June 2258
ShiKahr, Vulcan
Ben and Ambassador Spock sat facing each other in the guest room of Sarek's residence. Between them, a console projected several holographic pages displaying matter-energy conversion formulas, molecular diagrams, and technical schematics of replicators and transporters—Ben's chosen subjects for June.
Spock gestured towards the first holographic display, which showed a schematic representation of matter being converted into an energy stream before being reconstructed at a distant location.
"The matter-energy conversion principle relies on the equivalence equation, E = mc^2. It allows physical matter to be dematerialised into a stream of energy or subatomic particles and then reconstructed elsewhere. Transporters make use of this principle while deconstructing a person or object down to the subatomic or quantum level, converting the matter into an energy stream, transmitting it, and rematerialising it at the target location using a quantum pattern buffer. While replicators convert raw energy or recycled matter into inorganic items, industrial parts, and food by rearranging subatomic particles according to a stored computer pattern."
Ben studied the diagrams for a moment, following the projected sequence from the initial scan to the final reconstruction.
"How do we get these computer patterns?" he asked.
"The most straightforward way to get a computer pattern is to scan a real-world object. When an item is placed into a scanner, the computer maps its exact chemical composition, molecular bonds, and physical geometry down to the atom. Unlike transporters, which require highly volatile quantum-level data to track a person's conscious state, replicators operate at a much lower, more stable molecular or atomic level. This allows replicator files to be saved, compressed, and shared rather easily."
"Can replicators only store and replicate patterns up to molecular or atomic resolution? What about subatomic levels or quantum levels?"
"Unlike transporters, replicators are strictly limited to molecular or atomic resolution, which is the fundamental reason they cannot create living things, complex organic tissue, or certain exotic materials. This limitation is a deliberate engineering cutoff because while transporters can precisely track every single electron, quark, and subatomic spin state, they require such massive digital storage space that standard hard drives are rendered obsolete and dynamic quantum pattern buffers are needed. And even then, a transporter pattern can only be safely held in the buffer for roughly seven minutes before it starts suffering from quantum drift. In contrast, while replicators rearrange subatomic particles taken from a raw matter storage tank to form atoms, they do so using a standardised molecular grid. This allows them to use compressed, pixelated molecular approximations instead of exact subatomic blueprints."
"Are there any drawbacks to the molecular resolution limit of replicators?"
"It wouldn't be fair to call them drawbacks. Rather, there are boundaries. First of all, you cannot replicate a living animal or a replacement organ. Life relies on active quantum-level bio-electric states and neural pathways. So if you try to materialise a dog at molecular resolution, you will just get a perfectly shaped, inanimate, dead organic statue. Certain exotic elements—like Latinum or Dilithium—possess highly unstable or hyper-complex crystalline subatomic structures. At a mere molecular resolution, a replicator cannot recreate the quantum bonds required to keep these materials stable, causing the replication attempt to fail or result in useless radioactive sludge. And finally, when a replicator materialises a steak or a cup of tea, it builds the proteins and water molecules using standardised atomic templates. Because it lacks quantum randomness, the cellular structure is 'too perfect'. This can sometimes lead to people complaining that the food tastes slightly flat or synthetic."
Ben gave a small, knowing nod.
"I've noticed that. Not at first, but after a few weeks, it felt like every great cup of coffee was the same. So... what if someone tried to build a replicator with subatomic resolution?"
Spock considered the question before answering.
"If someone attempted to build a custom replicator with subatomic or quantum resolution, they would face several obstacles. The first hurdle is data storage. A subatomic replicator would need to track the position, momentum, spin, and quantum state of every single subatomic particle. To store a single cup of coffee at subatomic resolution would require roughly 10^28 kilobytes of data. Even a Starfleet vessel's bio-neural computer core cannot store this much permanent data. The second hurdle is the constant danger of a catastrophic nuclear explosion. To materialize an item at subatomic resolution, the machine must manipulate the strong and weak nuclear forces that bind quarks and atomic nuclei together. Any microsecond sync error or Heisenberg fluctuation during the printing process would cause the atomic nuclei to destabilise. The machine would instantly trigger a spontaneous nuclear fission or fusion reaction, vaporising everything in the vicinity."
Ben frowned, then looked up as another idea occurred to him.
"What if we use Vibranium?"
Spock inclined his head, an indication of interest.
"A very interesting suggestion. I have not yet fully tested every aspect of the samples you gave me, but I have discovered that Vibranium possesses a peculiar ability to absorb, store, and manipulate kinetic energy and vibrations at a subatomic quantum level. This would allow us to construct quantum-optical networks directly within the lattice of the metal itself. Information would then be stored by encoding data into the spin states of subatomic particles locked within the Vibranium matrix. Because it manipulates energy at a subatomic level rather than a molecular one, the data density of Vibranium scales down to the Planck length."
"...Meaning?"
"Meaning, a Vibranium core will allow us to layer data into the quantum harmonics of the metal. Mass-for-mass, a Vibranium core would out-compress a bio-neural core by a factor of billions to one. Vibranium's effectively limitless storage capacity at the scales we have examined means the machine could hold hundreds of high-resolution quantum blueprints indefinitely."
"That's great. What about the nuclear fluctuation problem?"
"Again, Vibranium's almost supernatural quantum-harmonic properties allow it to absorb, store, and seamlessly redistribute massive amounts of kinetic energy, sound, and force at a molecular level. If a subatomic printing matrix experiences a quantum fluctuation, the surrounding Vibranium containment field would instantly absorb the runaway nuclear energy. Instead of an explosion, the machine would simply pulse with a harmless purple glow, recycling the excess energy back into the system."
Ben's eyebrows rose.
"Wow. It's almost like Vibranium is a universal patch for these exact physics roadblocks." He turned towards Spock. "And what about rare materials like Dilithium with hyper-complex subatomic alignments?"
"Again, I have observed that Vibranium possesses a unique affinity for biological and advanced neural matter, seamlessly binding to organic cells and energy fields without disrupting them. A Vibranium-lined replication matrix would act as a highly effective static stabiliser, locking hyper-volatile subatomic bonds in place while the energy stream is being mapped out."
