipper."

"Another ship? Who?"

"According to my calculations, Skipper," Simon reported, "We'll be coming up in visual range in less than two minutes."

"Okay," Jonas said, "I'll bite... tell us who?"

"It's the Aevus, Skipper."

"What the... you can't be serious?"

"Serious as a crutch, Skipper...look, there she is," Bo pointed with a finger.

"Bring us alongside, Simon."

"Adjusting course and speed to match, Skipper," Simon reported.

Jonas peered out the front glass of the flight deck in awe, "How is this possible?"

Seven

Fast Forward

Twenty-Five Years

Earth Year:

2541/03/12 - 16:03:52

Jupiter Station

"Well, Mister Director," Barry said, his hair now grey, he stood before the old Clint Bartholomew. "This is the anniversary, Sir."

The muscular looking eighty year-old sat behind his desk. Now, his only duties were in name only. He refused to retire until he knew the men he sent to Gliese twenty-five years ago made it. Until this moment, he stayed the course, "If they made it, they should be in orbit around Gliese."

The felt fedora that mysteriously appeared never left Clint's desk. It became ritual to fondle the rim of the hat in one full circle at the end of each day. Then he would return the hat to the place it first showed up. Today, he placed it on his head.

Taking the Director's badge from his lapel, he set them on the desk before Barry, got up from his desk and motioned to his chair, "The Director's job is yours, Barry."

"You really don't have to..."

Clint motioned with his hand again, "No, son, it's time I take a shuttle back to Earth. My days are numbered..."

"You really don't have to leave, Sir."

"What? And miss another World Series?"

"Yes, Sir," Barry nodded, and then smiled, "And looks like you'll be going in style."

Clint smiled, stroked the brim of his hat, cocking it slightly and extended his hand, "and I have seven months to find me tickets."

"You shouldn't have any trouble with that, Sir. They'll be honoring you."

"Well, I'd like to think that," Clint nodded once more. "Good luck, Mister Director."

Barry shook the man's hand twice, held it for a second and shook once more before letting go, "Safe journey's Mister... ah, Clint."

Clint smiled, "Whoever said we're on a first name basis, son?"

"Oh, uh, sorry, Sir, uh, Mister Bartholomew."

Clint slowly chuckled, pointing with one finger, "They didn't call me blowhard for nothin'. See ya later, son."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew, son. It's an honor to bestow such a legacy."

"See ya around, Sir," Barry smiled in return.

"Jeez, boy, it ain't like I'm gonna be that far away. It's only a twenty-minute trip these days."

"Right, Sir. See you next time you're out here."

"Damn straight, son," Clint clicked his teeth and exited the office.

Clint rode the turbo-walk to the tram center and climbed in a two seat rail car. Just before the hatch swung down, a gentleman interrupted him, "Hold the car... mind if I ride with you?"

Clint looked up at the man, attempting to see who invaded his trip to the shuttle launch bay, "Going to 4B, cause that's where I'm headin'."

"Yeah, something like that."

"Well, get in and sit already, I don't got all day; catching the next flight to Earth."

The man nodded and sat in the car, allowing the hatch to close. The rail car zipped off around the station spoke to the outer ring where the launch bay waited.

"Nice hat," the man said, plucking it off his head.

"Hey!" Clint grabbed at his prize possession, but the man held it from his reach.

"Made of fine felt material," the man said, examining the hat meticulously.

"You make it a habit of pissing off your elders, son?"

"I'm not your son, and no; not typically."

"Then how's 'bout handin' me back my property?"

The young man placed it on his own head, tipped the hat forward over his brow and looked over to Clint, "Whattya think, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Do I know you?" Clint asked, studying the young man's face, "I mean; have we ever met?"

"Well, sort of, and not really."

"You look familiar..."

"Think... do you remember seeing us off twenty-five years ago?"

"Tay...Taylor Jorgensen?"

The young man doubled over with pain, "Ohhh, it's starting again... you must tell me if you remember me?"

"You were on the Aevus... I sent you off twenty-five years ago... but how... you couldn't have traveled there and back... the time dilation... you haven't aged at all!"

"This hat..." the man said removing it from his head, "Do you remember how you got this?"

"No... no, it appeared a few days after I sent the Aevus off."

Taylor doubled over in pain once more, "Did you send us off without incident or was there an attack of the station?"

"Attack? I don't know what you're talking about? The Aevus was sent out without incident; it was text book launch... today's the twenty-fifth anniversary of your departure; what would be your arrival."

The tram car slowed as it approached the launch bay, "I don't have a lot of time to explain."

"What's going on? How did you get back here?"

"There's been an accident... we traveled back to the launch day to attack the station."

"What? I don't know what you're talking about! What attack?"

"I'm getting closer... you must listen," Taylor said, grabbing Clint's arm, "That attack happened in a different timeline. That never happened to this Clint. Everything changed back."

"Who attacked the station?"

"It was Jonas... we traveled back to prevent our launch. It was us in those marauders..."

"Marauders? We have had no trouble with the Mars Consortium for fifty years."

"You will... or you have... I can't keep it straight... it's too confusing."

"How many times have you visited me?"

"This is the first time in this timeline... many times before... you can't remember... it's like... it never happened... ahhhh... it's getting stronger."

"What can I do?"

The man cringed once more, "It's going to happen again... I can't stop it... I can only hope that I'll land... in the... right... spot... next time... I need this hat... if you will permit me..." Taylor looked up into Clint's eyes, "I must try again... you won't remember... but if I can... get you to... look in the rim next time... a note... you must remember me... don't forget... again..."

Clint reached out to comfort the man in pain, but no one was there. He looked around the car only to find himself alone, "What the devil?"

The car hatch lifted, exposing Clint to the launch bay. The pilot of his flight to Earth greeted him with extended hand, "Sir? You okay, Sir? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Clint looked at the man, "Yeah, something like that."

"Come on, Mister Director, your shuttle awaits."

"Former Director," Clint reminded, taking the man's hand.

"Yes, Sir. We'll be departing for Earth in ten minutes."

Rewind

Twenty-Five Years

Earth Year:

2516/03/16 - 16:51:25

Jupiter Station

The director's door slid open. A man stood in the entrance, phase pistol in hand, as Clint cradled the old man on the floor. His eyes wild with terror and anger, "I've finally caught you!"

The old man turned and fixed on his younger self, "No, I'm afraid you have not."

Taylor, in a fit of rage, took another step closer. Looked into Clint's eyes and said, "Look in the rim... the hat... look under the rim..."

The room lit up with a brilliant flash and then faded.

The room changed. Both Taylor's vanished. Barry sat at his desk outside of the Director's office. Clint sat behind his desk, the halo-images displaying for his review.

Clint noticed his halo-image shimmering. He looked at his desk and saw a felt fedora partially blocking the halo-projection. Reaching through the image, he grabbed the lip of the hat and held it up, "Where the devil did this come from?"

Barry called from outside the office, "Sir, the Secretary is calling."

"Patch him through... Terry Jensen? Good to hear your voice, Sir... yeah, the Aevus got off without a hitch... Text book launch really... We're still going over the data... yes... they should arrive in twenty-five years... that would be great, Mister Secretary, if you really want a tour, I think the next flight from Earth would be fine... yeah, that's good, Terry... see you tomorrow then? Excellent! Nice talkin' Mister Secretary."

Barry poked his head inside the office, "Everything alright with TJ, Sir?"

"Yeah, Barry, he's fine, fine. He's coming tomorrow to check up on us."

Barry noticed the hat Clint was fondling, "Hey, nice hat, Sir. Where'd ya get it?"

"I don't know. I just noticed it sitting on the edge of my desk."

"Huh... well, I gotta get back to it, Sir."

"Yeah, yeah... great, Barry," Clint quietly answered. He felt all around the brim of the hat and then tipped it upside down.

Lifting the hat liner away from the rim revealed a folded piece of paper, "What's this?" he asked himself.

Taking the paper, he unfolded a hand written note. "If you are reading this, that means I'm getting closer to reversing the accident..."

Barry poked his head though he office, Clint crumpled the paper, hiding it from view, "Yes, Barry, what is it?"

"We're ready for you on the promenade, Sir."

"Oh, right; the surprise party."

"Wait, you know about it?"

"Yes, of course I do, Barry. Don't worry though, I'll look surprised."

Clint tucked the crumpled note into his pocket and walked out of his office.

"You okay, Sir, you look distracted."

"I'm fine, just fine, Barry."

Barry ushered Clint to the courtyard, and center stage on the main promenade. His closest staff gathered, wearing party hats and blowing noise makers. They sang three choruses of 'He's a jolly good fellow' before whisking him to the sheet cake formed in the shape of the Aevus.

He looked down at the white frosting with each of the crew's names written on the top, pausing at Taylor's.

Barry took Clint by the arm, "You sure you're okay, Sir?"

"Yeah, yeah... I'm fine... I just... this name, Taylor... something... oh never mind, it's not important."

"Come on!" Rod Stubbing shouted, "Cut that cake already!"

Carl Rodriguez handed him a knife, and he smiled, "You sure you want me cutting it?"

"Yes, yes, go on now..."

"You get the first piece!" Carl yelled.

Clint patted his stomach, "Na, I have to pass."

The crowd groaned as if their sails deflated.

"You know, I have to watch my girlish figure, now."

"One piece, Sir. Just a bite," Barry urged.

"Well, okay, just a bite."

The crowd cheered once again, breaking into the chorus once more.

Clint raised his hands in the air, "Please... please... thank you... you're all too kind."

"...and you're too modest, Sir," Barry said, "Launching our very first voyage to a distant star with a live crew, no, Sir, that's history in the making, Sir!"

Clint opened his mouth and inserted a fork with a large piece of cake. He chewed and swallowed and raised his eyebrows, "Wow, that's a great cake! Eat up everyone!"

He took the knife and sliced the cake in several squares while Barry served them to each of the attending group.

"To the Director of Jupiter Station!" Barry shouted.

Several men picked Clint up into the air and carried him around the Promenade, continuing the celebration into the early hours of the morning.

Eight

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 14:35:15

The Aevus

"This isn't some kind of hoax, now is it, Bo?"

"Skipper? What ya' take me for, anyway?"

Tipper looked out the side window at the approaching ship, locking in synchronous orbit, "This is no hoax, Jonas? You can see its right there!"

"What if Jupiter Station, or, or, the Mars Consortium launched a similar ship? That's gotta be it, yeah!"

"Skip," Bo pointed, "Look out the window, man, it has the same insignia. I'm picking up the same transponder codes... it is, without a doubt, the Aevus."

"Scan for life signs."

"Scanning now, Jonas," Pippen reported. "Nothing. Not even a fly."

"Air? Environmental's?"

"Both online, Jonas," Tipper reported. "The ship's reactor and systems are online, but nobody's home."

Bo looked over to Jonas, "The ship's skiff isn't docked. It's missing in action, Skipper."

"Okay folks," Jonas said with raised eyebrows, "Tipper, Doc; you're with me. Bo, Simon and Taylor, hold the fort down, we're going over to have a look."

"You can't be serious, Skipper," Bo protested, "What about our dearly departed down stairs? You can't ignore the fact we just lost a valuable crew-member."

"I haven't forgotten about Sterling. We'll have to grieve his loss later. Right now, we have to figure out what's going on, wouldn't you say, Mister, I can't wait to see this..."

"That was before I found out about Sterling."

"We should at least have a word," Tipper added, unbuckling her harness.

Jonas removed himself from the forward pilot seat and stood with his metal boots attached to the deck. His hands together and head bowed, "A moment of silence... as we remember our fallen crewmate. Starling Hess, you will be sorely missed... Amen. Now get our skiff ready, we'll leave in ten minutes."

"Sheesh," Tipper snarled, bumping into his shoulder as she passed by, "You're one cold human being, Skipper."

"You said to give a word, and I gave about twenty. 'Sides, I'm not well versed in such matters, but if you think I should shed some tears, then..."

"Don't mock me, Jonas," Tipper said, turning to point a stern finger in his face, "That's two!"

"Two what?"

"Two marks, Skipper."

"What happens after three?"

"You don't want ta' know."

"I'm still your Captain, let's not forget that, 'eh Tip?"

"Right... Captain."

"...Though I do prefer Skipper."

"Skipper," Pippen interjected, "I recommend that we use all contaminant safety protocols. There's no life signs, so if we find them dead over there..."

"... say no more, Doc., you got it. We'll take all necessary precautions to prevent any contagions from infecting us."

"...that gives me a nice, warm and fuzzy feeling," Tipper said under her breath.

Jonas led his team to the lowest deck. Tipper stepped over to a free-standing console. A railing surrounding the hatch at their feet. She pressed several commands, "I'm prepping the skiff... Activating environmental controls... pressurizing cabin... all systems are booting up. We can begin our engine prep once inside."

"Thank you," Jonas said.

Reaching around Tipper, he pressed the hatch release to the skiff. The two halves of the airlock door slid open, exposing a ladder descending into the airlock.

Jonas motioned with his hand down the hatch, "After you, ladies."

Pippen slung two med kits over her shoulder and climbed down the ladder, her magnetic boots clicking with every step. Tipper followed, carrying a large blaster rifle over her shoulder.

"Can never be too careful, 'eh, Tip?"

"You can bet your ass on that, Skipper. Not going to let us get caught with our pants down."

"Apparently..."

"...and what's that supposed to mean?" Tipper paused, looked up to give him a sneer before joining Pip below.

"Take it any way you wish... you know, if the shoe fits..."

"I'm not laughing over here."

Jonas descended the ladder with his own weapon strapped to his waist and a large gun over his shoulder. He reached over to the panel and hit the close command, sealing the three inside the airlock.

Tipper tapped her wireless on her ear, "Bo, do you read us?"

"Loud and clear. Jonas, Doc; give me a radio check, please."

"This is Jonas, test... test... you read?"

"Yes, Sir... now Doc, how 'bout you?"

"Test... copy that?"

"Don't be so enthusiastic next time," Jonas kidded.

"Yeah Doc, I read you."

"Okay, we're entering the skiff now, Bo," Jonas said, hitting the airlock button.

Each of them stepped to the side of the airlock allowing the doors to split open below. They each took a separate ladder and climbed down into the skiff. Jonas pressed the close sequence, sliding the hatch and sealing them inside.

The quiet drum of the ship gave them an eerie feeling. Electronics covered the walls of the small ship with extra white padding layered between sections. The skiff sat eight crewmen; four in tandem with the pilot and copilot seats the most forward.

Jonas strapped in his left seat while Tipper took the right, "Doc, you better secure your gear, we're about to detach," Jonas nodded.

Tipper pressed commands at her station, "Port outboard is online... starboard outboard is online. We're ready to depart."

"Bo, release the skiff's docking clamps," Jonas ordered.

"Aye-aye, Skipper, you're free as a bird down there."

They heard a clunk as the magnetic locks released their hold, "Give me thrusters; Z minus ten degrees."

"You have thruster control, Jonas," Tipper answered with more console inputs.

Jonas grabbed the flight controls and maneuvered the sleek craft down and away from the Aevus.

"Ahead one quarter thrusters," Jonas smiled, "Aligning skiff with target."

"Skipper," Bo said over the comm link, "Why not do a fly by and peek through the windows."

"Great idea, Bo," Jonas answered. "Adjusting course and speed... slowing to one tenth thrusters... Tipper, turn the cameras on and see if you can get any close ups."

"Copy that, Skipper," Tip said, turning in her seat to the console on her right.

Jonas flew the skiff down the starboard side of the mysterious ship, "You getting anything, Tip?"

"Nope, it's dark as the ace of spades in there."

"Guess nobody left the lights on."

"Nope, I don't see anything, Jonas. We should proceed to the dock."

"Aye-aye, Captain Tipper..."

Tipper shot Jonas another glance, "You're getting close to three, Skippy."

"I hate Skippy, so that's Skipper, to you... and yes, I agree we should proceed to the dock..."

"See? I know your every move, Jonas."

"Uh huh... just keep it up..."

"Or what, Jonas? You going to beat me up or something?"

"How about an extended stay in your cryo-tube?"

"If it'll get me away from you, then yes!"

"Tipper, be nice... I promise I was a perfect gentleman..."

"Uh huh... sure..."

"I have the doctors backing on that one. There's no point in arguing it, Tipper, you have the hots for me."

Tipper burst out with laughter, "Oh boy... Jonas, you're something else," she turned away to hide her smirk.

Jonas took one hand off the flight controls and pointed at Tipper, "See? I can make you smile."

"Just shut your pie-hole and land this thing? I'd rather like getting this over with."

"Say no more, sweet cheeks," Jonas said as the skiff clunked against the ship's hull. "Can you initiate the magnetic locks, please?"

Tipper flipped three switches on the center console and the skiff locked in place with another clank, "Your wish is my command, Skipper."

"Oh, really?"

"Not so fast, lover boy. Doc, let's get your bio-scanner to work up there."

"I'm already on it, Tip," Pippen answered, holding her med kit in one hand, "and if I may add, you are the one with elevated hormone levels..."

"Hey," Tipper shot in return, "I thought us ladies would stick together on this?"

Pippen whispered her reply, "There's not enough ladies to stick together with."

Tipper's eyes grew with rage, growling at the Doctor, "You're right about that. At least I'm not a tramp!"

"Ladies, ladies," Jonas said with raised hands, "Let's focus on the mission, m'kay?"

Pippen turned and headed to the air lock, "Don't overuse the term, Skipper, since there's only one in present company."

"Thank you, Doctor," Tipper answered.

"I wasn't referring to you!"

"Okay, that's enough!" Jonas ordered.

The three donned helmets. Ascending through the airlock on the ladders to the lower deck of the mystery ship, Tipper headed to a computer console. Jonas sealed the hatch, sliding the two halves together and pressurized the seal.

"Here, let's bring up some lights, shall we?"

The flooding light invaded the darkness as she brought power to more systems.

"Okay, Pip; start scanning for any bio signs. Tipper; you take point and I'll take the rear."

"Just don't get any ideas, Jonas," Tipper warned, holding her weapon at the ready.

Jonas took his weapon and loaded a round, "Oh you don't have a thing to worry about over here, Tip."

"That's refreshing..."

"...as long as you're holding that gun, you're safe."

"You know I do sleep with one under my pillow, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Remember? I found that out two years ago on our last fun filled time together."

"This deck is clear, Skipper," Pip reported, "No life signs of any kind. No infection. The ship's air is good. We're safe to go helmets off."

"Do you read us, Bo? We're going helmets off."

"Copy that, Skipper," the crew heard over their headsets.

"Let's head to the cryo-bay," Jonas instructed.

Tipper took point and headed two levels to the cryogenics bay, "It's empty alright."

"Doc, check out Sterling's tube. You read any of his bio matter... in other words, are there any remains?"

"Excellent point, Skipper," Pippen said, "Scanning the tube... negative. There are no remains."

"Jonas," Tipper said, examining the cryo-tubes, "These tubes should be damaged, but they're not."

"Let's check out the flight deck," Jonas said, "see if Bo's handy patch work is in place."

Tipper paused at another computer terminal, "I'm not reading any damage, Jonas. It's like the shrapnel never punched holes in her."

"This is very odd, very odd indeed!"

Tipper looked over to Jonas, "Okay, this is really a new level of strange... This ship never lost any of its air, or suffered the damage we have."

The three made their way one more level up and entered the flight control section. Jonas pointed to where the rupture should be, "Look, no patch."

The team's earpieces broke the silence with Bo's voice, "Umm, Skipper, you copy?"

"Roger, Bo, we read you."

"I'm getting some pretty strange readings, Skipper."

"Explain."

"It's the ship's reactor... or I should say the other Aevus' reactor."

"Jonas," Tipper said there's no damage to the ship's flight computer screens, "I'm seeing it here too. The reactor power signature is set on overload."

"Can you reverse it?"

"Negative, the panels are locked out. Someone input an encryption code."

"We've got about two minutes before this ship explodes!"

"Skipper, you'll not make it back in time," Bo said. "You'll be caught in the blast wave!"

"Understood!" Jonas exclaimed, "Take the Aevus down. The atmosphere will protect the ship. We'll follow down in the skiff!"

"It's gonna be close, Skipper," Bo replied.

"Break orbit, Bo, do it now! We'll meet up with you on the surface!"

"Aye-aye, Skipper, breaking orbit, now. You better hurry!"

"Come on, let's move!" Jonas said with a wave of his arm.

"The sooner the better," Pippen exclaimed.

Tipper shot the doctor a glance as she followed Jonas, "I'm with you, sister!"

"Jeez, it's about time you two see eye to eye on something."

Tipper shot another glance at Jonas, "Shut it, Skippy!"

Nine

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 15:05:16

The Aevus

Jonas slammed his fist on the hatch airlock. The door split in half as it slid open. The three released their magnetic boots and plunged headfirst down the hole into their skiff. Tipper went through first, followed by a nervous Pip. Jonas brought up the rear and once again slammed his fist on the inner door switch, sliding the two halves back together with a clank.

Tipper flew through the inner hatch into the skiff's copilot seat and strapped in. She flipped switches and pressed commands bringing the skiff's systems online.

"We're clear!" Jonas shouted. "Undock us and get us outta here!"

"Me? You're the pilot!"

"I'm on my way up, but get this bird on the road for me!"

Tipper grabbed the flight controls in front of her and pushed forward. The skiff's nose dropped from under the mysterious Aevus.

"What direction, Jonas?" Tipper shouted.

Jonas flew into his pilot seat, with finger in ear, "I'm right here, no need to shout, Tip."

"Which way?" Tipper panicked as she watched Jonas strap into his seat.

"The planet! Point the nose toward the planet and hard accelerate with full thrusters!"

"You got it Skip," Tipper said pushing the nose down and the throttle to its stops.

"Easy, easy!" Jonas said as he finished strapping in. "Doc, you all set back there?"

"You said 'Full Throttle', Jonas."

"All set back here."

"...I thought you'd have a little common sense on the controls, Tip."

Tipper glared at Jonas as he resumed control of the skiff, "Bo, do you copy? What's your status?"

Bo sat in the Aevus' pilot seat, his eyes wide as silver dollars, "Goin' down, Skipper."

The Aevus rocketed toward the planet's upper atmosphere, wind burned across the ship's windscreen as they dropped into air flight.

"Skip, I'm picking up some very unusual readings," Bo said over the wireless. "Skip? You still with me?"

"Yeah, Bo! Just a little busy over here."

Tipper looked over to Jonas, "She's gonna blow!"

