Ode to Spot…..or Maybe Not

By celestia | Published July 12, 2004

Ode to Spot…..or Maybe Not
By Celestia

Paramount owns it all……we only dream that they’re really ours.  🙁

Summary: a very strange tale (tail?:) told from the
point of view of Data’s cat, Spot!

Dedicated to cats and cat-lovers everywhere.
Also dedicated to my old cats, Socks (who, in this
story is a boy, but was really a girl), and Bandit.
Author’s note: the stuff that talks about “that’s what cats do”,
is only my idea, and not scientific fact. Truthfully, we’ll
never know. But I hoped to make a good guess.
I’ve always believed that cats must have some form
of advanced communication, and telepathy was just
a guess, one that I’ve had since I was a very small child.
The premonitions were just something I made up.  🙂

ON TO THE STORY!!!
Ode to Spot……..or Maybe Not!
By Celestia

I was curled up in a little ball, almost asleep, when I was
awakened by the familiar sound of clicks and beeps. I ran over to
where my android sat working. I jumped up on the computer console,
my favourite place to be.
“Down Spot,” my android said as he lifted me up and deposited
me on the floor. I sat there staring at him, then I meowed. He’s *my* pet,
how can he tell me what to do?
I guess I should tell you who I am. I am Spot, a cat. I have a pet
Soong-type android named Data. I have survived through more than your
average cat. I am starting to get scared that I’m coming to the end of my
nine lives.
One of the things that happens the most is this ship, the Enterprise,
gets blown up. But the ship is still fine. I think it has something to do with
those temporal anomalies my pet is always talking about. I don’t know
why he wastes his time with such things. They have no importance. As far
as I know, they have nothing to do with food.
Speaking of food, it’s supposed to be supper time. I meowed to get
my android’s attention. It works. He stopped working, turned and looked at me,
then got up to get my food. My android is trained well.
As I began to eat my food, the ship began to shake.
I hoped that we didn’t blow up again, I hate it when that happens.
I noticed that Data had stopped working again and that he had gotten
up to leave. I would’ve stopped him, be he had work to do. As he went out the
door, I snuck out behind him, being careful not to let my tail get caught as the
doors hissed shut. I knew from experience that this was not a good thing.
As I entered the corridor, I saw my friend, Socks. I walked
faster to catch up with him. We continued to walk down the corridor
together, thinking to each other, because that’s what cats do.
*So where did your android go? He never let’s you out of
your quarters.*
*He left when the shaking started, same as always. Where’s
your human?*
*She’s been gone all day, same as always. I never see her
anymore.*
Just as he finished his thought, we heard footsteps behind us,
and suddenly I was being lifted up into the air. I whipped my head around
to see who it was, and scratched his face.
It was my android’s friend, the man with the metal over his eyes.
I meowed and screamed at him, but he didn’t let go, he just moved his head,
and I kept missing when I went to scratch his face. He said something,
but I don’t usually understand humans, and I wasn’t about to start.
He took me back to my quarters and threw me in. Great.
Confined to my quarters for another lonely day.
I jumped up onto the computer console for a nap. The shaking
stopped a while ago, but my android hadn’t returned.
I finally fell asleep and started to dream. Cats dream often,
and I have found that things in my dreams sometimes happen, so
that’s why this one scared me.
I was walking on a pink cloud. There were no people or cats
or anything else there, just pink clouds and blue sky. I kept on walking,
wondering what I would see.
There was no noise. Not a single one. That was weird, to not
hear anything. Cats have very good hearing, and it is an awful feeling
to not hear anything.
And then a strange-looking man in a red Starfleet uniform appeared.
He was not one of the officers I had seen, but, since I don’t get out much, I
have not seen many Starfleet officers.
He snapped his fingers. That’s all it took. Suddenly, in a flash of white
light, the clouds disappeared. So did the sky, so did the light, and so
did everything. I was alone, in the dark, with nothing but black
