Author: Apollo Racer
Title: Origins
Email: fltadmracer@hotmail.com
Characters: New Crew/Star Trek: TOS/Star Trek TOS: Animated Series.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a bizarre twist of fate, a young man from the 21st century is trapped
in a frozen coffin as he drifts along the tides of time to be awakened 200 years
later.

Chapter Three

Apollo hurried through the Academy’s campus, carrying a padd (although he called it an electronic clipboard, since that was what it resembled) while moving at his breakneck pace. He passed instructors and students alike; they were always slightly amazed – as well as slightly amused. In the two years since this cadet joined the Academy, they’ve always seen him reading between classes; he never once looked up, but somehow he managed to navigate his way to his next class without ever bumping into anybody. His instructors knew of his high psi rating… it was uncommon but not unheard of for humans to positively test for it. The fact, however, that they tested higher than a Vulcan’s was extremely rare. As such, it was no surprise that Starfleet Command wanted to keep them under wraps. With all the tests doctor’s ran they couldn’t tell just how much of his talent had been realized and how much had yet to surface.

His record so far was exemplary, and he was always either on time or early for his classes. However, there were certain things that alienated him from his peers. For one thing, he looked older than his classmates; even though he looked much younger than his actual age, his appearance still drew looks and rumors from people. The other item that distanced him from his group was the effort he took in studying. He had so much catch-up learning to do, despite all he had learned on Vulcan, that he was always reading. As a result, he didn’t make many friends; if there was one person he felt particularly close to, enough to call friend, it was his roommate, Skip Douglas. Skip was a wiry guy, but his build belied his strength. He had short, scruffy brown hair, a long freckled face and brown eyes; his uniform always hung from his frame as though it was a size or two too large for him. If Apollo had a problem or a question about anything, he would confide in Skip, and Skip would return the favor by talking with Apollo about anything. There was the circle of friends that Skip associated with, but Apollo really felt somewhat uncomfortable with them. If Apollo looked back at how he acted several years ago, he would have thought his attitude bizarre. But he had changed a lot on Vulcan. Some might even say that he grew up, as far as his behavior was concerned.

There naturally were people who were envious of him. Back in the 21st century, he would have been constantly harassed for “ruining the curve”; fortunately, at the Academy, one was judged by their own talents rather than how they compared to other people’s talents, at least objectively. There was talk that he was being watched from “up above”, meaning Starfleet’s brass. They always took notice of cadets who performed beyond the norm.

Apollo was reading notes about Earth’s Third World War. It started not very long after I “left”, he thought with some shock, only a couple of years later, and I would’ve been history. I wonder if Harvey was caught up in that. Without warning, he stopped on a dime in the middle of a walkway without looking up. An arm shot straight up to the side and stopped another cadet. Just as he was about to take another step, a supply cart was pushed right across their path. As soon as it passed, Apollo was on the move, leaving the bewildered classmate behind.

Suddenly, he felt this itching sensation on the back of his head. He tried to scratch it when he realized that the feeling came from inside his head. Again, Apollo stopped dead in his tracks, startling the people around him. He had experienced this sensation before, but he couldn’t tell what it was, only that the feeling became more pronounced with each time he felt it. He had recently been reading up on mental abilities, trying to pinpoint what it could be. He found one paper describing a precognitive ability in one of the test subjects. The material came to mind at that moment because it listed symtoms very similar to what he was now feeling. Apollo sat down at a nearby bench and concentrated on the sensation, blocking all other stimuli out. A vague image formed in his mind, but he couldn’t quite make it out. He thought he saw a woman, and that she was excited, perhaps panicked. There was some form of conflict, an eerie feeling of wind hitting his face.

The image stopped suddenly, breaking his concentration. Had he been as he was a couple of years ago, he would have frustrated himself to no end. However, now he simply used Vulcan techniques to file the experience away in his memory. He would go over it again, but right now, he had a class to get to. If he hurried, he could still arrive on time.

~ * ~

Later that day, Apollo finished his last class and headed for the dorms. On his way, he noticed a crowd around the corner of another dormitory. He jogged over to see what was so interesting. As he managed to edge near the front, he caught sight of Skip, so he maneuvered in that direction. “Hey,” he said, jabbing his friend in the shoulder, “what happened here?”

Skip looked at who poked him. “Oh, hi, Apollo. You missed it. One of the cadets fell off the dorm roof. It doesn’t look good.”

Suddenly, Apollo felt an extreme sense of dread; he was suddenly compelled to see this person, so he moved to the front where he could see what was happening. When he reached the scene, he saw medics bent over a prone form on the ground, working on her. One of them stood up. “We can’t do anymore here. We’ve got to get her into the infirmary.” The other medic stood up to get the anti-gravity stretcher waiting nearby. It was then that Apollo got a good look at the cadet, and he froze in shock.

It was the woman he saw in his mind. Suddenly the vision he had became clear… she was obviously panicked because she was falling. The wind he felt was the air hitting her as she fell. He snapped out of his shock enough to speak. “What happened here?”

The question wasn’t aimed at anyone in general, but one of the medics heard him and assumed he was talking to him. Due to his appearance, the medic thought he was an instructor… one of the benefits of Apollo’s situation. “Her friend said they were doing a science experiment on the roof. Gust of wind came and knocked her off. Poor girl. I hope we can save her.” That was all he could say, because they were ready to take her away.

The crowd started thinning out. Skip came over to Apollo. “Let’s go, buddy. Show’s over.”

He put his hand on Apollo’s arm to guide him away. Apollo wouldn’t budge at first; he was staring at the blood-stained spot where the cadet had been picked up. “Come on,” he said, putting a little more effort into it. “It’s over.” Apollo reluctantly started moving with Skip toward the dormitory.

Once in their room, Skip spoke up. “Hey, Apollo, lighten up. I mean, sure, that scene was horrible, but I didn’t think you’d be this affected by it. Haven’t you seen anything like that before?”

Apollo sat on his bed but stared at the floor. “That’s not the point,” he said absently.

“What do you mean, that’s not the point?” he shrugged. “Look, we’ve got the best doctors available here. I’m sure they…”

“I saw it.”

“Of course you saw it, you were standing right next to me.” Skip then leered at his friend. “Wait a minute… Is this you talking weird to me again?”

Apollo looked up; Skip saw a haunted expression on his friend’s face. “I saw it. I could have stopped it.”

Skip shook his head. “You couldn’t have seen it. You showed up just a couple minutes after I did, and I just got out of class myself. How could you have stopped it?”

Apollo didn’t say anything else. He just stared at the wall, trying to figure out for himself just what he meant by what he said.

~ * ~

Later that night, Apollo showed up at the infirmary. When asked why he was there, he said he had wanted to see the cadet they brought in just this afternoon. The medic on duty went to his terminal. “Let’s see,” he mused poring over the names on his list. “Ah, here we are. Samantha Taylor. Boy, she was a lucky woman, I tell you. It was touch and go for a while, but the docs pulled her through. But I can guarantee she won’t be up and around for a while. Do you know her?”

“In a way,” Apollo said absently.

“Well, I don’t suppose it would hurt for you to see her. She’s sleeping, so she won’t be able to talk. I suppose I can let you stay for a few minutes.” He showed Apollo what room she was in, then shook his head slowly as he watched the cadet walk down the small corridor. He had heard about Apollo just like everyone else has, so he had no idea why this guy was so interested in her.

Apollo reached her room. She was lying peacefully in the bed, the top of her head wrapped in bandages; she didn’t give any indication that she had seen Apollo, so he figured the medic was right, that she was sleeping. He walked up to her bedside; not knowing what else to do, he gently took her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but I wish that I had recognized what I had seen earlier today for what it was. I would have been able to help you. I hope you can forgive me.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze. Though she was still asleep, her hand responded and squeezed back. Apollo didn’t know whether or not to take it as a sign of forgiveness, but he could think of nothing else to say. He laid her hand back on the bed and departed as silently as he arrived.

