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EXTERIOR. A SUNNY, VERDANT CLEARING—DAY.
Several young children are playing, dressed in muted brown colors. The ambient sounds of nature fill the air. A title fades in over the scene:
Starship Churchill
One of the children, a three or four year old girl, runs up to some ruins and leans against a pillar. She has long hair and Vulcan features—a pointed ear is visible. Quickly, a shadow is cast over the scene and a gust of wind buffets the girl. She turns to peer into the sky.
Above, a shockingly large shape like a great bird is obscuring the sky and sun. An overpowering thrum has replaced the sounds of summer, like an animal’s roar slowed way down. The girl stares up at the dark shape in awe.
FEMALE VOICE Captain?
CUT TO: INTERIOR. CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS—NIGHT.
The captain sits up suddenly in bed. She is a Vulcan female, appearing 40-ish (in Earth years). She appears disoriented and annoyed. She is wearing a nightshirt.
FEMALE VOICE Captain T’lon?
T’LON (Flustered) Yes…what is it?
FEMALE VOICE We need you on the bridge.
T’LON (Rubbing her eyes) Do I have to get dressed?
FEMALE VOICE (beat) Uh, yeah…uniform required.
T’Lon sighs tiredly.
INTERIOR. THE BRIDGE OF THE STARSHIP CHURCHILL, DAY.
NOTE: the Churchill is a small scoutship with a crew of 27; the sets are small and confined; the sets and uniforms are ‘Deep Space Nine’ era, or slightly later.
T’Lon enters the bridge, in uniform, and slows as she sees a stationary Tholian ship on the main display.
As T’Lon stares at the display, her second in command, Lt.-Commander Simonson, an Earth woman, approaches to stand beside her. (It was Simonson’s voice that awoke T’Lon from her sleep.)
T’LON (Aghast) Tholians? In Federation space?
SIMONSON The Tholian ship made a very non-confrontational approach. They have requested, through lingua-code, to speak to you. They asked for you *by name*.
T’Lon registers surprise.
T’LON (Calmly, to the communication officer) Open a channel.
COM/TACTICAL Channel open.
T’LON I am Captain Sovak T’Lon of the Federation Scoutship Churchill. I understand that you have requested to speak to me.
On the main display, a Romulan man appears. He is wearing Romulan garb, but civilian.
SIMONSON (sotto voce) This is getting really strange.
ROSTIK (Ingratiatingly) Indeed, Captain. My name is Sovias Rostik and the matter about which I must speak to you is of the upmost importance.
T’LON (beat) Important how?
ROSTIK (Taken aback, serious) It is a matter of life and death.
SIMONSON (Suspiciously) How did you acquire a Tholian ship?
ROSTIK Please, I will explain everything when I meet with you. You may beam me aboard. Whenever you are ready, of course….
T’Lon and Simonson exchange a wordless, uneasy look, wondering what all this means.
INTERIOR. THE CHURCHILL’S BRIEFING ROOM, DAY.
The briefing room doors open and T’Lon, Simonson, Rostik, and two security guards enter. Rostik is already talking.
ROSTIK (Animated) I’m so grateful. You have no idea what it took to get this far, to make it here. (Rostik glances nervously around the room at the others.) But, the matter at hand is very sensitive. I can only share it with you, Captain. I’m afraid the others must leave.
SIMONSON (Forcefully) Rostik, that’s not going to happen.
ROSTIK (Frustrated) Look, I am no threat to you or to the Federation. Must your…*thugs* be part of this delicate conversation?
T’LON (Frowning, to the two security guards) Dismissed.
The three sit at the table, Simonson and T’Lon facing Rostik.
Simonson is frowning and tapping her palm on the table, showing passive disapproval.
ROSTIK, realizing that Simonson is not going anywhere, gently places an object, perhaps 9 inches square, on the table before them.
Simonson picks up the photograph. Both T’Lon and Simonson examine it.
The image resembles Captain Sovak T’Lon, but younger, darker, and with jewelry. The image shimmers and moves in a brief loop.
SIMONSON (To T’Lon) That’s you?
T’LON No, but close.
ROSTIK (Smiling wistfully) That…is my lovely wife. Her name is Maskal. (To T’Lon specifically) She…is your sister.
T’LON She is Vulcan?