surrounding me. It was weird, and somehow, in the back of my head, I knew
that there was no one who could come and get me. It was a horrible feeling,
even when it was only a dream.
I woke up with a start, and I looked around the room to see what had
saved me from my disturbing dream.
There was nothing there. I uncurled and stretched. There was
probably nothing to worry about. After all, it was only a dream, and not
*all* dreams had to come true.
Then I heard the doors swish open. Data came in and set something
on his console. I didn’t wait to see what it was. I bolted out of the door
and into the corridor.
When I got out there, Socks was waiting for me. We ran down the
corridor so that my android wouldn’t catch us.
Suddenly I stopped. I stopped so suddenly that Socks ran into me.
*What was that for?!* he asked angrily.
*Can’t you smell that?*
*Smell what?*
I was getting impatient. I wanted to go investigate.
*Sniff, Socks, sniff!*
So he did.
*Smells like…food. A mouse, maybe?*
*A mouse? On the Enterprise? It certainly smells like it…*
Now Socks was getting interested too.
*Let’s go!*
We ran quickly, letting our noses lead the way. We ended up at the
doors to Ten Forward. There were about 20 other cats there too. They had
probably smelt what we had smelt.
I don’t know why the others were just standing there. Socks and I
just waltzed on in. After we went in, the others just kind of followed.
When we got in, there was no one there. We walked all over the room,
twenty of us, all in a line, and we couldn’t find what was causing the smell.
It was like it wasn’t there, but we knew that it *was*. How peculiar, I
thought.
Then, the smell became stronger. It smelt just like a delectable
mouse. Mmmmm…I hadn’t had mouse in such a long time…none of us had,
really. Not real mouse, anyway. And replicated mouse just isn’t the same.
The smell was coming from behind the counter. I leaped on a barstool,
then onto the tall counter. I looked down, hoping to see a mouse, or maybe
more than one, because the smell was so strong, but that’s not what I saw.
I saw…something really weird. It had the body of a mouse, but the
face of the man from my dream. I quickly jumped back to the floor, startled.
In a white flash of light, the mouse-man turned into a man, looking
exactly like he did in my dream. Then, everyone but me just disappeared.
There had been no people in Ten Forward, but now there were no cats, either,
except me.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Spot, I’m very disappointed in you.”
I could *understand* him! I had never understood humans before, and I could
only understand a few words that Data said. Mainly when he said it was dinner
time.But I had a feeling that this man was not human.
“You’re right,” he said. He could understand *me*?! “I’m not human.
I am Q. I came here to test you. I’ve always felt that cats *must* be more
intelligent than humans, and here you go, proving me wrong! You purely let
your stomachs lead the way, not once thinking of the dangers that could have
met you here! I’m disappointed with you, Spot. I’m very disappointed.” He
raised his hand, about to snap his fingers, and I was very afraid that he
was about to do to me what he did in my dream, snap his fingers and throw me
into oblivion.
Just then, I heard the doors to Ten Forward swish open. I turned my
head to see who (or what) was there.
It was Data! I had never been so happy to see my pet in my whole
entire life (which consisted of  7 human years, or 49 cat ones).
He said something, something that sounded like, “Come here Spot.” I
ran to him. Anything to get away from that…Q.
Q lowered his hand, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “Fine, you keep
your dumb animal. I think I’ll go visit my friends the Calamarain. *They*
haven’t seen me for a month or so. Maybe they miss me.” He snapped his
fingers and was gone.
Data carried me back to our quarters and berated me for leaving,
but then gave me a treat. Pets are weird. I don’t think I shall ever
understand them. But for now, I am content just to eat my treat, then curl
up with one of my cat toys and go to sleep. I may not have passed Q’s test,
but I think that, either way, Q would’ve taken me away, and Data may have
missed me. After all, is it not an owner’s responsibility to look after
her pet? I don’t know if my pet could’ve survived without me, even if my
pet *is* an android.