"Yeah, Bo! Like I said, we're still in the things wake. What kind of readings you picking up?"

"There are whole cities down here, Skipper. I mean massive cities."

"Say wha? How come we didn't scan those earlier?"

"She just blew, Jonas," Tipper yelled, "hold on... inbound shock wave in ten seconds!"

"It's gonna... be... close!"

Jonas wrestled with the flight controls, pushing the ship to its limits as they rocketed through the upper planetary stratosphere. The skiff shook and quaked as they penetrated the troposphere, escaping from the impending shock-wave.

The upper air whistled across the forward windscreen of the skiff. Jonas relaxed his death grip on the flight controls and looked over at Tipper, "Whew, I think we made it."

The small craft tossed to and fro at the high altitude, Tipper gave Jonas another glance in return, "You ain't a kiddin', Skipper. We're clear of the shock wave."

The skiff transitioned to air flight, and the turbulence diminished, "Damage report?"

"No damage, Jonas," Tipper said, looking over her displays.

"Bo, you still got a copy? What's your status?"

"Yeah, Skipper, Taylor's been scanning the planet for life forms of any kind, but he's coming up goose eggs. There ain't a single living organism. Not even on the smallest detectable level. Damn strange."

"You mean those cities on the ground are all empty?"

"Yes, Sir, there's a ton of infrastructure. Just nobody's home."

"Do you read any damage? Maybe they were wiped out in a war or something?"

"Nope, there's no damage to the cities whatsoever, Skip. It's in pristine condition."

"Keep on your current heading, Bo. Level off so we can dock up."

"Dock up? Why? You're gonna take off again?"

"Whattya mean, take off? We're several clicks behind you."

"No you're not."

"What are you talking about? Tell him, Tip!"

"Jonas isn't screwin' around, Bo, we are behind you."

"Not according to our latest scans. The skiff set down on a landing pad about two-hundred kilometers ahead."

Bo looked over to Taylor, "Scan again, maybe it's a ghost or somethin'?"

"I'm scanning and our skiff is confirmed landed."

"What about behind us?"

"Negative, Bo, the scanners aren't picking up any readings from behind us."

"Well, scan this!" Jonas shouted over the comm link, as he jammed the thruster control forward. "Better look in your rear-view mirror, you see us now?"

Bo looked over his shoulder and out the port side window, "Roger that, Skip, I see you. But that don't explain why we're picking up your skiff down there and not here."

"Well, apparently, we just ran into ourselves back there, so anything is possible. You said their skiff was missing, maybe that's it?"

"I've leveled out, Skipper, come on around and dock with us."

Jonas turned the skiff and circled around the Aevus and came up from behind, "I'll have to come in manually if our computers won't sync. Tip, can you guide me in?"

"Yeah, yeah, no problem, Jonas... you can start by slowin' down; you wouldn't want to miss our target, now would ya'?"

"Fine, fine, slowing to one-quarter thrusters."

"Ease up Z plus five degrees."

"Z plus five," Jonas repeated, pulling the controls ever so carefully.

"Yaw aft pitch Z minus two degrees."

Jonas again repeated the instructions and guided the small ship.

"Okay, locking on. One more degree port... and locked. We're docked."

"Engaging magnetic locks," Jonas reported, "Pressurizing airlock."

"Confirmed, we have hard seal," Tipper added.

Jonas unbuckled his harness, remaining quiet.

Doctor Morgan flipped her harness off and stood with her magnetic boots clanking, "That was a nice piece of flying, Jonas."

"Why thank you, Doctor," Jonas answered, waving his hand, "After you."

Tipper gave Jonas a roll of the eyes, "Come on, let's go topside and figure out what's going on."

Jonas turned and pointed a finger at Tipper, "I was just about to say the same thing."

The three made their way through the airlock and up to the pilot deck where Bo eagerly slid back from the pilot seat.

"Heh, that was fun, but she's all yours, Skipper."

Jonas reached over Bo's shoulder and engaged the ship's autopilot, "We'll remain at this elevation and circle around for a closer look. But before we do that, I think we should all go below and sort out what we know."

"You don't want to land yet?" Bo asked.

"No, not just yet, we need to gather more information to try to piece together what the hell's going on."

"Let's go," Tipper said, leading the way.

Arriving at the third deck, the galley, Simon fired up the stove and broke out a few pots and pans.

Tipper looked over to Simon, "What, all this excitement got you all hungry?"

"No," Simon smiled, "the sudden realization that I haven't eaten real food in nineteen months."

"Kid's got a point," Jonas said, scooting around the table, "We gotta eat."

Bo grew a worried look, "How about steering the ship?"

"Ah, the ship'll be fine, Bo, trust me."

"Trust? Yeah, that's what got me into this in the first place."

"You didn't want to come along on this fun filled trip?"

"I was until I got the wakie, wakie time every ten weeks."

"What's on the menu, Mister Stone?" Jonas asked.

"Synthetically shaped beef stroganoff."

"Yum, yum," Jonas smiled.

"I'm not hungry," Tipper added. "Can we get to the issue at hand sometime today?"

"Speak for yourself," Taylor said, sitting next to Tipper.

"Tipper's right," Pippen offered.

"Hey, you two agreed twice today. Nice job."

"Shut it, Jonas!"

"Okay, let's look at the facts," Taylor interjected.

"Okay, you first, Mister Jorgensen."

"We come out of cryo-sleep. Everything went fine during our eighteen-month..."

"Nineteen months," Bo added, "and it wasn't a cakewalk either..."

"...Nineteen months," Taylor corrected.

"Then we scan our very own ship in a high equatorial orbit," Bo once more added.

"Which when we fly over to check out, triggers an overload in the system's reactor," Tipper added.

"Then when we punch through the atmosphere your... our... skiff is scanned as having landed at the base of a massive building."

"Did you see any of the buildings?"

"No, Skip, but there are entire cities down there spread all across the globe."

Jonas raised his eyebrows, "A ship that looks identical to ours, has the same insignias, and the same transponder codes. Hasn't suffered any damage, but is missing the skiff, and now we scan it planet side. Assume that's the missing skiff and it's landed at a massive building, and no one's home to answer the door."

"That's about it, Skipper," Bo said.

"Okay, logically speaking, this other ship can't possibly be the Aevus," Jonas shrugged, "Am I right on this point, or not?"

"No," Tipper disagreed, "I think it was our ship."

"So, logically speaking it can't be, but what? Hypothetically speaking it was?"

"How else can you explain this?" Tipper asked.

"Yet it was there," Simon said, stirring his concoction. "You can't dismiss the facts, we all saw it. We all saw the transponder ping on the surface."

Jonas nodded, "It's hard to discount the physical evidence. That much is certain."

"Let's just say for a moment," Tipper began, leaning against the backrest, "This ship is our ship. What's the only explanation that no one seems to want to talk about?"

"What, you think it time traveled here, Tipper, is that where you want to go?"

"Jonas, I'm only trying to consider all the possibilities."

"That is the only explanation that does make any sense," Simon added, taking a few plates from the locker over his head, he placed the stack on the table.

"So we're going to go there?" Jonas complained, "Time travel? Really? That's impossible."

"So is seeing our own ship," Tipper snapped.

"Who wants?" Simon asked, holding his serving spoon and pan in the air.

Jonas grabbed a plate from the table, "Load me up."

Taylor grabbed a plate and set it in front of him, "Me too."

Simon served everyone except Tipper, "What, you don't want any?" Simon complained.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry."

"Oh, come on, Tip," Jonas smiled, chomping a large fork full, "It's delish, 'sides, you need to keep your strength up."

"I'm fine, no thank you."

"That's an order, Tipper," Jonas again smiled, keeping his disgust at bay.

Taylor slid his plate away, "Yeah, I'm full."

"You only had a bite," Simon said.

Bo looked at the pan sitting on the table, "Wow, what are these supposed to be? Noodles?"

"Well, okay, so synthetic food's not real tasty," Simon agreed, "But it is nourishing."

"Only if you're a meat eater," Tipper said.

Jonas turned to Tip, "You eat meat."

"I don't eat synthetic meat. I'd rather drink one of those protein shakes."

Bo reached behind him and tossed her a packet, "Here ya go, just what the Doctor ordered."

Tipper snatched the packet in mid-air, tore the corner off and slurped the contents, "Well," she said, wiping her lips, "It tastes okay, just a little thick."

"Well, there's only one thing we can do," Jonas said.

Bo shoveled his food, "We go down and check out that other skiff. Maybe we left ourselves a clue, but only after supper... this is delicious! There's a large landing pad that will accommodate the Aevus," Bo nodded.

"Okay then. Let's finish up our food. Tipper, you're on KP duty."

"Why me?" Tipper protested, "I didn't even eat any of that!"

"Which is why you get to clean."

"That's not fair, Jonas."

Simon set the pan of left overs on the stove, "Sounds good to me, I cook, you clean."

"Should be you cook, you clean, if you ask me."

"Oh, come on. There's not that many," Jonas smiled. "I'll help ya..."

Tipper sneered at Jonas, "No thanks, I'd rather do it myself."

"I thought you'd see it my way."

Ten

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 15:47:36

The Aevus

Jonas turned the Aevus hard to port, and the crew focused out the side windows of the ship.

"That's some city," Taylor said.

"Metropolis," Tipper added.

Jonas circled the large black-colored pyramid structure, "More like a Megalopolis."

"It's beautiful," Pippen exclaimed.

"Always have ta' one up me, 'eh Jonas?"

"Well, what does it look like to you, Ms. Alien civilization expert?"

"Though we have pyramid structures back on Earth, I've seen nothing quite like this."

"You ain't a kiddin', Tipper," Bo gleefully added. "Over there, you've got pyramids with spires that reach to the sky. There, pyramids with flat apex..."

Pippen squeezed closer to Bo, her face almost cheek to cheek, "and some round buildings over there too, and what's that, Skipper," she pointed.

"That, looks like an aqueduct..."

Tipper cut Jonas off in mid-sentence, "aqueduct that's fully functional. It seems to deliver water to most of the major areas of the city."

"Are those stars glistening off the buildings black surface?" Taylor asked.

"It does look like shimmering stars are covering every one of these buildings. Breath-taking. Simply breathtaking," Tipper sighed.

"Three kilometers to target," Jonas said, leveling out the ship. "I'm on final descent. Taylor, you sure that pad will accommodate this ship?"

"Right as rain, Skip. The pad is a hundred and twenty meters long, by forty meters wide. Plenty of room since the Aevus is only a hundred meters by thirty meters at our widest point."

"Extending landing skids," Tipper said, returning to her co-pilot seat.

"Slowing to one-hundred KPH; thirty-five seconds to target," Jonas said.

"Engaging landing thrusters in twenty seconds," Bo reported.

"Firing reverse thrusters, to full power stop! Landing thrusters at my command," Jonas ordered.

"We are positioned over target landing pad," Tipper reported, "you have landing thruster control."

"Setting down in five, four, three, two, one... touch down!" Jonas said over the clunk of the compressing landing skids.

"Powering down systems," Tipper said, her fingers flying over her control console.

"We got breathable air out there, Taylor?"

"That was Sterling's expertise, but I am scanning. I'll have the readout shortly, but I think we're good, Skip."

"Doc?" Jonas said, turning in his seat, "What are your thoughts about this environment?"

"So far, my scans show we can breathe outside the ship."

"I agree with the Doctor," Taylor nodded. "Eight percent nitrogen, nineteen percent O2, and the rest argon and other trace gasses."

"Hmm," Pippen said, looking at her readings, "The air two percent thinner than we're used to. Nitrogen concentration is also a little higher than I'd like, but we can breathe it, Skipper. I recommend we bottle up with reserve O2 to supplement in case we get light headed."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Jonas nodded.

"What about any airborne infections?"

"Nothing my scanners are picking up, Skip, we're safe," Pippen reported.

"Okay then, drop the gangway and we'll exit the ship and have a look around," Jonas nodded, sliding back from his pilot station.

"I for one would like to see if there are any logs on that skiff," Tipper said.

"You think there's a log, do ya'?"

"Well, there might be."

"I typically don't leave log reports."

"Well," Tipper said with a wink, "Maybe you did this time."

"Okay, let's head out," Jonas said, heading to the ladder.

Pippen followed behind Jonas, "We can pick up our breathers on deck four. Should be a supply of them by the airlock door."

"Never mind the breathers," Bo said with raised eyebrows, "just give me a big gun and I'm happy."

"You and me both," Simon agreed.

"There isn't anyone to shoot at, why would you take a gun?" Taylor retorted.

"'Cause you never know," Tipper and Jonas said in unison.

Jonas looked over to Tip, "Ah, a woman after my own heart."

"Knock it off, Skippy, let's just get this over with, m'kay?"

"Fine by me," Jonas said, finishing the four level descent. "Gangway hatch is at the bow. Come on, now, don't lose pace."

"Right on the way to big guns locker, Right, Skipper?"

"Oh you got that right, Bo ma' man. We will be loading up for any contingency."

"That's good ta' know, Skip," Bo nodded with a wide smile as Jonas stopped at a locker in the corridor.

"Computer; access arms locker, authorization Jonas-one-two-three."

"Voice authorization confirmed," the computer replied with door popping ajar.

Jonas opened the door and grabbed a set of grenade-looking devices fixed on a belt and handed one to Bo.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," Bo said, draping the belt over his neck.

Jonas handed him another large grenade launcher and smiled, "Then you'll really like this one."

"Gee, Skipper, let's not get too carried away, this'll do fine."

Taylor held his hands up refusing a sidearm from Jonas, "No thanks, I don't believe in guns."

"Take it," Jonas insisted with two shakes of the gun.

"I'll be fine without it, Skipper."

"That's an order," Jonas said with more authority, and not dropping his hand.

Taylor reluctantly took the side arm and placed the belt around his waist.

"...and for you, little lady," Jonas said, peeking his head around the open locker door, "We have something I know you'll appreciate."

"Nothing fancy, okay Jonas? Just a simple sidearm will suffice."

"Okay," Jonas said disappearing behind the cabinet door, "Have it your way," he answered, holding the sidearm out from the cabinet.

Everyone buckled their weapons and headed to the airlock where Tipper stood at the controls, pressing several commands, the airlock door slid open. They were taken back by the various fragrant smells invading their senses.

"Wow," Pippen exclaimed, "Roses..."

"No, no, I smell Lilac," Tipper said.

"Really," Jonas added, "You smell flowers?"

"Yeah, what do you smell?"

"Well it ain't roses," Jonas smirked, walking down the gangway.

"I smell hamburgers" Bo added, "You know, like fast-food joints back on Earth? Yeah, that's it. I was thinkin' of my favorite food."

"Always thinkin' with your stomach, eh, Bo?"

"You got that right, Skipper."

The crew stood on the pavement of the landing pad taking in the various scents when Jonas held his hand in the air, "Listen..."

"What is it, Skip?" Taylor asked.

"Silence."

"We're being quiet, Jonas," Tipper interjected.

"No, I mean, it's pretty quiet. No noise, other than the water flowing through the aqueduct nearby."

"Well, what do you expect?" Tipper shrugged. "There are no inhabitants to make any noise."

"Come on, the skiff is over on the next platform," Jonas waved with his arm.

The giant black-colored pyramid towered over the crew, giving an unusual feeling of depth with the star patterns glistening against the black backdrops of every building. They walked across a narrow bridge that connected the two landing pads elevated nearly a hundred meters above ground. The looming building held an entrance at the center of each side. Pathways led out from the entrances in each direction into the heart of the empty city.

"Looks like this building is used... was used, or whatever, as a meeting place," Tipper noticed.

"I can't wait to see what's inside," Taylor nodded, "This is so very cool. Just imagine: we're actually walking in an alien city... fascinating!"

Taylor rubbed his hands and forearms as he walked toward the skiff. Pippen noticed him wringing his hands and ran to catch up, "You okay, Taylor?"

"Yeah, why you ask, Doc?"

"Your hands bothering you?"

"Oh, that?" Taylor answered. "It's nothing, really."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, feels a little arthritic is all."

Pip grabbed her scanner from her side belt and ran it over Taylor, "Okay, but if it gets any worse, you'll let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, Doc, no problem."

Jonas stopped below the steps to the skiff, "Okay, here we are."

Tipper and Jonas each pulled their sidearm and held them at the ready before ascending into the skiff, and then they cautiously took each step up into the ship.

Ensuring no one was inside, they quickly inspected the computer, looking for any sabotage that the occupants may have left.

"We're clear," Tipper shouted down to the others, "Come on up."

"Okay, Tip, any signs of what's going on?"

"I'm searching the computer for any records... there... found it."

"You mean I actually left a log?"

"It appears so, Jonas."

"Well, play it."

"I'm getting there; hang on a second, will ya?"

"Testy!"

"Do you, or do you not, want to hear this?"

"Yes, I think we all do, so what're you waiting for?"

"For you to shut it!"

"Just play it already!"

Tipper pressed the command and the video screen lit up displaying a close up of Jonas.

"Turn it up! What's he... what am I saying?"

Tipper increased the volume of the recording and the crew began listening intently to the message.

"...it is our hope that by going back, we can stop ourselves from ever leaving Jupiter Station. I know this all sounds strange, but none of us can discount the things that we have seen. The accident... it was unavoidable. We had to do what we did, but that changed the course of Earth's history. We had no idea the repercussions our actions caused. That's why we all decided to go back. Should we fail, our backup plan is to leave the Aevus in orbit. We've set the reactor to go into overload if any ship docks with her. We must stop ourselves from ever going inside the star-covered pyramid..." Jonas lowered his head as the recording continued.

A man walked behind Jonas, the outline of his face unmistakable. Tipper pointed the same time Jonas shouted, "That's Sterling! He's alive!"

"Yes he is," Jonas smiled, "Go back a little. What was I saying about the Pyramid?"

"Hold on," Tipper ran the recording back a few seconds, "...decided to go back. Should we fail, our backup plan is to leave the Aevus in orbit. We've set the reactor to go into overload if any ship docs with her. We must stop ourselves from ever going inside the star-covered pyramid," Jonas looked down. Sterling walked behind Jonas who raised his head back to the camera, "If my alternate self is seeing this," the speaking Jonas grew a serious look, "Pack your bags... get back to Earth and never come back! Do not go inside... don't do it! You mustn't!"

Tipper leaned into the recording and tugged on Jonas, "Come on, Skipper, it's time. We have to go now."

"Right, right," the video played, "I just want you to know, this is the only way. We have to stop this from happening, if we don't, well, what you know as the Mars Consortium, will control everything. You cannot begin to know... just don't do it!"

The recording ended, the screen darkened, and the crew stared at Jonas. Tipper set her hand on his shoulder, "What are we going to do?"

Jonas shrugged, "Simple, we go inside and find out what the hell I was talking about."

"You sure that's wise, Skipper?" Bo asked.

"Apparently, we've already done it."

"Apparently," Tipper nodded.

"What about Sterling? He's alive, or was, oh man this is confusing!" Bo said.

"We all saw Sterling in the video. How do you figure?" Simon asked.

"We're not the first time the Aevus was launched," Jonas surmised. "The first time, we weren't attacked. So no damage to the ship, everyone survived."

"Mute the recording and play it back again. There were others in the picture," Jonas pointed, "Let's see how many we can find."

Tipper played the video and canceled the audio, "There's the Doc."

"... and me," Simons also pointed.

"You can see Bo behind Jonas, he's looking at that console," Tipper said.

"Where's Taylor?" Jonas asked. "I think I see everyone else except Taylor."

"Does that mean I'm dead in this version?"

"No, it doesn't mean you're dead, Taylor," Tipper assured, "Just that you're not in camera view."

"I know I said something about an accident."

"What do you suppose that is?"

"We won't know unless we go inside. That seems to be the key to all of this."

"I don't like it, Jonas."

"Relax, Tip, it'll be just like old times."

"That's what I'm afraid of..."

"Okay, so let's go see what's got my tidies all in a bunch, shall we?"

Eleven

FTL Year:

2518/03/12 - 17:02:16

Alien Pyramid

Everyone stood before the opening at the center of the black star-covered pyramid. The door rose four and a half meters above their heads, and eight meters wide. They stood, looking in the entrance in awe, the star patterns giving the walls and interior a strange depth as they walked into the darkness.

Inside, the pyramid was empty; only a small illuminated area was seen at the very center of the structure. A column of light traveled to the top of the structures apex and the star patterns that followed them to the inside were all they could see.

"What is this place?" Taylor exclaimed, walking toward the light. He all at once fell to one knee grimacing in sudden pain.

"What's wrong, Taylor?" Pip asked.

He returned to his feet, "It's nothing..."

"That's nothing? Falling to your knees is nothing?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just lost my balance is all."

He looked toward the light column and walked again, his face showing noticeable discomfort the closer he became to the strange lights.

Tipper held him back, "Not so fast, there Taylor. Let's get our bearings... you know, figure this all out first."

"This is what my alternate self said was so terrible that we shouldn't come in here? I'm not impressed... ooooh, a pillar of light!"

"Stop it, Jonas, this is serious stuff here," Tipper said,

"We don't know what's in that light," Bo cautioned.

"Skipper," Pippen began, after running her scanner on Taylor, "I'm concerned, Sir. Taylor's showing a few signs..."

"Ahhhh!" Taylor shouted out, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty structure.

"...he's showing signs of RAS."

"I'm fine!" Taylor argued, "Leave me alone, I need to find out what's in that light... yeah, yeah, the light, I have to go to the light!"

"We need to go back to the ship and check him out, Skipper."

"No! I'm okay," Taylor nodded, "We'll approach with caution. I got 'ya."

Tipper took two more steps toward the light, holstered her weapon, and knelt down, "Scooter? Is that you, girl?"

Jonas stopped and looked over at Tip, "What're you doing?"

"It's my cat, how the hell did she get here?"

"A cat, Tipper?"

"Yes, it's my cat..."

"Think about it, Tipper," Jonas said, "there's no cat," Jonas watched Tipper petting air.

"Ohhh," Tipper said coyly, "she's rubbing her head on my leg. She always does that."

"Chico!" Simon exclaimed next.

"What, I suppose that's your pet bird, Mister Stone?"

Simon held his hand in midair as if catching a flying bird, "Yeah, Chico, my baby!"

"Okay, everyone, take a step back," Jonas warned, "Something weird is goin' on, 'cause you both appear to be seeing things."

Tipper shook her head and stood, "Of-of course, Jonas, you're right," she glanced at Jonas giving him a puzzled look, "She couldn't be here... she died ten years ago... but it's so...so real!"