ROSTIK (Uncomfortably) No, she is Romulan. As are you.
T’LON (beat) What?
ROSTIK (Bemused) Please, hear me out. My wife was part of the crew of a Romulan fast scout ship, a class of ship not unlike this one. Her ship came out of warp in the proximity of a magnetar which was experiencing a starquake. A magnetic field line passed close enough to their ship that their propulsion system was damaged. The environment was deadly, but they reasoned that if they stored their own transporter images within the ship’s transporter buffer, the crew could be reintegrated once their ship had drifted beyond the violent energy fields of the magnetar and was recovered by the Romulan Star Empire.
SIMONSON Well, Romulan transporters must work very differently from Federation transporters.
ROSTIK: (Enthusiastically) They do! The machine memory is a super-compressed crystalline lattice. The durability of the pattern integrity is what would have allowed the crew’s plan to succeed. However… (Rostik tears up a little) while the ship was saved, the memory core was slightly damaged, and my wife and the others could not be reintegrated.
T’LON I’m sorry, Rostik…but I still don’t understand what—
ROSTIK (Overlapping) *You* can save her. You are her sister. Using *your* pattern, I can reconstitute hers, and bring her back.
T’LON (Frustrated) How can your wife and I be sisters, Rostik? I am a Vulcan. I was born and raised on the planet Vulcan. My parents are Vulcan. Just because we look similar—
ROSTIK (Forcefully) Ask your parents, they will tell you! They know!
SIMONSON (Purposefully interrupting) Even if you are right, Rostik, the Federation would never allow a Romulan to possess the transporter image of a Starfleet captain.
Rostik launches himself out of his chair. T’Lon and Simonson jump out of their chairs, surprised, expecting anger. But Rostik, rounding the table, falls to his knees before T’Lon, bowing submissively.
ROSTIK (Voice shaking) I…am *begging* you. You don’t know what it took to get this far; what I’ve given up to make this happen. (He raises his head and looks up at T’Lon) I’m telling the truth. Please! (He grabs her hand) Use the mind meld, you’ll see!
T’Lon wrenches her hand from his, disdainfully. (Touch is a very private and powerful thing for Vulcans.)
T’LON Guards!
The two security guards rush in. Rostik jumps to his feet.
ROSTIK (Desperately) Please! You have to help me!
T’LON (Overlapping) I will take what you’ve said under advisement. Go with these men; they will escort you to a waiting area.
ROSTIK (Begging) No, please, allow me to return to my ship. I have to retrieve something, an object that will convince you of the truth of my story.
T’LON (Exasperated) Fine. (To the security guards) Take him to the transporter room. He is to be beamed over to the Tholian ship.
SENIOR GUARD Yes, Captain.
The guards and ROSTIK leave the briefing room, with ROSTIK looking behind him pleadingly at the Captain.
T’Lon stands and thinks for a second, then sighs tiredly. She walks to the conference table and presses the intercom button.
T’LON (Into intercom) T’Lon to Engineering.
MARTINEZ (over com) Martinez here.
T’LON Come to the briefing room.
MARTINEZ On my way.
T’Lon sits again, in silence, rubbing her face with her hands.
SIMONSON Are you okay?
T’LON We’re finally assigned an easy mission. Warp to Ariadne 5, pick up the ambassador and bring him back. Nothing is easy, it is?
SIMONSON About the Romulan thing—
T’LON (Interrupting, a bit on edge) I don't want to discuss it.
SIMONSON I get it, but—(she pauses, then gives up trying to express sympathy to the Vulcan captain)—I’ll be on the bridge.
Simonson leaves the room, passing by Lt. Martinez as he enters. He looks at her questioningly as they pass; she stares straight ahead.
MARTINEZ Captain?
T’LON I need your engineering expertise. Our Romulan guest wants to reconstitute the damaged transporter pattern of his wife by using the transporter pattern of…of her sibling. He wants to…to bring her back to life. Is that possible?
MARTINEZ (Confidently) No. Or at least, I doubt it. As I’m sure you’re aware, there were many experiments done in the early days of transporter technology. Attempts to repair or alter generic code, to cure disease, and so on. While, theoretically, a transporter subroutine could be written that would combine two pattern buffers in a selective way, in reality such experiments never turn out well. If the entanglement matrix doesn't match when the subject is rematerialized…well, there’s a reason why we have such strict protocols when it comes to transporter usage.