~ * ~

Apollo and Skip were having lunch at a restaurant outside of the Academy, talking of future options. Skip put on his best parental expression. “So, my son,” he quipped. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Apollo rolled his eyes at his friend and laughed. “‘Son’?” he scoffed, “Listen to you. I’ll have you know that I do have a few years over you, you know.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it. You think it’s easy for me to try to overlook the fact that my fellow roomie and classmate is old enough to be my many-times-great grandfather? The thing that cracks me up is that you don’t act your age.”

“Hah. If I did that, I’d be dead. I don’t think all you want is a roommate who does nothing but lie around and stink up the place.”

Skip chuckled. “I thought you already did that.” He got a roll in his face for that remark. Their laughter died down. “But seriously, what were you thinking of doing when you graduated?”

“Honestly?” Apollo said. Upon hearing the question, he immediately composed himself and thought about it. “You know, I was thinking of transferring to Starfleet Medical, become a doctor.”

Skip shook his head; it was his turn to roll his eyes. “I know where this is heading. Apollo, that was over two months ago. You told me yourself that you found out she was going to be fine. There’s nothing you could’ve done for her. Let it rest.” They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Besides,” Skip continued, “I don’t see you as a doctor.”

Apollo sat back and crossed his arms. “Oh, you don’t, do you. Well, tell me, Oh Great Bird of the Galaxy, what, pray tell, do you see me doing?”

Skip smiled. “Janitor on a cargo freighter.” He ducked as another roll went whizzing past his head.

“No, seriously.” Skip leaned forward and gazed intently at Apollo. “You look like the type of person who…” he trailed off, fully concentrating, as if he was trying to see through his friend. “Well you’re not the type who likes to take orders. I mean, you’ll follow orders; you seem to have a fierce loyalty. But… if you had the choice of whether to lead or to follow, you’d lead. You’ve just got that ‘take charge’ type of personality.”

Apollo smirked. “Wouldn’t everyone take that choice?”

Skip shook his head. “No, not really. Lots of people might claim that they were natural-born leaders, but at the first sign of trouble, they’d be running with their tails between their legs. Now me, for example… I don’t think I’d be too comfortable with command. Quite frankly, it scares me, being responsible for other people.” He paused for a moment, his expression turning serious. “But I can tell you this, Apollo… if you were the man I had to serve under, I think I’d be proud to do so.”

Apollo smiled, touched by Skip’s sentiment. Then he blurted out, “Pilot.”

“What?” Skip said.

“I said, ‘pilot’. I think I’d like to be a pilot,” he replied, looking at the sky. A shuttle chose that moment to fly overhead, enhancing Apollo’s decision.

“You’re dreaming,” Skip said. He reached for the rolls to toss one at his friend, but Apollo reached out, without looking down, and moved it out of Skip’s reach.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve been watching Nova Squadron when they take off for their practice runs. I think I could pull it off.”

Skip saw the serious look in Apollo’s eyes. “Look, no one just simply ‘pulls off’ what Nova Squadron can do in those things. You’d have to be a pretty good pilot to do what they do.”

Apollo held up a finger. “Ah, but you see, I do have the experience. Or haven’t you seen the craft that the Vulcans pulled me out of when they found me?” He knew very well that Skip did. Shortly after Apollo returned to Earth, he found out a Vulcan ship had arrived and donated his Starfighter 1 to the Federation Museum in New Chicago. Not soon after that, he had dragged Skip there to look at it. Recalling how the boy had crawled all over it, he had a good idea what field Skip was going into.

“You’re right. If you flew that antique, you can do anything.” Skip looked at Apollo’s expression, and realized that he was dead serious. “Okay, okay. I have contacts who could check on it, but don’t hold your breath.”

Apollo smiled. “Thanks a lot. I mean it.”

Suddenly Skip wasn’t looking at Apollo anymore, but past him. “Whoa, bud. Speaking of holding your breath.”

Apollo turned around to see what Skip was staring at. He saw Samantha Taylor walking along the buildings across from where they were sitting with a couple of her friends. They were clearly happy she was on her feet again and they were talking animatedly with each other. Then she spotted the two of them and, excusing herself from her friends, headed in their direction.

Skip tried to put his eyes back in his head. “Whoa. She’s coming this way. Say,” he said in realization, “isn’t that…”

Apollo nodded wordlessly, nervously, watching as she approached them. She was about medium height with a slight frame. Her delicate face was framed by short, sandy blond hair, and emphasized by blue eyes. Sam was quick with a smile and it was clear it left an impression on those who saw her.

Apollo looked at Skip, who saw the message in his friend’s face. “Just when you think you know a guy…” Skip kidded. “Okay, I’ll see you back on campus.” He stood up just as she reached their table.

“Hi. Mind if I join you?” she asked cheerfully.

Skip offered her his chair. “I’m sure my friend here won’t mind. Me, I’ve got to get going. Got a lot of studying to do. No offense, but I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” she replied. “Nice seeing you.” She gave him a short wave.

Skip waved back, but when she turned back around, he looked at Apollo, winked, and gave him a thumbs-up sign. Apollo waved him off without making it look like he was waving him off. Then he turned to face her.

“Hi,” she said, “I’m Samantha.”

“I know,” he replied. She looked at him with a mix of puzzlement and recognition. “I mean, I heard that it was you who… who…” he stopped, realizing that he just put his foot in his mouth. “How are you doing?”

She suddenly understood what he was referring to. “The infirmary gave me a clean bill of health three days ago. I was trying to catch up on my studies, but they’re proving a bit more daunting than I expected.” She looked down, feeling a bit apprehensive. “I, uh, understand that you’re something of the brainy type around here.”

He was startled when he realized what she was asking. But rather than jump to conclusions, he figured that he’d let her finish. “Uh, yes, there’s been rumors to that effect.”

“Well, you see, my roommate is intelligent enough and all, but she has studies of her own to worry about.”

“I have my own studies as well.”

“But you don’t worry about them much, do you.”

“No.”

They both realized that such rapid-fire exchanges weren’t going to get either of them anywhere, so they fell silent for a moment. She then continued, “Would you be willing to take on a little extra work? Could you tutor me?”

Apollo knew it was what she wanted to ask, but he was still affected by the question. “Well, I don’t…”

“It would only be until I can get caught up, and believe me, I’m a fast learner. I’d even pay you… I mean, I don’t have many liberty passes, but if it means you could help me get back on track…” she blurted out, interrupting him. Sam gave him a pleading look.

He took it in stride and continued as though she didn’t speak out, “…see any problem with that. And you needn’t worry about payment, I assure you. I am at your service.”

She beamed. “Thanks. It really means a lot to me. I mean, one doesn’t get to be a top-notch science officer by falling behind.”

They both smiled at each other, then Apollo stood up. “Well, if we’re to catch you up, I suppose we’d better get started.” He gestured, and she got up and walked alongside him toward the campus. “Besides, you could probably help me catch up as well.”

She nodded. “Sure. What do you need help with?”

“History. Specifically, events ranging from the mid-21^st century to the present time,” he replied. “I kind of skipped that subject, if you know what I mean.”

She smiled and nodded again, and they walked in silence. When they reached the campus grounds, she turned to him again. “Are you really part Vulcan?”

He looked at her, purposely arching an eyebrow and causing her to giggle. “Now where have you heard that one?” He smiled when she shrugged at the rumor. “No, I only studied on Vulcan before coming here. You understand, their records on Earth history is somewhat… limited compared to Starfleet records.”

“Oh, of course. I understand completely.” More silence. Apollo could tell that she wanted to tell him something else, but as before, he would simply wait until she felt that it was right to bring it up. Unlike before, however, he had no idea what she wanted to say.