"Simon!" Jonas shouted, "Come back to reality, their guy, that bird's not really here..."

Simon smiled and gave the parrot a pretend peanut, "There ya' go... that's a good boy," he smiled as he scratched the parrot's neck.

Bo stepped over and shook Simon as he glanced between Simon and his bird vision. "It's alright, Simon."

"Yeah... yeah... I-I don't know what happened... Tipper's right, they were real... I'm tellin' 'ya!"

"How about now, are they gone?"

"Yes, Scooter's gone."

"So is Chico."

"Okay, people now... slowly... let's move a little closer..."

Tipper pulled her sidearm as she moved with the rest, "Still think this is no big deal, Skipper?"

"Yeah, um, whatever... I didn't see it."

"Neither did I," Pippen said, getting closer to Bo.

"Nor I," Bo said, wrapping his large arm around the Doctor, "It's okay, lil' Pip squeak, I'll protect 'ya."

Pippen warmed up to the safety of Bo's arm, "That's reassuring, thanks."

They moved closer to the beam of light and lit floor. Each seeing a chair come into view, the column of light appeared to pass through it.

"You see that?"

"Yeah," Jonas nodded, "a wooden chair."

"No, it's not wooden, it's a padded upright," Pippen explained.

"No, it's a red chase lounge," Bo corrected.

"Okay, its apparent this place is playing tricks on our minds," Tipper advised, "I suggest we proceed with extreme caution."

"Agreed," Jonas nodded.

The beam of light shed a glowing aura through whatever version of chair each of them saw. The blackness shimmering with more intense star patterns the closer they moved to the pillar of light.

Tipper stopped at the edge of the glowing light, staring at a tall dark-haired, muscular man.

Jonas stopped next to Tipper and fixed his eyes on a dark-haired voluptuous woman.

"Okay," Jonas said, staring at the apparition, "What do you see, Tip?"

"A tall dark and handsome man... you?" she sighed.

"Oh, I think you know me... my guess is that this place is reading our minds and letting us visualize what we want to see."

"You are quite right," the female apparition said to Jonas, placing a hand on her curvaceous hip.

"I see a dark haired man too," Pippen said.

"...and I think I'm seeing a version of what Jonas is seeing," Bo added.

"You are quite correct," the alien voice again echoed.

"Who are you?" Jonas asked.

The woman stood from the wooden chair and stepped closer to the edge of the light. Jonas took two steps backward and stopped.

"Don't come any closer!" he pointed his sidearm at the apparition.

"Be not dismayed," the apparition said. "There is nothing to be afraid of..."

"I asked you who you are. Mind tellin' us?"

"Step into the light, and you will know all you need to know about us."

"No, I don't think so..." Jonas kept his stance with his gun aimed at the woman.

"There is nothing to fear. We are not here to harm you."

"Okay, then you mind tellin' us what's going on? Are you responsible for us running into our own ship? You know, did you time travel us or something?"

"Step into the light, and you will know all you need to know about us."

"Yeah, yeah, you already said that!"

"Jonas," Tipper said, "I think it's a hologram, or something."

"You are quite correct," the male apparition turned and smiled, as it answered Tipper.

"Be not dismayed. There is nothing to be afraid of... Step into the light, and you will know all you need to know about us... There is nothing to fear. We are not here to harm you."

Taylor grimaced and doubled over with pain. He looked up to the apparition and stepped over the line separating the darkness of the pyramid and the column of light at the center of the building.

Jonas yelled, "No Taylor!"

As Taylor's foot touched the light, the circle expanded, enveloping every crew member. The apparition and chair vanished, leaving only the pillar of light towering to the apex.

Jonas, Tipper and the rest found themselves at a new distance, viewing the pillar of light from thirty meters away. Ghost like images of themselves were seen standing around the pillar of light. The faint images of Taylor winced with pain. His face contorted and his skin shriveled.

The pillar of light pulled him within, his body misshapen and elongated, his screams echoed throughout the structure in an eerie faint sound that quickly faded, returning to quiet. Taylor vanished from the ghostly apparitions. The crew heard nothing their doppelgängers were saying. They watched, not being able to move any closer to the light and then the images vanished.

"What the hell was that?" Jonas asked.

"I don't know, it looked like us," Tipper nodded.

"It looks like I disappeared into the pillar."

They looked on as new images appeared. Sterling and Jonas stood at the pillar, Tipper pulling at Jonas, the three argued in silence.

"What's happening now?" Simon asked.

"I don't know," Jonas answered, "It appears we're disagreeing about something."

"Where's Taylor?" Pippen asked.

"I'm not with this group. Where did I go?"

"It appears you were sucked into that pillar of light," Jonas answered.

"Wait," Tipper said, placing a hand on Jonas's shoulder, "Look, I'm pulling you toward the pillar."

"Yeah, seems we're eager to go after Taylor."

"How do you know that?" Taylor asked, now doubling over in pain.

"I don't know, I just do. Taylor, you okay?"

"I need to get him back to the ship," Pip urged.

"I can't move, it's like we're frozen here."

"I can't move either, Jonas," Tipper added.

"So, what do we do?" Simon asked.

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to fire a grenade at that... wait a minute, where's our weapons?"

"Mine's gone too," Tipper said, reaching for her sidearm.

They watched as the six apparitions of themselves joined hands and jumped into the pillar of light.

The six remaining crew elongated as they disappeared into the light, and then the group stood, once again, inside the circle of illumination.

"What the hell?" Bo protested.

"Nobody moves," Jonas ordered.

"Right, Skip," Bo nodded. "You won't have to tell me twice."

"Taylor?" Pip asked, "You feeling any better?"

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"What's happening to him?" Simon asked.

"It appears to be a delayed reaction. He's showing signs of RAS."

"You mean like, Sterling?" Tipper asked.

"No, not as severe, but troubling enough," Pippen examined Taylor's face, hands and arms, "Yep, classic aging signs are showing."

"That's why my arthritis is acting up," Taylor added.

"That's right, Taylor," Pip nodded. "I need to treat his symptoms, and soon."

"Can you stop the aging?" Jonas asked.

"No, but I think I can slow it down."

"Okay, you two head back to the ship. Bo, go with them for safety."

"Okay, boss, but I got no weapons."

"That's okay, just assist anyway you can."

"Come on, Doc, Taylor, you're with me, then."

The three left the circle of light. Jonas turned to Tipper but was interrupted by the three entering the light on the opposite side of the illumination.

"Well, that was fun," Bo said, turning around in a circle, "What just happened?"

"Back already?"

"I'm afraid we never left the building, Skipper."

"Yeah, we just left the illumination and ended up here."

"Okay," Jonas yelled out, "It's not funny anymore. Tell us what the hell's going on, already!"

The apparition reappeared in each of their familiar forms, "There is nothing to fear. We are not here to harm you..."

"Yeah, tell us something else, you broken record!"

"... Be not dismayed... time was needed for a complete analysis of your bio-chemical composition and to learn the words in which you will understand."

"Well, it's about damn time, already. Can we ask a few questions now?"

Taylor doubled over once again and threw up his stomach contents. The fluid splashed on the illuminated floor and then vanished.

"We can help the biological unit referred to as Taylor Jorgensen."

"Are you alive? I get the feeling you're not a biological life form yourself," Jonas said.

"You are quite correct, biological unit referenced as Jonas Arnell."

"Then what are you?"

"We are what is left after we moved the biological units of this planet."

"Moved? Can you explain that? We're not familiar with this technology."

"You are quite correct, biological unit referenced as Jonas Arnell..."

"...and you can drop all the titles, just call us by our first names, m'kay?"

"As you wish, Jonas."

"That's better, now who are you and what is this place?"

"We are what you would refer us to as a set of programmed instructions of a central processing unit which carries out arithmetic and logic operations, using a sequence of control units to fulfill orders of operation in response to stored information."

"You're a computer!" Tipper exclaimed.

"You are quite right, Tipper," the apparition answered.

"What is this place?" Taylor asked, wrenching once more in pain.

The apparition turned to Taylor, "We are sorry for any discomfort you are experiencing within the chamber. We will answer your question from a quote we have scanned from your ancient past... from where you come from, Earth year 1613 and in a book titled 'The Young Man's Gleaning' by English writer, Richard Braithwaite: 'I have read the truest computer of Times, and the best Arithmetician than ever breathed, and he reduceth thy days into a short number.'"

"How you know that," Jonas asked, "We don't even likely know of that writer in our present time."

The apparition turned to Jonas, "We scanned this passage from your history files. It refers to a person who carried out calculations, or computations. We thought you could better understand us by using references of things you can relate to."

"We understand that you are some type of computer, but what is this place, where did all the people go?" Jonas demanded.

"The biological life-forms that inhabited this planet have been saved to a time in their distant future."

"Why?"

"The star that lights this planet gave off dangerous radiation that would have killed all living things..."

"Looks like it did a good job, cause there's no one left."

"They have been transported to a new time; a time where the toxic radiation will no longer harm biological life forms."

"So, are you saying this building is a time travel machine?"

"In the simplest of terms, you are quite correct, Jonas."

"That would explain why this city is vacant, but how is it kept in such pristine condition?" Tipper asked.

"We maintain the city so it will be ready when its inhabitants arrive."

"Which is when again?" Jonas asked.

"We did not indicate a star date in which biological life-forms arrive."

"Okay, when, and how long ago were they... moved?"

"They were teleported through the time chamber matrix over one-hundred and fifty thousand of your Earth years ago."

"And when do they arrive?"

"They will begin living on this world in five-hundred thousand of your Earth years from when they were moved."

"So in another three-hundred and fifty thousand years from now?"

"You are quite correct, Jonas."

"What were we seeing before?" Pippen asked.

The apparition turned to face the Doctor, "We were allowing your emotions to be put at ease. By introducing memory stimuli, images of familiar items were introduced to lessen the emotion of trepidation."

"...and the images of ourselves?" Jonas begged.

"Those were previous images that were recorded and displayed to show that you traveled across the passage of time."

"Then it was us we were seeing."

"You are quite correct, Jonas. Images of what you have already done... what you must do again..."

"What if we don't go into the pillar of light?" Tipper asked.

The apparition turned to Tip, "You cannot prevent that from occurring, as you have already traveled to the programmed destination."

"What about the other Taylor, how could you have programmed his destination?"

"We did not anticipate that the biological life form you refer to as Taylor would enter the time matrix chamber prior to our instruction code from being completed."

"Where did he go then," Simon asked.

"He went to the same place that his biological copy went."

"I haven't gone anywhere," Taylor protested, still noticeably in pain.

"You have and you will, Taylor... there are two copies warring in space-time; fighting one reality over the other."

"Don't go, Taylor," Jonas ordered.

"I can't stop myself," Taylor said, lurching over in pain.

"He is correct, he must enter the teleporter. You must stop your other self."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You will have a better understanding once you enter the light. Go to the light, Taylor... stop your alternate from changing Earth's past."

Taylor doubled over with gut wrenching pain, "I can't do anything with this pain!"

"The pain will subside once you enter the pillar, Taylor... go now... you must catch and stop yourself. We have detected severe repercussions already occurring in this reality."

The pillar pulsated and Taylor reached out his hand and plunged it into the pillar of light. His screams faded once his body elongated, being sucked into the light, disappearing from the rest of the crew.

Twelve

Earth Year:

2486/11/15 - 11:30:15

Somewhere near Ohio

A stiff breeze blew across Taylor's back as he lay face down in a gutter. Water trickled down the gutter after a heavy downpour. A piece of newspaper blew across the street, rattling in the gusts. Taylor's clothes soaked to the bone, stuck to his aging skin.

Turning to his back, water splashed against the brick wall, wetting his face. He struggled to open his eyes, the bright sun shining down on him, caused him to squint and hold an arm over his head to block the sun's rays.

"Where am I," Taylor muttered as he wallowed in the street filth.

Another man walked over to him, and grabbed his arm, "Come on, you gots' ta' get outta the street, old man."

"What?" Taylor mumbled in reply.

The man's persistence gained Taylor's favor, helping him to his feet, "What's yer, name, mister?"

"I...I'm afraid I don't recall," Taylor staggered against the brick wall.

The tall and slender, middle-aged man steadied him, "Whoa, ya' must've tied one on purtty goodt las' night."

"I don't think so."

"Then how'd ya' get in da' gutter if you weren't drunk?"

"I-I can't remember..."

"Come on, let me' tak' ya' home, see if ya' can start ta' ramemba' what and who ya' are."

"Where's home?" Taylor asked, draping his arm around the man's neck.

"I gots' a room, you can stay with me. Gots' any money to help pay the rent?"

Taylor felt his pockets, searching for credits, "No, I don't."

"That's okay, we can square up later."

"Thanks, mister. Say, what's your name?"

"Carlisle, Carlisle Burns. Wish ya' had a name, mister."

"Yeah, I can't remember anything."

"Well, I'll take ya' to my place where ya' can gets ya a warm shower and dry ya' funny looking clothes."

"Funny lookin'? How so?" Taylor asked, inspecting his wardrobe.

"One-piece jumpsuits ain't been in style for a decade, but ya never know, fads come n'go... and that flight jacket; never seen one like it befoa'."

"What's the day?"

"You really tied one on, didn't ya', feller."

"My heads buzzing. Can't say I know why."

"Well, we're here, just ta' the top of da' stairs. Can ya' make it?"

"Yeah, I, think so."

Taylor laboriously climbed the fifteen steps to the door. Carlisle touched the door with a clear plastic card, sliding the door open and exposing a small dingy looking hotel room. The two entered, Taylor peeled his flight jacket off and collapsed on the sofa.

~ Three Days Later ~

2486/11/18 - 07:00:28

Carlisle pressed a command on the wall, opening the window shades. The bright sun lit the small hotel room, shinning on Taylor's face.

"What time is it?"

"Ya' been out three days, mister. You better wake up and eat and drink somethin', you're gonna dehydrate."

"I'll be okay."

The man held a bottle of water, "Here, drink this, it'll make ya' feel betta'."

Taylor reluctantly grabbed the bottle and held it to his dry and cracked lips. He took two gulps letting some of the liquid dribbled down his neck.

"There, that any betta', mister?"

"Yeah," Taylor gasped, "thanks."

"You rememba' anythin' yet?"

"A little, I think my name's Taylor..." he thought for a moment, "yeah, pretty sure."

"Well, Taylor. Ya' gots' ya' a last name?"

Taylor took another couple of long gulps and thought a moment, "Jorgensen... Taylor Jorgensen."

"Well, Taylor," Carlisle said, offering his hand, "Nice ta' meet ya'."

Taylor shook his hand, "Thanks again for bringing me in."

"Don't mention, it. Ya' ramemba' where ya' from? Ya' gots' a job?"

"No, I still feel pretty weak. Must have been sick or something. Can't say I remember much else right now."

"Well, stay as long as ya' need. Maybe you should come ta' work with me at the factory, could always use another pair of hands."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'ma' serious...We're buildin' parts for Jupiter Station."

"I can't get any work, I don't have any credentials. No way to prove who I am."

"Now you're pullin' ma' leg. Come on, Taylor, it's 2486. You'll be one of the lucky ones, gettin' a job. Most are starved in the streets, ya know."

"Why? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Guess I've been out of touch."

"I'll say. Ever since the Mars colonists attacked, we've been deprived of resources, so's we can build up defenses? Caused the biggest famine our countries ever seen... takin' all the resources and dumpin' it in this Jupiter project. But it pays most of da' bills... You can work with me at the factory as long as I vouch for ya'. The pay is ten credits per day."

"Is that a lot?"

"It's enough to pay ya' room and board."

"Okay, sounds like I've got myself a job."

"Right, I'll go ta' set it up. You can start day afta' tomorroa'."

"Good, that'll give me more time to rest. I'll be back on my feet by then."

"See to it ya' do' 'cause you can'ot stay here much longa without helpin' me out."

Taylor glugged the water until it was empty, set the bottle next to him on the sofa and extended his hand to the man, "A deal's a deal. I'll pay you five credits a day for room and board."

"Make it eight, and ya' gots' a deal."

"Seven..."

"Eight, or you walk outta' here now and you don' get a job!"

Taylor nodded before the man accepted his handshake, "Ya' gots' yourself a deal, mister."

~Three Weeks Later ~

2486/12/02 - 02:15:35

Taylor tossed on the sofa in the tiny hotel room. He dripped with sweat, his head turning back and forth, his clothes leaving stains on the cushions from night after night of sweating.

Dreaming, his eyes darted under his eyelids, seeing images of himself; images of his former crew and of the black pyramids of the ancient city of Gliese 667 Cc.

Bits and pieces of Taylor's memory shot as faint remembrances of times he had. He saw memories not yet fully able to understand as if they were half-truths that his mind was using to play tricks. His mind toyed with his body, making him feel as if he belonged where he was. Deep down, Taylor knew he did not belong here. Somehow he was now in a new life. Something he could not comprehend.

"But what of these images," he thought. "What do they all mean? Who are these shipmates I keep seeing in my dreams? Why do things Carlisle tells me seem vaguely familiar, like I know what's going to happen next?"

Taylor continued through the night, waking up several times, hearing the screams of those people in his nightmares. Those people he somehow knew he was connected with. He hoped his memory would return soon, so he could get on with his life.

~Three Months Later ~

2487/03/05 - 17:35:10

"Da' foreman likes your work, Taylor," Carlisle said as the pair walked in the pouring rain back to the hotel. Taylor held a handle that compressed air over their heads, shielding them from the deluge.

"Thanks, I feel at ease with the work. Feels natural and all."

"Well, he said he wants to promote you to a communications systems lead. Hey, how's 'bout that?" Carlisle said, slapping Taylor's arm, "I'm kind of jealous, me gettin' ya' this here job an all."

"Well, I do appreciate all you've done. With a promotion, I should be able to afford my own place."

"You'll have so much dough, I could come stay at your place."

"Well, if I get enough, I do owe you much gratitude. I never forget friends who have helped me out."

"Right outta da' gutter," Carlisle reminded.

"Yes, yes, you can stay with me for only eight credits a day."

Carlisle pointed his thumb at Taylor, "Funny guy, here- a regular comedian."

"Okay, five credits."

"Gettin' closer..."

"Free?"

"You gots' ya' self a deal, Taylor."

The two hiked up the steps to the tiny hotel room and entered. Taylor turned off the airbrella and set it in a canister by the door.

"Here," Taylor said, handing Carlisle a wad of credits.

"Whaz this fo'? Ya' already paid up through the week. Where'd ya get such stash? Been gettin' lucky on da' ponies?"

"Just take it. I've been investing in the market. Just seems I've got a knack for knowing what's good and what's not. I've hit returns every time."

"Ya' been holdn' out on ol' Carlisle, have ya'?"

"No, just wanted to surprise you."

Carlisle reached out for the credits and took them with a smile, "There must be two-hundred credits here. That's almost an entire month!"

"Like I said, I take care of my own."

"You got more where this came from?"

"Yeah, I've got more investments. They won't pay out for nine more months though."

"Well, thanks ya', you're a good friend."

"Thanks, I said I was indebted to you, and I meant it."

* * *

Taylor woke with a start, sitting upright on the sofa, "I remember! I remember it all!"

Carlisle rose from his sleep and turned to Taylor laying on the sofa, "Da' ya' mind? I'm tryin' ta' get me some rack time. Now will you please be quiet?"

"Carlisle, I remember who I am, and where I come from..."

Carlisle lifted up on his elbows and stared at the man in the dark, "This had better be good, fer' ya' ta' wake me from such a sound sleep."

"I come from the future..."

"The future!?" Carlisle burst out with laughter.

Someone in the next unit pounded on the wall, "Will you both knock it off!" the voice shouted through the paper-thin walls.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh, quiet down or you'll get us both kicked out of here."

"Me? You're the one crashing on my sofa!"

"Alright, sorry."

"The future, you say? Do they still have sandwiches there?"

"I'm serious!"

"So am I, we gots' ta' eat."

"No, no, it's not like... yes, we still eat, but no, I mean, I remember my friends. How I got here, and some pretty unusual memories too... things I've done, but I'm still pretty fuzzy on."

"Ya' stayin' long, or should I let the boss know he should give me da' lead spot?"

"I don't know how long I'll be here."

"Ya' gots' any other delusion you want ta' share?"

"No, go back to sleep, Carlisle."

"Fine, fine. Morning comes purty early, now," Carlyle said, turning his back to Taylor.

Taylor closed his eyes, going over in his head the visions he'd seen. He knew about the attack on Jupiter Station. What day it happens, and he knew what he must do. His mind wandered as he went in and out of sleep, seeing strange images of old colonial Earth. Images of mysterious woman who's hand he knelt down to kiss, "Ah, Lady Josephine," he saw himself say, "you are so fair, my eyes cannot depart from thee."

Not knowing proper protocol of the day, he then saw himself with a pistol in his hand, taking ten paces away from another opponent. Taylor thought he had apparently offended the man, and he challenged him to a duel. He watched his vision of himself coming to the tenth step, turn and aim his pistol at the man. Pulling the trigger before his opponent, the challenger fell to his knees. Blood gushed from his gunshot wound and the man fell on his face, dead.

Another man came to his side yelling, "Napoleon! Napoleon!"

A third man took Taylor by the arm and spoke to him in French, "You've killed the General!"

He then saw himself double over with pain and he vanished into thin air. His next memory was three months earlier, laying in a gutter.

~ Three Years Later ~

2490/05/15 - 14:25:54

"You've done very well for yourself, Taylor," the factory's vice president of operations said.

"Thank you, Mister Crawford, you don't know how much that means to me."

"...and that's why I called you into my office today."

"Sir?"

"You're up for promotion again. I want you to head up operations."

"Head of operations, Mister Crawford?"

"Director Jorgensen is your new title."

"Thank you, Mister Crawford. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. You're a real asset to the project."

"Thanks..."

"However, I wouldn't be thanking me just yet."

"Oh?"

"I have an unpleasant task for you."

"Anything, Mister Crawford."

"I need you to let someone go at the end of their shift. They're just not pulling their weight. Coming in late almost every shift and making excuses. Here's the file," Mister Crawford said, handing him a red-colored folder.

* * *

Carlisle looked into Taylor's eyes with disbelief, "I can'ot believe what I'm hearin'. I'm being let go?"

"I'm sorry, Carlisle, but you've been given several warnings, and we can't let this behavior slide anymore. Missing deadlines is unacceptable."

"You can'ot do this... after everything I've don' fer' ya'..."