"So, building a replicator with quantum-level resolution would be possible with Vibranium?"
"Theoretically, yes. However, if such a machine were to be constructed, it wouldn't simply be an advanced replicator. It would be a device capable of rewriting the rules of this universe. It would allow effectively unlimited replication of previously unreplicable rare materials, such as pristine dilithium crystals or perfect, counterfeit-proof Gold-Pressed Latinum. Doctors could potentially fabricate functioning lungs, hearts, or neural tissue without requiring biological donors, provided the machine could reproduce the necessary biological structures and states. They could even scan a patient before an injury, and if the patient were later severely wounded or even vaporised, the machine might be able to reconstruct them at quantum resolution, provided the original pattern had captured and preserved the relevant bioelectric states. Whether that would restore the same conscious individual, rather than merely create a physically identical person, remains an unanswered question."
Ben remained thoughtful. The possibilities were extraordinary, but he had no intention of attempting such an ambitious project before understanding the technology properly. For now, he would focus on what the Federation had already developed.
---
Throughout June, Ben studied replicator technology and its underlying principles, including matter-energy conversion, molecular reconstruction, pattern storage, molecular templates, energy requirements, material synthesis, pattern degradation, recycling systems, waste conversion, safety mechanisms, industrial replicators, food replicators, and medical fabrication.
He paid particular attention to the differences between industrial and domestic systems. Although both relied on molecular reconstruction, industrial replicators had to produce precise, durable components, while food replicators prioritised consistency and efficiency. Medical fabrication demanded even greater accuracy, as structural defects could have serious consequences.
He did not rush to build a quantum-level replicator. He would certainly attempt it someday, but first he needed a thorough understanding of existing technology.
Transporters were his next subject. He studied molecular scanning, quantum-state recording, pattern buffers, matter streams, energy conversion, subspace transmission, pattern reconstruction, Heisenberg compensators, transporter range, signal degradation, pattern integrity, bioelectric pattern preservation, targeting, atmospheric transport, emergency transport, and transporter inhibitors.
Ben was considerably less interested in using transporters himself. His portals were far more convenient in terms of both distance and safety. Besides, he remembered a longstanding fear shared by many Star Trek fans, including himself: did a transporter move the original person, or did it destroy the original body and create a new one elsewhere?
He understood that the Federation regarded transporter travel as safe, but the philosophical question still troubled him.
Yeah, he definitely wasn't getting onto a transporter pad anytime soon.
That did not make the technology useless. Far from it. Transporters were among the Federation's most valuable inventions, allowing personnel and equipment to move between ships, stations, and planetary surfaces without conventional vehicles. Their applications in emergency medicine, search and rescue, exploration, and logistics were almost limitless.
Twenty-third-century transporters had an effective range of roughly 30,000 kilometres under favourable conditions. Their principal limitations included signal degradation and particle diffusion. As a matter stream travelled farther through open space, external interference could compromise its coherence and corrupt the pattern needed for reconstruction.
This was where Vibranium presented another promising possibility.
Working with Ambassador Spock, Ben began exploring whether a Vibranium lattice could improve the performance of transporter emitter arrays. Their preliminary hypothesis was that a carefully engineered lattice might help maintain the coherence of the transmitted matter stream, absorbing and redistributing disruptive energy before it could significantly interfere with the pattern.
If the concept proved viable, a Vibranium-lined transporter system might maintain pattern integrity over substantially greater distances. Depending on the success of the engineering, it could potentially extend the safe operational range from tens of thousands of kilometres to hundreds of thousands, opening the possibility of reliable ship-to-ship or ship-to-planet transport across much larger portions of a solar system.
Even if Ben never used the enhanced technology himself, it could prove invaluable to other spacefaring civilisations. Longer-range transporters would simplify logistics, improve emergency response, and reduce reliance on conventional spacecraft for transporting personnel and equipment.
By the end of June, Ben had gained a solid introduction to replicator and transporter technology. He was nowhere near mastering either field, but he could understand their principal components, follow technical documentation, and identify possible avenues for further research.
---
July 2258
ShiKahr, Vulcan
Ben sat at a workstation, surrounded by mechanical components and tools. At the centre of the cluttered table lay a miniature Arc reactor.
Carefully, he placed the Deuterite crystal—a naturally occurring solid hydrogen mineral—inside the central fuel assembly. After sealing the reactor, he tapped the attached computer console and ran a series of system diagnostics, checking the Vibranium containment structure, cooling channels, fuel assembly, and magnetic coils.
Ambassador Spock stood behind him, looking over his shoulder and observing his work with quiet interest.
After double-checking the readings, Ben activated the auxiliary capacitor bank, energising the superconducting electromagnetic coils and establishing the initial magnetic confinement field.
The fuel assembly extracted and ionised the Deuterite, producing a controlled supply of deuterium and tritium. High-frequency electromagnetic excitation, supplemented by the external startup power supply, heated the ionised fuel until it became plasma—a mixture of positively charged nuclei and free electrons.
The magnetic coils maintained the confinement field as the reactor progressively raised the plasma's energy towards the fusion ignition threshold. Once the necessary conditions were achieved, a fraction of the nuclei fused, releasing energy and energetic particles.
Ben watched the sensors without batting an eye.
Instead of using a Palladium core filled with deuterium gas, he had opted for a Deuterite crystal. He had also replaced the titanium-gold alloy and carbon steel components of the original Stark Industries design with Vibranium alloy.
Deuterite made the fusion reactions unusually productive, allowing the plasma to sustain itself with less external heating. The reactor's conversion system captured the released energy rather than drawing it directly from the glowing core.
Sensors continuously monitored plasma temperature, density, position, and fluctuations. Feedback controls adjusted the electromagnetic coils and heating system to counter instabilities, while the Vibranium alloy provided exceptional structural strength and energy-management properties. Its unusual characteristics helped the containment assembly withstand stresses that would have damaged ordinary materials.
Ben watched as the reactor transferred usable energy to a power-conditioning system, which regulated voltage, current, and output. The system supplied the connected equipment while reserving sufficient power for its own magnets, cooling, sensors, and control electronics.
He continued monitoring the readings for a few more minutes.
