Faith of the Heart by Becky Rock
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“Captain’s star log, November 9, 2154, supplemental. The wormhole we have found is not only unnamed, but also unknown. Since Lt. Mayweather was the first to spot it, he will get to name it. In the meantime, my First Officer, T’Pol, has been studying it. In the last hour, it has been giving off some unusual energy readings. T’Pol believes something may be passing through it. In case she’s right, I’ve ordered the Enterprise back another hundred kilometers.”


 Captain Jonathan Archer tried not to laugh at his friend and Chief Engineer, Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker III, as he explained his research for the book he was writing on the history of G-Force, the team of young people who had successfully fought and beaten invaders from the planet Spectra some one hundred twenty years earlier.


They frequently had dinner together in Captain’s private mess and this time, Tucker had brought with him a large old fashioned poster board that he tacked up on the wall.


“Trip, you’re becoming obsessed,” Archer told him good naturedly as he joined him to look at the chart. It was a family tree that started with the names of the five members of G-Force and ended with five other familiar names.


Tucker shook his light brown head. “It’s not obsession. It’s history.”


Archer’s dark eyebrows rose. “It’s obsession.”


Tucker huffed as he looked at the family tree proudly. “You’re just jealous you don’t look as much like the Eagle as I look like the Condor.”


“Trip, you have a slight resemblance. It’s not worthy of jealousy.”


Archer shook his head as he moved back to the table. He sat down to wait for Enterprise’s Communications Officer, Hoshi Sato, who was going to join them to discuss what Tucker had found out about their mutual ancestors. Unfortunately, Security Officer Malcolm Reed and Navigator Travis Mayweather were on duty. Tucker had promised to share the poster with them as soon as their duty ended.


            The door chimed and Archer offered entrance. Hoshi rushed in and took her seat.


            “I’m sorry I’m late,” the young Asian woman said. “I had to show Carter how to cancel out the interference we’re getting from the worm hole so it won’t affect communications.” Archer smiled at her and nodded.


            At that moment, the cook entered with two plates of steaming food. He placed one in front of the Captain and the second in front of Hoshi. Her dark brown eyes lit up.


            “Mongolian Barbeque?”


            “Didn’t we have this last week?” Tucker asked as the cook returned with a third plate and put it in front of him.


            “Is it a problem?” Archer asked as he lifted his fork and his eyebrows rose again. Hoshi covered her mouth to keep from laughing. She wondered if he had any idea he was imitating First Officer T’Pol’s questioning look.


            “No. Not at all. I like Mongolian Barbeque.”


            “Then let’s eat.”


            They ate in silence for a few minutes before Tucker waved his fork in Hoshi’s direction. “That journal you gave me has been very interesting. To actually get into the head of one of the’s amazing.”


            “What journal?” Archer asked.


Hoshi finished her bite before answering. “Do you remember my telling you my grandmother had passed away right before we left Earth this last time?” she asked. He nodded. “She had her mother’s journal and said it should be given to me before we left again. That’s when I found out my great-grandmother was Princess Anderson, the Swan of G-Force.”


“That’s right. I’d forgotten.” Archer chuckled at the wounded look Tucker gave him. “That’s when we began to figure out we’re actually distant cousins.” He shook his head ruefully. “I had thought my grandfather was teasing me when he said we were descendents of the Eagle and the Swan.”


“What do you think the odds were, after one hundred twenty years, that descendents of G-Force would work together again?” Tucker’s eyes were bright with wonder. “Did you read the journal?” he asked Hoshi.  She shook her head.


“I read the first page and couldn’t go any further,” she answered, looking uncomfortable.


“Why not?” Trip was surprised.


Hoshi shrugged her slender shoulders. “That journal was Princess’ private thoughts.  It’s like an invasion of privacy.”


“How?  Your grandmother gave it to you. Would she have done that if she didn’t want you to read it?  Besides, Princess Anderson’s been dead for forty-seven years.”


“I know, but I still feel it’s an invasion of her privacy.”


“It’s history, straight from the horse’s mouth!” Trip protested.


“How much have you read it, Trip?” Archer had to admit he was curious.  She was, after all, his great-grandmother as well.


“Some of it. Its hard reading.”