"You're being given a generous severance...here, just take it before they change their minds."

"Change their minds? How's about ya' changin' your mind?"

"It's been a pleasure working with you, Carlisle. Thank you for everything, but we must part ways," Taylor shoved the credits in the air closer to Carlisle.

"Thanks for nothing... friend," Carlisle snatched the credit vouchers from Taylor's hand, turned, gave him a sneer, and then stormed off the factory premises without saying another word.

~ Thirty Years Later ~

2516/03/16 - 16:15:14

"Mister Secretary, excuse me, Mister Secretary," Taylor's aide said, shaking the aging man awake, "We'll be landing at Jupiter Station shortly, Sir."

Taylor shook the sleep off and looked up at his aide, "Thanks for the heads up. How soon before we dock?"

"We're entering the landing bay now, Mister Secretary."

"Okay, thank you, young man."

"Director Bartholomew is waiting in his office on the station's main promenade, Sir."

Taylor's shuttle entered the landing bay and set down. Placing a felt hat on his head, he left the shuttle and headed to the Director's office.

The door to the director's office slid open. The director glanced up, moved his hands to close the holo-display and greeted him.

"TJ! Good ta' see ya," Clint stood and offered a hand.

Taylor extended his wrinkled and withered hand, barely squeezing the director's hand in return.

Clint motioned for him to take a seat opposite from the desk. Taylor removed his felt fedora and placed it on the edge of the desk and folded his hands in front, "Would you be so kind as to provide us some... privacy, Barry?"

"Oh, sure. Yes, Sir, Mister Secretary," Barry stood and let himself out of the office.

The secretary looked into Taylor's eyes, "What's this all about, TJ? Why the shroud of mystery?"

Taylor looked deep into Clint's eyes and asked, "Is the door sealed? I mean it's secure, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes, of course it is, Mister Secretary."

Taylor looked to one side and then the other before leaning forward, whispering, "I've waited a very long time for this moment."

Thirteen

Earth Year:

1795/10/15 - 16:30:30

Paris France

Vicomte Paul de Barras, a French Director, invited Napoleon Bonaparte to his private study.

"Mister Bonaparte," the man said, ushering the General into his study, "If you please, may I speak with you a moment?"

Napoleon half smiled and sat in the chair opposite Director Barras, "Yes, Mister Barras, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I wanted to personally thank you for running on the Paris Mob. They surely would have taken the palace. Your cannons opposed them and they were brilliant."

"Thank you, Director, you are most kind."

"If you had not brought down those canons and killed hundreds of Protestant protesters, the national convention would have been over run, and the palace lost."

"Anything I can do for our cause, Mister Barras."

"Please, call me Vicomte. We've known each other for some time now. Your appointment to General after the battle of Toulon was a great victory. You are the youngest and smartest General at only the age of twenty-four. You shall lead France to many victories."

"Being the youngest General has been difficult with subordinates."

"I can understand their position with their opposition. I should like you to meet someone that could spell success in this matter. I think you will enjoy her company a great deal."

"I am looking for a wife of an advanced age as I. If I marry an older woman, I believe the troops will be more inclined to follow me as their youngest General."

"Her name is Marie-Josephe-Rose de Beauharnais, and she will be attending a party this evening. Why don't you come tonight and meet her?"

"That sounds delightful, Vicomte. However, her name is something that will be difficult to get over. Perhaps I shall call her Josephine instead."

Vicomte hid a slight smirk, "I'm sure you will hit it off with her, Napoleon."

"I look forward to meeting her," Napoleon stood and bowed slightly to the French Director, "Until this evening."

Vicomte stood and led him to the door, "By your leave."

"I wish you a good evening, Sir."

"Your servant, Sir."

Waiting for Napoleon to leave, he called out, "Wife, may I speak with you a moment?"

"What is it, my Husband?" the lavishly dressed woman said, turning the corner.

"I would like for you to entertain a gentleman at our party this evening. Take an interest in him and praise his military skills."

"The man who just left, my Husband?"

"Yes, General Napoleon Bonaparte. Indeed he is my newest and youngest General."

"Oh, my," Marie said, fanning her face with a fan, "It shall be an easy task that you do ask."

"I do believe he is fond of the name Josephine; that is how he shall address you."

"He does not like my name?"

"I implore you to do as I ask, wife..."

"To be sure, Husband, you know these matters better than I."

"Very well then. It is settled. This evening comes upon us quickly. Please take your leave of me, and so you shall have proper time to prepare."

"I bid you adieu and shall take my leave."

* * *

The cool breeze chilled the party guests on this October evening. The stars shone brightly in the night sky as the guests mingled and talked with one another.

"Good of you to make it, General," Vicomte said, greeting his new guest, "Marie, ah, Josephine is right this way. She's been expecting you."

"Wonderful, wonderful, I cannot wait."

The two made their way through the banquet room to the outer grounds at the back of the estate.

Vicomte looked about, "I know she is out here. I only saw her moments before your arrival."

Napoleon pointed over Vicomte's shoulder, "There. Sir, I do believe that is her over yonder?"

Vicomte turned and fixed his eyes on his wife, "Yes, that is Josephine... but who is she with?"

"I have not seen him before," Napoleon answered, "Come, introduce us."

They approached a laughing Josephine, with a man down on one knee, he held her hand to his lips, "Ah, Lady Josephine. Madam, I do greatly admire your gown. I must say, you are so fair, my eyes cannot depart from thee."

Napoleon grabbed the man and spun him around, "Sir, to what are you doing?"

"I-I'm not sure," Taylor said, standing to his feet, he stood face to face with the man.

"Sir, Josephine was to accompany me this night."

The woman continued carrying on and wrapped her arm around the stranger, "I think I shall prefer to accompany you," she said, looking up at Taylor, and then gave her husband a glance, "You are an attractive man."

Napoleon's face turned red with anger and then he slapped Taylor with his gloves on each cheek, "You have dishonored me this night! I challenge you to a duel at dawn!"

Napoleon turned to his host, gave the man a quick bow, and then spun around toward the exit, "Sir, I thank you for inviting me, but I must take my leave!"

* * *

Vicomte walked with Taylor, "Sir, do you realize you are to face the most brilliant military man I have ever known? Why did you insult him? She was to be his escort last night."

"I'm not sure," Taylor answered, "I can't even remember who I am at the moment."

"Where do you come from?" Vicomte asked, inspecting Taylor's clothing.

"I cannot remember. However, I shall restore Napoleon's honor and face him in your courtyard."

"Dawn arrives in less than an hour. There is time for you to take your leave if you so desire. Napoleon's honor will be restored regardless if you duel, I shall see to that."

"I gave him my word. I shall not be remiss and dishonor myself."

"Very well, then you will surely die in this that you shall do."

"It is of grave importance that I do this... I don't know why, but I feel compelled in this matter."

* * *

The two men stood face to face in the open yard. Vicomte held a wooden box, the lid propped open exposing two flintlock pistols, "Each of you will choose your weapon. You will stand back to back and walk five yards, turn and fire upon your opponent. You will each have three loads. The duel is ruled satisfied if either should strike first blood, or if one is unable to continue, or by death."

"I am challenger," Napoleon said, "Sir, you may choose your weapon first."

Taylor looked at the wooden box and picked the closest one. He lifted it from the velvet lining. Vicomte gave him three balls and gun powder. Napoleon smiled, took the remaining pistol and shot. The two saluted one another and turned back to back and paced out the ten yards.

Taylor loaded the flintlock as he measured off his paces.

Across the field, a light briefly flashed, and another Taylor exited, stumbling to his knees.

He looked up just in time to see himself aiming a flintlock pistol at a man and fire. The man was hit in the chest. Blood spewed from the wound and he fell backward to his back.

Another man came to his side yelling, "Napoleon! Napoleon!"

A third man took Taylor by the arm, "You've killed the General!"

He then saw himself double over with pain and vanish into thin air.

They looked around and saw the younger looking Taylor and ran to him, "What have you done? You've killed the General!"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" the confused Taylor asked, "What just happened?"

Then he doubled over with pain and vanished before the two men. Napoleon lay in the field and bled to death on the green grass.

* * *

The two Taylor's fell through a vortex, one out of reach from the other. They tossed about within the maelstrom. Stars lined the walls of the corridor they traversed through. The first Taylor held his head, the second yelled out to the first, "What's going on? Who are you!"

The second Taylor shook his head and attempted to turn away from his approaching self.

"Don't turn away! Stop!"

But it was already too late as the first Taylor vanished from the vortex.

The second Taylor held his head and shook it, "I'm going mad! That couldn't have been me!"

A few seconds more and the second Taylor exited the vortex through a column of light, depositing him in a dark alley.

Taylor stumbled over a man passed out and lying in the gutter.

Earth Year:

2489/11/15 - 23:30:15

Somewhere near Ohio

"Come on, man, you gotta get up," Taylor said to the man. "Wake up, mister; you're going to die from your cold and wet clothes."

"Wh-where am I," the man stammered.

"Come on, get up already. Come out of the rain!" Taylor urged.

Holding the man's arm around his neck, he carried him to the overhang, "What's your name, mister?"

"Name's Carlisle... Carlisle Burns... what's yur's, mista'?"

"Taylor..."

"You best not be Taylor Jorgensen, thas' all I gots' ta' say."

"Why?"

"Taylor, humph! I saved him from this very gutter three years ago."

"What?" Taylor exclaimed.

"So, you're not him, are' ya? You look kina' familia', maybe' a younga' version... He said he was a time traveler. What a nut job! It neva' came up in conversation again... think it was three months afta' I met him, yeah, that was it. Three months after I gots' him a job."

"No, no, it's, um, it's Simon, yeah, Taylor Simon."

"Okay, hey, if you help me to my place you can stay there the night."

"Sure thing, mister," Taylor said, now trying to disguise his voice.

"Yeah, that one's a trip he is... scum bag, no good fur' nothin' scum bag, that's what he is!"

"Scum bag? He must've done somethin' pretty bad. What'd he do anyway, Carlisle?"

"I took him in... for three years I took him in. Gave him a decent roof over his head and a good job at the factory. That's what I did!"

"Did I... err, he return the favor?"

"Ha! No... he most certainly did not!"

"I can't believe that I...he would do anything bad to you."

"He done so well, he was promoted to Director."

"Director?"

"Yeah, Director of operations for the Jupiter Station project... then he fired me!"

"Fired?"

"Laid off, terminated, or whatevea' ya' want ta' say it is... they gave me a severance package, but that'll be gone soon enough."

"I'd like to meet this Mister Jorgensen. Do you think you can get me inside the factory?"

"Na, they took all ma' security cards. I gots nothing left but a few hunderd' credits. 'Sides, he don' work at this plant no more. He's movin' on over to headquarters in Florida, and then they'll likely transfer him ta' the station next year when its operational."

"If you take me to the factory in the morning, maybe you can introduce me to the foreman."

"You wants a job? I don't recommend workin' for any of them!"

"No, I want to ask around to see if I can find this Taylor."

"Wuz' in it fer' me, Mista'?"

"I buy you another bottle of what you're drinking tonight."

The man wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve, "You would?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay, mista'," Carlisle smiled, "You go gets me a bottle of suthern comfert, and I'll take ya' to the factory in the morn."

"Where's the nearest store?"

"Down the steps, turn left, and go down two blocks."

"They still open?"

"Ya, they neva' close."

"Great, I'll be back soon."

"Ya' betta' be if ya wanna see the factory."

Taylor followed the directions the man gave and soon came to the small convenience store. He pulled the door open, ringing a chime.

The store clerk looked up from his magazine just long enough to look at him in the eye, "Evening, mister. What can I do for ya?"

"Looking for a fifth of Southern Comfort."

"Second aisle on the right, third shelf down. Those are thirty-five seventy plus tax."

Taylor felt his pockets realizing he didn't have any credits, "Thanks, I'll go have a look."

"Suit yourself," the man said, continuing to lean on his counter, flipping pages.

Taylor found the elixir and took one bottle off the shelf. Inspecting the label he then doubled over with pain and vanished. The bottle smashed to the floor.

"You break it you bought it, mister," the clerk looked down the aisle and saw no one there, "Hello? Where'd ya go? You gotta pay for that... I'm calling the cops!"

Fourteen

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 18:36:12

Alien Pyramid

Jonas reached out as Taylor's body elongated and was sucked into the pillar of light. The stars on the black background of the interior walls glistened brightly as he disappeared.

"Where did they go!?" Jonas shouted to the woman apparition.

The computer-generated image waved their arm over the group's eyes. They found themselves standing a distance away from the pillar of light. The flickering star background quieted and dimmed. Their attention was taken by images flashing before them.

"What are we seeing?" Jonas demanded.

The woman apparition stood next to Jonas and smiled, "This is what has happened on your world..."

They watched the images of an old-looking Taylor kneeling and holding a woman's hand. The scene quickly changed to a pair of gloves striking their crewman on each cheek. Then the images changed once again with Taylor aiming a flintlock at the man. As if in slow motion, the pillar of light flashed in the distance and a man fell down to his knees and looked up.

The flintlock gun powder ignited, slowly burning like a fuse on the firing pin. Smoke rolled from the back of Taylor's gun and they saw a slow moving projectile exit the barrel of the gun. They fixed their gaze on his opponent. The gun powder fizzled failing to ignite. The slow moving ball struck the man in the chest. He flew backward, traveling in slow motion, his flintlock pistol flying from his hand and into the air and blood spewed from the wound.

They looked back at a screaming Taylor and then saw him double over with pain and vanish. One of the men knelt down to the fallen man, looking back he screamed inaudible words at Taylor, who vanished within the column of light.

The other Taylor stood to his feet. The remaining men in the field reached him. Shouting in slow motion, the other Taylor doubled over with pain, and he too vanished.

"What's going on? What are we seeing?"

"You are witnessing the events that have altered your planets history," the woman apparition explained.

"Who was this man Taylor shot?" Tipper demanded.

The male apparition turned to Tipper and smiled as he answered, "In your past this man lead an army of many victories. However, with his death, he led them not to victory and their rivals became the strong force in the world."

"This couldn't have been Napoleon, could it?" Tipper argued, "That's impossible, I know all about the French Revolution and he was not killed in a duel!"

The male apparition answered Tipper, "It has happened now; once Taylor Jorgensen traveled back to your world's past, his interaction with the people of that time changed events as they originally occurred. There are now two realties that are at war with one another."

"How can reality be at war with itself?" Simon asked.

The apparition held their hand up, "Allow us to scan your minds so we may build a complete record of what was, and what is..."

Jonas interrupted the apparition, "I thought you already did scan our minds. How else did you do those holographic mind tricks on Tipper and Simon?"

"You do not fully understand this technology..."

Tipper now interrupted, stepping toward the male looking apparition, "So, start explaining this to us!"

"Please do not be dismayed, we mean you no harm..."

"You have already done that!" Jonas shouted.

"Please do not be..."

"Fine, fine, I'll tone it down... but you have to answer our questions!"

"We need your permission to do a scan on each of you to build the complete record."

"Okay," Tipper said, "Scan away, already!"

"Does each of you concur?" The holographic computer asked.

The group nodded in unison.

"Very well, be not dismayed, we mean you no harm..."

"You're sounding like a broken record again," Jonas said, placing his hands on his hips.

"... this will only take a few moments. We assure you, there will be minimal discomfort. Do not be alarmed... we will initiate the mind scan..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jonas said, holding his hands in front of him, "Is this gonna hurt?"

"Do not be alarmed, we mean you no harm."

"That didn't answer his question," Tipper insisted, but before she could finish she winced with pain.

Laser beams shot out from the darkness of the pyramid structure and hit each of the remaining crewmen on their foreheads.

Jonas and Tipper grabbed their temples and shrieked, while Bo, Pippen, and Simon fell to their knees. They tried to move away from the beam, but it followed their every move. Writhing in pain, Simon fell to his back and began having a seizure, and then lost consciousness. Pippen grabbed for Bo's arm, the pain in their heads brought them both to the floor. Bo held Pip tight, trying to help her minimize what they were feeling.

Jonas and Tipper managed to stay on their feet, but collapsed down to one knee. Continuing to hold their temples, they looked into each other's eyes, each seeing a tear fall on each of their cheeks. Blood dripped from Jonas' nose and Tippers ears.

"When... this is... over..." Tipper struggled to say, "... I'm going to... kill you..."

"What... did I... do?"

"You wanted... to... go... inside... oh, its... going to be... alright... he says..."

Jonas and Tipper now on their hands, they held themselves up the best they could, enduring the experience. A few moments passed before the blue light ceased, easing the pain within their heads. The group passed out on the floor through the relief for a few seconds.

Pippen stood first and helped Bo off the floor. She reached for her scanner and passed it over Bo and herself, "I'm not detecting any permanent damage, but..."

Jonas wiped blood that dripped from his nose with the back of his sleeve, "But there was some damage, right Doc?"

"I'm detecting slight head trauma, but nothing more than that. Our headaches should dissipate fairly quickly."

Pippen only then noticed Simon on the floor, his ears and nose exuding blood, forming a pool under his head.

"Oh my god!" Pippen shrieked and then ran to his side. She passed her scanner over Simon's body as the rest gathered around.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Jonas asked.

"No, he's dead," Pippen said, closing her scanner she slowly stood, turned and placed her head into Bo's shoulder.

"There isn't anything you can do?" Tipper asked.

"No, I'm afraid not... he... he had an intracerebral hemorrhage..."

Jonas stood from inspecting the dead crewman lying on the floor and raised his hands into the air, "I thought you said it was harmless! I have a dead crewman, and it's all your fault! ... Whatever you are!"

"Be not dismayed," the curvaceous woman said in Jonas' ear.

Jonas cut the computer-generated image off, "... whattya mean be not dismayed! What in the hell happened to my man?!"

Tipper turned from the sight and planted her head on Jonas' shoulder.

"Your physician is accurate in her diagnosis. The one referred to as Simon Stone suffered from a brain bleed... this was something that we did not expect..."

"Never mind your mumbo jumbo, missy, can you fix him?" Jonas shouted, squeezing Tipper by the shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

"I am sorry, Jonas Arnell, the one you call Simon Stone cannot be repaired," the computer woman coldly answered.

Jonas pushed off of Tipper, closed his fist, and tried swinging at the apparition, but his fist passed through the image.

"I am sorry, Jonas Arnell, but you cannot physically interact with our programming."

"I see that!"

Jonas, Tipper, Bo, and Pippen once again found themselves standing within the circle of illumination and the bright pillar of light that traveled from the floor to ceiling.

"How the hell do you do that?" Jonas protested.

The male apparition walked over to Tipper and placed a holographic hand on her shoulder, "Let us explain the changes to your timeline."

Jonas came to Tipper's side and pulled her away from the female apparition, "Stay away from us!"

"Allow us to explain..."

"What good would that do?" Bo asked the sensuous woman apparition.

The apparition continued in each form that the crew saw, "... the first time the one called Taylor Jorgensen traveled back, the time chamber was not set for any programmed coordinates. He traveled to your world's past to a time that was present on his mind. His interactions changed the course of your history. This General you refer to as Napoleon Bonaparte was killed and never married Josephine. His death spelled ruin to your French Revolution. The Swedish country was not defeated which resulted in their becoming a strong force in your world. There are too many repercussions to explain. However, that event is the crux of where the timelines split off from one another."

"What other repercussions are there?" Tipper asked.

"In the current timeline, your world has expanded into the solar system as you have in your reality. However, the Planetary Alliance Coalition no longer is the strong force at your home, rather the Mars Consortium Operative."

"Hey, that's what you said on the recording," Tipper said.

"Tell us more," Jonas insisted, "What can we do now?"

"Your counterparts that arrived before tried to correct the timeline," the computer apparition continued, "After your Taylor changed the course of history, the remaining crew-members entered the time chamber. The programed coordinates were set for you to arrive prior to your launch. It was calculated that if you were able to stop yourselves from reaching our planet, your timeline would never have been altered..."

"That makes the most sense," Tipper nodded.

"Yes," Jonas said, pulling Tipper under his arm, "That's why we set the reactor to blow..."

"...in case we missed, that was the failsafe plan."

The computer generated apparition continued once more, "Then your Taylor traveled through the time chamber. We programmed the coordinates to follow the first Taylor. That is what you saw in our display of history."

"Can we go back to try to stop ourselves again?"

"Yes, once you arrive, you will know what you must do."

"Where are you sending us?"

"Moments before your ship slingshot around the planet you refer to as Jupiter."

"What will happen to us once we enter the time chamber?" Bo asked, "How do we know we were successful?"

"Yeah," Pippen added, "What happens to us?"

"The timelines will be restored and you will never leave the station. Napoleon Bonaparte will have not been killed and he will go on succeeding in repelling the Swedish and Finish armies."

"Looks like my ancestors will need to lose the war after all," Tipper said, looking up into Jonas' eyes, and then she pushed him away, "Hey, get your paws off!"

"Sorry, Tip, I thought you needed comforting in all this..."

"Yeah, well not from you... pa-lease!"

"What?"

"You know what, Skippy, just knock it off already!"

"Okay, okay, have it your way."

"If you will allow a few moments before the time chamber is prepared," the holographic image stated.

"How long will this take?" Jonas asked.

"Not long," the woman said, "There will be three Mars Consortium Marauder ships that you will occupy. Take over the flight controls and destroy your ship. You must prevent yourselves from leaving your solar system if you are to succeed in restoring your timeline."

"Fine," Jonas answered, "Bo and Pip, you two are together. Tipper and I can handle one ship each."

"Very well," the computer answered, "The final adjustments have been made. You can enter the time chamber when you are ready."

"Wait, one more question," Jonas said, raising his hand, "What happens to us if we're not successful?"

"The time chamber will eventually recall you. However, you may experience several time distortions similar to what the two Tailor's and your alternates have experienced."

"Experienced, as in past tense?" Bo asked.

"Yes, you are quite right Bo Richardson."

"Can you elaborate?" Tipper asked.

"Yes, past tense refers to the time that has already taken place. Those things that have happened in the past have already occurred."

"But we're going to experience them for the first time when we enter the chamber," Tipper stated.

"Again, Tipper Montgomery, you are quite correct. You have already done those things, but you will only now experience them for yourselves."

"So very confusing," Pippen said, holding her head.

"Well, nobody said this was easy," Bo smiled down on her.

"I'm just glad you're going to be with me."

"Okay, you two love birds knock it off already," Jonas said with a fake smile. "Let's go and get this over with."

