The uproar was deafening in the Crockett's crew module and chaos reigned supreme. Not only were three dozen angry and confused people demanding to know what had happened to them, but the dog that had been beamed up was doing more than his share to add to the cacophony.
Captain Matthew Cross stepped through the door leading from the cockpit and took in the scene. The briefing table and most of the other furniture had been shoved back against the walls to make room for all the people, but it was still crowded. The Crockett had been designed to comfortably accommodate eight people, not forty! Alex Dalton and Jo Schmidt were doing their best to keep the frightened victims calm and under control.
Cross shouldered his way through the crowd until he stood in the center of the room, and a visibly relieved Alex and Jo gratefully yielded the floor to him. He raised his hands and waved to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "I need your attention please!"
Those closest to Cross in the press of people quieted their quarrelling and turned to hear what this strangely-uniformed man had to say. The hush spread outward towards the edges of the crowd like a wave. Even the dog ceased his baying.
One man in the forefront took a step forward and squared off in front of Cross. He was dressed in a fine brown suit and hat and was obviously a gentleman of high social status. "Ich habe ein Recht darauf zu erfahren was passiert ist, mein Herr! Was haben Sie getan? Wo sind wir, und wie sind wir hergekommen?"
Cross could guess the meaning of the man's questions. He answered in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Those that didn't speak English could ask one of their fellow rescuees for a translation. "First of all," he said, "let me assure you that you are no longer in any danger. As you are all aware, there has been an... emergency situation aboard the Hindenburg, but you are all safe here. You have my solemn promise."
The crowd visibly relaxed at that statement and the overall tension in the room dropped slightly.
Cross continued. "For the time being however, that's all I can tell you. I would ask that you remain calm and try to bear with the situation. Everything will be explained soon."
"Now see here, my good man!" sputtered another gentleman near the front of the crowd, clearly not the least bit satisfied with Cross' frustrating non-explanation and vague assurances.
Matthew Cross was done talking though. No sense telling them any more than absolutely necessary at this point. He passed back through the crowd, gathering in Jo and Alex with a look, and together the three Starfleet officers left the crew module. He noticed that Jo had the look of someone who was bursting with something to say.
Once the door was shut behind them, Cross held up a finger forestalling Jo and turned to Alex. "I want you to add a small amount of anesthezine gas to the air mixture in there; just enough to keep them calm and out of trouble." From the other side of the door, the hubbub had escalated again, and the rescued dog was once again barking loudly. Cross drew his brows together in annoyance. "And see if you can replicate some dog food or something. Maybe that'll keep the animal quiet for a while."
"Yes, sir," said Alex and headed forward to the cockpit.
"Captain, something's really been bugging me about this whole situation," said Jo the instant Cross was done with Alex.
"Me too. What is it?"
"Well, we know the Suliban went back in time to blow up the Hindenburg, presumably to kill the ancestor of someone who would make an important contribution to history, right? I mean, that's the standard plot in all of these dumb time-travel stories, right?"
"Yes..."
"But the Hindenburg disaster is in the Crockett's databanks and in our memories. As far as we're concerned, the Hindenburg disaster did happen. Doesn't that mean that the Suliban succeeded?"
That was it! Now that Jo had explained it, Cross realized that this was the 'something' that had been plaguing his own subconscious. But the implications of this possibility...!
"Do you realize what you're saying?" he said gravely.
Jo nodded with equal seriousness. "It means that all our lives we've been living in an alternate timeline and never known it! All of Earth and probably Federation history after this point is an alternate history!"
Cross shook his head. That was almost too much to digest. Was his entire life the result of alien tampering, and not only his own life but the lives of billions of other Federation citizens? No, something was still wrong with the theory.
"Something still doesn't make sense," he said. "Despite the tampering, history turned out all right for Earth and the Federation, yet the Suliban are gone and forgotten. If they really are trying to change things for their benefit, they sure didn't do a very good job."
"We're still missing a piece of the puzzle," said Jo thoughtfully, but her musings were rudely interrupted by a loud booming sound and the deck heaving under her feet.
Dexter's nervous voice came over the ship's intercom. "Captain, the Suliban cell-ship is back!"
"On my way!" replied Cross. "Come on!" he snapped at Jo as he quickly made his way through the transporter room towards the cockpit.
Another hit from the alien ship's weapons struck just as Cross and Jo reached their chairs. From the rear area of the Crockett, the sounds of screaming and barking could be heard as the Hindenburg victims were tossed around. So soon after being pulled from the burning wreckage of a crashing zeppelin, this new tumult was too much for many of them.
The captain switched on the intercom. In as calm a voice as he could manage, he said, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are experiencing a little turbulence. It's nothing to worry about. We should be out of it in a few minutes." As he switched off, another shock rattled the cabin. "I think it's time we took care of the Suliban," he grated between clenched teeth.
Under Cross' direction, the Crockett swept upwards away from the Earth into open space.
"Why are the Suliban still shooting at us?" said Jo urgently from her seat in the back of the cockpit.
Another thunderous jolt rang through the cabin. From her station, Alex called, "Shields down to seventy percent, Captain!"
"Coming around..." said Cross as he maneuvered the nimble Starfleet vessel into the vulnerable six-o'clock position behind the dodging Suliban cell-ship. Staccato bursts of phaser energy leapt from the leading edges of the Crockett. Some of them connected with the cell-ship, causing it to shudder and weave aside. The Crockett followed.
"Does it matter why they're still shooting at us?" demanded Cross. "We've got to keep our passengers safe."
"But captain, you don't understand!" cried Jo over the roar of more weapon hits on the hull. "According to the records, thirty-five people died in the Hindenburg crash, and that's exactly how many people we have back in the crew module. We haven't changed anything by being here. The Suliban should be happy with the way things turned out, but they're not!"
More shots rang off the hull and a gas line above Alex's head burst, sending a burst of vapors straight into her face. The young engineer cried out and dove from her seat, clutching at her face. Dexter was instantly at his girlfriend's side to make sure she wasn't hurt badly.
"I'm okay, I'm okay!" said Alex rubbing her eyes. "It just stings. Hit the cutoff valve."
Dexter plunged his arm into the ruptured wall section and found the manual valve that closed off the gas feed, and the hissing eruption ceased moments later. He helped Alex back to her chair before diving back into his own to resume the battle against the Suliban.
Cross meanwhile, was doing his best to deliver some damage of his own to the Suliban cell-ship. He squeezed off another volley of phaser shots and watched with grim satisfaction as they penetrated the enemy's weakening shields and blast away sections of his outer hull plating.
He spared a moment to crane his neck around and yell at Jo. "If the Suliban don't want the people we rescued, then what?"
He and Jo both thought furiously while around them the battle raged. The structure of the Crockett wouldn't last forever against the punishment it was taking. Already, joints were creaking and groaning every time Cross forced the little ship into a radical maneuver it was never designed to make. From the crew compartment on the other side of the doors at the rear of the cockpit, their unplanned passengers screamed and shouted in fear and anger, and the big German Shepherd added his basso barking and anxious yowling to the chaos.
The identical realization hit both cross and Jo in the same instant. They looked at each other and in unison shouted "The dog!"
"You get the dog to the transporter and prepare to beam it back," ordered Cross. "I'll take the Crockett back down to transporter range."
"We'll have to lower our shields to transport," Jo reminded Cross.
"I know, so be ready. The Suliban is going to be right on our tail and I don't want to have our shields down for more than half a second."
"Aye!" Jo sprang from her chair and headed aft. "Come on, Alex!" she called. "You're a farm girl, so you get to help me wrangle a doggie."
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