~ * ~

They had been at it for hours. Four weeks ago… two weeks into their study sessions… Samantha had started to realize just what she was asking when she wanted Apollo to tutor her. She should have realized that having studied at the Vulcan Science Academy, the foremost subject that he would have no problem with is science. During those three days between the time the infirmary let her go and the time she confronted Apollo, she did a little research on how she could best catch up with her studies. A tutor was her best shot, and she’d heard that Apollo was the best choice in that area.

She managed to chat a little with Apollo’s instructors; seeing someone finally taking an interest in their isolated pupil, they were more than happy to cooperate. They told her that he had an impeccable record at the Academy, and when he was on Vulcan, he had graduated with high honors. She knew it was very rare, though she never actually heard of an instance where a Vulcan had given a non-Vulcan such a compliment as they gave Apollo; a Vulcan telling a human that they had a good grasp of science was like Zefram Cochrane telling a farm boy that he had a good grasp of warp drive principles. She knew by approaching Apollo that she couldn’t have asked for a better student to tutor her. Granted, he was a bit of a taskmaster at times, but she was willing to endure if it meant not being held back a year. Besides, something told her that he was familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place it.

He had come to her dorm room shortly after their last classes let out. Sam had to admit that despite his academic attitude, he didn’t suffer in the looks department, which made studying with him easier. And he wasn’t kidding when he told her his knowledge with Earth’s recent history was a bit sparse. She tried tutoring him like he did her, but his mind soaked up information like a sponge. It wasn’t long before he could have taught her about those years.

It slowly grew dark outside her window. She was so wrapped up in her musing that she didn’t realize Apollo was asking her a question until she saw him looking intently at her.

“Excuse me, could you repeat that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What is the warp drive intermix ratio between matter and anti-matter?”

She was about to spit out an answer when she stopped herself. “Wait a minute, that’s a trick question. There can only be one ratio, one to one.”

“Correct.” Apollo thought a moment, then put down his padd. “Are you all right? You seemed to have stepped out for a moment.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She almost had success with stifling a yawn, then she smiled with embarrassment. “Okay, I guess I am a little tired. Nothing against you, trust me. It’s just that I haven’t slept well lately. I’ve been trying to piece together this puzzle I have in my mind.”

“Oh? Any way I can help?”

“I don’t think so. Just something I feel I should be able to remember, but I can’t.”

He studied her for a moment. “I’ve been pushing too hard. I’m sorry. I should have seen that you were getting tired and stopped a while ago.” He got up to leave.

Recognition snapped into her senses. “Wait, wait a minute. What did you just say?”

He looked at her, puzzled. “I said I was sorry.” He picked up his padd. “It’s getting late. If you’d like, I can tutor you tomorrow after my classes. I hope you’ll forgive me if we stop here.” He turned to go.

“It’s you.” she said quietly, then more firmly, “You were the one.” Apollo stopped halfway toward the door and turned around. She had a look on her face as if a door had been opened. “In the infirmary, a medic told me that a cadet came to see me. I remember hearing someone talk to me… when I was lying there in that room. I asked the medic who it was, but he wouldn’t say. It was you who visited me, wasn’t it?”

Apollo didn’t speak for a couple of moments. Samantha was clearly waiting for an answer, though. He sighed. “Yes. Yes, I showed up at the infirmary. I simply felt that I had to see you.”

Samantha would normally be touched, but she was confused. “Why? From what I gathered, you weren’t that outgoing. Why did you visit me? And why when I was in that condition?”

“I should go,” he said, and made for the door. Samantha surprised him by grabbing his arm and using it to pull herself forward until she was blocking his way.

“Why did you visit me?” She wasn’t going to back down. “I deserve an answer!”

Apollo studied the situation. Samantha looked like she bordered between confusion and anger. He decided that he had no choice. “I went to see you… because I saw you fall. And I didn’t do anything to prevent it.”

If Samantha wasn’t confused before, she sure was now. “What do you mean, you saw me fall? There was no one around to…”

Apollo cut her off. “I saw you fall… before you fell. I just… didn’t realize it at the time.” She could clearly tell that it was costing him a great deal to reveal this. She wanted to say something, but decided against it. Seeing this decision in her eyes, Apollo elaborated. “It seems that I have this precognitive ability. I Saw you falling, in my mind…” she noted the emphasis he used on ‘saw’, “but at the time, I had no idea what the image was or what it meant. I was going to study it later, but I never got the chance. Apparently, the reasons for my visions showed themselves to me. I’m just sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m sorry.”

Samantha was too stunned to talk, too stunned to move. As such, she was unable to stop Apollo from moving around her and out the door.

Author: Apollo Racer
Title: Origins
Email: fltadmracer@hotmail.com
Characters: New Crew/Star Trek: TOS/Star Trek TOS: Animated Series.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a bizarre twist of fate, a young man from the 21st century is trapped
in a frozen coffin as he drifts along the tides of time to be awakened 200 years
later.

Chapter Two

Curse this Vulcan heat, Apollo swore to himself, not for the first time that day. Four years on this world and it still gets to me. What he neglected to remind himself, however, was the fact that it was now in the middle of their summer, and that even the most frigid of Vulcan manners would have thawed out under 40 Eridani’s heat. During the milder climates (still uncomfortable under human standards), he heard many an offworlder mutter behind his back about green blood coursing through his veins. Apollo always knew that he adapted to different climates with relative ease, so he had to smile at his colleagues’ comments.

He was walking across a courtyard on his way to the Vulcan Science Academy. Science was one of his strong points, so it was small wonder that his advancement in his class had earned him the respect of his peers and the approval of his instructors. The courses were still quite difficult – Captain T’Vek made no boast that their facility was superior; it was plain fact – but then again, Apollo loved a challenge. Approaching the classroom where the last of his studies for the day would be carried out, he was mildly surprised to see his instructor and sponsor waiting for him outside the room. “Sarek,” Apollo stated, in fluent Vulcan and with his hand held up in the formal greeting.

“Greetings, Apollo,” Sarek replied, returning the gesture. He then gestured down the corridor. “I would speak with you.” He started walking down the hall, Apollo lengthening his stride to catch up.

Once beside his teacher, Apollo attempted to convey his thoughts. “If there is a problem with my studies…”

Sarek shook his head. “Your studies are impressive, as they had been since shortly after your arrival. In fact, your control over your mental abilities are excellent. The matter of which I speak is more important.” He paused. “Apollo, you have been here for four Standard years, is this not correct?” Apollo merely nodded, unsure as to where this was leading. Sarek noticed his expression and continued. “I feel that your studies at the Academy can no longer advance with any significance here.”

Apollo couldn’t believe what he heard. “That isn’t possible, T’Kahr. I still have so much to learn here,” he said, his control wavering.

Sarek gave Apollo a sidelong glance, but overlooked his outburst. “Yes, I must agree. You still have much to learn.” He stopped and turned to face his pupil. “However, I feel that you should be given an opportunity to learn more from the planet of your origin.” Sarek paused, letting the information sink in. “I am leaving Vulcan for Earth in 5.73 Standard days, to resume my duties as ambassador there. I would consider it an honor if you would accompany me.”

Apollo stood there, almost dumbstruck. “With all due respect, T’Kahr, I believe the honor would fall upon me.” He dropped some of his formality. “I have been a bit homesick, haven’t I?”

Sarek gave him a slight tilt of his head, the Vulcan equivalent of a shrug. “Your restlessness has been… communicated,” he said matter-of-factly.

Apollo smiled, knowing that within the last six months, he had difficulty trying to hide the fact that he was thinking more and more about what Earth was like. All too quickly, though, his thoughts turned dim, and the smile faded. “Except that Earth really isn’t home for me any longer, is it. No matter how much I’ve learned here, I’ll still be out-of-place when I set foot there.”

“You will adapt to it, as you have adapted to Vulcan. Besides, there is an old Vulcan proverb. ‘The task left unattended today will only need to be attended to on the next day.”