The reactor was producing a consistent power output of 31.8 GW—almost three times the projected 10.8 GW output of the original Stark Industries model. The core temperature stood at 2200 K, higher than the expected 1972 K, but the magnetic confinement field, reinforced by the Vibranium alloy, was working splendidly.
Everything appeared to be operating within safe parameters.
Ben finally turned towards Spock, who gave him an encouraging nod.
"Congratulations, Mr Carter. You have successfully built a miniature cold fusion reactor. Or as you like to call it - an Arc reactor. Well done."
Ben couldn't help smiling. He had done it.
Power generation and energy storage systems had been Ben's chosen subjects for July. Spock had begun with advanced solar power generators before guiding him through nuclear fusion and, eventually, cold fusion—a technology the Federation had mastered more than a century earlier.
Ben studied fusion reactions, magnetic confinement, plasma control, fusion reactors, deuterium, tritium, energy extraction, reactor efficiency, plasma stability, and magnetic containment.
Once he had sufficiently understood the underlying principles, he showed Spock the Arc reactor designs he had obtained from Stark Industries.
To Ambassador Spock, a Vulcan from the twenty-fourth century, the designs were rudimentary. Nevertheless, the concept of miniaturising a fusion reactor intrigued him enough to agree to help Ben with the project.
He remained involved throughout the development process, offering guidance whenever necessary while allowing his student to solve most of the engineering problems independently.
His time and effort were not wasted. During the third week of July, Ben successfully created the first working prototype.
Naturally, Ben was ecstatic.
He could already power his magitech using magic and operate conventional devices using advanced solar panels. However, those approaches were practical mainly for individual devices or relatively small systems. Supplying an entire town or city would require something considerably more powerful.
Ben already possessed the schematics for a larger Arc reactor, but having the designs was not the same as understanding how to construct one safely and efficiently. It was only after arriving in a twenty-third-century civilisation with a mature understanding of cold fusion, and gaining Ambassador Spock as his guide and mentor, that he had finally managed to build the legendary miniature Arc reactor.
Having access to Vibranium and Deuterite certainly helped. Together, they had enabled him to achieve a power output almost three times the original projected estimate.
With the prototype working and its performance recorded, Ben was satisfied with his progress in fusion technology.
His next subject was one of the cornerstones of the Star Trek universe: antimatter.
Antimatter was a substance composed of antiparticles—such as positrons and antiprotons—that mirrored ordinary matter particles but carried opposite electrical charges. When antimatter encountered normal matter, such as deuterium, the two could annihilate one another, converting their combined mass into energy and energetic particles.
The resulting energy release was vastly greater than that of conventional chemical reactions and substantially exceeded the energy obtainable from fusion for an equivalent quantity of fuel. In Federation starships, controlled matter-antimatter reactions supplied the enormous power required by warp propulsion systems.
Naturally occurring antimatter could occasionally be harvested from planetary ion maelstroms and other high-energy cosmic phenomena. However, Starfleet also manufactured it artificially at major orbital facilities and specialised production stations.
Solar-fusion charge-reversal devices, powered by solar energy, processed proton and neutron beams into antideuterons. These were combined with positron beams generated by accelerators to produce antihydrogen, specifically antideuterium.
The manufacturing process was energy-intensive and inefficient. Producing antimatter required more energy than the antimatter would ultimately release, resulting in a net energy deficit of approximately twenty-four per cent in the production process Ben was studying. Nevertheless, large stellar or solar power inputs made industrial-scale production practical for a civilisation capable of harnessing them.
Once manufactured, antimatter had to be stored in specialised magnetic containment fields, commonly called magnetic bottles, suspended in a vacuum. Even brief contact with ordinary matter could initiate annihilation, releasing energy with potentially catastrophic consequences.
The challenge, therefore, was not merely to produce antimatter, but to store it securely and release it in a controlled manner.
That was where dilithium entered the equation.
Dilithium was a rare, naturally occurring crystalline mineral that served as an essential component of starship warp cores. When exposed to a high-frequency electromagnetic field, its unusual crystalline properties allowed it to regulate the interaction between matter and antimatter.
Within the established engineering framework Ben was studying, the dilithium lattice became sufficiently porous and non-reactive to light-element antimatter, such as antihydrogen or antideuterium, under the appropriate conditions. Its unusual relationship with subspace allowed antimatter streams to pass through the crystal without reacting directly with the lattice in the same manner as ordinary matter.
Acting as a regulator, the crystal helped control the interaction between the incoming matter and antimatter streams at a carefully managed reaction point.
Rather than allowing the annihilation energy to disperse uncontrollably, the warp-core assembly channelled the released energy into a highly energetic plasma stream. That energy could then be directed through the ship's power systems to supply the enormous requirements of its warp nacelles and other critical equipment.
Ben studied matter-antimatter annihilation, antimatter storage, magnetic containment, dilithium-mediated power regulation, energy conversion, reaction control, containment failure, and warp power generation.
The more he learned, the more he appreciated the engineering discipline required to harness such an extraordinarily powerful energy source. The system depended on multiple layers of containment, precise regulation, and safeguards designed to prevent a failure from escalating into a catastrophe.
He had no intention of attempting to build a matter-antimatter reactor anytime soon. Understanding the principles came first; attempting to engineer one would require considerably more knowledge and experience.
Nevertheless, the subject was worth learning.
Fusion power—even the miniature cold-fusion reactor he had just developed—would comfortably meet the energy requirements of most of his foreseeable projects. His magitech would benefit enormously from a compact, reliable power source, and a larger reactor could potentially supply the needs of an entire settlement.
But if he or his friends eventually embarked on traditional interstellar travel, fusion power might no longer be sufficient.
Ben preferred to prepare for that possibility before it became an immediate problem. After all, as the saying went, it was better to have and not need than to need and not have.
---
August 2258
ShiKahr, Vulcan
For August, Ben chose to study Federation shielding and phaser technology.
Shielding systems in the Star Trek universe worked by projecting an energetic layer of spatial distortion and graviton particles around a starship, space station, or planet. Specialised graviton polarity generators powered the system, distributing the field through a network of hull-mounted emitters or, in some configurations, a central navigational deflector dish.