Fifteen

Earth Year:

2516/03/12 - 16:15:37

Marauder Ships

Jonas and Tipper fell from a column of light that appeared within the target Ship. Taking the pilot and crew by surprise, they subdued them.

"Pull the co-pilot, Tipper, I'll get the pilot."

"This was way too easy, Skipper."

"Just lucky today, that's all."

"Here's to hoping the outcome is favorable," Tipper said, pulling the unconscious co-pilot from his seat.

Jonas laid the pilot in the aisle next to the co-pilot and climbed into the pilot seat and strapped down, "We'll take a drink later if we are."

"Right, not how I envisioned this mission ending, Jonas."

"Sterling," Jonas said over his Marauder ship's comm link, "Report."

"This is Sterling and Simon. We've taken control of our target Marauder. We'll meet you at the rendezvous in five minutes, over."

"Excellent," Jonas answered, winking to the right at Tipper who occupied the co-pilot seat, "Bo, report."

"This is Bo and Pippen reporting in, Skipper. We have our Marauder. We'll be at rendezvous coordinates in four minutes."

"Show off," Simon said over the comm link.

"Not showing anything off over here, Simon," Bo answered, cigar clinched at the corner of his mouth as usual, "Just a wee bit closer, that's all."

"Alright," Jonas interrupted, "Let's go over our plan once more, shall we?"

"You really think we need to do that?" Tipper asked.

"Nooooo," Jonas sarcastically responded.

Tipper hid her smirk as she sat to the right of Jonas and slowly shook her head, "Such a wise-ass, ain't ya."

"Well," Jonas began, glancing over at Tipper, "I could have a few colorful words for you too..."

"Ah, ah, ah... remember, you're pushing three over here."

"Right," Jonas turned forward and focused on flying the sleek Marauder.

"The plan, Jonas?" Tipper said again with a shake of her head.

"Oh, right, the plan... once the others meet up, we'll sync our FTL engines, plot a course to Jupiter Station and take ourselves out."

"You sure about this, Skipper?" Bo asked over the comm link.

"It appears to be the only way. We cannot allow Taylor to reach the time chamber. Our entire civilization depends on us stopping that from happening."

"...and that's why we set the core and placed it at the time we did as a backup," Tipper added.

"We must sacrifice ourselves or our planet will suffer extinction in twenty-five years."

"At least that's what the time chamber attendants said," Bo nodded, "But how can we be sure that the hologram we saw was accurate?"

"Because the attendants have nothing to lose by lying to us," Jonas answered.

"Thirty seconds and we'll be in visual range," Bo reported.

"Minute thirty for us," Sterling added.

"Okay, so if the attendants were right, and we stop ourselves from leaving," Tipper offered, "We will cease to exist. We'll vanish and the timeline will be restored."

"Yes, Tip," Jonas nodded, "and apparently instantaneously."

"And if we don't succeed," Sterling asked.

"We'll find ourselves back with the attendants," Jonas answered.

"Powerless to leave the chamber once again," Tipper once more added.

"Visual range," Bo reported, "I got ya, Skipper."

"Form up on our right at four-o'clock. Sterling, you form up on our eight."

"We're thirty seconds out now, Skip," Simon said over the radio, "Our eyes are wide open."

"Good deal, Sterling," Jonas praised.

"We're formed up on your four, Skipper," Bo reported.

"And we have visual," Sterling reported, "turning to form up on your eight."

"Arm weapon systems," Jonas ordered.

"Roger dodger, Skipper, all five missiles armed and ready."

"Missiles ready, Skip," Sterling reported, "And we're on your eight. FTL sync complete. We're ready over here."

"Navigation sync confirmed," Bo said, "Ready when you are, Skipper."

"Tipper," Jonas ordered, "Position report."

"We're just outside the scanning perimeter of Jupiter Station. Course is locked and transmitted. Ready for your word, Skipper."

"Take us in weapons range and fire missiles!"

"Aye-aye, Skipper. Changing course and in missile range in three... two... one... Target acquired and locked."

"Fire!"

16:23:17

Jupiter Station

Jonas and Tipper exited the turbo platform and dove through the ship's hatch. The weightlessness outside the station surprised the two. They grabbed the handholds, stopping themselves from colliding together and spun around.

"Seal this hatch!" Jonas ordered.

Tipper flew to the cover, unlatched the lock and pulled the lid shut to the station. Floating to a panel, she pressed the commands to seal the airlock hatch, while Jonas opened the inner door to their new ship.

"I studied the layout on my way in this morning," Tipper said, leading the way. "Follow me, Skipper."

Jonas followed Tipper as she floated ahead and forward to the flight deck. Hearing in his earpiece the sound of Clint's distressed voice, "You guys gonna leave anytime soon? Those missiles are bearing down!"

Tipper passed through to the flight deck, Jonas close behind, "Yeah, Clint! We've reached the flight deck. How much time we got?"

"Seven minutes and change!"

Jonas took the pilot seat and strapped in, binding his harness extra tight. Making eye contact with another middle-aged black man sporting a snuffed-out short cigar clenched with his teeth. The man saw Jonas' expression and went into action, "Name's Bo, Skipper. I'm pulling all umbilical cords now!"

"Nice to meet ya, Bo. Pull the docking clamps, let's get a movin'. Who's engineering? Somebody give me full power to thrusters... now!"

Tipper floated over to another station where she executed more commands, "Retracting docking clamps... we'll be free in ten seconds!"

"What's your name?" Jonas shouted to where Tipper was taking over control of another crew's station.

"Taylor, Taylor Jorgensen. Sorry, Skipper, no one told me that anyone would be firing at us!"

"Well they did," Tipper answered, patting his shoulder, "Get a grip, Taylor. Focus on your station, I'm gonna strap in."

"Come on, people!" Jonas protested, "Where's my thrusters?"

"They're on, but one clamp didn't release all the way," Taylor reported.

"Jonas," Tipper said, strapping into her seat, "Throttle back a sec!"

Jonas relaxed the control stick, and the crew heard the loud clank of metal striking the hull.

Tipper shouted with a smile, "We're free!"

"All I needed!" Jonas jammed the thruster control full forward, "Prepare for positive G-forces!"

The crew was shoved into their seats, their faces contorting from the massive power of the ship pulling away from Jupiter Station.

"Jonas?"

"Yeah, Clint, we're pullin' away now."

The ship's thrusters burned, leaving behind a space contrail as they moved from the docking port.

"Cuttin' it mighty close, Jonas. Missiles will be in range in two minutes."

"We're clear of the station, Clint, but what about you guys? We can circle around to help take those out..."

Another crewman interrupted, "Skipper, this is Sterling. Sir, those Marauders are back on our scope."

"Well, Sterling, what's their course?"

"They're heading on an intercept course, Skip."

"Jonas!" Clint shouted over his wireless, "You get the hell outta here, you understand me? They can't follow you once you accelerate to FTL."

"What about you, Clint?"

"I said don't worry about us or the Jupiter Station, we'll fair okay! I order you to accelerate to FTL... Now!"

"Jonas," Tipper said, glancing over, "Clint's right, we've got's ta' leave!"

"Who's navigation?"

"That would be me, Skipper; Simon Stone."

"Well, Stone, engage our slingshot course. Tipper; acceleration factor ten on those plasma engines."

16:32:08

Marauder Ships

"Bo and Pip, report!"

"Jonas, we're comin' in hot, we're chasing the Aevus, but there pulling out ahead."

"Tipper, how you doing in your ship?"

"My ship's fine, Jonas, and yours?"

"Seems we're chasing ourselves."

"Do you read the missiles in bound to the station?"

"Skipper, this is Tipper, I'm reading fifteen missiles inbound. Looks like the first us have fired their missiles."

"We know they don't take us out or we wouldn't be chasing ourselves now," Jonas said over his comm link.

"...and we know it was us chasing ourselves as we left for Gliese," Tipper added, skillfully flying her Marauder.

"And the frigate has arrived, the missiles will not take us out," Bo reported.

"I see it," Jonas said.

"They've begun their slingshot maneuver," Bo reported from his ship, "we might as well back off and try to return to the time chamber."

"Bo's right, Skipper," Tipper said, "We have to go back and find another solution to this problem."

"Okay, change course and move back out."

16:37:08

The Aevus

"Jupiter Station," Jonas called over the wireless, "What's your status?"

Several moments of silence occupied the crew, "Jupiter Station, come in!"

"Skipper, two missiles struck the station. Three more were taken out by outside support."

"Outside support?"

"Apparently a Navel frigate arrived."

"Good timing, Mars Consortium Operative... take out those PAC missiles! Alright, hold on everyone, firing up the plasma drive!" Tipper shouted.

Clenching their eyes tight, each of their chairs inserted three rows of two needles down their back, pumping their bodies with anti-acceleration drugs.

The ship's rear engines ignited pushing the craft on the preset course, "Acceleration factor ten," Tipper reported, holding the handles on the sides of her monitor screen. "Ten percent FTL... twenty... fifty... engaging slingshot maneuver... now!"

They flew their course, moving closer to the planet Jupiter, now three-hundred thousand kilometers in altitude they swung around the gas giant at half the speed of light.

"Jonas... Jonas, do you read? Over."

"Clint!" Jonas exclaimed. "I thought you bought it back there."

"We took major damage. One missile struck the docking port. The other took out a small section of the ring. We're estimating casualties at two-thousand. A Navy Frigate from MCO has arrived, but I see you've still got company on your tail."

"They won't catch us anymore, Clint," Tipper added, "We're already executing our slingshot."

"That means we'll be losing instant communications in a minute. You'll be going too fast even for the magnetic pulse relay."

"That, and the time dilation factor kicks in," Jonas said.

The crew heard the sound of metal pinging against the ship's hull, "Debris field!" Tipper shouted.

"Hang on everyone and hope one of those don't come through!" Jonas yelled.

"Sounds like you've got your hands full over there!"

"Just passing through your debris field is all, Clint, no biggie."

"Okay, you don't worry about Jupiter Station, Jonas. Your only concern now is reaching your destination and finding out the origin of that signal."

"Understood! This is... uh, this is, what's our ship's name again?"

Clint chuckled over the wireless, "We've been so rushed, guess we never gave her a designation. You name her, Skipper."

Jonas looked over at his crew and several shouts rang out, "Intrepid," "Lone Star," "Archimedes..."

"No," Jonas thought, "I think I'll name her the Aevus."

Tipper winked at Jonas, "Passage of Time? Really, Jonas?"

"I can't help thinking we'll be busy passing the time, so yeah, the Latin word for that is Aevus."

"Well," Clint said, continuing his chuckle, "you got it, Skipper. The Aevus it is. Good journey's Aevus, see ya on the flip side."

"Approaching slingshot cut-off point. Accelerating past light speed in twenty seconds."

"I wish you luck with the PAC."

"No worries, Jonas, we'll take care of the Planetary Alliance Coalition, you can bet on that; us and the MCO. We'll keep holding them back from advancing on any of our Stations."

Sixteen

FTL Year:

2518/10/12 - 18:42:46

Alien Pyramid

The black star-field pyramid glowed brightly as six exited the column of light. Jonas and Tipper arm and arm, Bo with Pippen, and Sterling accompanied Simon. The six stood in the circle of illumination when Jonas unwrapped Tipper's arm from his. He stepped forward, closer to the pillar of light, "Attendant," he called out, "Attendant, show yourself!"

A humanoid figure appeared within the column of light and stepped forward, "Yes, Jonas Arnell. Unfortunately, you were not successful in restoring the timeline."

"Yes, we know. The ship got off before our missiles struck. It's like they knew we were coming!"

"The Secretary of the Jupiter project warned the military ahead of time. That is how the frigate arrived at the precise time."

"Taylor!" Pippen exclaimed.

"Yes, Doctor Morgan, you are quite correct. Your Taylor has traveled the same corridor you have. He knew of the attack and the time it would occur. It appears he does not share the same view to changing the timeline back to the way it was."

"He knows he'll cease to exist," Tipper nodded, "He wants to continue living."

"And knowing we were going to wipe him out of the universe..."

"You mean all of us, Skipper," Bo added.

"Yes, all of us, taking our ship out to prevent ourselves from reaching this place would have removed us from the timeline."

"But we failed," Tipper frowned, "What does that mean now?"

The pyramid attendant smiled at Tipper and the crew before answering, "We did not calculate that you would fail. We are afraid that time has fractured, thus creating a paradox."

Sterling looked over to Pippen, "I'm not feeling real well, Doc."

The attendant answered Sterling before the doctor had a chance, "You are feeling the effects of the two timelines converging."

"Converging?" Jonas asked.

"I'm not feeling very well either," Simon said, holding himself up with his hands on his knees.

"What happened to the timeline when we failed to stop ourselves?"

"Your counterparts from another timeline arrived here a short time ago. They too traveled to attempt to stop your ship from leaving your star system."

Bo removed his tattered baseball cap and scratched the back of his head, "We failed, so another set of us went through?"

"They must have failed too," Tipper added, "We're still here."

"What happens when that other set of us returns to the time chamber?" Pippen asked. "That can't be good, is it?"

"You are quite right, Doctor Morgan. When the second set of yourselves returns to this chamber, they will be merged with you. They will know everything you know. However, due to the merging timelines, if your counterparts are not present in the alternate timeline, you will cease to exist; there will not be a counterpart for them to merge with."

"Like who?" Tipper begged.

"Yeah," Bo added as he stepped toward the attendant, "who doesn't make it?"

"The attendant is referring to Simon and I," Sterling said with a cold look about his face.

"How do you know?" Pippen nervously asked.

"I just do..."

"He's right, you know," Simon nodded. "We're not going to make it, are we?"

The attendant approached both Sterling and Simon and set a holographic hand on their shoulders, "We are truly sorry. We meant you no harm. You are quite correct."

"How much time we got?" Simon asked.

"Your alternates will arrive in less than two minutes."

"Isn't there anything we can do to save them?" Pippen said in horror, tears began welling up in her eyes.

"We are working on new calculations that will restore your previous timeline. But for now, there will not be enough time..."

Jonas cut off the holographic attendant, "... what if we jumped into the time teleporter?"

"There is not enough time to program new coordinates. Without coordinates, the recall subroutine will not be installed and you will have the same fate as Taylor."

"What about Taylor?"

"There are now two Taylor Jorgensen's that exist; one chasing after the other. We did not foresee this problem occurring when the first Taylor crossed over with no coordinates, thus there was no recall subroutine programmed."

"What's going to happen to them?" Tipper asked.

"The first Taylor did not have recall programming; he is traveling in and out of the corridor, landing at various time markers. The second Taylor does have a recall program. However, it will not activate unless he can stop the first."

"Stop him from what?" Jonas begged.

"Yeah," Tipper nodded, "It sounds like the damage has already been done."

"Your alternates know what has taken place, and you shall know once they exit the time corridor."

"What happens if the second Taylor is unable to stop the first?"

"There will be cataclysmic time paradox which will ultimately destroy your world. If the two should merge, the current timeline will be unalterable. The time paradox that would occur would reverberate backward through the time corridor and could destroy the entire universe."

The dark star-covered black pyramid illuminated in brilliance, the column of light flickered and pulsed as the travelers exited the time chamber. Sterling and Simon vanished, and the two sets of humans merged.

"Well, that was fun," Jonas said, shaking his head.

Tipper fell to her knees as her counterpart merged, and Jonas offered her a hand which she quickly accepted and returned to her feet.

Bo and Pippen held each other in their arms as their two counterparts merged, Bo bracing Pippen from the shock to her body.

"Everyone okay?" Pippen asked. Removing herself from Bo's grip, she pulled out her medical scanner.

Passing it over each of them, "We all seem to be fine, do you all know what happened just now?"

"I think we all know," Tipper said. "We just merged with our second set of counterparts."

"Yeah, yeah, that was strange," Bo said, pulling out a lighter he flicked it a couple of times before getting a flame to ignite his stogie.

"You never lite those things, Bo," Pippen asked, "What gives?"

"Never say never, Missy," Bo answered. He drew in and then blew out a plume of smoke into the air, "I'm just needing somethin' to calm my nerves, that's all."

"Don't blame ya' one bit," Jonas said.

Tipper regained her composure, "Attendant?" Tipper asked, "Can you tell us what just happened? One minute we're working for the PAC and the next we're all wearing MCO uniforms?"

The holographic image appeared to them in the form present within their minds, "It is due to the merging timelines. One set of conditions has won over the other."

"So, what?" Bo asked, "We're in the MCO's military now?"

"Yes, Bo Richardson, that is quite correct."

"...and I'm feeling like the Mars Consortium Operative is now oppressing the Planetary Alliance Coalition."

"Again," the Attendant answered, "you are quite correct. Due to the actions of Taylor Jorgensen fracturing your timeline, the MCO is now the controlling force in your star system."

"Can we leave this pyramid?" Jonas asked.

"You have not completed restoring your timeline. You will not be able to leave the time chamber in the way you came."

"So we're prisoners?" Tipper exclaimed.

"You are not able to leave the time chamber the way you came."

"But if we can't leave, then how is it our first counterparts were able to go back to the ship and leave ourselves a message?" Tipper reasoned.

"We are sorry, we mean you no harm. However, certain aspects of your memories will restore in time. You were able to leave the message for your counterparts by traveling through the time chamber."

"Ah," Jonas said, his eyes widened, "So we can travel through this time chamber? You know, make more trips?"

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, you are quite correct."

"Then send us back so maybe we can update our message. Maybe change some aspect and try going back to stop ourselves again?"

"I am sorry, Jonas Arnell. You are not able to go back to a time you already were sent back to. Nor can you go back and encounter any other counterpart of yourselves."

"How is it that Taylor is going back to a place he already visited?"

"We are sorry, Jonas Arnell, we mean you no harm. However, the second Taylor was sent on a mission to stop himself."

"What's the difference?" Tipper asked.

"It is not the same Taylor that traveled to an identical time marker."

"Hey," Bo shouted, "We have to eat sometimes. How we gonna do that if we can't leave or go back to our ship?"

"We are sorry, we mean you no harm. We will keep you and sustain you."

"You're gonna' feed us?"

"Yes, Bo Richardson, you are quite correct. We shall program the halo-chamber to accommodate your every need."

"Like you did with seeing our animals?" Tipper asked.

"Similar, yes Tipper Montgomery, you are quite correct."

"But those weren't real!"

"Be not dismayed, Tipper Montgomery, we mean you no harm..."

"Well, it's a tad late for that now isn't it!?"

"How long are you gonna' keep us here, anyway?" Bo protested.

"You will have to remain within the time chamber until this fractured timeline is successfully restored."

"Are we talkin' years?"

"Be not dismayed, Bo Richardson, as long as you remain within the time chamber, you will not age. Your sustenance will be provided to you. If you require a visual representation of the biological function you refer to as eating, we will provide you with that visual as well."

"Whatever I wish for, I'll get it? That 'bout sum it up?"

"Yes, we shall provide you with whatever you think."

"I want a large double burger from the Burger Barn, tons of mayo, pickles, and some of that special sauce too."

Tipper shook her head at Bo in disgust, "always thinking with his stomach."

The table appeared out of nowhere, and the room change for everyone to witness. Bo fixed his eyes on the wooden bench that appeared, complete with a beverage and French fries. The smell of freshly grilled meat permeated each of their noses.

"Papa's a happy man today!" Bo said, salivating his lips with his tongue, he picked up the hamburger, opened his mouth wide and chomped a huge bite. Munching the food, his cheeks puckering, "Oh baby! This is sooo, good!"

"Gross," Tipper said, turning away from the sight.

"And you can program us anything to eat?" Pippen asked.

"Yes, Doctor Morgan, you are quite correct."

"How about a sizzling New York Steak, medium rare?"

She gazed at the table. She saw an elegant looking place setting, complete with the requested steak dinner with a side of steamed vegetables and a glass of red wine.

Pippen sat at the table and grabbed the fork and knife. She cut into the succulent steak and chewed slowly, savoring the heavenly flavor. "Oh my god! It tastes so real; the flavors are out of this world!"

"Relax, Doc," Tipper said, "It is out of this world, and it's not real either. Attendant, you expect us to believe that by eating this holographically generated food, that's going to sustain us?"

"You misunderstand our technology, Tipper Montgomery, the visual reference is only for your benefit. However, your sustenance is being supplied through the air you are breathing. All the nutrients your biological bodies require will be provided."

"I think the Attendant is right," Jonas nodded, "I haven't been hungry since we entered this complex."

"You are quite correct, Jonas Arnell," the Attendant answered. "However, when you are traveling outside the corridor and arrive at your programmed time marker, you will be required to consume sustenance until you are recalled to the time chamber."

"So what's our next step?" Jonas asked.

"I will have your next mission parameters programmed in a few hours. It will take some time to analyze what has changed and to calculate a way to correct the event."

"Great, just great," Bo smiled.

"What are you so happy about?" Pippen asked.

"Now that I'm stuffed, I need to take a snooze."

"That's not a bad idea, everyone," Jonas nodded. "I think we should all get some rest."

The Attendant turned and walked toward the column of light, "Very well, I will contact you again when we are ready to send you through to your next time marker."

Seventeen

FTL Year:

2518/10/13 - 06:32:15

Time Chamber

Bo stood at the base of the light pillar having an animated conversation with the computer Attendant. Jonas walked from where he thought was his quarters aboard the Aevus, but soon remembered the vision of his surroundings were manufactured by the Attendant to make them feel comfortable.

"Bo," Jonas called out as he approached the center illumination. "You're up early. What's going on?"

Bo glanced over his shoulder to Jonas, "Nothin' to be concerned about, Boss."

"It is my concern. Remember? I'm still the Skipper."

"Sorry, Skipper, not this time."

Tipper appeared from the darkness of the pyramid rubbing her eyes, "Hey, what's all the commotion?"

"Bo was just about to explain that, wasn't he?"

"Sorry Skipper, but I have to do this."

Jonas stopped cold, placed his hands on his hips, "Do what, Bo? What are you going to do?"

"I've got a plan, Skip. Trust me..."

"Now, wait just a minute..."

"...on this one. I can fix this problem."

Jonas picked up his pace toward Bo while Tipper bolted in a full run.

"It's too late, Skipper, you can't stop me, isn't that right, Attendant? It's too late, right?"

Jonas and Tipper both collided with the outer perimeter of illumination and bounced two steps backward.

The Attendant faced both Jonas and Tipper from inside the illumination, "You are quite right, Bo Richardson. The final recall programming has been input and the time chamber is fully activated. No one else has been programmed to enter the time portal, so the others cannot cross into the corridor... we mean you no harm; this is a built in safety feature of the time portal."