Apollo looked suspiciously at him. “That sounds an awful lot like a saying I had once heard from my time. ‘Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today’.”

Sarek’s eyebrows raised. “Did I not just say that?”

Apollo grinned. If Sarek weren’t Vulcan, he’d have punched him in the arm. Instead he merely said, “Very well. I’ll go with you to Earth. It should be quite interesting to see how much the place has changed without me.”

~ * ~

The trip from Vulcan to Earth was uneventful… after all, Vulcans weren’t known for their small talk. There were times Apollo asked Sarek what the instructor’s ambassadorial duties would entail. Sarek was vague, yet he still managed to satisfy Apollo’s curiosity. When the human wasn’t badgering people for information, he found himself a viewport to stare outside. Watching the illusion of stars streaking past the ship at warp speed, he couldn’t help but be amazed at how he managed to make it this far into space. If only Dad could see me now… he thought with a twinge of sadness. I’m sure he’d be proud of me for what I’ve accomplished in these four short years. But I do wish he could have seen it. One of the things Apollo had tried to do was access any records the Vulcans might have had about Earth’s past. Unfortunately, they didn’t have many around the time of Zephram Cochrane’s flight, and virtually nothing that took place before that time. It was one of the few things he looked forward to upon arriving on Earth.

When they reached Earth, Apollo had some expectations of how it would have improved. After all, he mused, they wouldn’t have been able to become a founding member of this Federation if they hadn’t advanced from where they were when I last set foot on this planet. He frowned to himself. That’s another thing. I have to stop thinking of this place as an alien world. Like it or not, I’m in this century for the duration, and I still came from here.

“You must forgive me. I had forgotten that you have not been here since before even I was born.”

Apollo cleared his head of mist. “Excuse me?” he asked Sarek, for it was obvious that he hadn’t heard what his mentor had said.

Sarek nodded. “I had noticed the look of wonderment on your face and mentioned that you truly must have missed your world, but I neglected to recall that, technically, your homeworld is over 200 years in the past. I suspect that this place is as alien to you as any other place.”

Apollo gravely considered what Sarek had just told him. “Indeed, you are correct, T’Kahr. I am a stranger here.” He sighed. “A stranger in a familiar land.”

If Sarek were human, he would have smiled; instead, he had the look that Apollo had recognized as bemusement. “Ah, but therein lies the challenge. You must put behind you what you knew of your world. It will hamper your efforts to get to know this one better.”

“Wise words as always, T’Kahr. I will attempt to live by them.” By now, the crowd at the spaceport had thinned out a bit, enough for them to travel through. “Shall we?” Apollo said, gesturing to the doors on the other side of the room.

“Indeed. We do not wish to keep Starfleet waiting.” On the way to San Francisco, where Starfleet was headquartered, they had discussed several options to continue Apollo’s education. Apollo felt that Starfleet Academy held the best opportunity for him to catch up on what he missed over the past 200 years.

Without further hesitation, now that Sarek’s entourage had reunited, they headed out the doors.

~ * ~

The first stop was the Vulcan embassy. There Sarek’s aides had efficiently stashed their possessions in their appropriate locations. While they arranged everything for Sarek, he and Apollo headed over to Starfleet Command.

Apollo had to note, ironically, that Starfleet’s Command complex sat on the very site of the United Earth Space Command center. He even recognized a couple of the buildings; of course, some of those buildings were currently the sites of museums, now. Aside from recognition, apprehension was also in the front of Apollo’s mind. It’s so huge, he thought, and so busy. He suddenly remembered his actions on the Surak those four years ago, and kept his astonishment well concealed.

They entered the vast complex and stepped into the nearest turbolift. Silence accompanied them on the ride up to the flag officers’ levels. When they entered the fleet admiral’s reception area, a young lieutenant in a command gold tunic stood up. Seeing and recognizing the Vulcan, he wasn’t sure whether or not to salute or do something Vulcan, so he just stood there. “Well trained, isn’t he?” Apollo muttered.

Sarek dismissed his protege’s remark with a raised eyebrow and spoke to the officer. “Lieutenant, is Admiral Komack in? He has been expecting us.”

The lieutenant, finally able to do something, blurted out, “Yes, yes sir, Ambassador, I’ll let him know you’re here.” He pressed the intercom button on his desk, “Admiral, Ambassador Sarek and his aide to see you, sir.” Apollo’s mouth quirked upward at being labelled an aide.

“Send them in,” replied a voice on the intercom. Sarek gestured to Apollo, and they both entered the inner office.

Admiral Komack stood up from behind his desk as they entered. He gave Sarek the formal split-fingered salute. “Greetings, Ambassador. It’s an honor to meet with you again.”

Sarek mirrored the salute and nodded. “The honor is mutual, Admiral.”

Komack then looked at Apollo. “So, this must be the man you talked with me about.” He offered his hand to Apollo, who, after a moment’s hesitation, shook it. “I’m Admiral Philip Komack.”

“Apollo Racer,” he simply replied.

Komack gestured to the seats in front of the desk. Sarek and Apollo took them, and Komack sat at the same time. “Apollo, from what I understand, you took a nice little trip.”

Apollo, having spent four years on Vulcan, learned their ability to raise an eyebrow at an obvious and/or confusing remark. He used this talent now. “The trip to Earth was pretty much uneventful.”

Komack closed his eyes and counted to five, slowly. “I meant that I understand that you’ve had an experience in time travel.”

Apollo’s face lit up with comprehension. “Ah, you mean how the Vulcans found me. No, I never actually traveled through time. I was simply in a state of suspended animation until I was revived.” Sarek understood that Apollo wasn’t simply trying to emulate a Vulcan attitude; he was using humor, though there was truth in what he said. The admiral didn’t know this, and Sarek felt a little amusement in figuring out the joke, thus participating in it, since Apollo knew that he wouldn’t tell Komack.

This time Komack counted to ten. “I… see.” he said, as politely as possible. “And that makes you how old?”

“Approximately 247.13 Standard years,” Apollo replied.

Komack sighed. He’s been with those Vulcans for too long, he thought. He then smiled. “Funny, you don’t look a day over 200.” Apollo merely looked at Sarek and smirked, recalling that he had said precisely that to Selek on the Surak. He let Komack continue. “I also understand that you have discussed with Sarek about joining Starfleet.”

Okay, Apollo thought, this is where I get serious. “Yes, sir. I’ve realized that after studying on Vulcan, I would be much better off completing my education on Earth. After all, this is originally where I’m from. Besides, even… back in my time… I felt that my place was out there among the stars. I had really hoped to get back there some day.”

“I completely understand that. Tell me, when you were first discovered, why didn’t you come back to Earth in the first place?” the admiral asked, quite innocently.

Apollo contemplated telling him about what he could do. To be sure, he looked at Sarek, but got a look from his mentor discouraging him from mentioning what he had on his mind. He then did something he had been practicing; something that took Sarek completely by surprise. :Why can I not tell him, T’Kahr?:

Sarek took the shock in stride, and showed no outward sign of his startlement. :The admiral does not know,: he responded, :and I do not wish him to know.:

The entire exchange took only a couple of seconds. At the time, Apollo looked to Komack as if he was trying to properly word his response, which he was. “I… really don’t know. I guess at the time, I was still a bit disoriented, aside from a little shocked, at what had happened to me. The Vulcans brought themselves across to me as an intelligent people who knew what was going on in the world… pardon me, galaxy. I figured it would be… logical… to learn what I could from them. After all, they did save my life. I would have felt at odds if I told them to just drop me off at Earth and tell them ‘So long, guys. Thanks for the ride home.'”

Komack sat back in his chair, contemplating the answer. “You know, I wish I could say that I probably would have done the same thing. Unfortunately, I don’t think either I or anyone else has been in your situation. I do know one thing; I’m quite sure that our scientists and historians would love to get their hands on you, to compare your personal experiences of that time period with the data they have about it, that is if you don’t mind. And I think that somewhere between their prodding and poking we can fit Academy training into the equation. How does that sound?”