***************************************FIN**************************

send your tales (please, no disembered tails!)of how much you loved this to celestia@innocent.com

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Star Trek Helix: Axis Power, Part 3

By toddkelley | Published July 12, 2004

STAR TREK HELIX: EPISODE 9 “AXIS POWER” part 3

TEASER: IN THE COMPANY OF RIGHTEOUS WICKEDNESS

A few moments ago, Kyle K’Nar remembered thinking: ‘I’m about to die. No
escape for my symbiote- no new host to look forward to. It’s my last dance.’

A few moment ago, Kyle K’Nar remembered watching his best friend die for the
second time, while not being able to save her. And now, he stared at the
people who made up the Resistance’s uneasy alliance- his reality’s last
hope.

The crew of the U.S.S. Atlantis, and mother of all evils- The Borg Queen.
They were united with one goal in mind- the stop AXIS from destorying
reality.

And now they extended their hand to him.

“Let me get this straight.” Kyle said straightening himself. “You need my
help to destroy this universe?”

The Borg Queen responded. “WE SUSPECTED THAT THE AXIS EXPERIMENT FAILED DUE
TO AN UNKNOWN CATALYST WHICH SLIGHTLY ALTERED THE TEMPORAL SHOCKWAVE. UPON
FURTHER ANALYSIS, WE CONCLUDED THAT YOU WERE THE ONLY ANOMALLY CLOSE ENOUGH
TO CAUSE SUCH DAMAGE.”

Kyle wiped his face and tried to think. “Back on board the artifact, when
Alex was changed, he said something about initiating the experiment. And
later, when I was onboard the Helix, there was a strange feeling of nausea.
When the artifact produced the shock wave, I felt this incredible pain like
someone was trying to rip my insides apart.”

“INTERESTING” The Queen snatching the medical tricorder from the Doctor. “IT
SEEMS YOU WERE EXPOSED TO A SERIES OF MODIFIED CHRONOTONS ABOARD THE
ARTIFACT. WHEN THE SHOCK WAVE HIT YOU, IT CAUSE A GLITCH IN THE EQUATION.”

“Then he’s our anchor to the original reality?” Lt. David Gerard asked.

“CORRECT.”

“Will someone please explains this for the stupid people in the room?” Kyle
said, making his way to the medical table again. “Because it all sounds like
one of those cheesy holo-novels my last host use to play with.”

Lt. Casey found a seat beside him. “With the Queen’s help, we now have the
data and the technology to restore our reality.”

“I SOUGHT OUT AN ENLISTED THE HELP OF ERIC BECKETT.”

“Enlisted?” Eric interrupted. “That an interesting way to put it.”

The Queen smiled at him. “I REALIZED OUR GOALS HAD BECOME… SIMILAR, SO I
SPARED HIS LIFE. I ALTERED HIS MOLECULAR STRUCTURE SO THAT HE WOULD BE
UNDETECTABLE TO AXIS, AND PLACED HIM WITHIN THE COLLECTIVE. ONCE THE
RESISTANCE ATTACK BEGAN, AXIS BECAME PREOCCUPIED.”

“All I needed to do was wait until I got access to the main console and
download the information needed to restore reality. Thanks to Mia and Kyle,
I was able to retrieve the information sooner than thought.”

Kyle was confused. “But why am I so important to the equation?”

Shelly responded. “The problem is that once we set the timeline right, none
of us would remember what happened? which would create a ‘causality loop’
and doom us to repeat the entire incident all over again. But since we have
you, we can analyze the temporal variance in your body to make us also
resistant to the temporal change.”

“So, what do we do now?” Kyle asked propping himself on the medical table.

“Now, we wait for the commodore to pull a rabbit out of his hat…”

————————————————————————

ACT 1: UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE

PERSONAL LOG: COMMODORE DIMITRI ANDREYEVICH

It’s been roughly an hour since the destruction of the Borg array.
Due to the heroic actions of my crew and the Borg Queen, there may
have a good chance and restoring the timeline. I can’t lie, I
didn’t think we were gonna make it out of this one. After six
months of constant missions, the crew and myself were taxed to our
limits. The fact that we’re still able to keep our wits after all
this time, proves that I have the best crew in Starfleet.

The Borg Queen has been very cooperative up to this point. How
long will it be before she turns on us? I don’t know. What I do
know is that we need her and the drones to pull this off. As far
as I’m concerned, the enemy of my enemy is my best friend in the
world…

END TRANSMITTION

Kollos and the Borg Queen entered the conference room to find Dimitri
staring out the window. After catching their reflection in the glass, he
spoke without turning around. “Since we’ve been getting crappy news for the
past few days, I’m assuming you guys are coming baring happy news.”

“WE COME WITH PROGRESS REPORTS” the Queen responded.

Dimitri turned with a smile. “Close enough.” He sat down and watched Kollos
head for the viewscreen.

He brought up a schematic of Engineering. “As of this moment, we’re running
at 80% efficiency. The shockwave from the array took our internal sensors
offline, but they should be functional in a couple hours. With Queeny’s
help, we’ve upgraded all the engineering workstations with Borg technology.
This has increased our computational capacity by 1200%. Unfortunately, the
computers weren’t designed to run that fast, so they’ll all burn out once we
make the jump. We’ve compiled the data from Eric and Kyle and have
extrapulated the neccesary information to restore the universe.”

“THE PROBLEM WILL BE GENERATING ENOUGH ENERGY TO RECREATE THE TEMPORAL
EXPLOSION.” The Queen added.

Dimtri thought for a second. “You can leave that to me.”

