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Stars glisten in the infinite black, one spaceship floats through the emptiness, an iron shell keeping its inhabitants save and warm. Inside, one man is awoken by the ringing of his alarm. It’s not too early in the morning and yet the fatigue of sleep clings to Captain Archer as he pulls himself out of bed. Nothing about this morning particularly separates it from any other, Archer gets ready and makes his way to the cafeteria for breakfast. A few people have already gathered there, including T’Pol, she’s always been a morning person.
Usually, Archer would eat in his room, since he’s the captain he has to keep up a certain level of professional confidence which can be quite draining this early on, but he doesn’t have work for another few hours and the company can be quite nice at times.
He gets an expresso from the replicator, walking past T’Pol who greets him in her typical formal voice. “Captain,” she nods her head, “T’Pol” he nods back. He manages to get one sip of his coffee before T’Pol decides to inform him about a technical issue they’ve run into during routing scans of a nearby planet. “Isn’t it a bit early for work talk?” Archer asks with a sigh.
“It’s eight pm.”
“Exactly.”
T’Pol just gives him a look and moves on from the conversation. Before either of them can say another word, the cafeteria they’ve been standing in seems to vanish as a different surrounding appears all around them. Archer is still trying to get his mind adjusted to the sudden change while T’Pol has already pulled out her phaser, eyes scanning the area for an attacker or any other kind of danger.
They find no such thing, only an empty alleyway in-between towering skyscrapers.
“Where are we?” Archer asks the question they were both thinking. “M-class planet,” T’Pol replies, pulling out her tricorder. She opens her mouth as though to say more but halts, staring at the tricorder for a few solid seconds.
“Earth”
“Earth.” Captain Archer looks at his own Tricorder. T’Pol inspects the street they materialized on. It seems to be some kind of back street, or side alley, there aren’t many people and those that pass them don’t even spare them a glance. T’Pol’s eyes follow them anyway, she herself has never been on earth, but something seems a little off. A suspicion creeps up on here, T’Pol looks over to Captain Archer.
“I was born on Earth, you know?” Captain Archer says, he has his head lifted, eyes on the apartment complexes lining the alley.
“I know, Captain.”
“It looks different from the last time I was here.” He is still looking around and starts walking towards where the alley ends and meets with a bigger street. T’Pol follows him. “Captain, I suspect—”
They step onto a large street, it’s busy, lots of lights and sounds and people. And there are cars, it is the first thing T’Pol really notices, and it only serves to conform her suspicion. It’s not normal cars, it’s old ones, ones that don’t hover over the street like she knows the cars on Earth do.
“That’s…” Captain Archer trails off, the expression on his face almost looks like wonder, as his eyes drift over the busy main street they stand on now.
“This is not Earth of the 22nd century.” T’Pol concludes.
“No…” He walks further onto the street, “this is—it looks like time square, T’Pol! We are in the New York of the 20th century!” T’Pol can make out a certain desperation in Captain Archer’s voice, but it is mixed with some kind of excitement too.
T’Pol can’t quite place the emotion she has. This isn’t good. She reaches for the Tricorder in her pocket, maybe scanning their surroundings more in depth will bring them and advantage, when suddenly the wind picks up, lifting trash and dry leaves into the air. A piece of paper flies up and into her face and she picks it up with an irritated frown. She is about to look for the nearest trash container (it’s a crime really how, Earth people of the 20th century don’t seem to have a sense of responsibility towards their habitat), when she realizes the piece of paper seems to be two concert tickets folded together. She unfolds them, maybe knowing the exact date would be useful.
“Captain, we seem to be in the year 1983.”
Captain Archer steps next to her, looking over her shoulder onto the tickets in her hand.
“Wait,” he says and takes the tickets, “there is a note here.”
“I saw,” T’Pol says, “I can’t imagine they hold valuable information.”
“My dear travelers,” Captain Archer reads, “welcome on Earth of the 20th century! Please, be my guests!” He looks at T’Pol with his most annoying ‘guess I was right’ look.
“You just made that up.” T’Pol takes the note from his hands to give it a read herself, while Captain Archer takes the tickets to inspect them.
Sadly, Captain Archer had not made up the text on the note, it does really say My dear travelers, welcome on Earth of the 20th century! Please, be my guests. Which, T’Pol in all honesty thinks is a little cliché, should it be addressed at them, which she, in all honesty doesn’t really think.