Now it was Apollo’s turn to contemplate the admiral’s words. It sounded very intriguing. He didn’t care much for the prodding end of the deal, but he was sure that he could work his way through that. “I don’t see much of a problem with it. I do have one question, though, and I don’t mean to nit-pick for an advantage over everyone else. But back in the United Earth Forces, I held the rank of Captain. I don’t suppose that it would have any bearing over my current status, would it?”

“That’s a good question. I’ll have to check on that.” The reply smacked of diplomatic-speak for “not a chance in hell,” but he knew the admiral wouldn’t say that. At least, not in front of Sarek. “But for now,” Komack stood up, implying the end of their meeting, so the others stood as well, “I welcome you both back to Earth.” He reached out, shook Apollo’s hand again, then straightened and gave the Vulcan salute again. “Good luck, Apollo. Peace and long life, Ambassador.”

Sarek said, “Live long and prosper, Admiral,” and they exited the office.

Once outside, Apollo turned to Sarek. “Why did you not want me to let Admiral Komack know about my mental abilities?”

“Why did you not tell me that you were telepathic?”

“I asked you first,” Apollo said, a little defiant. When he realized that tactic wouldn’t cause Sarek to budge, he grimaced. “I didn’t want to tell you about something I wasn’t sure I could do until I knew that I could do it right.”

Sarek raised an eyebrow. “When did you find out that you could project successfully?”

Apollo grinned sheepishly. “Back in Komack’s office.”

Sarek sighed. Four years on Vulcan and he still has the remarkable talent to be elegantly illogical. He then answered the question he had been asked. “I did not wish you to tell the admiral about your abilities because it would give the scientists that much more to analyze. It is enough that they will be taking your time to ask questions about your background, about your time. If they knew about your abilities, you would not have any time for the Academy. They will still discover that you have a high psi factor, but I do not think they will be able to tell that your talents are more than potential.”

“I cannot lie to them about what I can do.”

“This is true, but you can discourage them from asking the proper questions that would force you to reveal what you can do. Besides, your talents do affect you on a personal level. If they realize that, they will not probe further.”

Apollo mulled that thought around in his head a little. “You’re right. They can’t find out anything I don’t want them to.”

“Precisely. Now come. I have much work to do to prepare for tomorrow’s appointments. I would be privileged if you could help me in the preparation.”

“The honor is mine, T’Kahr.”

Sarek stopped and faced Apollo. “I believe that title is no longer appropriate. You have surpassed what I can teach you. Aside from the Academy, from here on out, you are your own T’Kahr.”

Apollo nodded in agreement as they headed for the embassy.

Author: Apollo Racer
Title: Origins
Email: fltadmracer@hotmail.com
Characters: New Crew/Star Trek: TOS/Star Trek TOS: Animated Series.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a bizarre twist of fate, a young man from the 21st century is trapped
in a frozen coffin as he drifts along the tides of time to be awakened 200 years
later.

Chapter One

Approximately 220 years later:

The Vulcan science vessel Surak was heading home after five years of exploration. True to their curious nature, the ship’s crew decided to take an uncharted route home, providing a mission of maximum efficiency and results.

T’Vek sat in her chair in the rear of the bridge, surveying the officers there with her. She had heard that the captains on the Starfleet ships considered themselves proud of their crews. As a Vulcan, T’Vek would never admit to such a human emotion as pride, though she did consider her people exceptional.

Presently, they were approaching a cometary fragment. Usually, if a comet breaks up, the fragments remain in the system’s oort cloud until they form a new comet or their altered orbit brings them into a planet’s gravitational well. This particular fragment, however, appeared to have gone rogue. It had been drifting through open space for quite some time. T’Vek wanted to make sure it didn’t pass through any inhabited systems, and was prepared to destroy it if there was any threat.

A flashing light in T’Vek’s peripheral vision caught her attention, and she turned toward the source. As she did so, her “science” officer (they were, in fact, all science officers… this Vulcan just happened to have the job of monitoring the sensors) turned toward the viewer. “There is something metallic inside this fragment. From our sensor readings, it appears to be….” He looked up, then gazed back into the scanner, as though to double-check his findings. “Captain, there is a vessel inside the fragment.”

T’Vek’s eyebrow rose. “A vessel? Are you certain?”

“Yes, captain. And more intriguing is that we are reading a lifesign from within the vessel. It is faint, but it exists.”

T’Vek stood to approach the science station. “An unpowered vessel housing a life form?” She looked toward the screen. “Curious,” she concluded, with just the exact amount of dramatics needed for the situation. “Does it pose a danger to us?”

“Negative. Radiation is within normal levels. The vessel has primitive thrust capabilities and pulse laser cannons. It is small, perhaps only made for one person.”

T’Vek nodded. “And yet we have the mystery of this life form. Is it small enough for our cargo bay?”

The science officer nodded. “We may have to carve some of the ice away, but it will fit.”

She turned once again toward the screen, going over every logical course of action in her mind. Only when she reached a decision did she speak again. “Very well. Helm, use our phasers to remove as much ice from the exterior as possible without damaging the craft itself. Then activate the tractor beam and bring it aboard. We shall try to ascertain what we can from this vessel.” The helm complied, and soon threads of light lanced out, slicing bits of cometary ice away. When what remained was the rough shape of the derelict, a faint shadow of light connected themselves with the it, drawing it towards their ship.

~ * ~

The first thing Apollo saw when he opened his eyes was the ceiling of some room. He assumed that he was in a hospital, because upon glancing from side to side he could see beds all along the walls, but this was no hospital like he had ever seen before. He tried to rise and found he met with resistance. He looked down at himself and saw that he was strapped down. Had whoever rescued Apollo deemed him a threat? Unfortunately, no one was present for him to protest his treatment.

As though in response to his thought, the door at the far end of the room slid open with a shoosh (shoosh?, he thought), and someone came through. He stood over him with what looked to be some sort of scanning device, but it, like the hospital, was like nothing he had ever seen. The person took the readings and turned to face someone else who just entered. It was then that Apollo noticed the pointed, upswept ears. He thought the two people were talking, but he couldn’t understand anything of what they were saying, and he was fluent in every major language on Earth. He tried to get their attention by using first one dialect, then another. He even tried to combine a couple of them, though it came out really horrible. Finally, he got frustrated and did what he should have done in the first place. “Hey!” he yelled, “What does a guy have to do to get attention around here?”

The two aliens turned toward Apollo and did something totally unexpected to him. “Are you delirious?”

It wasn’t so much the question that caught him off guard, but rather the fact that he could understand them. Therefore, all he could reply with was, “Huh?”

The strange man mused the situation. “Perhaps you’ve sustained some form of brain damage. You sounded as though you were cycling though the various Terran languages. Can you understand me?”

It finally occurred to Apollo’s brain to send a message to his gaping jaw to utter some words. “You speak English?”

They looked at each other. “Of course,” the other one said matter-of-factly. “But the accurate term is ‘Federation Standard’.”

“Say what?” Apollo said, trying not to sound too stupid, though failing miserably.

The other two moved away from him and spoke among themselves. After a few minutes, one of them returned to him and said, “Do you not realize you are not from this region of space?”

Apollo could only shake his head, an idle thought going through his head, that sounded a lot like “You’re not from around here, are you.”

He decided to explain his patient’s situation to him. “I am Selek… a healer, as you have probably deduced. My assistant is T’Less. From the information we have gathered about you, you are a Terran male, approximately 26 of your years of age. You seem to be in excellent physical condition, which indicates that you maintained an adequate regimen of exercise and that your body was well preserved. All your senses seem to work normally….”

Something clicked in Apollo’s head, clearing the fog in his mind. What a minute, what did he just say? “Whoa, whoa, back up a minute. What did you just tell me?”