“FINE.” The Queen took over the viewscreen. “WE’VE BEEN MONITORING BORG
ACTIVITY USING LONG RANGE SCANNERS. IT SEEMS THAT THE DESTRUCTION OF THE
ARRAY HAS CREATED TURMOIL IN THE COLLECTIVE. AT THIS MOMENT IN TIME, THERE
ARE NO PURSUERS.” She shut the screen down. “I EXPECTED WE SHOULD HAVE
RECEIVED SOME TYPE OF RESISTENCE.”

“You think AXIS is up to something?”

“CORRECT.”

“Then keep running sensor sweeps. How long until we’re able to make the
timejump?”

Kollos consulted his tricorder. “Just under two hours, Sir. That is, if
we’re able to get the power we need.”

Dimitri stood. “Don’t worry, you’ll get more than enough.” He slowly stood
up to face the others. “Where’s Kyle?”

“BEING TREATED IN THE MEDICAL CENTER WITH ERIC.”

“Good. Queen, I need you with me on the bridge to delegate repairs to your
drones. Kollos, you and David report back to Engineering and oversee the
plan. And lets hope the next couple hours run this smooth…”

————————————————————————

Moments before, Kyle was dreaming. He was aboard the Helix training Mia in
the ancient form of Klingon martial arts. There wasn’t anything particularly
interesting about the dream. He just never realized how much he enjoyed his
time with Mia. They’re constant bickering and grappling were the only times
he felt totally at ease. He hoped to see her again someday.

When he awoke, he found himself staring up at the ceiling lights. This was
strange because he never slept on his back. As he tried to sit up he felt
the shart pain of the bruised ribs hit him like a slap of bricks. He glanced
to his left, at the other bed where Eric layed before he fell asleep, and
found that it was empty.

“Doc.” Kyle called out. “I can use some of that pain numbing stuff you gave
me before.”

There was no answer.

————————————————————————

The Borg Queen was sitting beside the Commodore on the bridge, when she
first got the sensation. She could here the infinite voices of her drones
swimming in her head. But one voice managed to stand out from the rest. It
was a chilling voice, which sent an intriguing sensation through her. It was
a feeling, which she hadn’t felt in centuries… Fear….

She stood from her seat with a look of shock on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Dimitri asked.

She accessed the available data a thousand times within a few seconds to
ensure her conclusion was terrifyingly correct.

“ALL IS LOST.” She replied, slowly turning toward Dimitri. “HE IS AMONG US…”

————————————————————————

“Come on, doc. I’m in pain here! Your bedside manner is really….” As Kyle
glanced to his right, he could make out Dr. Zhivago’s lifeless body laying
face up on the other side of the room. His skin was almost radiating a pale
grayness and large vein-like streaks were pulsating along his face.

Kyle had seen this effect once before. It was on the Borg artifact when Alex
was first being….

“..assimilated!”

Kyle turned and looked up to see a familiar face staring down at him. But
the attacker turned out not to be one of the Borg drones.

“Uh oh…”

“HELLO KYLE.” AXIS said with an evil grin on his face, two assimilation
tubes slowly rising from his knuckled wrist. “RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.”

————————————————————————

ACT 2: INFESTATION

Kyle managed to role off of the medical table, just as the creature’s fist
slammed through it. He quickly pulled himself up and ran for the door.

“THERE IS NO ESCAPE!” Axis yelled at his prey.

Kyle tried to activate the emergency door locks, but it became clear that
his attacker was one step ahead of him. He turned to face his former friend,
who now slowly approached him.

“DID YOU THINK I WOULD ALLOW YOU TO ESCAPE AGAIN?” his was expressionless,
but you could hear the anger in his tone. “BECAUSE OF YOU, MIA IS GONE.
SHE’LL NEVER BE A PART OF THE COLLECTIVE!”

AXIS lunged for Kyle, but the Trill was already in motion. As they passed
each other, Kyle sent a round-house kick to the Borg’s back. AXIS stumbled
slightly, but not as much a Kyle hoped.

He knew he couldn’t dodge his captor for long in the medical bay’s small
compartment. He had to find something to defend himself with.

“YOU ARE DELAYING THE INEVIDABLE, KYLE.” The monster called out.

The sharp pain in his ribs intensified, but Kyle still managed to steadied
himself. “Alex, if you’re still in there somewhere, you have to fight him!”

Axis smiled. “THE BIOLOGICAL ENTITY KNOWN AS ALEX GARRETT HAS BEEN PURGED
FROM THIS PROGRAM. THERE IS ONLY AXIS.”

Kyle grabbed a short surgical knife for a nearby medical tray. “Well then, I
guess it’s time to finish what we started on the artifact. What do you say
AXIS? You ready for round three?”

