It was two weeks since the Merrimack’s last mission and they were on patrol an hour from deep space K-5 when gravitational sensors picked up a sudden spike across the spectrum. So abrupt was the spike that it sent the ship spinning about from port to starboard in a barrel roll. Sending everyone flying this way and that. Red Alert klaxons sprang into action around the ship before the navigator got the ship righted.

Starfleet had never got around to acting upon the request of a previous Merrimack health and safety officer, to have them install seat belts on the Bridge.

Reports came in from across the ship of minor-moderate injuries from the tumbling but otherwise no damage reports were reported. On the screen as it cleared was an awesome sight a massive swirling hole in space recognizable as a wormhole eddied just off their forward bow! The pink-red phenomena pulsed twice before winking shut leaving behind in its wake was a small alien craft. Arched like a crab’s claw with twin smooth nacelle like protrusions from the upper rear the craft at first didn’t match any known configurations. Then dawning would come from those involved in the Destiny Temporal Paradox events two years prior. It was that of an Ancients craft likely similar to a frigate in scope. Fast and nimble they were still powerful capable combatants from what the crew could recall. Thankfully this one didn’t seem hostile as neither shields, bio-armor, or weapons were registered online.

Captain Glen instantly recognized that design configuration of the frigate. How could he not recognize it, when it frequently appeared in his most lucid nightmares. Once again, he was haunted by the memory of that Destiny Temporal Paradox mission, and of the worm that wrapped itself tight around his brain and forced him to act against his own will and best interests.

Life scans of the craft showed it was as expected a partly organic living ship, but unlike previous records showing a crew of 10-12 this one had only a signal Ancient life sign showing up. As this was taken in a hail came in directly calling for Captain Glen by name.

If he only could, Captain Glen have would have erased all knowledge and memory of the ancients. He couldn’t, and another part of his brain was curious; sufficiently curious enough not to order the immediate destruction of the craft.

Instead, but with some reluctance and a heavy heart, Captain Glen instructed Tinga, “Open a communications channel.”

Tinga had taken the barrel roll in style due to her antennae and superior balance but she was glad to have the ship righted again.

Glancing up from collecting damage reports, she saw the ship and heard the Captain’s command.

“Channel open sir.”

=/\= USS Merrimack. I am Shalon Da Fran, I have crossed vast treks of time and space to deliver to you a gift of life. My time here is short though and I must complete my transfer before it is up. Please stand by for a package to your cargo bay. =/\= The female like voice stated.

Glen turned to Kord, who always stood behind him, “I’m not sure that I can bring myself to speak to it, Kord. Could you please? It is an Ancient though, right? It’s not a Harvester. So, it’s come forward in time and from Andromeda. Quite a long journey just to bring us a present! I also don’t think we can turn it down. They had some way of bypassing our shields before.”

-Glen, CO