The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [145]
Forty-Five
The Early Twenty-Fifth Century
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana
JAKE SETTLED BACK into his chair, his mouth hanging open. “So that’s the real story of what happened with Coridan?”
“If we believe this version of history,” Nog said, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand. He was clearly tired, but seemed intent on finishing the records. Jake knew that he himself couldn’t stop watching either.
“We knew that Coridan was hit hard,” Jake said, “but the records have always been vague about exactly how it happened. Although this certainly explains why the Coridanites did what they did during the Romulan War.”
“According to some of the files that accompanied this, there were news stories filed, but they were quickly pulled or denied,” Nog said.
“This is a cover-up of major proportions,” Jake said, looking over at the nearly empty wine bottle and silently deciding that he’d had enough. Between the late hour, the wine, and his age, he was barely keeping a clear head as it was.
“Maybe Gardner pulled some strings to save his own reputation,” Nog said. “Wouldn’t be the first time an admiral made a bone headed choice and tried to save face later. I mean, making the decision not to send Enterprise to Coridan is… well, stupid, at best.”
Jake nodded. “The whole rescue of the Aenar is missing from history as well. Was that Gardner, too?”
“I suspect that omission was probably a combination of work by the Andorians and Section 31,” Nog said, staring down into the wine at the bottom of his glass. “The Andorians had enough problems back then; they didn’t need the whole galaxy knowing that they had a race of powerful telepaths ripe for the picking. They’d kept quiet about them for generations, so why not continue to do so? And if Section 31 helped them, they might have had access to the Aenar when they needed them. We know they used telepaths in their later work. Perhaps this was the genesis of that.”
Jake sighed heavily. “It’s a shame what eventually happened to the Aenar.”
Nog nodded silently, a sad expression crossing his face.
“The most galling thing about all of this is that Tucker was erased from these events,” Jake said, steepling his hands under his chin. “Even the ones that haven’t been tampered with. I mean, he saved countless millions of lives on Coridan that wouldn’t have been saved otherwise. And it was his warnings- and his decision to help Section 31- that led Captain Archer to rescue the Aenar. Who knows what would have happened if the Romulans had developed a whole fleet of those drones? Or got their hands on a warp-seven drive, either from Ehrehin or the Coridanites?”
Nog smiled. “I always wondered why Tucker had such a great reputation. I mean, he was a good engineer, and he was an important part of the crew of the first Enterprise in Starfleet history. But there was always an aura about him, as though he’d done something legendary. But it never made sense to me before.”
“Maybe enough of the truth leaked out back then to influence his place in history,” Jake said. “After all, anyone with the power to rewrite history can use that clout for good purposes, too.”
“So, did he survive, or was this really his last hurrah?” Nog asked.
“You don’t know?” Jake said, teasing. He cuffed Nog on the arm, the way they used to do when they were kids.
“I told you I hadn’t watched it all the way through, hew-mon,” Nog brayed, giving Jake a good-natured shove. “You don’t believe me?”
Jake held up his hands in surrender. “That’s all the roughhousing these old bones can take.”
Nog snorted. “Oh, you’re such an old man.”
Jake realized now how much he’d missed the banter and teasing he used to share routinely with his old friend. It really had been too long since they’d been in touch, and he resolved not to let so much time pass between their reunions in the future.
“All right, let’s see what happens next,” he said, his hand moving to reactivate the holo. “And let’s hope for the best.”
Forty-Six
Sunday,