By generating a concentrated field of gravitons, these systems manipulated local spacetime to create a protective barrier capable of intercepting physical matter and energy weapons. When phasers, disruptors, or torpedoes struck the shields, the field absorbed and dispersed much of the incoming energy, radiating it into space or routing the resulting feedback through the ship's power conduits.
Depending on tactical requirements, shields could form a wide protective bubble, keeping explosions farther from the hull at the cost of spreading the field more thinly, or conform closely to the ship's surface as a protective sheath, reducing its defensive profile while concentrating stress nearer the structure.
Ben found the mechanics of shield harmonics particularly interesting. Starships did not need to lower their shields to fire their own weapons. Instead, the tactical computer coordinated the shield generator and weapon emitters, allowing outgoing phaser beams or disruptor discharges to pass through the defensive field by matching its phase and harmonic characteristics.
However, this reliance on specific frequencies created a vulnerability. If an enemy discovered a ship's shield frequency, it could modulate its weapons to match the field and potentially bypass the defences entirely. Starships countered this threat by continually rotating their shield frequencies through complex, pseudorandom algorithms.
He also studied how shield grids accommodated the launch of physical weapons. When a photon torpedo was fired, the computer calculated its precise trajectory and briefly weakened a tiny section of the shield grid in front of the launch tube. The torpedo passed through the temporary opening, and the shields immediately restored their full protective configuration.
During the first half of the month, Ben studied deflector shields, structural integrity fields, navigational deflectors, graviton emitters, subspace fields, shield harmonics, energy dissipation, shield modulation, frequency adaptation, shield regeneration, ablative protection, and radiation shielding.
As he became more familiar with Federation technology, he began considering ways to improve it.
Once again, Vibranium provided several intriguing possibilities.
When Starfleet shields were struck by physical weapons such as photon torpedoes or kinetic projectiles, the resulting impact could transmit considerable mechanical stress through the ship. Although the shields absorbed much of the energy, the residual feedback could damage conduits, overload consoles, and throw crew members off their feet.
Ben theorised that a Vibranium-infused hull matrix, or dampening rings positioned behind the shield emitter grids, could absorb much of the residual kinetic energy before it propagated through the vessel. Properly integrated, such a system might substantially reduce structural stress and prevent the secondary damage that often accompanied shield impacts.
He considered another problem: sustained bombardment.
Even effective shields consumed enormous amounts of power under prolonged attack. Engineers frequently had to reroute auxiliary power from other systems to maintain defensive coverage.
Vibranium's capacity to absorb and store energy suggested a potential solution. If a suitably engineered shielding grid could capture a portion of the energy from incoming phaser and disruptor attacks, the ship might recycle that energy to recharge its own weapons or supplement other power systems. Under carefully controlled conditions, the stored energy might even be released as a concentrated kinetic discharge to push nearby enemy vessels away.
The idea required considerable experimentation, but its potential was difficult to ignore.
Ben also considered combining Starfleet's graviton-based shields with Vibranium-stabilised harmonic fields. Rather than relying entirely on a vulnerable frequency-dependent energy barrier, the Vibranium lattice might provide a more stable anchor for the field, helping it resist attempts to bypass the shields through frequency matching.
If successful, such a system could make defensive barriers substantially more resilient against sophisticated enemy weapons.
Finally, he turned his attention to navigational deflectors.
Starships travelling at warp relied on forward deflector systems to clear their paths of dust, micrometeoroids, and other debris. At such velocities, even a relatively small particle could inflict catastrophic damage if the deflector failed.
Ben wondered whether Vibranium alloy could provide an additional layer of passive protection along vulnerable leading surfaces, particularly around the saucer section and nacelles. Although it could not replace the deflector's function of clearing a path through space, a suitably engineered alloy might help absorb or redistribute the energy from debris impacts that escaped the primary system. Even a partial backup could prove valuable during a deflector failure.
Ben recorded each proposal in his notes. Some were relatively straightforward engineering concepts; others would require extensive research before their feasibility could be established. Nevertheless, he intended to leave his findings with Pike before returning to his own universe.
Once satisfied with his progress in shielding technology, Ben moved on to its offensive counterpart: phasers.
Phasers, short for PHASed Energy Rectification, were directed-energy particle weapons that fired streams of high-energy subatomic particles called nadions. They converted stored energy from a power cell—or energy supplied by a larger power system—into a controlled particle beam through specialised focusing and emission components.
The resulting nadions could disrupt the molecular bonds and other forces holding matter together. By adjusting the beam's modulation, intensity, and diameter, the weapon could deliver different effects depending on its selected power setting.
Starfleet phasers featured up to sixteen distinct power settings.
* Stun (Settings 1–3): Disrupted nervous-system or motor functions without ordinarily causing permanent physical damage.
* Heating and Burning (Settings 4–7): Produced thermal effects capable of inflicting burns, cutting through metal or rock, and killing organic targets.
* Vaporisation and Disintegration (Settings 8–16): Applied sufficient energy to destroy targets by disrupting their molecular structure and, at higher settings, producing extensive material disintegration.
Ben was not interested in phasers because of their destructive capacity. At this point, he could level mountains and cities with a single spell. He hardly needed another way to unleash devastation.
What interested him was their versatility.
A phaser could cut, drill, mine, and process materials, making it useful far beyond combat. Its adjustable output allowed a single weapon platform to perform tasks that would otherwise require several specialised tools.
More importantly, phasers offered a practical means of incapacitating people without resorting to lethal force.
A weapon designed to operate specifically at stun settings could allow peacekeepers to neutralise immediate threats, disperse violent riots, and apprehend criminals while minimising the risk of permanent injury or death. Such safeguards were essential to any civilised society that valued both public safety and individual lives.
With that in mind, Ben studied phaser physics, energy containment, beam modulation, stun settings, heat settings, disintegration, wide-beam operation, pulse phasers, phaser arrays, power regulation, targeting systems, and energy dissipation.
As with shielding technology, he soon began exploring how Vibranium might improve the design.
Phasers operating at high power generated substantial heat and internal mechanical stresses. Ben theorised that incorporating Vibranium alloy into their prefiring chambers and structural housings could help absorb excess heat and redistribute energy generated during discharge.
