The Aftermath

The Aftermath

Schematics of the timelines stretched out on the display before him, twitching and shifting as if they were nervous creatures with lives of their own. Black spots would form along their lengths and appear to consume the timeline before exploding into maelstroms of erroneous lines and alternate paths. It was beautiful in a way, but the display was merely a three-dimensional representation of the sudden and destructive forces unleased on time itself. The reality was not as pretty as the glowing lines projected in the air of his ready-room. The reality was war and all its collateral damage, destruction and death.

Captain Walker of the USS Pastak pinched the bridge of his nose and ignored the ever-shifting displays for a moment. The Temporal Accords had been created to halt the very problem now faced by the signatories. His door chimed, drawing him from his musings.

“Come.”

Commander Nereda entered, a stack of PADDs under one arm and a mug of raktajino in her other hand. The Cardassian first officer set the stack of PADDs on a free corner of his desk, hooked a chair with a foot and dragged it over so she could sit across from Walker.

“Well, this is an unmitigated disaster.”

Walker grimaced as the commander asked what everyone else was thinking. “Did you find anything?”

Nereda pushed a few PADDs before him and sipped her drink. “A few leads. It’s like trying to find patterns in static. Any word from our esteemed guest from the early 25th century?”





































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