Trip smirked at Hoshi. “For the reason you just cited. It’s her private thoughts and sometimes, they hit close to home, but I’m still reading it.”


“How so?” Archer wanted to know.


Trip sighed dramatically. “Wishes, aspirations, fears…”


Hoshi started to wave her hands at him. “Don’t tell me anymore.”


Trip frowned and gave her a quizzical look at her. “Okay.”


The communicator on the wall chimed. Archer wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose to attend to it.




“Captain.” T’Pol, the Enterprise’s Vulcan Science Officer and second-in-command’s, voice sounded over the intercom. “The wormhole is discharging a great deal of energy. I suggest you come to the bridge.”


“Any idea of what’s causing it?” Archer asked, exchanging looks with Trip and Hoshi.


“I believe a ship is coming through.”


“We’re on our way.”


“Have you noticed we never get to finish dinner anymore?” Trip asked as he rose.


“No rest for the wicked,” Hoshi said.


Trip shot her a look. “Speak for yourself.”


By the time they arrived on the bridge, the opening of the wormhole was swirling, growing brighter by the moment.


“Travis, pull us back,” Archer ordered his helmsman as he took his seat in the center of the bridge. “Malcolm, be ready, just in case.” Both the navigator and security officer nodded.


“Aye sir. Pulling back.”


“Yes, sir.”


“Any idea of the size of the ship that might be coming through?” Archer asked in the direction of his second-in-command.


             T’Pol looked through the visor of her sensor array. “No. Our data of such wormhole effects are very limited.”


            “Look at that,” Trip commented in wonder as he joined Malcolm at his post. The opening of the wormhole was widening. The energy it was producing became light so bright it was becoming hard to look at.


            The light illuminated the bridge and reached a final crescendo before blinking out. In the aftermath, the bridge crew blinked and rubbed their eyes, seeing spots. T’Pol was the first to notice one of the spots she was seeing actually wasn’t a spot.




            Archer rubbed his eyes again and squinted at the view screen.


            A ship had indeed emerged from the wormhole. Its surface was covered with black scarring, with only patches of blue or red showing through. Each side of the ship ended with a fuel pod. One was hanging, severely damaged. The front cone of the ship was torn, revealing…


            Trip leaped off the upper level and moved to Travis’ left. He stared intently at the screen.


            “That…looks like an old ground car,” Malcolm said, incredulous. T’Pol turned to frown at him.


            “A car?”


            “It’s the Phoenix,” Trip announced, moving forward until he was almost against the view screen.


            “Trip I told you you were becoming obsessed with this G-Force thing,” Archer admonished as Trip turned to face him.


            “You’ve seen pictures of the Phoenix, Captain. The configuration is the same! That car is the G-2, the Condor Machine. I know. I’ve sat in it. It’s a family heirloom!” He was practically jumping up and down with excitement.


            Archer took a deep breath and looked at the screen again. He had to admit the ship certainly looked like the Phoenix. But how on Earth…?


            “Captain, that ship is armed to the teeth,” Malcolm reported. “Including old TBX missiles. I strongly recommend we go to red alert.”


            “Hold it, Malcolm,” Archer ordered. He turned towards T’Pol. “What are you getting on the sensors?” She turned back and pressed her eyes to the sensor visor.


            “The ship is heavily damaged,” the Vulcan reported, even though they could see that. “Power systems are failing. I’m reading five life forms, human.”


            “It’s too big for the bays,” Archer said, thinking out loud. “The Phoenix was one third of our length, if I remember right. Malcolm, is the grappler strong enough to pull it in close enough to an airlock?”


            “I don’t think so, sir.”


            “Can we get a shuttle over to it?”


            “I do not believe there is enough time,” T’Pol announced. “Life support is failing as well.”


            Archer rose from his seat to face Malcolm. “Can we use the transporter this close to the wormhole?” The dark haired man thought for a moment.


            “I don’t see why not.”


            “Then you better get moving.”


Malcom moved quickly towards the turbo lift and Archer followed him. “Hoshi, please ask Dr. Phlox to meet us at the transporter. Tell him there are five injured.”


            “Yes, sir.”


            Archer stopped just outside the lift doors. He turned towards the bridge. “Trip, are you coming?”

            Trip tore himself away from the screen and hustled to join them.

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