T’Lon is silent, her eyes downcast.
MARTINEZ (beat) …So, it would be certainly illegal, probably unethical, and maybe not even possible. Does…that answer your question, Captain?
A red alert sounds.
SIMONSON (Over intercom) Captain to the bridge!
T’LON (to Martinez) Let’s go.
INTERIOR. BRIDGE OF THE CHURCHILL—DAY.
T’Lon enters bridge.
SIMONSON (Reporting to T’Lon) Three Tholian ships have dropped out of warp and are attacking Rostik’s ship. It seems he must have really pissed them off.
T’LON He’s still aboard the Tholian ship?
SIMONSON Still aboard, and not responding.
T’LON (Sits down in the Captain’s chair) Hail the Tholians.
The Tholian ships are visible zooming across the display, firing weapons at Rostik’s stolen ship.
COM/TACTICAL (After a second) No response.
T’LON Fire a warning shot.
A phaser blast is heard.
COM/TACTICAL They’re ignoring us!
T’LON Can we extend our shields around Rostik’s ship?
SIMONSON Too late, it’s coming apart!
T’LON (Quickly, to COM/TACTICAL) Lower the shields just long enough to beam Rostik aboard.
A bright explosion lights up the main display and the Churchill is jolted.
COM/TACTICAL The Tholians are warping away.
SIMONSON (Urgently) Do we pursue?
T’LON (Annoyed by the suggestion) …Why?
Simonson shrugs her shoulders, acknowledging that it was a silly question.
TRANSPORTER OFFICER (Over the intercom, slightly panicked) Captain, I have the Romulan—he’s badly injured. And he’s brought a device with him through the transporter. A device with a strong energy signature.
SIMONSON Crap.
T’LON Beam the Romulan directly to sickbay and place a level one structural containment field around the device. (Pushes a com button) Sickbay, prepare to receive an injured Romulan via transporter.
THE DOCTOR (Over com) Acknowledged.
T’LON (Pushes a com button) Martinez, scan the device in the transporter room. I need to know if it’s a threat.
MARTINEZ (Over com) Understood.
T’Lon stands and heads toward the turbolift.
T’LON Simonson, you have the bridge. I’ll be in Sickbay.
INTERIOR. SICKBAY—DAY.
Rostik, still unconscious, is bandaged, with black and greenish bruises visible. The doctor is using a dermal regenerator to close some wounds.
T’Lon enters Sickbay to examine Rostik’s condition.
T’LON (Concerned) Will he live?
THE DOCTOR (Dismissively) He’ll be fine. He’s just sedated. I’ve already healed his broken bones. The contusions will take care of themselves.
T’Lon stares a bit at Rostik.
T’LON (Levelly) Assuming he is telling the truth about why he is here…I cannot help but to pity him.
THE DOCTOR (Jokingly) Isn’t pity a human emotion?
T’LON (Serious) Then perhaps empathy, doctor. We’ve all lost someone or something and had difficulty moving past it.
The com whistle sounds.
MARTINEZ (Over com) Engineering to Captain.
T’LON Lieutenant?
MARTINEZ (Over com) I’ve analyzed the device the Romulan brought aboard the Churchill. It’s not dangerous. I believe it’s a Romulan memory core, and an active one. Based on the power consumption, I think something—or *someone*—is stored inside the device.
T’LON Continue your analysis.
MARTINEZ (Over com) Acknowledged.
T’LON (Taps com badge) Captain to bridge.
SIMONSON (Over com) Simonson here.
T’LON Resume course for Ariadne 5, Commander.
SIMONSON Where will you be?
T’LON I’ve slept 5 hours in the past three days. Even Vulcans need sleep.
FADE TO: EXTERIOR. THE SAME DREAM MEADOW AS WE SAW BEFORE—DAY.
The young girl is again playing with the others in the green, sunny meadow. Things proceed in the recurring dream as before, but when the girl looks up to see what is blocking out the sun, this time it is clearly a low-flying Romulan Bird of Prey warship, its engines growling in the atmosphere. The orange Imperial bird graphic is visible on its underside.
T’Lon awakens in her bed and sits up suddenly.
