Escape

Starfleet’s Commander Pelia has a surprising history that ties her to 20th-century Earth. Known for her longevity and psychic abilities as a member of the Lanthanite race, Pelia once lived under the alias Simka Dahblitz-Gravas, the wife of Latka Gravas, a taxi driver in New York City during the late 20th century.

Lanthanites and El-Aurians resemble humans but possess extraordinarily long lifespans and psychic capabilities. Pelia, with her mischievous nature, Eastern European-like accent, and multilingual prowess—including fluency in Klingon—fits this description perfectly.

Pelia’s dual identity as Simka Dahblitz-Gravas sheds light on her unique life journey. She lived incognito among humans in New York City in the 1980s, where she embraced the life of an immigrant housewife. It was before humans made First Contact with extraterrestrial life, in this case, the Vulcans, allowing Lanthanites like Pelia to blend in seamlessly.

The connection between Pelia and Simka grows clearer when considering the longevity of the Lanthanites. Pelia stated that she can live “almost forever,” echoing the El-Aurian Guinan’s claim that El-Aurians only age “if they want to.” The El-Aurians are known as the “listeners” of the galaxy, while the Lanthanites are the “watchers,” both roles involving close observation and interaction with other species.

Pelia’s decision to live as Simka highlights the lengths to which Lanthanites went to hide their true identities on Earth. Pelia’s eventual revelation as a Lanthanite marked her as one of the first of her kind to acknowledge her true heritage.

Reflecting on her time in New York, it’s evident that Pelia’s life was more than just a cover; it was a genuine part of her long and varied existence. She and Latka, both Lanthanites, maintained their secret to protect their identities and assimilate into human society.

The revelation that Starfleet’s Commander Pelia once lived as Simka Dahblitz-Gravas, wife to the late 20th-century New York City taxi driver Latka Gravas, has intrigued many. While Pelia’s longevity and hidden identity have come to light, the fate of her husband, Latka, remains a compelling aspect of her story.

Latka Gravas, remembered by many as the quirky and lovable mechanic on the New York City taxi scene, was also a Lanthanite. As a member of this long-lived and secretive race, Latka shared Pelia’s extraordinary lifespan and abilities. Together, they navigated the complexities of living incognito among humans when Earth had not yet made First Contact with the Vulcans.

However, unlike Pelia, Latka did not transition into a future Starfleet career. Over time, as Earth advanced towards its first interactions with alien species, many Lanthanites chose different paths. While some, like Pelia, eventually revealed their true identities and integrated into broader interstellar society, others opted for quieter, more obscure lives.

Latka’s fate is a story with a larger narrative of the Lanthanites on Earth. As humans began to discover the existence of these hidden alien races, some Lanthanites, including Latka, decided to maintain their low profiles.

It’s believed that Latka chose to continue living quietly, away from the burgeoning spotlight on alien beings. Whether he lived out his years in peaceful anonymity or moved on to other ventures remains part of the mystery surrounding the Lanthanites’ history.

Pelia’s emergence as a Starfleet officer highlights her willingness to embrace her heritage and contribute to the future of interstellar relations. Latka’s story, while less public, shows the varied responses of Lanthanites to the changing dynamics on Earth. His decision to stay hidden or retire from the public eye reflects the personal choices made by many of his kind during this transitional period.

How Commander Pelia became embroiled in a plot to steal the U.S.S. Enterprise is unclear. Captured and held as a prisoner awaiting court-martial, Pelia managed to escape using her psychic abilities, setting off a dramatic chain of events that culminated in her time-traveling to Earth in 2027.

Pelia overwhelmed her two guards mentally, escaping her cell with ease.

“I never thought I’d have to use my abilities against fellow officers,” Pelia remarked, reflecting on her bold escape. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Brady, now isolated and under state surveillance, was removed from the facility he entered while falling through a time loop from the 1870s by the government.

“Where are you taking me?” Brady demanded as they dragged him away.

“To a place where we can find out who and what you really are.”

Over the following weeks, they subjected Brady to a series of brutal interrogations and invasive medical procedures.

“Hold still,” a technician barked at Brady while strapped to a gurney, with needles and scanners probing his body.

“We need to understand why we can’t find a genetic match for you.”

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Brady insisted, his voice strained with pain.

Authorities, however, remained unconvinced.

“Nothing about you adds up,” one of them muttered. “No family records, no genetic matches. You might not even be human.”

When the state could not determine his origins, they relocated him to some land 15 minutes from the nearest neighborhood. The former cryptid-killer was closely monitored by wiring embedded in the sidewalk surrounding his shack, ensuring he remained within the designated perimeter.

Despite the oppressive surveillance, Brady maintained a low profile. He confined his activities to some woods behind his house, where he hunted and trapped small game to supplement the meager supplies of food and coffee provided by the state.

Brady found solace in simple pleasures, such as sipping coffee on his front step when the weather allowed. Otherwise, he kept to himself, avoiding unnecessary trouble with the state.

Unbeknownst to the authorities, Brady was meticulously planning his escape. He was secretly stockpiling supplies in a small bunker he created in the wooded area, waiting for the right moment to disappear.

The moment came unexpectedly with the appearance of Commander Pelia. When Pelia materialized near Brady’s home, she was desperate for help.

Making her way to Engineering, Pelia ingeniously utilized a transporter as a makeshift time machine. Arriving near a solitary house occupied by Brady, Pelia found an unlikely ally.

Without hesitation, she swiftly removed her composite Starfleet uniform insignia and dropped it onto the hard-packed ground. With a determined stomp, she shattered the emblem into three pieces, the sound echoing in the quiet surroundings.

Seated on his step, Brady watched in stunned silence as Pelia’s defiant act unfolded. Her sudden appearance had caught him off guard, his mouth half open in surprise at the unexpected turn of events.

The insignia lay broken at Pelia’s feet. As she turned to face Brady, there was a fire in her eyes—a determination to break free from the constraints of her past and forge a new path forward.

Brady’s surprise slowly gave way to curiosity and admiration for the stranger before him. In Pelia’s bold defiance, he saw echoes of his desire to break free and reclaim his independence.

Brady, a dissident living under the radar of a repressive State regime, was taken aback when he saw her materialize out of thin air.

“Who are you?”

“No time to explain. I need your help. Starfleet officers are right behind me.”

“Who?”

Sensing her urgency, Brady gave Pelia his hat and coat to disguise herself. Just as two Starfleet officers arrived at their location, Brady misled them, directing them away from Pelia’s true path.

“She went that way, towards the main road,” Brady said, pointing in the opposite direction of his cabin.

With Brady’s assistance, Pelia slipped through the back of his cabin, and the pair vanished into a nearby tree line.

“Thank you,” Pelia whispered as they ran. “Why are you helping me?”

Brady glanced at her, determination in his eyes. “I’ve been preparing a hideout to escape the state’s watchful eye. Looks like we both need to stay hidden.”

The pair ran to a line of trees a quarter mile behind the place Brady had called home for nearly two years.

“What’s the plan now?” Brady asked as they reached his hidden shelter.

“First, we stay out of sight. Then, I figure out how to fix this mess.”