Star Trek: The Original Series: The Rings of Time

Chekov sighed dolefully. “I just hope we don’t trigger a self-destruct mechanism by mistake!”

You and me both, Shaun thought. He tried not to think about the hundreds of lives depending on him. One good thing, he consoled himself. If I screw this up, nobody back home is going to hear about it for hundreds of years.

He took a deep breath and listened to the persistent percussion in his head. If anything, it seemed to be growing even louder and more insistent every minute, as if it was demanding to be set free. He let the alien rhythm flow down to his fingers. He couldn’t remember being this nervous since his junior-high piano recital, which had not gone terribly well. He swallowed hard.

“Okay. Here goes nothing.”

The firing button was cool to the touch. He pressed it, paused, pressed it again.

There was no recoil, no explosion, but sapphire bolts pulsed across thousands of kilometers of space to strike the hexagon in what he prayed was the right sequence. Memories of the probe blasting down at Saturn flashed across his memory in sync with the rhythm driving his fingers. He kept pressing the button until the beat faded away.

At first, nothing happened. Shaun’s heart sank. Had he gotten the signal wrong, or was their crazy theory mistaken? Maybe this was all a waste of time, and he had just been fooling himself to think that he actually knew what he was doing in this terrifying future world.

I don’t belong here. This is all just some cruel cosmic joke.

“Look!” Qat Zaldana pointed at the screen. “Something’s happening!”

A spark appeared at the center of the hexagon, then flared up until it shone as brightly as the sun. People on the bridge gasped and threw up their hands against the glare, until some sort of computerized filter program dimmed the image on the screen. For a moment or two, the light took the form of a gigantic glowing hexagon that matched the vortex’s original dimensions. Gravitational ripples shook the Enterprise, pushing it farther away from the planet.

Sulu struggled to regain control of the ship. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “It’s like an antigrav wave, radiating out from the planet!”

“Do not fight it,” Spock advised. “Let it carry us to a more distant orbit.”

The shock waves seemed stronger than the one Shaun remembered. He wondered what the hell he had just done.

And then it was over. The light gradually subsided, and the actual vortex could be seen once more. Shaun wasn’t sure, but he thought the hexagon looked larger and more energetic than before, more like the one back on Saturn. Its six sides spread outward, pushing through the surrounding cloud layers, while the vortex within the hexagon spun with renewed vigor. Blue spots, left behind by the glare, danced before his eyes. He wiped the tears away as he stared at the reborn hexagon.

Did I do that?

“Gravitational fluxes stabilizing,” Qat Zaldana reported from her station. Despite her veil, she peered into a pop-up viewer of her own. “By the Faceless, I think we did it!”

“Fascinating,” Spock declared.

Excited murmurs and chatter bounced off the gleaming walls of the bridge. Shaun could practically feel the tension lifting. He half expected someone to break open a bottle of champagne or maybe some of that Saurian brandy McCoy had offered him once.

“Good job.” Sulu congratulated him. He shook Shaun’s hand. “Sure you never attended the Academy?”

Shaun glanced down at his golden tunic and insignia. “Well, I’m wearing the uniform, aren’t I?”

Chekov grinned for the first time. “Captain Kirk would be proud.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Dr. McCoy rushed onto the bridge. His uniform was rumpled, and his face was flushed. He looked as if he was having a bad day. His eyes widened at the sight of Shaun seated at the conn.

“There you are!” he said, aghast. “What the devil are you doing at the controls?”

“Possibly providing a solution to our dilemma,” Spock informed the doctor. “And saving many hundreds of lives.”

McCoy was speechless, but only for a moment. “Come again?”

“I don’t believe it,” Governor Dawson declared. “It’s a miracle.”

“Vulcans do not believe in miracles,” Spock replied. “They are not logical.”

Dawson gazed from the main viewer. “Then what would you call what just happened, Mr. Spock? Our home has been saved. The rings are falling back into their usual orbits. Skagway is not going to spiral into the planet. Nobody else has to die.”

“Merely the timely activation of an alien technology so advanced as to appear miraculous,” he stated. “To be precise.”

The governor didn’t argue the point. “Well, whatever you want to call it, we’re grateful for everything you did for us.”

“We all are,” Qat Zaldana added. She stood behind the governor, having returned to Skagway to assist in the rebuilding. “And may I say it was a pleasure to work with your people.”

“We valued your assistance as well,” Spock stated.

Christopher and his fellow astronauts were assembled on the bridge. Shaun occupied the captain’s chair, feeling like an impostor, while Spock and McCoy flanked him. He was inclined to let them do most of the talking.

“It was a team effort,” Christopher said. “I’m just glad we managed to be of service.”

“We couldn’t have done it without you, Captain,” Qat Zaldana said. She sounded as if she was winking behind her veil. “You definitely had the right stuff.”

He got the joke, even if the governor didn’t. It had been decided that Dawson and the other colonists did not need to know about the captain’s peculiar condition. They had their hands full rebuilding after the disaster and the riots. Shaun understood that the governor had issued a blanket amnesty to the refugees who had fled the moon in panic. That struck him as a shrewd and politically savvy move. The colonists needed to work together now, not waste time pointing fingers at one another. He suspected that most of the moon’s inhabitants were just happy to be reunited with their loved ones.

“Do you require any further medical assistance?” McCoy asked.

“Thank you, Doctor, but the supplies you beamed down earlier should be enough. I think we’ve got things in hand now.” She toyed with a shiny crystalline paperweight on her desk. “In fact, my engineers tell me that we should be able to resume normal mining operations soon.”

“Starfleet will be pleased to hear it,” Spock stated.

“Yes,” Christopher agreed, wishing that he knew more about the colony and its significance. What the heck was “dilithium,” anyway?

The governor smiled at Shaun. “I’m glad to see that you’re back on your feet as well, Captain. Hope you didn’t miss too much of the excitement.”

“Oh, I think I got my share,” Shaun assured her. “Don’t worry about me. All in a day’s work for a Starfleet captain.”

Or so I assume, he thought.

Indistinct voices addressed the governor from off-screen. She sighed wearily.

“Well, as you can imagine, I have about a million urgent matters demanding my attention.” Stacks of reports were piled high on her desk. “Thank you again for your assistance. Give my regards to your superiors back at Starfleet Command.” She stared glumly at her workload. “Dawson out.”

The governor and Qat Zaldana disappeared from the viewer, replaced by a view of the massive repair efforts under way on Skagway. No runaway ring matter pummeled the icy lunar landscape. Shaun took a good, long look at the scene. Extraterrestrial colonies and mining operations were still the stuff of science fiction and NASA white papers back in his time. It did his heart good to know that despite wars and recessions and everything else, humanity had finally made it to the stars and seemed to be actually thriving. It made all his years at NASA and Area