A Temporal Recovery on DS5
Posted on Fri Jul 25, 2025 @ 12:25am by Commodore T'mpest Michaels & Commander Tayanita 'Tay' Lio'ven
Edited on on Fri Jul 25, 2025 @ 12:38am
1,283 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Time After Time
Location: DTI Herodotus
Timeline: After "Not Here, Not Now"
[DTI Herodotus]
Commander Marisa Sandoval walked into security, a PADD in her hand. This assignment, fortunately, would be a simple pick up and drop off. And, just in case there were any problems, she wanted to take Hastios with her. "We have a temporal issue on Deep Space 5. Lieutenant Kivan Ta'Gas was part of a team that went back in time to keep the station from being destroyed, causing a temporal ripple that spread through the sector. However, now that the problem has been resolved, the future Ta'Gas is stuck in the past. We are to pick him up and return him to his proper timeline."
Hastios glanced up from his desk as the doors parted and Marisa stepped in. There was a calm purpose in her stride, PADD in hand, the kind of presence that didn’t need to be loud to command a room. He straightened instinctively, feeling a subtle dissonance ripple through the air—faint but unmistakable. Time out of joint. His El Aurian senses had already begun to tighten before she even spoke.
As she explained the situation, he rose smoothly, setting his own data slate aside and taking the PADD from her with a nod. His eyes scanned the briefing in silence—future-self displacement, timeline instability, Deep Space 5. “Only one fractured officer?” he murmured with a quiet smirk. “Almost sounds like a holiday.”
He stepped around the desk, fastening his belt with well-worn ease, checking the fit of his uniform as he shifted back into field mode. The levity faded just enough for something steadier to settle beneath. “You want a clean retrieval, I’ll make sure it stays that way.” He looked up, hazel eyes calm but alert. “How would you like to approach this when we arrive?”
It wasn’t just procedure—he meant it. She had command, and he trusted her judgment. Still, there was an instinct deep in his bones that sharpened when she was near the fire. He didn’t show it, not outwardly, but it was there all the same. He’d walk into a war zone if she gave the word. And make sure she walked back out.
She watched as he stood and walked around his desk. Thorrin recommended Hastios, but he was always her first choice. From their first meeting she'd felt the connection. More than that, she trusted him and wanted him by her side. "He is in sickbay. If we time it right, we should be able to retrieve him without being noticed. I would just beam him out, but I want to be certain there are no complications." She always liked to be prepared in case things didn't go as planned.
Hastios gave a slow nod as she spoke, already stepping into the rhythm of the assignment. He didn’t need to ask what kind of complications she meant—he’d seen too many temporal tangles to assume even the cleanest plan stayed that way. But her calm confidence grounded him, as it always did. Even in the face of a paradox, she had a way of focusing the path forward.
“I’ll prep a containment field in case he’s... unstable,” he said quietly, more to himself than her. His tone remained low, but alert. “Temporal displacement can fray the edges. Sometimes they know too much. Sometimes they feel too much. Either way, I’ll handle it.”
He glanced toward her, then back to the PADD. “I'll coordinate with Ops and mask our beam-in window—give us ten clean seconds to get in and out without triggering alarms.” he paused. “Assuming he doesn’t panic, punch anyone, or spontaneously split in two.”
The corner of his mouth twitched with dry humour, but the seriousness hadn’t left his eyes. “I’ll be ready. Just say when.”
"The sooner the better." They had time, but she saw no reason to delay once Hastios was ready. They had the name, the location, and the temporal data. She looked up at him, the expression in her eyes warm. "How much time do you need?"
Hastios met her eyes, something steady in his gaze that flickered briefly into warmth. He gave a slow nod.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “Fifteen if we want it quiet.”
As he moved to the locker by the door, he reached for one of the spare field belts, holding it up with a quick glance before offering it to her. “Here,” he said, passing it over. “Might need to cinch it down a few notches—wasn’t exactly cut for someone your frame.”
The tone wasn’t teasing—just practical, laced with that quiet protectiveness he never quite let show.
He stepped aside to let her pass, voice low but certain. “Get the buffer locked to his bio-signature. I’ll see you in Transporter Room Two.” A brief pause. “We’ll get it done.”
"That we will." She had no doubt the two of them could take care of this.
Marisa held up the belt. "Thank you." She paused for a moment as she passed him, resisting the urge to touch his arm as she did so. "I will see you in fifteen minutes."
Hastios watched her go, her words settling into the quiet with the kind of certainty he always respected—and, truth be told, appreciated more than he’d ever admit aloud.
As she passed, he caught the flicker of hesitation—the subtle shift in her posture, the almost-touch. His jaw tightened just slightly, not from discomfort, but from restraint. There were lines, and he knew how to hold them. But it didn’t stop him from noticing.
Once the doors closed behind her, the stillness lingered. He exhaled through his nose and crossed back to his desk, fingers moving automatically as he gathered the last pieces of his kit. With fifteen minutes to burn, he made use of the time the only way he knew how—reviewing the security protocols for temporal recovery, memorising the biosigns and behavioural notes on both versions of Kivan Ta’Gas. Every small detail was worth imprinting.
Before leaving, he opened the wall locker and withdrew the worn combat knife he’d carried since the Dominion War. Not for use—just habit. Weight, balance, reassurance. With practiced ease, he slid it into the sheath at his boot, then checked the chrono once more.
Time to go.
Fifteen minutes later, they were again on the Herodotus. Ta'Gas had been returned to his own timeline shortly after he left. It allowed for him to go back in time, but not get stuck in a temporal loop.
They put him on the same biobed in sickbay in case he still needed medical treatment, but with no memory of what happened.
As they stepped off the transporter pad, Marisa turned to Hastios. "Would you like to get some dinner?"
Hastios gave a quiet nod as the transporter cycle faded, the hum of the room settling back into silence. The retrieval had gone smoothly—clean, precise, just as it should’ve. Still, the tension in his shoulders didn’t quite ease until they were both back aboard.
At her question, he looked over, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly—not quite a smile, but close enough to count.
“Yeah,” he said simply, voice low and warm. “I’d like that.”
A post by
Commander Marisa Sandoval
Executive Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
&
Major Hastios Eilfaren
Chief Security & Tactical Officer
Second Officer
USS Herodotus DTI-30656
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