“I said your senses seem to be…”

“No, before that.”

“I said you were well preserved.”

Apollo hesitated. “Well preserved,” he repeated.

“Yes.” Selek said stoically. Apollo’s eyes took on a glazed look. The two physicians looked at each other in a way that confirmed it all. It was a look of realizing how much their patient truly didn’t know. At a nod from Selek, T’Less released the straps from Apollo, then she left the room. Once she did that, Apollo carefully tested himself, sitting up slowly, then he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his wrists to get circulation back into his hands, all this while being observed by Selek. Apollo hopped off the bed; he staggered a little, and Selek stepped toward him. But he waved the doctor off and managed to stand on his own. Once Selek was satisfied that Apollo was steady enough, he gestured toward an open doorway, and Apollo slowly followed him through.

He had entered a small office. There was a desk and two chairs, with what appeared to be a computer built into a corner of the desk. What looked to the pilot to be floppy disks of various colors were neatly stacked to one side of the computer. With another gesture from Selek, Apollo took the seat in front of the desk, while the doctor sat down behind the desk. He then sat there, staring through steepled fingers at Apollo, who was feeling a bit uncomfortable about now. After what seemed like hours, Selek sat up. “You must understand that I have never experienced such a situation as this. It is difficult to find the words to explain it.”

Apollo got a little irritated. “Look,” he said, “I’ve never been one to enjoy people beating around the bush with me. Just get down to the nitty-gritty.”

An eyebrow shot up on Selek’s head. “‘Beating around the bush’? ‘Nitty… gritty’? I do not understand.”

He sure looks genuinely confused, Apollo thought, so he took a deep breath. “Beating around the bush… you know, when people are afraid of telling me something that I may not like or understand, so they stretch the truth a bit, or they leave out a minor detail or two to make it sound better. The best way you can get on my good side is to give me straight answers and leave how I interpret it up to me.”

Selek sat back, his other eyebrow joining the one that previously entered his hairline. “Fascinating. What a remarkably open outlook for a Terran to have. Very well… I would certainly wish to start out… ‘on your good side.'” He leaned in closer, as if getting ready to tell a secret. “First of all, let me say that it was always my intention to tell the truth, since it is against a Vulcan’s principles to lie. I am merely trying to deduce the proper method of informing you of your situation with a minimal amount of stress on your part.”

“A Vulcan.”

“Yes. That is what you Terrans call our race. When we first discovered your race, we found that you couldn’t pronounce our name. So after some discussion we found that your term, ‘Vulcan,’ seemed the most appropriate.” He paused to allow Apollo to register the tidbit of information before getting back on track. “You were found adrift inside a cometary fragment. All systems on your vessel were shut down and you were in a form of stasis. The substances within the fragment apparently worked as a cryogenic catalyst. At first we were concerned as to how we would revive you. This ship hasn’t had much contact with humans or Starfleet, so your physiology provided us with a minor puzzle. However, once we were certain you were indeed human, we were able to logically deduce your proper vital statistics so we could revive you without causing any harm. Any damage caused by your stasis has been easily repaired.”

The doctor had paused to let all this set into Apollo’s brain. He gave the physician a nod. “Okay… so where does this ‘well-preserved’ part come in? How long have I been in this stasis condition?”

“You must understand, your ship seemed primitive compared to Earth ships we’ve seen. We took the liberty of analyzing it. According to our preliminary results, you had been in stasis for over 200 years.”

Had it been possible for Apollo’s jaw to drop to the floor, it would have done so. As it was, it simply hung loose as a chill made its way up his spine. Apollo stood up and started pacing around the office. When he decided that he didn’t have enough room, he walked out into the main area and paced there. Selek simply followed him. Apollo finally stopped and faced the harbinger of this news. “So what you’re saying is that I’m over 200 years old.”

“Possibly. What was the year you last recall?”

“That’s easy. August of 2047. I’d been looking forward to this test flight.”

Selek replied in the blink of an eye. “You were in stasis for exactly 221.43 years,” he replied.

Apollo didn’t know what to say, so he chuckled. “That’s strange, I don’t feel a day over 200.” He got an odd look from Selek. “That’s a joke. You know, humor?”

Selek thought for a moment, then it registered. “Ah, that is humor. Forgive me, I hadn’t experienced much of that, either.”

“I can tell,” Apollo replied dryly. “You said you’re a Vulcan.”

“That is correct,” Selek said.

“O-kay,” he prompted. “Could you perhaps tell me a little more about yourselves?”

“Certainly,” he said. “We come from a star that Terrans have labeled 40 Eridani. We were once primitive and savage, like you were in your past. However, through the teachings of Surak, whom you could compare to your Moses, we learned to control, if not eliminate, our emotions. Once that was accomplished, peace settled over my people. Late in your 21^st century – shortly after you disappeared, in fact – we discovered that your species had discovered faster-than-light travel, and contacted you with the hopes of establishing a relationship.”

I’ll be damned, Apollo thought, that crazy nut, Cochrane, that I read about wasn’t really so crazy after all.

“At first,” Selek continued, “your people exercised grave caution, but fortunately, our two worlds managed to unite. Together with other worlds, we formed the United Federation of Planets.” He broke off. “Forgive me. This experience has me very intrigued. In addition to leaving out important details that were crucial in the Federation’s development, I have also neglected to inform the captain that you are awake.” Selek walked over to a box on the wall and pressed a button. “Sickbay to Bridge.”

“T’Vek,” was the only response.

“The Terran is awake. Other than being disoriented, he appears to have been unaffected by his time in stasis.”

“Very well, I shall come to speak with him.” The statement sounded like a dismissal.

Apollo decided to butt in. “Excuse me, Captain T’Vek, this is Captain Apollo A. Racer. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate going to you. I have a feeling that it would be appropriate.”

The intercom was silent. Selek took the opportunity to be inquisitive. “Forgive me. ‘Captain’?”

Apollo shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I was a Captain, in the United Earth Forces. But from what I understand, I guess that organization probably no longer exists.”

“You are correct. You have remarkable insight, for a Terran.”

“You mean we’ve gotten dumber over the years? Oh, what did I come back to?” Apollo noted the puzzled expression as a reply and wiped the grin off his face. “Sorry. Another joke. I have a habit of making them when I’m nervous.”

Selek thought about it. “Ah… I see,” was all he said.

“Captain Racer,” said the voice on the intercom, “have Selek escort you to the Bridge.” The intercom went silent again. Apollo thought that it almost sounded as if T’Vek was condescending, as though she thought that it wasn’t important who he said he was.

Selek took that as his cue. He stepped toward the door, and it slid open again. “This way,” he said. Apollo followed him out as the door closed behind him.

As they walked through the corridor, Apollo gawked at his surroundings; it was natural, of course, as he had never been aboard a ship from the future. He also noticed that Selek refrained from talking with him any further; in fact, it almost seemed to him that the Vulcan no longer wanted to be seen with him, and he couldn’t understand why.

They reached a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. They opened, revealing what looked like an elevator. Once they got in, the doors closed, but they didn’t go anywhere. “Hey, where are the buttons on this car? I’m assuming this bridge of yours is on a different floor.”

Selek looked at Apollo for a few moments; then, satisfied that he made his charge a little uncomfortable, he spoke. “Yes, the bridge is seven levels up. There are no buttons because the turbolifts are voice activated. You are no doubt wondering then why we haven’t moved yet.”

“Well, yeah, that would have been my next question,” Apollo said sarcastically.

“I am starting to wonder if it would be appropriate for the captain to speak to you.”

“What!?”

“Throughout our entire walk, you appeared as though you have never been on a ship before.”

“Well, I certainly haven’t been on a ship this big…”

“And your actions are that of a child.”

