The Lost Episode

You Are the Traffic
December 1, 2020
Home for the Holidays | Home of Mark & Kayce Danos
December 1, 2020
You Are the Traffic
December 1, 2020
Home for the Holidays | Home of Mark & Kayce Danos
December 1, 2020

[The Bridge, festively decorated.]

Kirk (recording): Captain’s Log, Stardate 3187.12. In our quest to find new life and new civilizations, the crew of the Enterprise pauses to honor old civilizations—specifically, an old Earth custom of gift-giving—symbols of the gold, frankincense, and myrrh given to the newborn savior of an ancient desert people. The custom—if we interpret Earth history correctly—involves great reverence and, in later centuries, a degree of revelry as well.

Spock: Humans have an amazing capacity for…

Scotty: …That’s right, Mr. Spock! You’re half-human. So, here’s a half-glass of Starfleet’s finest.

Kirk: It’s okay, Spock. Sip.

Bones: Jim, you really don’t want to see the antidote for Vulcan hangover! I’ll alert Sickbay now.

Kirk (recording): My gift to Mr. Spock is to fulfill his scientific curiosity and provide whatever actions necessary to investigate his latest discovery.

Spock: Captain, I’ve discovered a significant space-time distortion at Stardate 2020.12 in the vicinity of a small moon orbiting Earth.

Kirk: Mr. Spock, Bones, Uhura—Transporter Room. Mr. Sulu, you have the helm.

[Planet Surface, facing a large, unnatural structure with a white, domed top.]

Bones: What the devil is this?

Uhura (viewing the Tricorder): Captain, this location is called “Louisiana Superdome.”

Spock: My coordinates were accurate, Captain.  From space, it indeed looks like a small moon. (He shows Kirk the screen of his Tricorder.)

Kirk: Understood. Detail, fan out. Be careful: Shuttles travel on ground here. Bones, take the perimeter. Spock, Uhura—with me. We’re going inside this thing. Phasers on stun.

[Inside the moon-like structure. A few humans inside, loudly communicating.]

Uhura: Recording, Captain.

Spock: Captain, if I understand these geometric field formations correctly, I believe this to be an ancient form of athletic competition.

Kirk: Indeed, Mr. Spock. It was called “football”.

Uhura (reading the Tricorder): But if this is football, …

Kirk: …where are all the spectators?

[Nearby, inside a large, square building. Many humans inside, some rushing about, mostly dressed in white. Some are wheeled on chairs and beds. Resembles Sickbay.]

Bones: Well, this sure looks familiar.

Security Guard: Okay, pal. Where’s the mask? Can’t get past here without a mask.

Bones: But I’m a doctor!

Security Guard: Then you should know better. (handing Bones a mask) Put this on.

Bones: By God, man! Do you think I’m going into surgery like this?

Security Guard: Put it on, or I’ll MAKE you put it on! (He puts a hand on his pistol holster.)

Bones: Will you look at that! That’s ancient! (Bones shows his Phaser.) Here’s the latest model.

[Inside the moon-like structure.]

Spock: Captain, the archives of Earth’s history for this Stardate indicate a viral pandemic.

Kirk: That explains the few spectators.

Uhura: Are these the only ones left?

Spock: The only allowed inside. Restrictions established to control that which is uncontrollable.

Kirk (into Communicator): Bones, where are you? There’s uncontrolled disease…

[Inside a small room, Bones sits, hand-cuffed, with a Communicator in his face.]

Bones: Yeah! Tell me something I DON’T know!

[Inside the moon-like structure.]

Kirk: Restrictions. No spectating, no dining, no interactions, no… being human.

Spock: This is the space-time distortion, Captain. Time, as they perceive it, is paused for many.

Kirk: And for some, gone forever.

Uhura: Why uncontrollable, Captain? What don’t they understand in this time?

Spock: That the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Bones (heard through the Communicator): Just wear a damn mask…!

Spock: …in order to live long and prosper.

Kirk: Insightful, Mr. Spock. And logical. Now, let’s get the hell out of here. (into the Communicator) Scotty, beam us up.  …Scotty?

To be continued. POV