Ansalom Stories: Yesterday's Ansalom

Posted on Sat Dec 10th, 2022 @ 1:04am by Lieutenant Evan Gahs

Mission: Side Stories
Location: Chicago Earth (PT. 1) SS Ansalom (PT 2.)
Timeline: March 8th, 2366 PT 1, December 9th, 2244

Part 1:

"Did you feel that," Hasha asked his father. His voice rose. A few moments ago He and his father Evan lived in the silence of what was left of the war-torn East side of Chicago. And, as if a mighty wind tunnel took over, they were pushed motionlessly forward into a bustling cityscape.

"Did you feel that," Hasha asked again.

"Yes, yes I did. It's been corrected," Evan replied flatly.

"What has," said an unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. Evan turned around to see his other son, Zen in front of him. With all the excitement they could muster they embraced Zen as if they hadn't seen him in a long time.

"Everything," Evan said under his breath. "Everything."

After breaking the hug, Evan and his sons found a local cafe. There, he explained to Zen what had happened. They, that is all three of them had existed in another universe where Earth, Starfleet, and the Klingons were at constant war with each other. The Klingons laid Terra to waste with only a few survivors. Zen, that is the Zen of that universe had died in an explosion.

"So that's why you were excited to see me," Zen said. "Then how did all this..."

"The war was not supposed to happen," Evan explained. "Something in the past that's supposed to happen must have been corrected to correct our current timeline."

"I felt that," said Zen. "It was like jumping into a pool."

"Or a tunnel," Hasha echoed Zen's amusement. "Is that another one of those 'things' we should be warned about? Have you ever experienced this before?"

Evan nodded, "Yes"...

PART II

Captain's Log, December 9th, 2244. It's been a while since I have recorded anything. We've been squeaking past the Klingons for the past three days and luckily no one has attacked us. My contact in Kronos has been a godsend as he has kept the marauders at bay. For now...

Evan paced his cabin between two viewports. With the sheer size of the living space, the trek wasn't that long. He was almost willing the universe to shrink the size of space between their current location and the Hovahn III, a planet in desperate need of the grain Ansalom was hauling.

After his fifth pass, the walk was much longer. It was as if he was walking into a dark tunnel.

In an instant, he was on the bridge of the Ansalom, a mighty Constitution Class vessel in the midst of battle. He fell to his side after yet another explosion lurched the ship to port. He could feel the hands of other crew members helping him to his feet. The ringing in his ears and the nauseous spin told him one thing; he was not supposed to be here.