"Bo, No! Don't do this!" Tipper protested.

Pippen ran to Jonas and Tipper, "Bo? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, Pip, I have to do this. Understand, I can't remain here for the rest of my life trying to figure out if we can fix time or not. It's time to take action."

"I order you to stop this!" Jonas shouted.

"I am sorry, Jonas Arnell, we mean you no harm. Bo Richardson approached us with a plan last night. After a full analysis of all factors in consideration, we have concluded that this plan will have an eighty-three percent chance of success in restoring your timeline."

"Bo, don't do this!" Pippen pleaded, "You promised to keep me safe..."

Bo turned to Pippen, "Don't worry about a thing. I'll be back in a flash, trust me."

Bo turned to the Attendant and nodded, "Okay, we ready then?"

"Yes, Bo Richardson, the time portal is activated," the Attendant said as the pillar of light sparkled with stars and illumination.

"Why are you doing this, Bo?" Jonas again protested. "You were so passive before, why the sudden change of heart?"

"Don't know, Skipper, but I know I have to do this. Maybe it's the changes we've experienced? Maybe because we're now from the MCO, maybe somehow these timeline changes made us more aggressive. I don't know."

Bo turned once more to Pip and blew her a kiss, "I promise I will be right back. It'll be like I never left, really."

Facing the pillar of light, Jonas, Tipper, and Pippen begged Bo not to go. Their cries fell on deaf ears as Bo jumped into the light and vanished from them.

The pillar of light glowed with the star patterns and then returned to normal illumination as the light consumed Bo.

Earth Year:

1795/10/16 - 06:30:52

Paris France

Bo stepped through the light pillar, exiting to a field on Earth. Shaking his head from the time chamber effects, he looked to his right and then left. He saw Taylor off in the distance walking away from another man. The two appeared to be loading their weapons.

"No!" he shouted out of frustration and then bolted in a full run toward the man he assumed would be Napoleon. In the distance, he heard the sound of gun powder igniting as he dove in the air at the man, screaming in panic.

Taylor's flintlock ignited sending the round ball at his opponent. His jaw dropped as his gun fired and seeing Bo flying toward Napoleon, he then doubled over with pain and vanished.

Bo wrapped his arms around Napoleon. Taylor's slug pierced Bo's side spraying blood out from the wound. Bo's tackle sent them to the ground in what felt like slow motion. He landed on top of Napoleon and grabbed at the entry site crying out in pain. Napoleon pushed the man off of him and scrambled back to his feet. He turned to address the man that would dare interrupt his duel and saw no one. He looked down the field where his opponent should be and saw no one. Scanning to his left, he saw a man that appeared to be a younger Taylor, but before anyone could approach him, he vanished.

FTL Year:

2518/10/13 - 06:35:00

Time Chamber

The pillar of light glowed with the star patterns and then returned to normal illumination as Bo stepped out of the light that momentarily consumed him. He fell to his knees and looked up at a bewildered Pippen. Holding his side, blood oozed from the wound, interlacing between each of his fingers. He coughed pink foam and then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell the rest of the way to the floor in a heap.

"Bo!" Pippen screamed, "He's been shot!"

She rolled him over, examined him, and then remembered the scanner strapped to her thigh. She grabbed the device, opened it, and passed it over his body.

"What happened?" Tipper exclaimed, "He only left a few seconds ago!"

"I have no idea," Jonas answered, "but it must be that the time chamber was set to recall him in a few seconds from when he left. There's no telling how long he's been in that other time."

"This ain't no good!" Pippen exclaimed, "There's a round in him still. It's punctured his left lung. It's called pneumothorax from a collapsed lung. He needs surgery."

"Look around, Doc..."

Pippen focused on her patient, "If we don't re-inflate his lung, get that slug out, and perform a thoracoscopy treatment, he'll die! If we can't leave here..."

"...Doc!" Jonas interrupted.

"...Skipper, there is no time..."

"If you look up, Doctor!" Tipper insisted.

Pip glanced up for a moment and then back to her patient and then shot a stare at another illuminated area of the star-covered pyramid. In the center of the new lit area she saw a Hospital style operating room appear.

"Looks like the Attendants are providing just what you need," Jonas said.

"Come on," Pippen urged, "Help me get him to the table," but before they could reach Bo, he vanished and reappeared on the table.

"What the hell just happened?" Pippen exclaimed as she stood to her feet, "Follow me!"

Pippen ran with a quick gate toward Bo, but was stopped at the edge of the new illuminated area.

"You gotta let me in!" Pippen pleaded to the Attendants. "Please! He will die!"

Another beam of light shot from the floor underneath Bo and passed through the medical table and the unconscious man. Glittering stars sparkled all over Bo's body, enveloping him like a cocoon.

Pippen fell to her knees and wept, "Oh Bo, what did you do?" she whispered.

Tipper placed her hand on the Doctor's shoulder, "It will be alright. They won't let him die."

The Attendant appeared inside the illumination and smiled down at the crying Pippen, "Be not dismayed... we mean you no harm... we will do everything we can to prevent Bo Richardson from dying."

Pippen looked up at the Attendant through her tears, "I'm a doctor. I can operate and save him!"

"Be not dismayed, Doctor Morgan, we mean you no harm. We have studied your medicines and have concluded your evasive procedures will cause more damage to his body."

"He's been shot! Can you remove the bullet and re-inflate his lung?"

"Be not dismayed, Doctor Morgan, we mean you no harm. We are dissolving the foreign material and have stopped his internal bleeding. His air sac will inflate shortly. In the meantime, he has been placed in what you would refer to as suspended animation until he recovers from his injuries."

Pip slowly rose to her feet, drying her eyes with her sleeve, "He won't die?"

"That determination has not been reached, Doctor Morgan. We are doing everything possible to save the carbon-based life form you refer to as Bo Richardson."

Tipper examined her flight jacket, and pointed to her emblem, "Well, it would seem Bo was unsuccessful. My insignia still shows MCO."

"Mine too," Jonas nodded.

"Attendant, can you tell us what happened?"

The Attendant turned to Jonas, "We are continuing to compile the data. We'll have that answer soon."

"What's taking so long, anyway?" Jonas shrugged, "I thought you were this super computer?"

"The accidental shooting of Bo Richardson has taken priority resources."

"Just save him," Pippen exclaimed, "We can wait to hear what happened. Bo comes first!"

"Be not dismayed, we mean you no harm. Our programming is fully capable of multitasking. You will have your answers to your questions shortly. We are bringing more power online from other star chambers...one moment, please."

Bo's body continued to glow and sparkle from the star-light projecting through him. His eyes closed, he labored in his breathing.

"Is he going to make it?" Pippen asked, "It looks like he's still having a hard time breathing."

"Be not dismayed, Doctor Morgan, we mean you no harm..."

"Stop repeating yourself already," Jonas argued, "We get that. Is he going to live?"

"All probabilities we calculate show this carbon-based life form will survive these injuries."

"Pippen," Jonas said, turning to the distraught Doctor, "Be not dismayed, Doctor, I think he's gonna be okay."

Pippen slapped his arm, "Thanks, Skipper. Much appreciated."

"Anything I can do to help."

The Attendant addressed Jonas, "We have this situation under control and do not require your help in this matter."

Jonas rolled his eyes and faced the Attendant, "That was humor, oh, never mind."

"Very well," the Attendant responded.

"How long before he can be awakened?" Tipper asked.

"Dissolving the lead projectile from the ancient flintlock weapon that Taylor Jorgensen fired will take approximately another thirty of your minutes. However, he will need considerable time to recover from his injuries."

"How much time?" Jonas begged.

"He should remain in suspension for two of your days."

"Two days?"

"How soon could he be brought out?" Pippen asked.

"Six of your hours, but he should remain within the beam for twelve."

"Okay, let's wake him in two hours," Pippen said, "Can I be by his side?"

"No, I am afraid you will not be allowed with him until he can be released."

"Why?"

"Within the light are the healing particles of our star's energy. You should not be exposed to this material."

"You mean this same stuff we pass through in the time chamber is harmful?"

"Be not..."

"...I know, I know," Jonas said with his hands in the air, "Dismayed, right! Is this stuff harmful to us?"

"That is a very complex question, Jonas Arnell."

"Well, it either is, or it isn't, right?"

"That is a very complex question, and one that would take a millennium to properly understand the complete answer to your inquiry."

"Well, I really don't have that much time."

"This is a time portal facility, Jonas Arnell; you have all the time you need."

"Nice..." Jonas sighed, "How about the short version?"

"Long term exposure to the beam can damage carbon-based life forms. Short bursts are not harmful and will not cause tissue damage."

"Okay, have you finished analyzing the data yet?"

"In a few moments we will present to you our findings."

Eighteen

Earth Year:

2514/04/25 - 19:32:52

Earth

"Jonas!" Tipper shouted, "We will be late, and I don't think this is one time you want to be late, know what I mean?"

"Ah, Tip, don't worry. We'll be on time. We've already been there and done that."

"And about to do it again, if I'm not mistaken," Tipper said pointing a finger in his face.

Jonas backed away from her finger, "Remind yourself when you get to Tie Chang's, not to eat the sushi. And you might want to put that thing away that's a dangerous weapon."

"It's my finger, and you don't have to remind me. I was sick for three weeks. Remember? I almost aspirated in my suit when we left for Mars Station."

"You never let me forget that."

"I try to keep you remembering those fun times."

"Yeah, well, you know, those were fun times, fun times indeed."

"If memory serves, this was our last night on Earth before leaving for our Mars trip, isn't that what we were doing?"

"Yep, our last glorious night on Earth in our own gravity. We met at Tie Chang's for sushi and Saki shots."

"One thing led to another..."

"...almost missing our transport."

Tipper giggled, "Yeah, I have to admit, you looked pretty silly running to stop the tram from leaving without us."

"We made it though."

"Well, let's go. If we miss merging with ourselves in this timeline, we won't be swayed against taking the Jupiter Station mission."

A beam of light flashed behind the two as they turned to exit their room. Jonas and Tipper froze in their tracks. They slowly turned to see Bo standing in the room, slightly slouching and holding his side. Blood oozed from his side. He shook his head sluffing off the time chamber effect from his head.

"Bo!" Tipper exclaimed, "How... what??"

Jonas stretched his hands out toward the wounded Bo, "I understand now. You didn't return to the time chamber right away, did you?"

"Jonas, you must listen to me," Bo struggled to say. "It's a long story, and I don't have a lot of time..."

"Funny," Jonas said, looking down for a moment, "I remember that being said the last time we were in the time chamber."

Jonas and Tipper were taken off-guard when Bo suddenly charged them. Holding a silver disk in the palm of each hand, he slapped the devices on their necks, and then fell to the floor.

Jonas reached for the silver disk on his neck but soon discovered they dissolved into their skin.

"What've you done, Bo?"

"It... was all part of... the plan..."

"Help him to his feet, Jonas."

The two helped the wounded Bo from the ground and steadied him.

Bo winced with pain as the single slug in his chest worked on tearing a hole in his lung, "It was... part of my... mission... the Attendant sent... me on. Yeah... it was my... plan to try to... stop Napoleon from... being killed... by Taylor... somehow... the Attendant knew you... Tipper... and Pip would, in the... future, ask them... to send you to... this time... without recall. How long?"

"How long?"

"He means, how long have we been here?"

"Why's that important?"

"Three years," Tipper answered. "We wanted to stop it all. Living the rest of our existence trying to fix the timeline... it was too much for us to deal with."

"Especially since you're in a coma and the Attendant did not understand why," Jonas added.

"So yeah," Tipper finished, "we tried to live our lives out in this timeline."

"And when we knew the day would come, we would merge with our doubles here..."

"...and with our combined knowledge, we would know that we would never have found the time chamber..."

"...ever," Tipper sternly nodded.

"I'm in a coma? Where's my Pip? She did... come with you... right?" Bo again struggled to say.

"She died in a car accident last year," Tipper said, lowering her head.

Bo buckled at his knees. Jonas and Tipper continued to hold him up, "My Pip? She's dead?"

"I'm sorry, Bo," Tipper attempted to console her friend.

"No... Not my Pip! Ahhh, my mission... my mission... is completed now... the recall... I feel the recall... it's coming..."

"What about us, Bo?" Jonas asked, "What happens to us now?"

"Your recall... programming is what... I needed to... deliver... even though... you haven't... traveled here in my... timeline yet, you will... and now will... be recalled... to when you left..."

"So the Attendant will not allow ourselves from being merged."

"The Attendants cannot allow that... so many paradoxes... too much damage... would ensue... impossible to tell you... tell you all... I'm now... I'm now being... recalled..."

Bo vanished within a beam of light that enveloped him, leaving Jonas and Tipper standing, once again, alone in the room.

They faced one another and embraced, "Well," Jonas said, "it was wonderful while it lasted."

"We knew the Attendant would find us, Jonas."

"I know, but at least we had this time."

"We sure did, didn't we?"

Tipper wrapped her arm around Jonas' neck and embraced him tightly. She looked into his eyes and nodded, "You feel it?"

"Yeah, the recall is nearing."

The two gently touched each other's lips and kissed before they were recalled to the black star-covered pyramid.

FTL Year:

2518/11/16 - 11:15:35

Time Chamber

"Come on, Attendant," Pippen protested, "It's been over a month and Bo's still in a coma. What's going on? Why can't you fix him?"

"We do not understand why Bo has failed to awaken from his last trip through the time chamber."

"Well," Jonas added, "Maybe he don't want ta' wake up. Maybe he's had enough. Like the rest of us. Did you ever think of that?"

"Yes, we have run all calculations and the solution to this issue continues to evade us."

"You told us he stopped Taylor from killing Napoleon, so why are we still in the MCO and not the PAC? If Napoleon lived to become emperor of France, then what's still wrong?"

"He's right, Attendant," Tipper agreed, "If that event in our history was restored, then what went wrong?"

"The event that took place originally in your timeline, Taylor was not present. In the fractured timeline, he was. The second instance of Taylor's arrival to stop himself from killing Napoleon failed. In the third fracture of your timeline, Bo saves the General. However, I must remind you that the first and second Taylor Jorgensen and in the third iteration, Bo Richardson's appearance changed the minds of those who were present. These appearances further had an effect on each of their decisions. The stories they told others splintered the timeline further and further from your own. The result is not a promising outcome, we assure you. This is why we insist that you remain here. We have promised that your carbon-based life forms will not age within the time chamber matrix."

"Somehow," Tipper said, "Eternal life within this artificial environment is not very appealing to our kind."

"No, it's not," Jonas agreed, "We require freedom and freewill."

"Your species is unusual. However, there are alternative solutions."

"Such as?" Tipper asked.

"You have the time chamber at your disposal. We can send you to any place in your timeline as long as you do not interact with yourselves."

"What about further timeline degradation from our own?" Jonas asked.

"Further timeline degradation will be erased once you are sent on your restoration mission."

"Wait a minute!" Pippen protested, "I'm not going anywhere without Bo!"

"Nobody's going anywhere," Jonas said with pointed finger, "at least not just yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tipper probed.

"Exactly what it sounds like; I would entertain leaving this place given the right circumstances."

"...and those circumstances would be?" Pippen inquired this time.

"Assurances."

"What assurances would you request, Jonas Arnell?" The Attendant asked.

"Assurances that Bo would be cared for until such time he can come out of that coma. Assurances you won't program the recall subroutines... and we pick when you send us."

"We do not recommend teleporting without the recall subroutine..."

Jonas interrupted the Attendant, "But you can eliminate the subroutine, right?"

"...yes..."

"...I mean the first Taylor went through without one. So, we should be able to."

"You are quite correct, Jonas Arnell," the Attendant answered, "You can teleport through the chamber with no cause for harm to yourselves. However, we advise against using this teleport method."

"...and you would care for Bo?" Pippen asked, "That has to be part of the deal," she turned to Jonas and Tipper, "I gotta tell ya', either way doesn't appeal to me. I go with you guys, or I stay here with Bo. At least coming with you, I can apply my medical skills to help others."

"We will take care of Bo Richardson. However, if he awakens, there is only a forty-three percent chance he will find you in your timeline."

"Excuse us a moment," Tipper said, holding her index finger toward the Attendant, "I need to have a word with my associates."

"Take as much time as you require, Tipper Montgomery."

Tipper and Jonas stepped away from the Attendant, she waved at Pippen to join them, "Come on, Doc, you too."

"I don't know why you're bothering with trying to seclude us," Jonas said, "They can read our thoughts, Tip, remember?"

"I know, I know, but I still like it better this way."

Standing some distance from the illumination, "Okay, so what's up, Tip?"

"You really thinkin' of teleporting somewhere? What's your angle, Jonas?"

Jonas formed a huddle around Tipper and Pippen, "Here's my plan. We teleport three years before we leave for Mars. The night we were at the sushi bar, we go find ourselves and merge. Without recall, we can remain in that time."

"...and with the added memories of this experience, we never go to Jupiter Station?" Tipper added.

"Right," Jonas whispered.

"That might just work, Jonas."

"As long as you guys are going, I'll go with you."

"I know Bo will be taken care of," Tipper assured.

"Do you really think the Attendant will be good on their word on the recall subroutine?"

"Yes, I think they have to do what we ask. That's their function."

"Why this time, Jonas?"

"It was the best of times..."

"Oh come on, it was the worst of times... especially the sushi."

"That won't be for a couple of years, Tip, and I promise to stop you from eating sushi this time."

"Okay, I have to admit, it was some of the best fun we ever had."

"I'm in," Pippen nodded.

"Okay, then it's all set," Jonas said, standing straight up, "Let's go tell the Attendant our solution."

"I think the attendant already knows our decision," Pippen said, pointing at the glowing illumination across the way.

"Attendant," Jonas shouted, "Did you get all that?"

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, we are programming the time chamber per your instructions. However, we encourage you to have us add the recall programming."

"No, no recall, we're staying in that time."

"And if you truly can read our thoughts," Tipper smiled, "You already know that is what we desire."

"And I have a feeling," Jonas added, "that you are bound to provide us with our wishes."

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, you are quite correct. We will finish the programming shortly. Do all of you that are going concur on the absence of the recall feature?"

Pippen, Tipper and Jonas all nodded simultaneously.

"Very well, the programming is complete. You are free to go through the time chamber when you are ready. Your time index is set to Earth year March fourth, twenty-five eleven at nineteen hundred hours, thirty minutes. It will be advisable to use alternate identification and remember you must never come in contact with your doubles."

"Can you remind us what will happen if we do?" Pippen asked.

"The result will be devastation on a massive scale. It could cause irreparable damage to your timeline. The two will merge as they did within the time chamber. Merging of two bodies in the same time index can only be accomplished within the time chamber."

The bright glimmering stars of the light beam shown on the three as Jonas took Tipper's hand, and she taking Pippen's, "Then we must stay away from ourselves."

"Fortunately, the space-time continuum has a way of self-correcting. This is the reason the two Taylor's have been unsuccessful in joining."

The three nodded their acknowledgment and jumped with Jonas through the pillar of starlight.

Nineteen

Earth Year:

2491/07/23 - 09:32:08

Somewhere near Ohio

"Taylor?" Carlyle Burns exclaimed from across the street. The morning sunlight shown through in single beams through the white puffy clouds. "Taylor Simon, ain't it?"

"Carlyle?"

"Yep, thas' me." Carlyle waited for two passing cars and then ran across the street. "Wha' happened ta' ya', what's it been, two or three years now? You still owe me some Southern Comfort."

"Sorry about that, Carlyle. It's a long story."

"Come ta' think of it, that store owner made me pay fur the one you dropped, so thas' two ya' owe me."

"I'll pay ya' back; I promise..."

"Yeah, well ya' start'in ta' sound like another Taylor," Carlyle said with one eye squinting toward Taylor.

"Trust me, I'm nothing like the other Taylor you know."

"How can I be sure of that, mista? Actions speak louder than words do."

"I'm still looking for him. I, ah, I never had the chance to travel to his office."

"Well, ya' in luck mista."

"Why you say that?"

"I shouldn't tell ya'. Not until ya' all square with me, an all."

"He's in town, isn't he?"

"Yep, you gonna pay me back?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing."

Carlyle held his palm out toward Taylor.

"You take me to where I can find him and I'll double it."

Carlyle poked Taylor with his fingers in his ribs. Holding his palm higher, "Pay me what you owe me first, then I'll take ya' to see that good fur nothin' trader."

"Trust me, Carlyle."

"You've don' nothin' to make me want ta' trust ya'..."

"You want to get even with what he did to you, don't you?"

"What yer' fixin' ta' do," Carlyle asked, lowering one eye brow and intently looking to Taylor with his eyes.

Taylor leaned down to Carlyle's height, "I'm going to kill him..."

"Kill?!" Carlyle shouted.

Taylor covered Carlyle's mouth and pulled him over to the alley, "Keep it down, man!"

Carlyle quickly nodded and Taylor removed his hand from his mouth, "Yer gonna kill him?"

"If there's enough time, yes... I have to."

"Jeez, mista, what he do ta' ya'? Must've been purty bad ta' wanna kill him."

"Will you take me to see him?"

"I'll tell ya' where ya' kin find em', but I ain't stickin' around, if ya' know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah, no problem."

Carlyle looked to his left, then to his right. Pulling out a pistol from his jacket, he handed it to Taylor, "Here, take this phase pistol," he whispered, "no bullets... nice and clean. Not even traceable."

Taylor took the weapon and concealed it in his jacket, "Thanks, I do owe you, big time."

"Just rememba' who helped ya'"

"Right," Taylor looked over his shoulder and then back to Carlyle, "I will make it up to you. Just don't get upset if you don't see me for a while."

"Yeah, well after ya' do the deed, you should disappear for a spell, thas' fur sure."

"Okay," Carlyle whispered, "he's inspecting the factory later this afternoon. Outside the fenced area. Seems there's been some break-ins and he's ensurin' they fixed them there things... Thas' the best I kin do fur ya'."

14:10:16

"Taylor!" a man shouted from small distance, "You son of a bitch!"

Taylor turned to see who was rudely interrupting his meeting with his sight lead. His jaw dropped when he recognized the man that was now running toward him.

"You gots ta' get outta here!"

"Carlyle?"

"I know ya' done me wrong," Carlyle panted and came to a rest next to Taylor, "There's a crazy man after ya'!"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a man... he's goin' ta' try n' kill ya'! You gots' to get out of here!"