If the material performed as expected, handheld phasers might operate at higher settings for longer periods without overheating, while ship-mounted arrays could sustain more powerful firing cycles with less thermal stress and reduced demands on conventional cooling systems.
The second possibility concerned power storage.
Federation hand phasers relied on compact energy cells, while larger weapons could draw power from the ship's main systems. Vibranium's unusual energy-storage properties suggested that it might serve as the foundation for more capable power cells.
A properly engineered Vibranium-matrix battery could potentially store substantially more usable energy within the same volume, allowing a Type 2 hand phaser to carry the energy reserves of a phaser rifle without a corresponding increase in size or weight.
The practical limits would depend on the design of the storage matrix, its charging system, and the weapon's ability to regulate the energy safely. Nevertheless, the possibility was promising enough to warrant further investigation.
By the end of August, Ben had gained a solid understanding of the principles underlying Federation shields and phasers, along with a collection of ideas for improving both technologies through the application of Vibranium.
---
September 2258
ShiKahr, Vulcan
September proved to be Ben's busiest month yet. With his departure approaching, he had chosen three final subjects to study under Ambassador Spock: artificial intelligence, holography, and artificial gravity.
He began with artificial intelligence.
By the twenty-third century, AI was already highly advanced and ubiquitous throughout Federation society. Starship computers could process vast quantities of information in real time, manage life-support systems, coordinate weapons, and converse naturally with crew members. Yet even these sophisticated systems had limitations. Contradictory logical inputs could sometimes confuse their decision-making processes, while carefully constructed commands could exploit weaknesses in their programming.
Ben studied machine learning, neural networks, adaptive algorithms, heuristic systems, pattern recognition, natural-language processing, decision systems, autonomous systems, computer cognition, machine ethics, and artificial consciousness.
However, the deeper he ventured into the subject, the more questions arose.
He remembered Cortana from Halo. She had been far more than an advanced computer program; she possessed consciousness, individuality, and a distinct personality. That raised questions Ben found difficult to answer through technical documentation alone.
When did an artificial intelligence cease to be merely sophisticated software and become something more? What prerequisites were necessary for such a transformation? How should an artificial intelligence with genuine self-awareness be treated? And was self-awareness, by itself, sufficient to establish personhood?
These were not merely engineering problems. They touched on philosophy, ethics, and the very definition of life.
Greater processing power and more sophisticated algorithms could produce increasingly complex behaviour, but complexity alone did not necessarily establish consciousness. Determining where the boundary lay would require more than simply examining an AI's computational architecture.
He made detailed notes on the subject, intending to revisit the questions as his understanding of computer science advanced.
After artificial intelligence, Ben turned to holography.
In the twenty-third century, holographic technology within the United Federation of Planets remained relatively primitive compared with what would become possible in the following century. Federation systems could generate convincing three-dimensional projections and immersive environments, but they were computationally demanding and physically limited.
Unlike the twenty-fourth-century holodecks, which used sophisticated force fields and environmental manipulation to create seemingly boundless spaces, twenty-third-century recreation rooms relied primarily on projections across the walls of a physical chamber. A person walking through a simulated forest could enjoy a convincing visual experience, but the illusion had its limits. Walk too far in one direction, and the physical wall would bring the excursion to an abrupt end.
This was where having Ambassador Spock as a mentor proved particularly valuable.
Having witnessed Ben's aptitude and genuine enthusiasm for learning, Spock decided to introduce him to technologies beyond those available in the twenty-third century. He took Ben aboard the Jellyfish, his personal ship, which he had brought with him to Vulcan.
There, Ben studied artificial intelligence and holographic systems using selected technical knowledge from Spock's own time in the twenty-fourth century.
The differences were substantial. He learned about isolinear and bio-neural computer architectures, asynchronous positronic brains, advanced ethical subroutines, and expandable matrices capable of integrating emotion chips. These technologies represented important distinctions between the comparatively rudimentary androids of the twenty-third century and more sophisticated artificial beings, such as Lieutenant Commander Data.
The holographic systems of the twenty-fourth century were equally impressive. They could produce convincing sound, simulate physical environments, interact with objects, manipulate limited amounts of physical matter, and function as independent interactive entities.
Ben was especially interested in adaptive, autonomous photonic beings, including the Emergency Medical Holograms. Unlike conventional holographic projections, these systems could interact with their surroundings, respond to changing circumstances, and perform sophisticated tasks without requiring constant supervision.
The distinction between an ordinary holographic simulation and an artificial entity capable of independent thought fascinated him. It brought him back to his earlier questions about artificial consciousness and personhood.
If a holographic intelligence could reason, learn, adapt, and exhibit convincing individuality, what precisely distinguished it from an artificial being housed in a physical android body?
Ben did not find a definitive answer, but he gained a much clearer understanding of the technological foundations that made such developments possible.
During the final week of September, Ben turned to artificial gravity.
He was already highly proficient in gravity magic, but magical manipulation and technological engineering were two different disciplines. He understood how to influence gravitational forces through magic; what he lacked was a systematic understanding of how Starfleet generated artificial gravity throughout a spacecraft and maintained it under a wide range of operating conditions.
Artificial gravity was among the most fundamental technologies employed by the Federation. Unlike warp propulsion or defensive shields, it was designed to operate reliably in the background, allowing crews to work under normal gravitational conditions even when other ship systems encountered difficulties.
Starfleet vessels generated artificial gravity through gravity plating installed beneath their decks. The plating contained specialised graviton-generating components powered through the ship's Electro-Plasma System, or EPS. Once activated, these components produced controlled gravitational fields that pulled objects towards the floor of the relevant deck.
The fields were carefully regulated to provide consistent gravity throughout living quarters, corridors, laboratories, and other working spaces. Environmental controls could also adjust gravitational conditions in individual areas to accommodate species with different physiological requirements.
However, artificial gravity alone could not protect a crew from the effects of a starship's acceleration.
If a vessel accelerated abruptly from rest to high velocity, its occupants would experience enormous inertial forces. Without compensation, sudden changes in momentum could cause catastrophic injuries.
