The contents of the Ship Logs are considered to be a "compilation" under the provisions of Title 17, U.S. Code (known as the Copyright Act): that is, "A work formed by the collection and assembling of preexisting materials or of data that is selected, coordinated or arranged in such a way that the resulting work as a whole constitutes an original work of authorship." As such, it is the property of the ship’s Captain; however, automatic transfer of ownership to STARSHIPS OF THE THIRD FLEET is effected upon publication of this mission by the ship’s Captain ipso facto.

As outlined in Circular 1 (Copyrighted Basics, Library of Congress, Washington DC, USGPO 1989-262-309/12), "copyrighted in each separate contribution to a periodical or other collective work is distinct from the copyright in the collective work as a whole and vests initially with the author of the contribution."

All eyes were fixed on the screen. The image had been the focus of attention for ten minutes, ever since Helm recorded the automatic shield response and received the identification beacon. Per Federation standing orders, the Starquest changed course to investigate.

When the skipper learned of what they had come upon, she became immediately concerned, and called a conference of department chiefs. She sat at the head of the table and watched the screen as the rest did. The derelict drifted lazily in the jet blackness of space. Its presence was a silent statement about the strange juxtaposition of two separate points on a very long timeline.

"The image on the screen," Dunning spoke, "is a visitor from the past. We need to decide what to do with it." She turned to the Helm chief. "Mr. Tal S'yn, your briefing, please."

The room's light faded, as Commander Tal S'yn bagful to speak. Immediately, he punched up a computer overlay to superimpose itself over the image on the screen, as stats on the vessel danced on the viewer.

"The vessel is a DY-500AZ orbital cryo-satellite, or sleeper as it has come to be known euphemistically. It is a late twentieth, early twenty-first century Terran commercial vessel used to store bodies of recently deceased or terminally ill in a crude cryogenic stasis in the hopes they would be revived in the future and cured by an more advanced medical technology. It is powered by nuclear fusion and the entire plant is monitored by a CRAY III, something they called a supercomputer. Hardly! The unit doesn't have one-millionth of the power of a PADD."

There were some derisive chuckles around the table.

Tal S'yn continued. "The vessel was designed for fifty occupants. We are picking up life signs from twenty. All on board systems are degenerative."

Commander Stevens sat back in his seat and threw out the first query, as much a challenge as inquiry. "Commander, you said this was a Terran orbital vehicle." A slight smile crossed the XO's face. "What is it doing out here light years from Earth?"

"Unknown." Stevens almost let a smirk escape, then the helmsman continued. "However our scans detected chronometric ionic residue on the structure, indicating travel through a time warp. Commander Edwards' department can confirm that."

Edwards nodded.

"MacGiver confirms chronotron particles. This is an early twenty-first century vessel; perhaps something, some force created by an extra-atmospheric discharge of a nuclear weapon opened a hole in the continuum. Or…"

Dunning was impatient with the theorizing.

"Moot points, gentlemen." The skipper stood and slowly walked to the screen. "The fact is it is here, now." She turned to look out over her department heads. "So, what do we do with it?"

Stevens leaned forward and sighed. "Nothing." He shook his head gravely. Let it go. I don't see how that could violate any general order."

"Does the prime directive apply here?" It was the CMO, Mitchell-Pyle.

Dunning shrugged. "I don't know." The captain frowned. "If it does, then it has to be a question of how?"

Commander Williams spoke next. "What about the Office of Temporal Affairs? What will they say?"

Stevens groaned. "Do we have to bring them in on it?"

Dunning quieted him. "Not right now…eventually. But, not now."

The XO sighed in relief.

Williams spoke up again. "Well, it seems to me that we have some sort of responsibility to… do … something, here." He pressed the point.

"I don't see how it affects the timeline." Mitchell-Pyle followed.

"At worst, the survivors are going to experience culture shock. Of course," she smiled wanly, "I am going to encourage resuscitation."

Dunning turned to study the CMO. "Why? Why resuscitation, doctor?" The captain leaned against the bulkhead. "What would we prove? That our technology is capable of doing it? We know that. What would we be doing? Bringing twenty people from the twenty-first century three-hundred years into a future they are not prepared for? That's a little cruel, isn't it?"

Kerrye looked a little upset, but backed up her point. "We have an obligation for their lives, captain." The CMO was tense.

Stevens shook his head. "No… no, we don't," he responded flatly. "We have an obligation to respond to the beacon, to investigate the vessel. That's all. We did that. We have fulfilled an obligation we had according to Federation standing general orders."

Edwards piped up. "All this might be academic." The science officer flipped a switch on the panel in front of him, throwing a close-up view of the power plant. "The nuclear generator is degrading at a rapid rate. It is fueled by plutonium."

That word sent a shock of disbelief around the table.

"It is thought to be an indefinite source of energy. Of course," he shrugged, "they knew little of the effects then." He frowned. "Actually, they did. But they chose to ignore them. Now, the escaping radiation is threatening the safety of the survivors."

Dunning screwed up her face. This was definitely distasteful. She was silent for a moment, and then turned to Mitchell-Pyle.

"Doctor, if we resuscitate the survivors, how certain are you that you can affect their cure?"

The CMO hesitated a moment, then offered, "Within ninety-six percent. Of course, I'll have to know specifics. But most of the terminal conditions of the time are easily treated now."

Dunning considered the answer, then addressed the XO; "Stevens, form a landing party. Evaluate the scene. Can we repair the power plant? If not, what can we do to transfer the survivors efficiently? Complete survey. Take Tal S'yn. He's the closest thing we have to an anthropologist at the moment."

Stevens rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Aye, Sir."

Chimes at the ready room door sounded, breaking the silence of the corridor. "In," Dunning answered.

The doors hissed and in stepped Tal S'yn. "Captain," he began, "the transfer is taking place. There was no effective way to repair the power plant. The reactor was critical."

Dunning looked up at the officer. "I know that, Commander. Is there something else? Something I don't know?

Tal S'yn nodded. "Yes," he produced a PADD. "We've run the identification files through the Federation Archives and Memory Alpha census records."

The Chief Helmsman laid the PADD on the skipper's desk. "One female suffered an aneurysm. She was placed in stasis at the age of thirty one From Wisconsin…North America. Her name was …is… Amanda Jane Anderson."

Dunning's eyes flew open as her hand reached for the PADD to confirm the information.

Tal S'yn leaned forward. "A.J., wasn’t that your maiden name? Anderson?"

Dunning nodded slowly, numbly. "Yes," she managed to whisper.

"From what I've been able to piece together, Amanda Jane Anderson is your great-great-great-great-great great grandmother. At least that.

Captain's Log:

All survivors from the S. S. Ferryman have been resuscitated and their various conditions treated by twenty-fourth century medical technology. Now the real task begins. I can't, in good conscience, isolate our visitors from the present or vice versa. I hope, however, to ease them into their first encounters with their future, and have asked the crew to be mindful of the "new world" our guests will be experiencing for the first time. We are enroute to Daran VI-D, five days out, where we will transfer the survivors to Federation officials. We have that time to introduce them to our time …their future. I trust my officers will acquit themselves admirably. As for myself, I have the unique opportunity to peer into my family's past and come face to face with the woman I was named after. I would be less than honest if I said that I wasn't apprehensive about introducing my ancestor to a namesake who is an Orion hybrid...

End Log.