Apollo’s look could have burned through Selek as well as the turbolift wall. “What do you mean, a child? Are you calling me immature? Hey, look, I didn’t ask for the situation I’m in right now! How the hell can I help it if I was a damn popsicle for over 200 years!?”

“That was 221…”

“I don’t give a damn how many years it was! I’m here now, I’m out of place, and everything’s new to me! The least you could do is give me the courtesy of being astounded by my surroundings! Cripes, what did you expect? I would come out of suspended animation, look around, and say ‘Oh, yes. I understand. It’s perfectly reasonable for me to run into a comet, then wake up in the distant future. It’s all so clear to me now.’ I’m sorry, but we ‘Terrans’ are kind of like that. When we’re suddenly thrown into a totally strange environment, we’re going to be overly curious.” When he finished, Apollo crossed his arms and glared intensely at Selek, as if daring him to have a rebuttal.

He half-expected the Vulcan to do just that. He had experiences where he worked up heads of steam over being wronged, only to have his opponent calmly throw a wet blanket on his temper and undercut his momentum.

He found that he was surprised by Selek’s reply. “My apologies. I was ignoring the circumstances by which you have come to us. You are correct that we should have assumed that since you have journeyed this far into the future, you would not have such technology. Therefore, your reaction would be logical. And… it is said that Vulcans have also been known to be… ‘overly curious’ at times.” He paused, giving Apollo sufficient time to cool down. “Bridge,” he stated.

“Huh?” Apollo said, and the turbolift started moving.

“Bridge. That is the key word that gives the turbolift computer our destination, and it responds by taking us there.”

“Oh,” Apollo said. He felt a little awkward about losing his temper, and vowed that he would maintain a tighter rein on his emotions. After all, if an entire race could do it, why not a simple human?

By the time the lift stopped and the doors opened, Apollo seemed to Selek like a completely different person. There looked to be no trace of the human that had such an emotional outburst before. Selek snapped out of his introspect when the doors opened. Apollo was amazed at the sight of the Bridge, but he tried to keep his astonishment hidden. The chair in the center of the Bridge swiveled around, revealing a rather attractive woman. Apollo decided to clamp down on those thoughts, too.

Selek hesitated a moment. To his relief, Apollo maintained this new demeanor on the bridge. “Captain, this is Apollo Racer.”

T’Vek stood up. Great, she would have to be a babe, Apollo thought. Settle down now. No sense blowing this because of hormones. He had his hand halfway up when she raised hers, palm forward and fingers split in the middle. “Greetings, Captain.”

“Greetings to you, too, Captain,” Apollo said. He brought his hand back down, absently wiping it off on his hip. “This is a very impressive ship you have here.”

T’Vek lifted an eyebrow. “In actuality, this ship is not mine. It belongs to our government.” Remembering that this was a human that she was talking to, she appended, “But thank you.” She sensed that he had apparently noted her hesitation. “Forgive me, but my travels rarely bring me in contact with humans.”

“I understand,” Apollo responded. “My travels didn’t exactly prepare me to contact Vulcans, either.”

Her other eyebrow disappeared under her hair, so he took that as a request to explain. “That was a little joke. Where I come from, we didn’t meet any aliens yet, let alone Vulcans.” Suddenly, he realized that he might possibly have offended her. “But… I guess I’m the alien at the moment.”

“Quite,” was her reply. She started circling the bridge, slowly taking him into perspective. “Do you realize the position you are in, Captain?” she asked.

Apollo gulped. I knew I shouldn’t have said what I did, he chided himself. “Look, I’m sorry about that crack about aliens. I didn’t mean to offend…”

T’Vek stopped her pacing. “I did not take offense to your statement. I was referring to the fact that you are a person from the past. A 21^st century Terran who has survived into the 23^rd century. I dare say such an experience is rather unique.”

“Well, yes, I suppose it is.” Apollo seemed rather puzzled. “Where is this all going?”

T’Vek’s pacing brought her in front of Apollo. “I have received word from Starfleet Command on Earth.” She paused to ensure he understood what she was saying. He didn’t. “That is the equivalent to the United Earth Forces of your time. They informed me that the choice is yours. You may decide to go back to Earth, and reassimilate yourself into society.” He had thought that going back to Earth was his only choice, until she continued, “Or, if you choose, you may return to Vulcan with us. Our facilities are more than adequate to bring you… ‘up-to-date’, as you humans say, to your present surroundings. They are certainly superior to Earth’s facilities.”

If you do say so yourself, Apollo thought, God, what an ego.

“There is also another thing. Perhaps it was caused as a result of your time in stasis. The elements in the source of your suspended animation also had an additional benefit, according to the medical report. You appear to possess a neurochemical in your brain that we’ve identified with certain telepathic species in the past. Our Science Academy on Vulcan would be very useful in exploring this trait, should you choose to go that route.”

Apollo, for some reason, had a difficult time keeping his attention on what she was saying. “Huh? Yeah, I’ve… had occasion to have a… premonition or two… in the past.” Suddenly the floor seemed a bit uncertain to him. Am I a bit feverish or has it always been this hot in here, he asked himself. With that thought, he started swaying. How come the room’s starting to spin?

Selek was there to steady him before he even realized that the doctor had moved. “Forgive me, Captain. In light of this discovery, I neglected to remember that humans are susceptible to our environment. The air here for him is too thin and the temperature too high.”

Apollo nodded weakly. “I wondered… why I was having… a little trouble breathing. This choice you hit me with… isn’t helping any, either. I need… time… to think about it.”

T’Vek nodded. “Understood. I believe that we were all somewhat remiss from our courtesies. As I said, the uniqueness of your situation has caught us off guard. Forgive our oversight.”

The human smiled. “No… offense taken. I know this may… seem strange… since I just woke up… from the longest catnap in history, but I think I need to rest.” On that note, Apollo passed out; Selek caught him before he hit the floor.

“Arrange some quarters for our guest; with the proper environmental adjustments.” T’Vek said, nodding to Selek. He carried Apollo toward the turbolift. “Selek,” she added. When he turned around, she continued, “Inform me when he wakes. I would be interested to speak to him again.” Selek nodded and entered the turbolift with his unconscious patient.

Author: Apollo Racer
Title: Origins
Email: fltadmracer@hotmail.com
Characters: New Crew/Star Trek: TOS/Star Trek TOS: Animated Series.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a bizarre twist of fate, a young man from the 21st century is trapped
in a frozen coffin as he drifts along the tides of time to be awakened 200 years
later.

Prologue

August 6, 2047:

“All systems are go. Pushing it up to full throttle.”

“Roger that, Starfighter 1. Full throttle.”

Apollo Racer gently eased forward the levers in his left hand. He felt his blood rush as the thrust vibrated through his very being. God, I love this, he thought to himself as he watched the planet’s atmosphere fade away around him. He checked his instruments, sure that they would tell him what he wanted to know. They did. “Houston Control, this is Starfighter 1. I’m at full throttle and everything is A-OK.” He looked around at the panoramic vista. “The view is fantastic up here,” he exclaimed.

“So they tell us,” Houston Control replied, sounding rather droll. The pilot laughed, knowing full well that every astronaut who ever went into orbit had said something along those lines. He knew because he was on the last shuttle flight, and a rookie specialist had said the same thing. “Begin extraorbital tests. Oh, and Racer, one more thing. Don’t scare the Martians, and leave the lunar boys alone. They’re still trying to put the final touches on the base there.”

Apollo laughed again. “That’s two things, but I’ll try to keep my mean streak under control. Switching propulsion modes now. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Roger. Houston out.” Apollo switched controls over and cracked his knuckles. He always did that when trying to break in some new system or other. He felt that it relieved tension.