“I wouldn’t assume this note is addressed at us, Captain.” Captain Archer looks up from the tickets in his hands, “these are tickets to a David Bowie concert.”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“I did, T’Pol, but even if they aren’t addressed at us, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”
“What are you talking about, Captain?” T’Pol can feel herself growing irritated and Captain Archer clears his throat.
“I wouldn’t pass up this potential lead,” he says, “we don’t really have any other point of reference.”
“But this is nothing but a potential lead,” T’Pol argues, “what- or whoever transported us though time might be close by. We can’t just leave.”
“Fine,” Captain Archer crosses his arms, “scan our surroundings, if the Tricorder finds an anomaly close by, we inspect that, if not,” he holds up the tickets.
T’Pol rolls her eyes, but she takes the Tricorder form her belt and takes a few steps back into the side alley they came from, Captain Archer follows her. She scans their surroundings thoroughly, even the vertical directions, but there is nothing out of the order blinking on the Tricorder’s display.
She comes back to Captain Archer trying her very best not to look annoyed while he grins and holds up the concert tickets.
“Let me introduce you to the New York underground.”
3.
A massive line of excited people marks the entrance to the concert hall. It’s a lot easier to blend in with a crowd this big than it was back in the underground, though people in New York tend to be too involved in their own life to be bothered by two oddly dressed strangers. One thing that hasn’t changed in all these years.
“Are you sure this isn’t a waste of time?” T’Pol asks as they move to the end of the line. “It’s the best we have if we don’t want to stay in the past forever” Archer replies.
After a very long time of standing in line and discussing the usefulness of doing so, they finally get to the entrance. After showing their tickets they are let into a giant hall, rows of people on all sides with a platform in the middle.
“Alright,” T’Pol pulls out her tricorder the moment they’re out of view from the security guard, “what’s the plan?” She gives Archer an expectant look but he only waves with his hand. “Let’s explore a bit, see what’s going on. I mean, we’re not in a hurry, who says we can’t enjoy ourselves a bit? This is basically a historic event, we won’t get a chance like this again.”
T’Pol does not look particularly impressed, instead focusing her attention back on the tricorder, “the anomaly is a lot closer now.”
Archer sighs, his eyes wandering over the crowd, taking in the atmosphere of a place in his time long a piece of history and yet so alive now that it is right in front of him. It’s a fascinating experience to watch David Bowie walk onto the stage, readying himself to perform, knowing he died long before Archer was even born.
T’Pol doesn’t appear to share this view, pushing through the crowd tricorder in hand, trying to reach the anomaly with complete disregard to her surroundings. “Can you wait a moment?” Archer tries to call after her. It’s unlikely she can hear him through the screams of the crowd as David Bowie begins to play his first song. Squeezing through the crowd, Archer manages to reach T’Pol in time to stop her from climbing over the railing separating the crowd from the stage.
“What are you doing?” Archer grabs her arm and tries to get a bit more distance between her and the stage. He succeeds to T’Pol’s dismay.
“I’m just trying to get us back,” she replies, having to scream to be heard through all the noise. “But you can’t just run on stage with no warning,” Archer yells back. “But the anomaly is right there,” she points at the stage. Archer looks up and for a second and meets the eyes of David Bowie who smirks before looking away.
“Fine” T’pol pulls her arm out of Archers grip, “then lets at least search the surroundings for more information. I don’t want to stand here and do nothing.” She points to one of the side doors and starts walking, showing her plan in case it couldn’t be heard over the noise. Archer quickly moves in the same direction, reaching the door first and pushing it open. The step into a corridor, warm lights, and doors along both sides.
“This way,” Archer decides after a brief moment of looking around. They walk in that direction, which goes fine for about half a minute until a tough looking woman with the words ‘security’ written on her outfit walks out of one of the doors. For a second Archer considers running but she has already spotted them, speed walking towards them with a less than friendly expression.
“Excuse me but are you two supposed to be here?” Her eyes wander form Archer to T’Pol and back, an untrusting expression in her face.
“Yes” Archer replies with a confidence he isn’t feeling. “Then can you show me your backstage pass?” The woman asks, expression not changing one bit. Archer looks at T’Pol, but she doesn’t offer much support. “Uhh, right” archer looks back at the women “I might have forgotten mine at home.” He receives a very unimpressed look from the security guard, “if you don’t have a backstage pass, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
Archer had kind of assumed it would come to this. He pulls his phaser out of his pocket and fires. The security guard falls to the ground, unconscious.
4.