That was the purpose of the Inertial Dampening System (IDS).
Working alongside artificial gravity, the IDS used a network of controlled force fields to counteract the effects of acceleration, changes in trajectory, and external impacts. By generating compensating forces within the ship, it prevented the crew from experiencing the full effects of the vessel's movements. When a starship manoeuvred sharply or accelerated towards warp speed, the system adjusted accordingly, allowing its occupants to remain relatively stable.
Starfleet also incorporated multiple safeguards to reduce the risk of a complete gravity failure. Gravity plating could retain residual energy after a power interruption, allowing the system to continue operating for a limited period. This helped explain why gravity might persist aboard a disabled vessel even after its primary power systems had failed.
The exact duration depended on the condition of the equipment and its remaining energy reserves, but the systems were designed to provide a substantial margin of safety.
Artificial gravity could also be adjusted to accommodate species requiring different gravitational conditions. Such flexibility was essential aboard Federation vessels, where Human, Vulcan, and other alien crew members might share the same ship.
Ben studied gravitational fields, graviton theory, artificial gravity generators, localised gravity, gravity gradients, inertial compensation, structural stress, acceleration compensation, and gravitational navigation.
Although he already possessed considerable practical experience with gravity magic, the technological approach offered a different perspective. It emphasised consistency, controlled field generation, system integration, and reliable operation across an entire vessel.
As September came to an end, so did Ben's months-long learning spree in ShiKahr.
It was finally time to return home.
---
1st October 2258
ShiKahr, Vulcan
Ben placed his hand over the tiny Vibranium cube resting on the table. The storage device contained all the digital notes, study materials, and technical documents he had been studying over the past seven months, along with numerous e-books, PDFs, video lectures, and self-paced learning modules from various Federation courses that he had downloaded for future reference.
With a thought, the cube vanished into the storage ring on his finger.
He looked around the guest room in Ambassador Sarek's residence. He had no particular attachment to the place, but he had spent more than half a year here. His gaze settled on the study table where he had sat with Ambassador Spock countless times, discussing different aspects of Federation technology. Then he looked towards the workstation where he had assembled his first Arc reactor.
Perhaps, one day, he would look back on this room as the true beginning of his magitech journey.
Ben turned towards the doorway, where Ambassador Spock stood quietly, watching him.
"Well, that's the last of it," Ben said with a wry smile.
Spock nodded towards the ring on his finger. "A very useful tool, that is. I wish I had something as convenient during my Starfleet days."
Ben glanced down at his ring and chuckled. "Yep. It's kind of an unspoken rule among wizards to always carry some spatial equipment when going on a journey." He looked pointedly at the storage ring on Spock's finger, which he had gifted the aged Vulcan the previous day. "Hopefully, you'll be able to enjoy the same perk from now on."
Spock looked down at his own ring.
"Yes..." he replied cryptically. "I believe I will."
He raised his eyes to Ben. "Shall we?"
Ben walked out of the room, and Spock followed him. Together, they descended the stairs and exited the house into the courtyard.
The sun had just set, but the air remained hot and dry. Beneath the twilight sky stood Ambassador Sarek and his wife, Amanda Grayson. Alongside them were Commander Spock, Captain Pike, and Jim Kirk, who had all arrived only a few minutes earlier.
Ben approached the couple who had generously hosted him for the past several months.
"Ambassador Sarek... Mrs Grayson... thank you again, for letting me stay here for the last few months."
"Please, think nothing of it," Sarek replied. "After what you did for us, it was the least we could do."
Amanda smiled warmly. "And I for one, enjoyed having the company of another human... especially one as interesting as you, Ben."
Ben smiled back. "This is goodbye then, I guess. Farewell. May our paths cross again... if fate wills it so."
"Good luck," Amanda said.
Sarek gave the traditional Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper."
Ben nodded respectfully before moving towards Captain Pike. As he approached, he noticed that the captain looked unusually tired.
"Woah, been pulling all nighters, Captain? You know you really shouldn't do that... especially at your age."
"Ha ha," Pike replied sarcastically. "I wish I could take it easy like you. Unfortunately, I've been run ragged the last few weeks over that fiasco in London."
"I heard about that on the news. There was an attack of some sort on a Starfleet facility, wasn't it?"
"Close enough. Except the attack didn't happen from the outside. A Starfleet division was experimenting with an advanced multitronic computer system for threat analysis. But somehow the AI went rogue. When they discovered this and attempted to shut it down, it rerouted command functions through new data lines and tried to take control of the city's primary power grid. Thankfully it was stopped before it was too late, but not before it caused a lot of collateral damage. Admiral Marcus, who was in the facility at the time, barely escaped with his life."
Ben's expression changed slightly.
Huh.
He remembered the warning he had given Marcus a few months earlier and wondered whether the incident was connected to it.
"Is he going to be okay?"
"He is fine. Just taking a break. But in the meantime, the rest of us have got our plates full. Anyway, here."
Pike reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small box, extending it towards Ben.
"I know you said you didn't want one, but top brass seemed to think otherwise. And for some reason, Admiral Marcus especially insisted on it."
Ben accepted the box curiously and opened it.
Inside lay a medal: a stylised United Federation of Planets emblem set on a gold disk, a silver five-pointed star, and a red-white-blue ribbon. The decoration was carefully arranged within its case, its polished surfaces catching the fading light.
Inside the lid were the words:
THE FEDERATION MEDAL OF HONOUR
Awarded to — Benjamin Carter
For courage, heroism and self-sacrifice
above and beyond the call of duty.
Ben stared at the medal.
Slowly, he lifted it from its case, feeling its weight in his hand—and, somehow, in his mind as well.
He knew what he had accomplished. His intervention had saved Vulcan, its six billion inhabitants, seven Federation starships, and thousands of Starfleet personnel. By any reasonable measure, those deeds were more than sufficient to merit the award.
Yet a part of him felt as though he had cheated.
He had arrived in this universe with a plan and followed it step by step. Even when he had entered the warp core, he had been fairly confident that he would survive. Unlike many other recipients of the medal, he had not knowingly accepted a near-certain death to save the day.
But wasn't that the whole point?