T’LON (Shocked by a realization, she curses in shock, not anger) Oh shit.
INTERIOR. SICKBAY—DAY.
Rostik, now bandaged and in hospital cloths, is sitting up in bed, eating from a bowel of soup. He looks up in surprise to see Captain T’Lon approaching, along with Lt. Martinez, who is carrying the Romulan memory core, a high tech device comprising several cylinders attached to an active control panel, with Romulan characters and glowing level indicators.
T’LON (Standing by the sickbay bed) Hello, brother in law.
ROSTIK (Delighted, sets aside the soup bowel) You believe me!
T’LON (Sympathetically) Let’s just say I am trying to keep an open mind.
T’Lon steps closer to the hospital bed.
T’LON (Regretfully) Rostik…your ship was destroyed.
ROSTIK (Overlapping) I don’t care about the ship.
T’LON And the pattern in the memory core (she gestures to the device Martinez is holding) is too degraded to reconstruct. I’m sorry, Rostik. Truly, I am sorry.
ROSTIK (Freaking out, jumping out of bed) No, her life depends on it! You must help me!
T’LON (Forcefully) It is *impossible*. Nothing can bring her back!
Captain T’Lon steps backward and two guards rush forward to restrain the violent, lunging Rostik, but Romulans are very strong and he casts the guards aside. They regain ahold of him and the doctor approaches with a hypo to tranquilize him.
T’LON Wait!
She lunges forward and places her Vulcan mind-meld pattern hand on Rostik’s face. His aggressive behavior abruptly stops and he stares blankly ahead in shock.
ROSTIK AND T’LON (Slowly, in unison) My thoughts to your thoughts…my mind to your mind…
CUT TO: SCENES OF ROSTIK AND HIS WIFE DURING HAPPIER TIMES. HIS WIFE LOOKS IDENTICAL TO T’LON, BUT WITH DIFFERENT HAIR AND TANNER SKIN, WEARING JEWELRY, AND VERY EMOTIVE. THEY ARE OUTDOORS, WALKING AND LAUGHING TOGETHER.
ROSTIK (Voice-over) You see her now as she was then, as she still exists in my thoughts. I vowed to save her, and I failed. (Voice cracking) How can I live with that?
T’LON (Voice-over) She lives here, Rostik. This is her legacy, it lives inside you. That’s why *you* have to live, and that’s what you have to live for. That degraded pattern buffer is not her…it’s…just a shadow. This is where she will reside, in your memory, in your life. In you.
The mind meld is broken. Rostik appears downcast, but pulls himself up, and, walking with determination, almost in slow motion, he approaches Martinez and takes the memory core from him. Rostik places it on the sickbay bed so the controls are visible and turns the device off.
He has tears in his eyes.
T’LON (Gently placing a hand on Rostik’s shoulder) We can drop you off at the Romulan boarder. We can signal for a transport.
ROSTIK (Wistfully) I’m a fugitive now. I’ll be executed if I go back.
T’LON (Trying to be helpful) You can stay in Federation space with refugee status. You can even immigrate to Vulcan. I can pull some strings…
ROSTIK (Being honest) No offense, Captain. I don’t much like Vulcans.
T’LON, taken aback, raises her brows.
FADE TO: INTERIOR. T’LON’S QUARTERS—DAY.
T’Lon is sitting at her desk, going over some paperwork.
COM/TACTICAL (Over com) I have a subspace connection to planet Vulcan. There is some interference, so it’s audio only.
T’LON Thank you, Lieutenant. (Staticky white-noise starts, indicating the connection is open) Mother, Father…
MOTHER Sovak, this is unexpected!
FATHER Yes, it is pleasant to hear from our only daughter, but I wonder what caused you to think of us?
Sovak T’Lon is hesitating, thinking.
MOTHER Sovak?
T’LON I have had dreams…for decades…about my childhood. But instead of Vulcan’s red sun, the sun above me is white. Instead of Vulcan’s oceans of sand, I am surrounded by greenery. And sometimes I see a great bird flying above me, so large that it blots out the sky. And I know that it is coming to take me away…a Romulan Bird of Prey.
MOTHER (Shaken) Sovak…
T’LON (Determined) Do you have something to tell me? About who I am? About where it is that I come from?
SLOW FADE on her expectant face.
END.