“Oh, there you are!” There is a man standing in front of them suddenly, as if he had manifested there from thin air. It is the same one that had been on stage a few minutes ago and he looks first at T’Pol and then Captain Archer, who attempts to hide the unconscious body of the security guard through standing in front of it. T’Pol doesn’t think it is working, and her hand twitches towards her phaser. Whoever this David Bowie, or whatever his name was is, she doesn’t think he’d be happy to see people break into this facility.
His eyes graze the unconscious security guard and in the corner of her eye T’Pol sees Captain Archer straighten up, like he is about ready to fight this man too, but there isn’t even a twitch in the man’s eyes, no sign of any hostility or even irritation. Instead, he smiles at them both and then extends his hand.
“David Bowie,” he says first shaking the hand of a perplexed Captain Archer, and then extends his hand towards T’Pol, “it is wonderful to meet you.”
“Johnatan Archer, Captain of the Enterprise,” Captain Archer introduces himself.
“T’Pol, first officer.”
David Bowie musters them both for a second, like he is either trying to read them, or maybe he is getting lost in thought, T’Pol can’t entirely tell.
“Well,” David Bowie clasps his hand together, “welcome, welcome! I need to get back backstage, just come with. Do you want a drink?” With a wave of his hand, he turns around, clearly expecting them to follow him.
“Sure.” Captain Archer looks one last time at the still unconscious security guard, and T’Pol faintly wonders how long an expectable time for humans to be unconscious is, but there are more pressing matters.
“I think he is the anomaly,” she whispers to Captain Archer, he looks at her contemplatively.
“David Bowie? It’s possible.”
“No, I am sure. How else would he know us?” Captain Archer nods, “you’re right. He must be.”
T’Pol shoots a look towards David Bowie, who either can’t hear them or pretends he can’t, quickly she holds onto Captain Archer’s arm.
“This could be a trap. We should be careful.” Captain Archer looks at her, and for a second, he says nothing.
“What are we supposed to do, T’Pol?” he says then, “this is our only lead. We can’t not follow him.”
“I didn’t say that. We just have to be careful.”
“Oh, you know me,” he grins at her, and T’Pol lets go of his arm.
“That’s why.” She looks back at David Bowie who has stopped somewhere further down the corridor and is now chatting with someone who T’Pol assumes works in the facility they’re in.
David Bowie invites them into a backstage room, lined with mirrors and fancy lighting, two sofas stand between the many clothes hangers and closets. David Bowie sits down one of the sofas with a dramatic sigh and gestures Captain Archer and T’Pol to do the same. Captain Archer sits down on the other sofa, while T’Pol keeps standing, despite it all keeping up a small bit of formal appearance seems like a good idea.
“You as well,” David Bowie nods in T’Pol’s direction, with a gesture to the sofa Captain Archer sits on, “there is a reason both of you are here. Drinks?”
“No thank you,” T’Pol declines politely as she sits down next to Captain Archer, who shifts his wight forward on the sofa.
“Why are we here? Is this your doing?” he asks, with an expression T’Pol knows is meant to mean business, be a little intimidating even. There have probably been moments in which this has left an impression on the people he was talking to, but T’Pol doubts right now is one of them.
“I, my dear travelers,” David Bowie rests his hand dramatically over his heart, “need your help.”
“So, it was you who brought us here!” Captain Archer exclaims, and before he can jump up from the sofa, T’Pol puts a hand on his shoulder, “let’s hear him out, then we decided how to proceed.”
Captain Archer looks at her for a second, like he wants to argue, but he clears his throat instead and looks back at David Bowie.
“So, did you bring us here? Who are you?”
“I myself didn’t bring you here,” David Bowie days with an almost humble smile, “this did.” He pulls a small black box not quite the size of his palm out of a bag.
“What is this?” T’Pol demands, she is growing irritated at how this guy David Bowie is dragging out the conversation.
“This,” David Bowie extends his hand so they can see the small black box a little better, but he pulls his hand back again as soon as Captain Archer moves to touch it, “is a curious little thing, they call… I don’t actually know what they call it, but it is said to grant everyone who ever lived and will ever live a wish.”
“Right.” T’Pol crosses her arms, it seems like they’re wasting their time after all.
“It is true, you can scan the thing with your little scan thingies.” He gestures towards them again and Captain Archer reaches for his Tricorder immediately.
“It definitely isn’t any old box,” he admits after a few seconds. T’Pol scans the box with her own Tricorder and almost laughs at Captain Archer’s strange understatement, almost.