Wasn't that why he had begun studying magical theory while he was still a toddler? Why he had started practising magic at seven? Why he had undergone the Draconic Bloodline Evolution ritual? Why he had spent countless nights learning increasingly powerful spells from the Grimoire?
So that he could become powerful enough to face any problem. So that he would never have to stand helplessly by while someone sacrificed themselves. So that no tragedy would happen on his watch.
And now, having become powerful enough to confront an existential threat without losing anyone or anything, was he really going to sulk because the task had proved easier than expected?
Hell no.
He had saved those people. He had saved an entire planet.
It was a commendable achievement, one that deserved to be celebrated rather than dismissed simply because he had prepared well enough to survive it.
With that realisation, he felt a weight lift from his chest. He looked up at Pike, who offered him an approving smile and nod.
"Congratulations. You deserve it."
Ben glanced towards Commander Spock and Kirk. Both nodded in agreement, though Jim added a small smile of his own.
Ben returned the medal to its case and carefully closed the lid. Then he looked back at Pike with a smile.
"Thanks, Chris. Now I'm really glad I got you something in return."
He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small cloth bag.
Pike stared at it. "What's this?"
Ben smirked. "See for yourself."
He offered the bag to the captain.
Pike accepted it, eyeing Ben suspiciously before slipping his hand inside. He expected to feel the bottom almost immediately, but his fingers encountered nothing. Puzzled, he pushed his hand farther in, then his forearm, until his fingers finally brushed against something solid. He grasped it and pulled it out.
What emerged was a heavy, silver-grey brick of metal.
Ben gestured towards the bag in Pike's hand.
"This, my dear captain, is a bag of holding—an ordinary bag enchanted with a spatial folding charm. It contains an inner volume of 64 cubic feet and will always weigh 5 pounds, regardless of what is placed inside."
Pike looked from the bag to Ben, his surprise evident.
Ben gestured towards the metal brick in the captain's other hand.
"And that is Vibranium, the same metal my suit of armour and most other stuff is made of. During the course of my studies, Ambassador Spock and I discovered that Vibranium could be used to improve almost every facet of Federation technology, whether it be replicators, transporters, energy production, shields or phasers."
He then pulled a duotronic chip from his pocket and offered it to Pike.
"I have noted down all my observations and theories on this. And there's about a 100 pounds of processed Vibranium in the bag. Just like dilithium, Vibranium can't be replicated by standard replicators, but if you can follow my notes and build a quantum resolution replicator as I have theorized, then you will be able to make more Vibranium, along with everything else that is currently considered unreplicable."
Silence fell over the courtyard.
Everyone present, except Ambassador Spock, stared at Ben in astonishment.
The implications were enormous. A hundred pounds of Vibranium was an extraordinary gift in itself, but Ben was also handing Starfleet a collection of research notes detailing potential improvements to some of its most important technologies. More significantly, he was giving them a theoretical path towards replicating materials that their existing technology could not reproduce.
Pike finally let out a sigh. He returned the Vibranium brick to the bag and accepted the chip from Ben. After examining it for a moment, he slipped it into his pocket.
Shaking his head, he looked at the young wizard.
"I don't know how you came to be here... but boy am I glad you did."
He extended his hand.
"Thank you, Ben. For everything."
Ben shook it firmly. "It was my pleasure, captain."
Pike smiled. "Safe travels, Mr Carter."
Ben nodded before moving towards Commander Spock.
"Mr Spock."
The younger Vulcan returned his greeting with a respectful nod. "Mr Carter."
Ben then approached Kirk, smiling as he did so.
"Well Jim, looks like this is where we part ways."
"Looks like. You sure you don't wanna stick around for a bit longer? I could show you some really fun spots back home."
Ben laughed. "Maybe next time. For now, I got some places to be."
He extended his hand for a handshake.
"Nah, bring it in," Jim said, pulling him into a hug instead.
Ben laughed and patted him on the back.
"Good luck, Jim. And take care."
"You too."
Jim released him and stepped back.
"Until next time."
Ben nodded. "Until next time."
For a moment, Ben looked at all of them one last time: Sarek and Amanda, who had given him a home during his stay on Vulcan; Pike, who had trusted him despite knowing so little about him; the two Spocks, each representing a different stage of a life Ben had helped alter; and Kirk, who had become a friend in the brief time they had known each other.
Then his gaze settled on Ambassador Spock, who stood quietly a little distance away, waiting for him.
Ben approached the aged Vulcan.
"What? No pearls of wisdom for your soon-to-be-gone student?"
"From what I've observed during these last seven months, Mr Carter, wisdom is not one of the attributes you are lacking in."
Ben grinned. "Well gee, Mr Spock, that sounded almost like a compliment."
"It was."
"Then, I'm honoured."
Ben gave a small bow.
"Thank you, Mr Spock, for taking the time to guide me... to nurture me. Your assistance was invaluable. I wouldn't have achieved half of what I did without your help. I will always look back fondly at the time we spent together."
"As will I. Teaching you was a pleasure I had not expected to experience during this part of my life... and I am grateful for it. However, I hope you realise that your education in the Federation sciences is far from over. In fact, it has just begun."
Ben nodded. "I understand that. I promise, I will continue my studies without slacking off."
"I'm sure you will. Nevertheless, I would still like to oversee your progress for a while longer."
Ben frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I would like to accompany you to your world, Mr Carter, and continue overseeing your education. That is, if it is not a problem."
Ben stared at him in surprise. He had not expected that.
"But what about... here?" he asked, gesturing around them.
Spock sighed.
"Mr Carter... Ben... as you well know... this is not my world... this is not my time..." He gestured towards Commander Spock, who stood a short distance away. "It is his. Every moment I stay here, I risk causing a temporal incident. It will be for the good of all if I leave before that happens."
He paused before continuing.
"I have been observing you ever since we met. You have been in this universe for more than seven months, and yet there has been no terrible development. This leads me to believe that whatever method you used to travel across dimensions might be stable enough for me to cross over to yours without any dreadful consequences."
Ben hesitated.
"...But... what about them?" He gestured towards Ambassador Sarek and Amanda. "What about your family?"
Spock looked at the couple. For a moment, his expression softened.