Taylor and his lead looked all around trying to spot any suspicious people lurking about. They saw no one.

"Come on, now! Don't dally!"

Another shout was heard, this time it sounded closer and it was a familiar voice to Taylor; it was the sound of his own voice. He turned to face a man on the opposite side of the fence, "Taylor!"

"It's you!"

"No, it's you..." the second Taylor doubled over in pain. He looked over to Carlyle, "You! You ruined everything!"

"I cannot let you do this..."

"You don't even know what you've done!"

"Ya' I saved this man from you. The authorities are comin' to pick you up."

"I'm afraid not."

Taylor held the phase pistol. Aiming it at the first Taylor, the second Taylor vanished before he could squeeze the trigger.

"You saved my life!"

"Well, maybe I shouldn't have after all."

The authorities arrived at the scene and arrested Carlyle, "It wasn't me, you fools!"

"Yes," Taylor answered, "It was Carlyle. He's the one that tried to kill me. Take him away."

"No, wait! You gots' ta' believe me! It was... his name... his name was Taylor... Taylor Simon!"

"Yeah, yeah, buddy," one officer smirked, "Sure it was..."

"No, it was!"

"We checked our database, friend. We found no one by that name."

"You gots' ta' believe me. Taylor! Tell him!"

"Take him away, I don't know him."

"Come on, this way," the officer carried Carlyle off as he resisted their grip.

Earth Year:

2501/09/10 - 22:47:54

Somewhere near Ohio

A flash of light deposited Taylor on the same street he had first arrived. The rain beat heavy on the streets making a thundering noise.

Carlyle sat in a diner. Picking his teeth with a toothpick, he looked up and noticed the flash of light, "I cannot believe this storm."

He looked away at another patron, "It's now lightning out there."

He turned back toward the window and saw Taylor stumbled through the column of light, "No way! This cannot be so!"

Carlyle scooted from the window seat, pulling the table cloth part way with him. His silverware and plate rattled as they settled back to the table top. He stormed from the diner and ran to the man in the pouring rain.

He grabbed Taylor by the sleeve and spun him around, "You! I cannot believe you would show yourself here again!"

"What happened? What year is this?"

"It's been ten years! And you're lucky I don't put ya' down right here!"

"What happened when I left?"

"What happened? I cannot believe you would even ask me that, you good fur nothin'..."

"Tell me!"

"You... it was you all the time, wasn't it?"

"It was ten years? It was only a few seconds for me!"

"Oh, I see, you're gonna pull that time travel crap on me again, 'eh?"

"Why did you stop me? Why did you warn Taylor? You don't realize you destroyed my only chance to save the universe, you fool!"

"Yeah, well, I spent two years after you vanished in the poky, thanks ta' you."

"Me? I did nothing but try to save the universe!"

"I know it was another you, but it was you just the same!"

"How did you finally discover we're the same?"

"Maybe because you vanished inta' thin air... that, and the arresting officers said they neva' heard of any Taylor Simon, that's why..."

"Arrested?"

"Yeah, your other self said I was the perpetrator. I was convicted in three days and spent two years behind bars... been hard to get work after ya' a felon, ya know. Especially in this day'n age."

"I'm sorry about that Carlyle," Taylor tried to explain, the rain flowing down his head and back. Taylor grabbed Carlyle by his coat lapels. Turning to the wall, and shoved the short man against the bricks.

"You gave me the weapon..." Taylor shoved him against the wall once more, sending his point home, "... the place..."

One more time slamming him against the bricks, "... the time! And you had to warn him, didn't you! You had to stop me..."

"Let go of me!" Carlyle protested, fighting against Taylor's strength.

Taylor slammed him one last time into the brick wall before letting go of his death grip, "Let's get out of this rain!"

"Agreed," Carlyle said, nodding toward the diner, "inside."

The two crossed the silent street which was dimly lit by LED lamps. The door chimed as they entered the diner. Carlyle stomped the wet off his shoes the best he could before returning to his window table.

Taylor sat across from Carlyle and removed his flight jacket, held it out in the aisle and shook it before setting it next to him.

Carlyle grabbed his scotch and finished it in one gulp, "Now. Do ya' mind tellin' me what the hell's goin' on?"

Taylor took a glass of water sitting on the table and gulped twice before answering, "Yes. I am a time traveler. Yes, the other Taylor is another version of me. It's very complicated... time is running out. I'm moving through time trailing him, but I've never been able to catch him. Your little betrayal screwed up everything..."

Carlyle held his hand up to pause Taylor, "Wait, wait now. Slow down a tad, will ya'?" With a wave of his hand he summoned the waitress for another scotch.

Taylor held his hand up to add one for him, "If you don't mind?"

"Sure, why not? Make it two, Betty."

The waitress nodded and prepared their drinks.

"Okay, so what's so important that you have to catch your other self?"

"Like I said," Taylor began, but paused as the waitress set the two drinks in front of them.

"Will there be anything else, sugar?"

"No, that's fine, Ms. Betty, thank you," Carlyle answered, resting his hand on her wrist.

Betty pulled her arm from his grip, "Keep your hands to yourself, Mister."

"You were saying?" Carlyle said, returning his attention to the strange man.

Taylor doubled over in pain and his image flickered before Carlyle.

"What's the matter, Taylor?" Carlyle asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Taylor shook his head and picked up his drink, "I just left and returned. It didn't look like I left because I am learning how to control this thing."

"Wait, you left?" Carlyle quizzed, sipping yet another bit of the scotch, "There was a slight glimmer... was that when you left?"

"Yes, yes. I left for quite some time. I almost caught up to him."

"You never told me what happens if you don't catch him, and how long did you say you were gone just now?"

"It's hard to say exactly... it was a fraction of a second to you. To me I've been after Taylor for years. Every time I travel, I get closer, but the space-time continuum sort of prevents me from reaching him."

Carlyle took two more sips and then a large gulp before setting the glass on the table.

"If I don't stop him from traveling through time, the universe will be destroyed."

"Destroyed!?" Carlyle shouted.

"Shhh, keep it down already, man," Taylor downed his glass and set the empty on the table.

This time Carlyle whispered, "Destroyed?"

"My other self entered this time chamber by accident. He can't be recalled. Neither can I unless I stop him. Once he's stopped, we can correct this distorted timeline."

Carlyle followed Taylor and gulped the remaining elixir, "I didn't know..."

"I know, I know... how could you have?"

"What can I do? You obviously keep returning to me for some reason."

"Yes. I think I've figured out a way to prevent the continuum from stopping me."

"Go on...

Taylor reached in is jacket pocket and pulled out a hand written note, "I need you to put this note in the brim of a hat that I will buy. It's across town at Ma's Hanging Hats."

"He will be in town tomorrow?"

"Yes. I've been traversing several markers over the last thirty years. This hat he's... I'm... going to buy, will be left behind on one of my encounters. Clint Bartholomew discovers the note and will create a fracture in time that cannot be erased."

"Clint Bartholomew? I've heard that name, who is he?"

"He becomes the Director of Jupiter Station. This note will be left behind by the other Taylor. This leads me to catch myself."

Carlyle took the note and placed it in his shirt pocket, "How do I know which one he buys?"

"You will know when you see him pick it out."

"What? You want me to be in the same room with him?"

"Relax, it'll be alright."

"How am I gonna get this note inside the brim if he's already bought it?"

"You a resourceful man; I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence... but I don't know..."

"You have to do this... you must do this. I can't get close enough or I would. Just remember the entire human race is counting on you doing this."

"No pressure, thas' fur sure."

"You can do this, I know you can."

Twenty

Earth Year:

2516/03/17 - 01:32:45

Jupiter Station

After the celebration, Clint took the rail car around Jupiter Station's ring to his quarters. He fiddled in his jacket pocket, remembering the crumpled note he had stuffed there earlier.

Unfolding the note, he read what was written, "If you are reading this, that means I'm getting closer to reversing the accident. You must find Taylor Jorgensen and kill him. I know this sounds strange, but you have to understand, I went through a lot of trouble getting this message to you. Trust me and ask yourself where did your hat come from? You must remember." The note was signed TJ.

"Humph, what the devil does this mean," Clint softly asked himself. "Come ta' think of it. This hat did appear kind of mysteriously."

Taking the hat off his head, he set it down on his night stand. Loosening his tie, he pulled it from his neck, and then flopped onto his lumpy mattress.

Clint closed his eyes and tried to remember the events of the day, but nothing significant came to mind; especially anything about Taylor Jorgensen. He reached over to his halo-computer and waved his hand, "Computer, is Taylor Jorgensen still aboard the station?"

"Affirmative."

"What is his present location?"

"Taylor Jorgensen's current location is inside Director Bartholomew's quarters."

Clint sat upright, "What?"

"Shhh," a man in the shadows whispered, "Don't be alarmed."

"Who are you?" Clint demanded as he reached for his sidearm.

"It's Taylor... I came for my hat..."

"Stay away from me!"

Taylor approached Clint from the side of the room. Clint took aim and shot him between the eyes. Taylor fell to his knees and fell backward, blood flowing from the single bullet hole in his head.

FTL Year:

2518/11/16 - 11:45:14

Time Chamber

The star-covered time chamber lit up with a flash. Tipper and Jonas appeared out of the column of light, their lips still embracing as they expressed their love for one another.

"Hey!" Bo winked from the chair he sat in, near the illuminated circle, "You two need ta' get a room or somethin'?"

Jonas looked over and exclaimed, "Bo!"

Tipper quickly turned and joined Jonas' enthusiastic expression, "You're awake!"

"Well, of course I am," Bo smiled, "The Attendant woke me."

"Wait a minute," Jonas interrupted, "Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah," Tipper added, "You came to us and slapped something on our necks."

"Now, that wasn't my idea."

"You're saying the Attendant planned that?" Jonas asked.

"Well, it was my idea to go back and try to stop Napoleon from being killed. Guess that wasn't such a bright idea after all."

"How are you feeling, Bo? You seem fully recovered," Tipper asked.

"Yes, yes, I was placed in the coma by the Attendant."

"You mean the Attendant lied to us?" Jonas protested.

"Well, maybe the Attendant implied they couldn't wake me. It was all part of the plan. If you hadn't gone with Pippen, there would have been another paradox."

"Sending you to a point in time we never went to, that's what you're sayin' right?"

"Yes, Skipper. The time paradox cannot occur that's why they took the measures they have."

"Where is the Attendant?" Tipper asked, "We have a lot of questions."

"Yeah, how in the hell did this computer generated, whatever you call it, know where and when to send you?"

"That is because there has been a time paradox, Jonas Arnell," the Attendant answered, appearing from the column of light.

"The time paradox is moving through time, and must be corrected before the time-quakes collide and destroy the space surrounding your home planet."

"But..." Jonas began, but was quickly interrupted by the Attendant.

"...you cannot fully understand how we know of this, but there is a new mission you must be sent on."

"A mission," Jonas protested. "That's what we're calling this now?"

"Time is of the essence," the Attendant said.

"But this is a time chamber. Don't we have all the time we need?" Tipper asked.

"That's what you told us before," Jonas pointed.

"The Attendant has briefed me of everything, Skipper," Bo said, standing to his feet, "now, come on. For once in your life will you just listen? Listen to the Attendant!"

"Yeah, what he said!" Tipper smirked.

"Hey, I thought you two hated each other."

"That was before we had the chance to live together the last three years."

"Yeah," Tipper gave Jonas a friendly shove, "I'm a sucker for hard luck cases."

"Fine," Jonas said with a head shake. Placing his hands on his hips, he turned to the Attendant, "Okay, what's our mission?"

The Attendant explained their current situation, "The second Taylor has accomplished stopping the first Taylor."

"How is that a bad thing," Tipper asked, "I thought that's what the goal here was, and why hasn't he been recalled?"

"You are quite correct, Tipper Montgomery, however, the method that Taylor used to stop his first self has created a time paradox."

"What happened?" Jonas asked.

"Time is relative to this time chamber, that is correct, Jonas Arnell. However, because time moves differently within the chamber, events that happen in your future impact our present."

"Okay, I get that time moves differently. So what caused this paradox?"

"The second Taylor had a note placed in the brim of a hat that the first Taylor purchased. That note created a time fracture."

"A fracture isn't as bad as a paradox?" Jonas asked.

"Time fractures do occur. Those are things that belong, disappear, and then reappear."

"You mean it's like not being able to find your data pad," Tipper nodded, "You know you looked in that spot and it wasn't there... then it's there when you look again?"

"You are quite correct Tipper Montgomery. The note created a time fracture. When the biological unit, Clint Bartholomew, located the note, the first Taylor was called to that point in time and tried to take it from him. It was not there and should have been removed. Clint shot Taylor, and he died. The time paradox ensued because the second Taylor moved to a point in the timeline. A place in your future where the first Taylor should have been, but could not be..."

"Because he was killed in his past," Tipper finished for the Attendant.

"Yes, once again, you are quite correct, Tipper Montgomery."

"So you need us to stop Clint from shooting Taylor?"

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, you are quite correct. Clint must not be allowed to kill the first Taylor."

"Sounds easy enough," Bo said, "But I've been that route before and it didn't work out for me. How can we ensure our success?"

"You must not fail," the Attendant insisted. "The first Taylor must reach his encounter in his future."

"Encounter with the second Taylor, you mean?"

"Yes, Tipper Montgomery, you are quite correct."

"But I thought the space-time continuum won't allow ourselves to come into contact with one another," Jonas asked, "Isn't that the whole problem in the first place?"

"That problem has been corrected."

"How's that?"

"We are sorry, Jonas Arnell, we cannot reveal that information."

"Well, that figures," Jonas spat.

"You must trust our ability to correct this paradox. It is imperative you do this now."

"Okay, who goes?" Jonas asked, spreading his arms wide.

"We have programmed you to go, Jonas Arnell."

"Oh, because I raised my hand first, I'm the lucky stiff?"

"Never mind, Attendant," Tipper shrugged, "I'll go."

"We are sorry, Tipper Montgomery, we have already programmed the time chamber for Jonas Arnell. There is not enough time to alter the program."

"Okay then," Jonas shrugged. "Let's get to it then. What do you need me to do?"

"You may stop Clint Bartholomew from killing Taylor in any manner you desire. You must not fail, Jonas Arnell."

"Can you give me a little heads up on my environment? Where are you putting me?"

"You are traveling to a few moments before Taylor arrives to collect the note his other self planted."

"Okay, so we're on Earth or somewhere else?"

"Jupiter Station in Clint Bartholomew's quarters."

"Got it... Let's get this over already."

"Very well, the time chamber is ready," the Attendant nodded.

Jonas turned to Tipper and held her by her waist, "Don't worry, I'll be okay. I'm coming back."

"You better, you big lug," Tipper reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

"Okay, I'll be back in a flash, so to speak."

Jonas jumped into the beam of light and teleported to the time chamber coordinates.

Earth Year:

2516/03/17 - 01:32:45

Jupiter Station

The flash of light disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Jonas standing in darkness inside Clint's quarters, shook his head, and got his bearings of the room.

The doors to Clint's room slid open revealing Clint's silhouette as he stepped inside.

The door closed behind Clint and he made is way to his bed. He mumbled as he stuffed a note back into his pocket, "Humph, what the devil does this mean. Come ta' think of it. This hat did appear kind of mysteriously."

Taking the hat off his head, he set it down on his night stand. Loosening his tie, he pulled it from his neck, and then flopped onto his lumpy mattress.

"Hey, Clint," Jonas softly spoke, in an attempt to not startle the tired man.

Clint sat upright, "What?"

"Shhh," Jonas whispered, "Don't be alarmed, Mister Director."

"Who are you?" Clint demanded as he reached for his sidearm.

Jonas held his hands out in a defensive posture, "Wait... don't shoot me, it's Jonas."

"Computer," Clint ordered, "increase lighting by thirty percent."

The lights in the room raised enough for Clint to see it was Jonas standing at the foot of his bed, "What the... how's this possible? You only left a few days ago? Did you reverse burn or something?"

"No, Clint. I have little time before he arrives."

"What're you talkin' about, man?"

"It's rather complicated, but I need you on your feet... come on, come on, we don't have all day."

Clint reluctantly stood, Jonas reached for the hat and held his arm as a beam of light enveloped both of them.

Another flash of light appeared as Taylor stepped through. He looked around the room and cursed, "I missed him!"

Another flash of light and Taylor vanished from the room.

FTL Year:

2518/11/16 - 11:50:26

Time Chamber

Clint and Jonas exited the time chamber. Clint stumbled as he exited. His eyes shot wide open, and he looked all around him, "What just happened? Where am I?"

The Attendant appeared to Clint, "We are sorry, Clint Bartholomew. We did not know Jonas Arnell would bring you back with him."

"Back where?"

"It's complicated, Clint," Jonas said, steadying Clint by the arm.

"I guess so..."

"You were brought back to this time chamber we discovered to prevent a paradox."

"Paradox, you still have me confused," Clint looked around and noticed Tipper and Bo, "Where's everyone else?"

"I'm afraid we're the only ones left."

"Oh man!"

"It's alright, the Attendant will send you back to your time. I'm guessing just after Taylor gives up looking for this," Jonas said, holding his hat in the air, "Here, take it. It's yours. I'm thinkin' you must keep this with you at all times."

Clint reached out a reluctant hand and took the fedora, "You mean this is all for real? It's not just a bad dream?"

"Yes, Clint Bartholomew," the Attendant answered, "However, Jonas Arnell is correct in saying you must return to your own timeline."

"Will I remember any of this?"

"We are sorry. We mean you no harm, Clint Bartholomew. However, you will alter many decisions based on this new knowledge of the teleport chamber. This new knowledge will further alter your timeline, making it impossible to repair. Your memories will be wiped. You will not remember this incident."

"Too bad, this is kind of cool."

"Yeah well," Tipper began, "Looks can be deceiving, this time portal thing's a real bitch."

"Jonas," Clint said, extending his hand. Jonas gripped his hand firmly before Clint continued, "I'm glad you made it. Will I ever see you again?"

"I don't know, Mister Director," Jonas said, still shaking his hand, "But I have a feeling I will someday."

Clint retracted his hand and faced the beam of light, "Okay, I'm ready," Clint squeezed his eyes shut.

"Closing your eyes in such manner is unnecessary, Clint Bartholomew."

"That's okay. I prefer it this way..."

"The time chamber has completed the program. You may step through the portal when you are ready."

Clint slowly raised one foot and took a step through the beam of light.

He woke up in his own bed and shot upright yelling, "Who's there? Computer! Full illumination!" He looked around but saw no one there. Shrugging off the feeling as a bad dream, he instructed the computer to turn out the lights and then fell to sleep.

Twenty-One

FTL Year:

2518/11/16 - 23:58:16

Time Chamber

Bo, Tipper and Jonas stood before the bright light of the time chamber and watched as Clint slid into his bed.

"Well, looks like we fixed that little paradox," Jonas said, "Right Attendant?"

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, you are quite correct. We created this time fracture to prevent the paradox in your future."

"So how come we're still wearing the MCO insignia?" Tipper asked, inspecting her flight jacket.

The Attendant smiled, "There is yet one more event that must take place. Once that is complete, your timeline can be repaired."

"What's this event that has to take place?" Bo asked.

"Step back from the time portal, you will know in a few moments."

The team followed the Attendant's instructions and took a few steps backward.

"What will happen?" Tipper asked.

"In a moment, we will know if the merging of the two Taylor's has taken place."

"I thought the space-time continuum would prevent them from joining."

"There is one way that this can take place, and we have already made the necessary preparations."

Earth Year:

2541/03/12 - 16:30:00

PAC Base Command

Clint Bartholomew's shuttle from Jupiter Station landed on time. The door to the shuttle lifted open, and the pilot assisted the aging Clint down the steps.

"Sir," the pilot said, "Your luggage will be delivered to your room."

"Thank you, my good man," Clint smiled and tipped his hat to the pilot.

Clint strolled down the causeway of the base when red lights and alarms rang out from the claxons. The base computer alert system droned, "Alert... Alert... planet Earth is under attack... Alert... Alert... General Quarters..."

Clint froze in his tracks, the echo of the computer voice continued in the background, "What the hell's going on?" he asked himself.

He looked out the causeway to red flashes high in the atmosphere. After the initial blasts dimmed the sky, sixteen capital MCO destroyers became visible and were descending into high altitude.

The eighty-year old man broke out in a full run. He panted as he pumped his arms and legs toward the base command center, "Still... in pretty... good shape..." he puffed as he ran.

One marine guard stopped him briefly before he was recognized, "Sorry, Sir, go right in."

"Will someone tell me what the hell's going on down here?" Clint spat, storming into the base command center.

"It's the MCO, Sir," Major Clyde Banks reported. The dark haired man studied the scanner consoles, not turning to Clint, "They've launch an all-out attack on us!"

"Those dirty bastards!" Clint slammed his fist on the counter, "They broke the armistice!"

"Everyone knew the day would come, Sir."

Clint looked at the slender man, "How many ships, Major?"

"Twenty-seven on the northern continent. Globally: sixty-eight."

Captain Zak Rogers shot Major Banks a panicked glare, "They're sending troop transport ships to every major city in the world!"

"What about planetary defenses?" Clint demanded.

"Three of our orbital defense platforms are gone; the remaining five platforms have been taken over and have turned their guns on our bases."

The ground shook beneath Clint's feet, and the quaking ground threw the men to the floor.

Major Banks crawled to his console, "They're attacking our base! Heavy casualties being reported... There are only seven fleet ships in orbit. The rest are grounded for maintenance."

"We should never have agreed to this ceasefire!" Clint argued.

"Regardless of that, Sir, we can't take another volley like the last one," Major Banks said with a head shake.

"Incoming missiles!" Captain Rogers reported.

"Evacuate now!" Clint ordered.

Major Banks and Captain Rogers passed out plasma rifles to everyone. The room cleared. Service men and women fled toward any available shuttle in sight as fifty caliber shells blew all round them.

One round zipped past Clint's head as he ducked just in time. He armed his rifle and held it as he had in battle many times before. It was like an old friend to his memories. Missing the adrenalin rush of combat, he grew a smile, and barked orders to the men closest to him.

Major Banks hid behind a slab of fallen concrete with Clint, "One transport has landed a half a click away, Sir. What are your orders?"

"Those hold fifty men?"

"Yeah, that's a pretty good estimate, Sir."

"Get all the men you can and form a squad to counter them."

Captain Rogers dove over the top of the cement slab, dodging one of the large rounds. The ground shook with the explosion.