“I have never seen anything like this before. The box doesn’t seem to exist in any other dimension than time, but it looks material… How did you get this?”
David Bowie smiles mysteriously and puts the small box back into the bag he got it from.
“Good relationships with the Orion Syndicate,” is the only thing he says, and T’Pol finds that quite irritating.
“So, you transported us here with help of this… small magical box,” the skepsis is audible in her voice, “because you need our help with something. Is that right?”
“Yes, that is correct. It is a little embarrassing, but I have been stranded on earth for a few decades now.”
“Decades?” Captain Archer asks.
“Yeah,” David Bowie waves his hand dismissively, and T’Pol faintly wonders what species he really belongs to and how long the average life span of that species is, longer than humans she assumes.
“My warp core is broken. And it has been great fun so far, earth is interesting to say the least, but since certain… developments…”
5.
David Bowie trails of. “Well, I’ll certainly miss this planet,” he walks towards what appears to be a liquor cabinet and takes out a bottle. “You sure you don’t want some,” he holds a glass towards Archer who decides to take it. T’Pol’s disapproving look doesn’t stay unnoticed but he decides to ignore it. “Great,” he raises his glass “a toast to the Earth, one of the best planets I’ve been to so far.”
“To Earth,” Archer replies, mostly to be polite. T’Pol doesn’t seem to be a big fan of this, “now where is this warp core of yours? I’m sure I can figure out what’s wrong with it,” she looks at David Bowie with a calculating stare.
“Well,” David Bowie replies after taking his first drink, “it’s a bit of a long way but that’s fine, we don’t have to hurry.” T’Pol gives Archer a look presumably indicating she’d rather they’d hurry anyways. Archer only replies with a shrug trying to indicate that he’s not sure how to proceed here but if Bowie is their way back and he’s not running from them he doesn’t see why they should stress about getting back as quick as possible.
“It’s been fun making music for people who truly enjoy it, you know,” Bowie abandons his drink, instead taking the bottle and making himself comfortable on the other end of the sofa. “My species isn’t that much into music, not as much as I am anyways.” He takes a swig out of his bottle. “But now it’s time to leave and I find myself already missing this place. It’s not easy finding planets free from interstellar connections and yet far enough developed technology to make living on them comfortable. It’s—”
A sharp knocking on the door interrupts his monologue. “FBI open up,” comes a threatening voice from the other side of the door. Both Archer and T’Pol look at David Bowie who makes a face as though he stepped onto a particularly uncomfortable rock. “Uhh, right about that,” He pushes himself of the couch. “I think it’s best we continue the conversation in my car.”
Archer already wonders how they’re supposed to get to Bowie’s car without using the door, where another sharp knock reminds them of the FBI’s precedes, when the musician opens a closet, pushing away some clothes and kicking in the wooden wall inside of it. On the other side is a narrow corridor into which David bowie walks, bottle in hand.
“After you,” T’Pol skeptically inspects the opening. Archer decides not to wait another moment and follows David Bowie through the closet, T’Pol close behind him. They make their way to a limousine conveniently waiting for them behind the door at the end of the corridor. “My driver should already be inside,” David Bowie holds open a door for the two. “Great guy, I’ll truly miss him.”
The inside of the limousine is mostly black sofa like seats, a very luxurious car for the time if Archer is not mistaken. David Bowie is the last to get inside, letting himself fall onto the seats with a sigh. “I’ll miss this planet,” he says again, staring at the car’s celling. “I don’t actually want to leave but now you’re here already and these guys are after me.” He shakes his head and takes another swig out of his bottle. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
The engine of the limousine comes to live as they begin to drive off to wherever it is that David Bowie is keeping his spaceship.
The limousine brings them right into a giant warehouse, and when she exits T’Pol eyes are immediately drawn towards the shuttle at its centre. She doesn’t recognize the building technique, but it is unmistakably a shuttle. David Bowie exchanges a few words with his driver and a moment later the limousine is on its way out again.
“Let me show you the core.” David Bowie is walking quickly towards the shuttle, and T’Pol follows. She would much prefer to get this whole ordeal over with soon and not have to listen to David Bowie reminiscing about Earth again.
David Bowie leads them to the warp core and T’Pol inspects it, she doesn’t quite recognize the technology yet again, but it is definitely close enough to what technology they have on the Enterprise for her to work with. While she is looking around David Bowie is bringing a variety of tools for them to work with.