"... I came to terms with the loss of my parents a long time ago. I am grateful for the last few months that I have spent in their company."
He turned back to Ben.
"But I can't continue staying here, knowing that my very presence might jeopardize their lives."
Ben studied the elderly Vulcan for a moment.
"... Are you sure?"
Spock nodded. "I am."
Ben sighed. "Very well... Do you need time to pack your stuff?"
"No need." Spock raised his hand, displaying the storage ring on his finger. "I have it all right here."
Ben glanced at the ring curiously.
"What would you have done if I didn't give you that ring?"
"I'm sure I would have thought of something. Thankfully... I didn't have to."
Ben chuckled softly.
Together, they returned to the others and explained that Ambassador Spock had decided to accompany Ben to his universe. From their reactions, it was apparent that Spock had already discussed his decision with Sarek and Amanda. Neither appeared surprised, although Amanda seemed saddened by the prospect of another farewell.
Pike, Commander Spock, and Kirk were considerably more surprised, but they understood the elderly Vulcan's reasoning. Temporal interference was among Starfleet's most serious concerns, and remaining in a timeline that was not his own presented risks that Spock was unwilling to ignore.
Once the explanations were complete, everyone gathered in the courtyard watched as Ben summoned the Anywhere Door.
A flash of light illuminated the courtyard, and a burnished wooden door bearing the Hogwarts crest materialised before them.
Kirk examined it with an unimpressed expression.
"This is it? This is the all-powerful device that allows you to safely travel across universes? ...Looks little more than every other door I've seen in my life."
Ben smirked.
"And what exactly were you expecting? A 20 feet tall monstrosity made of gold and platinum and studded with glowing gems?"
Kirk grinned. "Something like that."
He pointed towards the inscription along the top edge of the door.
"What's that?"
"It's ancient runes. It reads — Help will always be given here to those who deserve it."
Ambassador Spock nodded approvingly. "A sound philosophy."
Ben turned towards the elderly Vulcan.
"Ready?"
Spock took a deep breath and nodded.
He approached the Anywhere Door and opened it. Beyond lay a room with stone walls, illuminated by a soft, white light.
Before crossing the threshold, Spock turned back one last time. He looked slowly at everyone gathered in the courtyard, acknowledging each of them with a quiet nod. Then he stepped through the doorway.
Ben watched him disappear before turning towards the others. He offered them a smile and a nod, then began to follow.
"Hey, wait a second," Kirk called.
Ben stopped and turned around.
"You never told us who built this thing. A powerful wizard who could see across spacetime, right?"
Ben smiled mischievously.
"Didn't I? Huh. Must've slipped my mind. Anyway, this great and powerful wizard was named...Benjamin Carter. Ciao, everyone."
He gave them a jaunty wave, turned his back on their stupefied expressions, and walked through the doorway.
The Anywhere Door shut behind him.
---
12th June 1995
Hogwarts
Ben took a deep breath, allowing the familiar surroundings to wash over him.
"Home sweet home."
Ambassador Spock looked around curiously.
"I assume we are currently at Hogwarts?"
"That's right. We are currently in my lab located inside the Arcane Club — a place where me and my friends study, train and socialize."
Ben checked his Wiphone, which had already synchronised with the local ley line.
"It's 7:34 pm. My friends might still be in the club. Come on, I will introduce you."
He started towards the exit, then paused and glanced back at Spock.
"But remember — not a word about me going inside a malfunctioning warp core. No one here needs to know about that."
Ambassador Spock raised an eyebrow.
"Are you asking me to lie, Mr Carter?"
"No, no... I'm just... asking you not to... voluntarily provide unnecessary information... unless specifically asked for."
Spock regarded him for a moment.
"...Very well."
Ben let out a relieved sigh.
He crossed the room and pressed his palm against the glass door. A moment later, the doorway materialised, allowing him to open it and step into the corridor. Ambassador Spock followed.
The short hallway was brightly illuminated by floating light bulbs. Ben walked along it before stopping outside the study room.
Through the transparent glass wall, he could see his friends and his sister seated around the large circular table, apparently engrossed in their studies. It made sense. Today was the twelfth of June, which meant their final examinations must be underway.
Fortunately, as a Triwizard champion, Ben had been exempted from the end-of-year tests.
He smiled at the familiar sight, opened the door, and stepped inside.
"Hey, guys."
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then everyone turned towards him, surprise spreading across their faces. For them, Ben had been gone for more than three months. His sudden reappearance was the last thing any of them had expected.
Then the room erupted.
"Ben!" Harry and Neville exclaimed.
"You're back!" Rachel and Tracey cried.
"Welcome back!" Luna added cheerfully.
Harry, Neville, Rachel, Daphne, and Tracey all rose and hurried towards him, eager to greet their returning friend.
But someone reached him first.
The moment Hermione saw him, she sprang to her feet and rushed across the room like a runaway Bludger, nearly crashing into him.
Ben barely had time to smile.
"Hey, Hermi—"
She kissed him.
It was unlike any kiss she had given him before. There was no hesitation, no tentative pause, no attempt to hide how much she had missed him. She kissed him as though she were trying to make up for every lost moment, every missed conversation, and every day they had spent apart.
There was a fiery abandon to it, an intensity that left no doubt about how deeply she had felt his absence. Her arms wrapped around him, and Ben instinctively held her close, returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm.
It was messy, frantic, and absolutely amazing.
And Ben?
Ben was mentally kicking himself.
Why the hell had he stayed away from his hot girlfriend for so many months? Why hadn't he returned the moment he had finished kicking Nero's arse?
The rational, intellectual part of his mind acknowledged that perhaps the separation had been necessary. Hermione had needed time to process her emotions after everything that had happened, and his extended absence had given her that opportunity.
The other part of him—the teenage boy with raging hormones—was loudly protesting that he could have enjoyed much more of this if he had returned earlier.
Eventually, they broke apart, not because either wanted to, but because they were nearly out of air.
Hermione remained in his arms, breathing hard as she looked up at him.
"...Welcome back," she whispered breathlessly.
Ben stared at her for a moment, dazed, before a delighted smile spread across his face.
"Wow! I could really get used to this kind of homecoming."