"Rogers, you okay?" Major Banks shouted over the exploding shells.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Captain Rogers yelled in return.

"Take some men and flank those approaching troops!"

"You got it, Major!"

Captain Rogers peered over the fallen cement and then motioned for five men to follow. With a wave of his arm, he shouted, "This way!"

"The rest of you, follow me," Major Banks ordered, "Right up the middle. Clint, you stay here..."

"There's no way you'll get me to stay behind," Clint barked, "I may be eighty years old, but still fit as a fiddle! I'm coming with!"

"Okay, Sir, have it your way," Major Banks waved his arm, "Follow me!"

The squadron of eight made their way forward, dodging exploding shells and mortars to a close position. Major Banks pumped a fist to halt them, "This is as good as any spot. Take position and open fire!"

The eight men littered themselves among the debris field. The approaching MCO soldiers fired, attempting to pick off as many of the PAC men as they could.

Shots rang out from the approaching men from one side. Several MCO soldiers fell. Twenty remaining took cover, laser blasts screamed through the air, lighting up the darkening sky.

One of the MCO officers radioed to his command, "Sir, they've got us pinned down! Request a bombing run!"

The radio crackled in his ear, "Roger that. Target acquired. I suggest you retreat until the dust settles."

"Ten-four," he tapped his ear piece off and then shouted to his men, "Withdrawal and take cover!"

The MCO squadron slowly backed away from the firefight.

Clint looked above his head, "Destroyer, eleven-o'clock!"

"Got it," Major Banks reported.

"They're firing missiles on our location," Clint shouted, "Retreat! Move out! Now!"

The incoming missiles leveled the remaining structures of the PAC base. With one missile close to Clint and his squadron, they were tossed high into the air. Clint held his hands out in front of him. Dropping his weapon, Clint fell to the ground in a heap.

More missiles rocked the compound. Buildings fell and dust flew high into the air, and then all was quiet.

A man walked toward the fallen PAC soldiers through the thick dust that continued to settle.

He looked down at the dead former Director and smiled. Then he reached down and plucked the hat that lay next to his body, "Not bad," the first Taylor said, "There's my hat... and look, it's still in one piece, too."

Taylor fondled the rim of the hat and then set it upon his head. Turning to the MCO squadron leader, he tipped it slightly forward. Spreading his arms in a pose, he asked, "How's it look on me?"

The sky lit up with a brilliant flash and then burned across the atmosphere changing to a red color before completely dissipating.

"Oh there they are now," Taylor pointed to the sky, "The atmospheric nukes have detonated. I suggest you get all your men off planet within the next twenty minutes."

The sergeant acknowledged his orders, turned and barked commands as he ran.

Taylor looked down at the deceased Director, "I'm sorry it had to end this way, Mister Director, but you see, there was really no other alternative. You had to deliver my hat to me or there would have been a paradox. I guess you won't be needing a lift off the planet, seeing your present condition and all. In twenty minutes, when the fallout from the planet-wide nuclear detonations arrive, they will render all life on this rock extinct... So," Taylor turned to leave for his transport, "I should be going."

"Not so fast, Taylor!" a familiar voice echoed from behind.

Spinning back around, the first Taylor addressed the man standing in the shadows of the rubble, "I was wondering how soon you'd be showing up."

The second Taylor exited the shadow, aiming a plasma weapon at his chest, "Stop, you're not going anywhere."

"When're you gonna give up this futile attempt to merge with me? You know you can't approach any closer. Nor can I, it's just simple physics, my good man. Now if you will excuse me, I really must be leaving now."

The first Taylor spun back around toward his ship and stopped in his tracks.

"You! What are you doing here?"

Pippen ran with her arms stretched out toward the first Taylor, "You're right, Taylor, you can't move closer, but I can force you two together!"

She connected with Taylor's chest and shoved him backward into the second Taylor and then vanished in a beam of light.

The two Taylors' connected with one another, the second Taylor dropped his plasma weapon on the ground and the two grabbed their heads. The shock-wave of the two Taylor's merging outside the time portal shot out in all directions. The tempest opened, enveloping the two Taylor's until there was only one standing. The powerful wave leveled all the buildings that remained standing from the MCO attack.

The landscape changed around the single Taylor, the tempest continued to shine at the one single place he stood.

The falling red radiation from the MCO attack was eradicated by the time tempest and then vanished as quickly as it had come. The single Taylor fell to his knees and silently wept at the devastation left behind by his merging with his other self.

As the dust settled, Taylor got to his feet. His suit was torn and tattered. Dirt caked on his arms and legs. He took one step forward and then another. The settled dust being kicked into the air around his feet sparkled in the moonlight as he silently walked through the devastation. The felt fedora was still on his head, but now was layered with crumbled cement dust and dirt.
Epilogue

FTL Year:

2518/11/17 - 00:00:00

Time Chamber

A flash of light diminished revealing Pippen who exited the beam of light. Jonas, Tipper, and Bo exclaimed in unison, "Pip! You're alive!"

"Yes, I'm alright."

"What happened?" Tipper asked.

"Yeah, we saw you killed in an accident!"

"It was all part of the programming from the Attendant," Pippen explained. "They couldn't tell you I was programmed to vanish right before the accident. They programmed me to meet up with the two Taylor's and intervene with their merging."

"Pippen Morgan is quite correct," the Attendant said, appearing before the group. "This is why Bo Richardson was sent to plant your recall subroutine, and why we could not awaken him. If he had revealed any part of this plan, it would not have been successful."

Tipper looked at her flight jacket insignias, "Well, it looks like whatever was done worked, 'cause we're no longer with the MCO."

"Mine says PAC too," Jonas nodded.

"All of our jackets are with the Planetary Alliance Coalition," Bo said.

"What happened, Pippen, how'd you get them to merge?"

"I didn't have much time. When I appeared at the time marker, the Earth had already been attacked by the MCO. They detonated an atmospheric nuclear blast. I saw the devastation, including the death of Clint."

"Clint was killed?" Jonas asked, "Attendant, you had me send Clint back to be killed?"

"We are sorry for your loss, Jonas Arnell, his death was inevitable. You must remember the time dilation effects of your travel to this planet."

Bo grimaced, "How could we ever forget that?"

"Yes," the Attendant continued, "This current time here, twenty-five years have passed on your world. What took place happened now to you."

"If the two Taylor's have merged, why hasn't the recall program engaged?" Tipper asked.

The Attendant turned to Tipper, "Time has been fractured. There are events in the timeline that were altered. These events must be undone if you will."

"Events?" Jonas asked, "Undone?"

"Though you may have reversed the course of events after your launch and continued to be with your faction labeled PAC, the MCO continues to be a strong force in your solar system. Only a few parts were corrected in your timeline. Others need your intervention to correct."

"So," Bo added, "what you're saying is we are still unable to leave the time chamber the way we came?"

"You are quite correct, Bo Richardson."

"What events need to be corrected? What must we do?" Jonas asked.

The Attendant turned to Jonas, "Are you in agreement that you will provide your full support to restoring your timeline?"

Jonas looked over to Tipper, Bo, and Pippen, "I think we're all in agreement. We want to restore the timeline to the way it was."

Tipper wrapped her arm around Jonas', "I'm with you."

"Bo? Pip?" Jonas nodded in their direction.

Bo looked down at Pip, "I'm in if you are."

Pippen nodded, and then a tear dripped from her eye, "As long as we're together, Bo, I'm in too."

"Very well," the Attendant nodded, "We are compiling the data and will share our findings once they become clear. However, there is one event we have already identified that has been altered."

"What is it?" Jonas asked.

"On your home world in the year of nineteen-hundred and forty-five, German scientist, Wernher von Braun, the creator of the world's first long-range guided ballistic missile, never defected to America to assist the organization labeled NASA in their rocket research. The Governments project Paperclip never existed."

"Von Braun invented the V2 rockets, yes. But how does that damage the timeline?" Jonas asked.

"His discoveries advanced the United States of the Americas as a defining force in the world. Instead, Germany became the stronghold of the world. France was joined to Germany, and they became the superpowers in the world. The first manned mission to your world's satellite was not accomplished by your country, rather by the German-French space program. This leads to the formation of the Mars Consortium and the major power they become in your future."

"So we have to get von Braun to defect to America?" Tipper asked.

"I thought they surrendered to the Americans, and that's how the scientists defected?"

"You are quite correct, Jonas Arnell, that is how it happened the first time. However, in this timeline, the Germans executed the scientists before they surrendered to the Americans."

"Executed?" Bo asked. "This is sounding more dangerous all the time."

"It will be a difficult mission. We are still working on the mission parameters, but your main mission will be to ensure the German scientists are not executed. Then you will deliver them to the hands of the Americans."

"And we always will be recalled here?" Pippen asked.

"Yes, after each mission success, you will be recalled. The timeline will be analyzed for success and if there is a positive outcome, the next time fracture will be identified."

"How many fractures do we have to repair?" Bo asked.

"Bo Richardson, we are unsure how the timeline repairs will affect future missions until those are completed."

"And we won't age while we're here?" Tipper asked.

"Yes, this will become your base of operations for the timeline restoration missions. We will care for you, and you will not age."

"When do we get started?" Tipper smiled.

"We will have the first programming completed shortly. I will let you know when we are ready to proceed."

"Then I suggest we all get some sleep and prepare ourselves. It looks like it's going to be a lengthy process," Jonas added.

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, you are quite correct," the Attendant said, "All of you should rest. We can assure you this will be a lengthy and difficult journey. However, with the successes we have measured, we are confident it will be possible to restore your timeline."

"What about Sterling and Simon?" Bo asked, "Any chance we can bring them back?"

"We are sorry, Bo Richardson, we are unable to determine if that can be accomplished. If a scenario is discovered, we will share that with you."

"Okay, boys and girls," Jonas said, "Let's get to each of our quarters and get some sleep."

Tipper joined Jonas' arm once more, "I'm bunking with you, ya' big lug."

"And I with you, Bo," Pippen smiled.

"Pip, really... you're gonna make me blush."

"Oh come now, you've known I've had a thing for you all this time, right?"

"Okay, okay, you two," Tipper smirked, "Just get a room already."

Pippen glanced over to Tipper, "Yep, on it, sister."

"Okay, okay, so Attendant, you'll let us know when you're ready?"

"Yes, Jonas Arnell, we will send word to you once the mission parameters are complete. Good night."

The Attendant vanished from everyone's eyes. They were left with an area of illumination and the center beam of light that glistened like stars.

"See you all soon," Jonas said, and then turned and walked with Tipper, arm and arm, into the pyramid's darkness.

~ Not the Ending...

...Only the Beginning ~

# # #

Sneak Peek

I hope you enjoyed the first Time book. For your reading pleasure, here's a peek at what's coming in the second volume.

T I M E

Fractured

(Vol. 2)

By Brian K. Larson

One

Time is peculiar if you think about it. We cannot see time, move it, taste it, or smell it. We only know it exists through our perception. Time moves faster in some situations and slower in others. What is time?

Time is a component quantity of various measurements used to sequence events, and we use time to compare the duration of those events. We measure the intervals between events, and to quantify rates of changes in our own perceptions. Only in our subconscious mind, can we change time and our reality.

If someone has figured out how to time travel, we may never know in our conscious experience that anything has changed.
Earth Year:

1945/04/01 - 10:10:36

Mittelwerk

Harz Mountain Range

Tipper leaned closer to Jonas from the sidecar, "Faster!". Yelling over the sound of the motorcycle the two motored down the bumpy dirt road.

"I know! I know!" Jonas yelled in return, wet dirt and mud caking over his goggles, "I'm going as fast as I can, already!"

Tipper turned in the sidecar and tugged Jonas' SS jacket, "They're gaining on us!"

"You remember what the Attendant said, right?" Jonas gunned the throttle and kicked down a gear to take the next corner.

"I remember many things, which one?" Tipper continued to shout and squished low in the sidecar as they took the corner.

Jonas let up on the throttle and down shifted as they slid around the corner. The edge of the sidecar smacked across three wooden fence posts.

"Cuttin' that a bit close, ain't ya'?" Tipper said with panic.

"Don't worry about a thing, sweetie, you're still in one piece."

Tipper examined the postmarks on the edge of her sidecar and slapped Jonas' arm.

"Ouch! What was what for?"

The motorcycle and sidecar bumped across a rut. Jonas' rear lifted high into the air before he regained control, "Whoo hoooo! Nothing like a little adrenaline in the morning, right, Tip?"

"The American's Jonas... they're almost close enough to fire those machine guns on their bikes!"

After three more rough bumps, Jonas took the right fork in the muddy road. Their ride slid sideways and Jonas held the corner with perfection.

"That's more like it," Tipper smiled, "Go Skipper!"

"The Attendant, remember now?"

"Yeah," Tipper shouted, "the transceiver."

"Yeah, they gave us a way to communicate with them in the time chamber."

"Right, calling for back up... you just..."

Tipper's breath was taken away as their bike and sidecar became airborne. The bikes engine raced as Jonas kept his cool and landed with a bounce, "...keep it on the road."

"Roger that, Tip," Jonas said with a smirk. Mud covered his uniform, goggles, and gloves.

Tipper's sidecar gave some protection from the flying mud and stayed mostly dry, "Bo, Tipper here... we've got a problem!"

The gleaming star pattern illuminated the black star-covered pyramid. Bo sat at a computer console, constructed near the illumination and beam of light within the pyramid. Pippen stood behind Bo looking over his shoulder. The images of Jonas and Tipper speeding down a muddy road flashed across the screen. A half-eaten hamburger lay next to Bo's left arm.

Grabbing the burger, he chomped a large bite and chewed as he pointed to the screen with his other hand, "Looks like they're in a bit of a situation."

"Bo, Tipper here... we've got a problem!"

"See?" Bo smiled up at Pippen, "I saw this comin'."

"Well, are you going to answer them?"

"Sure, why not," Bo chuckled at himself, took another bite and chewed as he pressed the transmit button, "Bo here, we're watching what happened back there, stand by."

Pippen sat at the console next to Bo, "I see they got the orders and are on the way to where von Braun and the other scientists are."

"Yes, but they still have to deliver it," Bo added.

"Come on, Bo! We cannot be caught by the allied forces on our tail!" Tipper broadcast to the time chamber.

Bo finished his hamburger, chewing as fast as he could, "No worries, Tipper, we're on it. Can't waste a good hamburger now."

Tipper looked over to Jonas as they rounded another corner on the road, "I can't believe he thinks holographic food is more important that this mission!"

The motorcycle bounced twice more, Jonas nearly losing control, his butt lifting in the air off the seat, "Yeah, tell him we need that package... now!"

"Did you get that, Bo? Now would be a good time."

Tipper ducked as low as she could when they heard gun fire from the approaching bikes.

Bo stood up and stretched, "Okay, we're ready. Delivering the package now... Attendant, you ready?"

"Yes, Bo Richardson, we are always ready. Your gear," the Attendant said as a quantity of wire appeared in his hands. "You and Pippen have been programed. You may enter the time portal when ready."

Bo looked over at Pip, "Okay, let's do this."

Pippen nodded, and the pair jumped into the light.

Tipper lifted a side arm and returned fire, "Nor can I believe I'm actually firing on our own guys!"

"We can't let them stop us, Tip, just a little farther!"

Rounding another left corner, the sidecar lifted from the ground and Tipper let out a scream before the bike righted itself, "Now, Bo!"

The bike and sidecar flew across the mud road and a wire raised as they passed. The two in pursuit were yanked off their bikes. The two machines flipped into the air and landed with a splash. The pursuing men landed in the mud on their backs, the wind taken from them. A flash of light lit up the wooded area and vanished before the two mud laden men saw it.

Jonas and Tipper continued on their way at a slightly reduced speed. Tipper shoved Jonas and smiled, "Nice job, Skipper."

Tipper heard in her ear the voice of one disgruntled Bo, "Hey, what about us?"

"You guys did fine, thanks for the bailout."

"Oh gee, I'm just so overwhelmed with emotion from your praise, Tip. Thank you, so much."

Tipper looked over at Jonas and shook her head, "Well, Bo, if ya' had got here a little sooner..."

"Yeah, well, I was hungry," Tipper and Jonas heard in their transceivers.

Jonas continued to steer the cycle through the wooded road, "Just keep monitoring our progress and we should return shortly."

"You got it, Skipper."

"Jonas," Tipper shouted toward Jonas, "You sure the Attendant says they'll understand us? I don't know how to speak German!"

"Yes, Tipper," Jonas shouted in return, "The Attendant said we'll be able to speak any language through our transceivers."

"I don't know, Jonas, I'm still a skeptic!"

"I know, I know, Tip. It's hard wrapping our heads around the alien technology, but we have to trust them."

"How far before we reach them?"

"Should be just about two more clicks."

"So this Hans Kammler is our contact for these new orders. What if he doesn't follow them?"

"Even though the Germans are winning the war, the Soviet army is moving closer. He won't risk them capturing the five-hundred missile technicians."

"So, at this point in history, von Braun is already planning on surrendering to allied forces."

"Yes, these orders are for Kammler to evacuate the technicians to the Alps. That gives von Braun the opportunity to surrender to our forces."

"At least that's what the Attendant says," Tipper nodded, clearing some mud from her goggles.

"Hang on, this is the last corner."

Jonas gunned the throttle and down-shifted as he flew the bike around the corner and then came to a stop outside a wooden fence strung with barbed wire.

Shutting the engine off, Tipper and Jonas could hear the voice on the other side of the fence shouting, "Halt!"

Jonas kicked is leg over the bike with his hands raised. Tipper crawled out of the sidecar.

"We have orders for Kammler!"

The guard trained his machine gun on the two, "Hans wasn't expecting any orders!"

"We bring orders from the high command, and I suggest you do not ignore them!"

"Show me your papers... easy... easy..."

Jonas reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his travel voucher and the orders, complete with the Fuhrer's seal.

The second guard reached over the fence and took them for inspection, "Everything is in order, Sir," he said to the first guard.

The first guard nodded, "Open the gate. I will take you to Kammler."

The second guard opened the gate and let the two enter. They followed him to a run-down house and opened the door, "After you," he motioned with the barrel of his gun.

Hans Kammler stood from a desk, "What is this interruption?!"

"These two say they have new orders for you."

"Orders? From the Fuhrer?"

The guard questioned them, "Why weren't these orders sent over the radio?"

Kammler interrupted his guard, "That is because they did not want them intercepted by others listening, you fool!"

The guard stepped back and bowed slightly, "My apologies, Sir."

"It is alright. I prefer my guards to be alert... dismissed!"

The guard pounded his fist on his chest and extended his hand in the traditional salute and walked out of the room.

"Now," Kammler said, motioning to two chairs, "Sit, rest... it must have been a dangerous journey. Would you like a drink?"

"No thanks," Tipper answered.

Jonas glanced over to her and returned his stare at Kammler, "Yes, thank you."

Kammler stood and walked to a bar off to one side of the room. He took two glasses and poured each a shot and handed one of them to Jonas.

Jonas lifted the elixir to his nose and took in its aroma.

"To the Fuhrer!" Kammler said, raising his glass in the air.

"To the Fuhrer," Jonas repeated, and the two downed their shots.

Kammler returned to his seat behind the desk and looked at the pair.

Tipper grew uncomfortable and asked, "Aren't you going to read the orders?"

"There is plenty of time for orders, Fraulein."

Jonas leaned forward, "We were told to ensure you read them upon delivery."

Kammler abruptly stood with his hands on his desk, "Are you questioning my authority?!"

"No, Sir," Jonas answered as calmly as he could. "Just fulfilling my orders."

"No one questions my authority!"

"General," Jonas said, now standing with the man, "Are you going to question Reichsführer-SS Heinrich Himmler's orders?"

Kammler quietly returned to his seat, "These come from the Reichsführer himself?"

Jonas glanced at Tipper who was looking at Jonas in awe and then returned his stare to Kammler, "Yes, that is correct... and I am to report directly to him on your acceptance of these orders."

Kammler glanced at the sealed orders on his desk and reluctantly took them. Methodically, he inspected the seal and turned to Tipper, "So, Fraulein? What part Germany do you come from?"

Tipper gulped as he broke the seal and flipped the envelop open, "Um, I'm with the SS-Helferinnenkorps."

"Hmmm, interesting," Kammler said, lazily opening the letter. "We do not see too many women serving in the SS."

"I assure you, General," Jonas added, "She was handpicked for this assignment."

"I see," Kammler said, burrying his nose in the orders, "These orders say we are to evacuate to the Alps."

"Yes, that is correct," Jonas said, "the soviet army is advancing on this position as we speak."

"My intelligence shows we are advancing and they are in retreat."

Tipper stood with Jonas in a bold move, "Are you going to follow these orders, SS-Obergruppenführer?"

Kammler shot Tipper a glare, "There are only a select few that know of this new rank. How is it you do?" he said with raised eyebrows.

The door to the house shot open with one guard running in, "Obergruppenführer, the soviets are approaching!"

Kammler tossed his orders on the desk and came around to the man, "Assemble your firing teams, and execute the technicians immediately."

The guard saluted Kammler and left to carry out his orders.

"What about your orders from Heinrich," Jonas asked.

"We're too late. Take arms and join the others on the front-lines."

Machine gun fire was heard, followed by screams of men succumbing to the SS weapons.

Tipper and Jonas shot each other a glance and ran out the back. A beam of light flashed, and the two vanished from 1945.

More Works

I hope you enjoyed this first installment in the 'Time' series.

Here are more books by me for your reading enjoyment.

Salvage-5

Salvage-5:The Next Mission

Salvage-5:Another Mission

A.M.P

(Amplified Mental Projection)

Phase_1:_The_Gamma_Project

Phase_1:_The_Vanguard

The Warlords of Antares

Warlords Series Book 1

Empress of Antares

Warlords Series Book 2

Blood Scroll of Antares

Warlords Series Book 3

Secret of the Crystal

Secret of the Crystal II

The Forge

Secret of the Crystal III

Destiny

Secret of the Crystal IV

Forgotten Legacy

Secret of the Crystal V

The Rune

~ Coming Soon ~

T I M E

Fractured

Paradox

I hope you enjoyed the sneak peek for Time Fractured.

This is sure to keep you thinking.

Thank you for taking the time to read and support my writing, and please be sure to visit my author page on Amazon for a complete list of books.

Follow me on Twitter and Facebook, or visit my web for the latest book release news at:

One last thing, please do your favorite author a favor and post a review for their hard work.

Thank you

Author, Brian K. Larson