T’Pol had feared the reparations would require spare parts none of them would have access to on earth in the 20th century, but when she is assessing the damage, it seems to be minimal. On the Enterprise something small like this wouldn’t even be required to be reported to the captain, but any kind of damage is a hindrance if you don’t have the skills to fix it.
She looks through her tools, which are all a bit clunky and seem to mainly bee Earth technology, with one or two out of place looking high tech tools T’Pol can’t identify. She is getting a little curious about David Bowie’s species, and if the Vulcans have made contact with them already.
Captain Archer comes to stand next to her as she is starting to work on the warp core, he doesn’t say anything just watches her work, which is unusual. But the again maybe not the most unusual thing that has happened today, either way T’Pol finds she doesn’t mind. Which is also unusual.
It doesn’t take her very long to fix the warp core, and when she looks up from her work, Captain Archer is still standing there, but David Bowie has left the shuttle. There is a silence in which neither of them says anything. Then Captain Archer clears his throat and straightens up.
“Let’s see how David Bowie is doing,” he says and turns to leave the shuttle, T’Pol takes a moment to put back the tools and then follows him outside.
David Bowie is pacing up and down in front of the shuttle, “am I doing the right thing?” he asks no one in particular, “I mean what were the chances of me stranding on Earth, if fate exists then it was my warp core breaking and bringing me here!”
“Are you not homesick?” Captain Archer asks and David Bowie sighs dramatically.
“I am! Terribly so, but I know I will miss this planet more than anything…” He spins around in the warehouse like he is admiring Earth, which T’Pol thinks doesn’t quite do Earth justice, then he looks at T’Pol.
“What do you think about this? You Vulcans are said to be a smart species.” T’Pol clears her throat.
“Are you not able to come back to this planet?” It’s more of a question than a resolution, but T’Pol in all honest doesn’t quite know how to answer.
“That’s it!” David Bowie starts pacing again, “how have I not thought of this myself? I can always return to earth. I quite like that, actually. You Vulcans do live up to your reputation, it seems.”
“They really do,” Captain Archer says, and if T’Pol didn’t know any better she would say he sounds proud.
“Well, friends, my people are calling, my home planet is singing for my return.” David Bowie does a little bow, “I thank you for your help.”
“It was our pleasure, David Bowie.” Captain Archer nods at him.
“Now, how can we get back?” T’Pol crosses her arms, because this is all nice and well, but Captain Archer and her have to get back as well, and she still doesn’t trust David Bowie fully.
“Right, right,” David Bowie nods and pulls the strange black box out of his bag again, he carefully hands it T’Pol, “all you have to do is voice your wish, best is to do it as specific as possible, and then say you want your wish fulfilled.”
“It sounds a little too simple,” T’Pol inspects the box.
“But,” Captain Archer quickly says, “we believe you.”
“And if you lied,” T’Pol shots David Bowie a warning glance, “I have the power to destroy that warp core again.”
“She doesn’t mean it like that,” Captain Archer assures David Bowie, whose eyes had gone wide for a second.
“I mean I can—”
“But she won’t,” Captain Archer looks more at T’Pol than at David Bowie, “besides, it will work, I’m sure of it.”
“Well, I wish you safe travels back to your ship.” David Bowie says and then he extends his hand towards T’Pol, “It was an honour to get to know you both.”
T’Pol shakes his hand, “I wish you well.”
Then Captain Archer shakes his hand, “great your home planet from us.”
T’Pol clears her throat and holds up the small black box, “I wish for me and Captain Jonathan Archer to be brought back to exactly that point in space and time we had been before David Bowie transported us to him in order to help him fix his warp core.”
She looks at Captain Archer and he nods back at her.
“I want my wish to be fulfilled now.”
It is not really a travel or transition of any kind. One moment they’re standing in the warehouse the next they are back on the Enterprise, Captain Archer holding the exact same cup of Coffee in his hand that he had this morning. It is still this morning, technically.
“Well, that was—”
“Unusual?” T’Pol finishes and Captain Archer chuckles.
“You could say so.”
After a moment of silence between them T’Pol asks, “do you miss earth sometimes?”
“We’ve just been there.” Captain Archer musters the cup in his hands.
“I mean your Earth.”
“I guess sometimes,” he looks up at her, “do you miss Vulcan?”
“Sometimes…” she admits, “but I don’t mind the Enterprise.”
“Not at all, not at all.” With a smile Captain Archer takes a sip from his coffee. “Still warm.”