Switching controls was no laughing matter. The airfoils of the experimental new space plane wouldn’t work in space, where there was no air pressure to provide lift. So he would have to rely on reaction control thrusters for maneuvering. The RCS wasn’t that new; they were used on the shuttle. But they’ve never been used on a craft designed to be a fighter. Simulations proved they’d work without tearing the small craft apart, but the practical tests always told the tale. The systems Apollo really wanted to test were the pulse cannons, mounted on the airfoils, and the drive system. According to specs, the drive should be able to push him to about one-half the speed of light. It’d certainly make putting bases on Mars a lot easier.

Currently, he was traveling at one-quarter c, and would reach the moon in about one minute. Despite what he told Houston, he felt a mischievous grin crawl across his face. He laughed one of his horror movie laughs and sped towards the site where construction teams where building the lunar outpost.

Harvey was watching three men place a docking ring on their main dome. Today, if all went well, they would be able to connect all of the domes so they could provide them with a livable environment. It took fifteen years to get where they were at now, and in about six more months, they’d be able to start shipping people up here to work. Harvey had to smile at the accomplishment. He was here when they laid the first foundation, and he would be here to see them put up the new United Earth flag. In a way, the two were connected. The station would symbolize the fact that Earth was finally able to set aside their individual problems of race, color, creed, religion… and concentrate on working together as one proud world.

His fog was dissipated by the sight of a ship coming in too low and too fast. His helmet radio instantly picked up and transmitted his voice to everyone. “Look out! Get down!”

Workers scrambled everywhere as the craft buzzed by them in a blur. When Harvey got up, his face was red, and looked as if it might inflate even more and pop out the faceplate. He switched channels. “Apollo! What in God’s name are you trying to do, kill us all?”

By the time Harvey had picked himself up, Apollo had already swept past the moon, and was gracefully swinging around. Now he was hovering about 100 feet off the ground, facing the disgruntled foreman. “Sorry, Harv, couldn’t resist,” he replied. “Besides, you know that I have to test this craft’s maneuverability. That means making high-speed, low-level passes.”

“Well, couldn’t you just as easily use something that can’t be scared, like rock formations.”

“Nah. Rocks wouldn’t give if I crashed into them.” He waited a moment, knowing Harvey’s reaction, then added, “I’m just kidding. You know I would never do anything that wasn’t completely within my control. Besides, I like you guys too much to kill you.”

Harvey snorted. “Oh, that makes me feel so much better.”

Apollo snickered. He was about to continue his banter when the radio cut him off. “Racer, I thought you promised that you’d leave them alone.”

“I never said that, Control, I merely said I’d try. And I did, too… for a good five seconds.”

“Very funny, Flyboy. Listen, we’d like you to test the sensor package on your craft.”

“Sensors work fine to me, Control,” Apollo answered. What a stupid request, he thought.

Frustration came over the transmission. “No, no, no. Come on, Apollo. You’re supposed to be one of the brightest individuals we have. Stop trying to be cute by acting like a moron.” A sigh registered over the air. “We want you to test the compositional scanners that we installed in Starfighter 1. You know, the ones that tell us what something is made of?”

“Oh! Those sensors! Why didn’t you say so in the first place. Okay. Got it.” Then, as if Apollo had taken a mask off, a more serious tone permeated his voice. “All kidding aside, was there anything in particular that you’d like me to study?”

There was silence on the other end for a moment as the operator wondered if the pilot had a split personality. “Ah, Findley’s Comet is just approaching Venus. It’s fairly new and unstudied in this system. Try to track it down and take some readings.” advised Control.

Apollo nodded, though they couldn’t see him. “Roger that, Control. Punching it now.” He looked toward the lunar surface. “So long, Harvey. Good luck in finishing here.”

“All right, buddy. Be seein’ ya.” But before he could get the last words out, Starfighter 1 took off in a flash, buzzing Harvey again in the process. Though the environmental controls on Harvey’s suit kept him warm, he shivered. Damn hotshot, he thought. If he’s not careful, he’s gonna get himself killed, and then what will his old man think. As the spaceplane became just a twinkle in the sky, he shivered again. I’ve been up here too long. That’s it. Soon as I’m done here, I’m takin’ a vacation. He chuckled at his own stupidity and brought his attention back to his work. “Hey, hey! Watch it! You’re putting that expansion coil on backwards! Flip it over and try it again!”

Five hours later, Apollo caught up with the comet. “All right, Control, I’m within range. Taking sensor readings now.” He knew his transmission would take a few minutes to reach Earth, but he felt as if there was no time to wait. He started scanning the comet, and started speaking to himself, a habit he could never seem to break. “That’s funny. The computer can’t recognize some of the materials in the cloud. Maybe if I move closer, I’ll get a better reading.”

As he accelerated to get a better look, Control tried to call him, though a burst of static made it hard to hear them. “Control to… Starfigh… picking you up… much too close… comet… gravitational fluctuations…. Keep a safe distance.”

“Yeah, yeah. Worrywarts,” Apollo mumbled. He would have listened to them, but he got another impish idea. He thought, What harm could it do? It’d be like a mosquito stinging a hippo, and charged up his pulse cannons. He maneuvered into a good position and touched off a few shots. The energy bolts struck and sizzled in the comet. Apollo laughed at the success.

Suddenly his instruments started behaving erratically. “What the hell?” He looked up at the comet and realized it seemed to be glowing brighter. Was it slowing down, too? He seemed to be getting closer. “Ummm… Control, something… something seems to be going on. I was using the comet for a little target practice, to test my defenses. Somehow…” he studied the readouts again, “somehow the energy from my particle beams activated some element in the comet. It’s giving off some kind of magnetic field.” Then it hit him. “Oh shit… I’m being drawn towards it!”

Bursts of static came over the radio. He couldn’t make out replies enough to know what they were saying. Right now, though, his priority was to try and stop himself from colliding. He adjusted his power settings, giving more juice to his engines, then threw them in reverse. While his forward momentum didn’t stop, it did slow somewhat. The icy face grew larger and larger through his canopy. Apollo braced his legs as though stomping on brake pedals.

A strangled cry escaped him as his ship crunched into the comet’s face. The cockpit compressed and the canopy shattered. If he hadn’t had his suit and helmet on…. Apollo sat there, his heart hammering, as only his instruments provided him with light. He moved his hands over them, amazed that he wasn’t injured, yet relieved that his atmosphere wasn’t compromised. His eyes flicked from instrument to instrument… the ones affected by the electromagnetic charge the comet now gave off were still out of whack, but the others worked okay. The pilot tried his radio again. “Uhhhh… Control, I seem to have a little problem. Starfighter 1 has impacted with the comet surface. I’m uninjured, but with the magnetic charge, I don’t think I can get free.” Silence answered him. “Houston Control, do you read me?” More silence. “Houston Control, please respond.”

Finding nothing more to discover in his cockpit, Apollo turned his attention outward. The comet must have been softened upon being so far inside the solar system… instead of his ship smashing up on the surface, he seemed to have partially embedded himself in the comet. The ice protruding into his cockpit was emitting some type of gas… at first he thought it might have been the extreme cold of the ice fogging inside his atmosphere. But the tendrils of gas dropped, as though the element was heavier than air. His legs were starting to feel numb, which surprised him, as his suit should have insulated him from the environment of open space.

Apollo’s breath was starting to fog in his helmet. “What’s going on here,” he said to himself, since the radio no longer transmitted. “Why is it getting so cold? It’s not supposed to get so cold!” By now his instruments were shining eerily through the fog, causing a soft diffusion of light through his space. He huddled in a pathetic attempt to conserve body heat. But within minutes, ice coated every surface inside the craft. He reached out and touched the icy surface of the comet. Strangely, he didn’t feel the cold from there, but then, that could have been due to the numbness in his fingers. Apollo’s breaths grew shallower and shallower… he couldn’t see anything, the faceplate in his helmet long glazed over in ice. He felt numb all over now, and all he was thinking about was how nice it would be to just take a nap. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until finally they closed and he went to sleep.

The comet continued on its journey, unaware of its new passenger or the impact it made on the surface.