The creature smiled as it slowly walked toward Kyle. The Trill warrior kept
in eye contact with his aggressor. As he moved to keep the medical table
between them, he unknowingly stumbled over Eric Beckett’s unconscious body.
He fell backwards and hit is head on the soft floor, the surgical knife
slipping from his grip. By the time he made to his feet again, AXIS had
disappeared from his site.

Kyle panicked. He tried to reach for the knife again, but he was met by a
swift kick to his fractured ribs, which lifted him off of his feet and sent
him spinning across the room. When he finally gathered his sense, he found
himself cornered in the far side of the room with Axis standing over him.

“THERE WILL BE NO MORE RESISTENCE, KYLE.”

He tasted the blood running from his nose. “You won’t win! The others won’t
let it happen!”

“THE OTHERS AREN’T SMART ENOUGH TO REALIZE I’VE ORCHESTRATED EVERTHING THAT
HAS HAPPENED!” he reached down and grabbed Kyle by the throat and lifted him
off his feet. “THE AXIS IS ABSOLUTE!” once again, he activated the
assimilation tubes in his wrist. “NO ONE WILL BE SPARED!”

The Borg’s free arm wrenched for Kyle’s throat when he felt the painful
impact of a metal cylinder collide with the side of his head. The blow was
so powerful, it made him release Kyle from his grip and stumble into the
wall.

“If I had a strip of latnum for evertime I heard you spout that ‘AXIS IS
GOD’ crap, I’d probably own my own moon!” a wobbly, Borg-a-fide Eric Beckett
said as he readied the large cylinder in his hand for another swing. “I’m
sick of all the pain, and death you and your kind have inflicted!” he voice
cracked as his vocal cords showed signs of being assimilated.

“This is for my family!!!” the next swing caught AXIS again in the head
again.

“This is for my friends!!!!” the next blow caught him in the turso.

“This is for resistence!!!!” the next blow caught him in the wrist which was
block his head. AXIS fell on his back and raise his hands in defiance,

“And this is for everything else, you cybernetic bastard!!!” Eric raised the
cylinder over his head and swung it down toward AXIS with as much strength
as he could gather. But as it came within inches of his head, he activated
some type of emergency transporter technology. The cylinder pasted through
his transparent image and slammed hard into the floor.

In a matter of seconds, AXIS was gone.

“So there…” Eric said as his body gave out on him and he started to fall
backwards. Fortunately, Kyle was there to catch him.

“Easy there, partner.” Kyle said helping Eric to the bed. “That’s the second
time you saved my from being assimilated. When this is over, the beers are
on me.”

Eric started to laugh, but a wrenching wave of pain washed over him. He
clutched his chest.

“Man, you don’t look so good.” Kyle said.

“The nanoprobes in my body are doing their work.” The Slayer replied, his
voice giving way to a hint of a Borg accent. “Lucky for me, the changes
‘Queeny’ made to my body are slowing down the process. I may only an hour or
so before I’m fully assimilated.” He slowly pulled himself off of the bed
and stood tall in front of Kyle.

“Then that’s all we’ll need.” Kyle grabbed his arm and helped him toward the
door.

When they reached the control panel, Eric told Kyle to stand back and then
drove his Borg fist into the control panel. “I should be able to unlock the
door.” In seconds, the door slid open just in time for Eric the prop himself
on the door frame. He looked at Kyle and smiled. “He’s trapped.”

“Who’s what?” Kyle asked putting his friends arm round his neck and helping
him down the corridor.

“Axis. He’s trapped.” The communications array is destroyed, so he can’t
transfer is essence between drones anymore. If we can take him down here and
now, we can kill him.”

Kyle tapped his combadge. “Kyle of the Commodore..”

“Dimitri here.” A voice replied.

“We have a problem. It’s AXIS… He’s loose on the ship…”

————————————————————————

In Engineering, Kollos’ hand ran over the timewarp console with a
lightning-fast, fluid motion.

“Alright, I’ve got the mathematic data online. I’ve started the countdown.
We’re T-Minus twenty two minutes until the timejump.” He said as he made his
way for Lieutenant David Gerard. “How’s the Borg power-distribution nodes
coming?”

David brought the schematics onscreen. “I ran into some trouble with the
power conversion process on the warp core’s end. So I installed several
powercells instead. But we’re still not gonna have enough power to pull this
off.”

“The Commodore said it was taken care of.”

“What do you think he meant by….”

David’s question was interrupted by a loud crash, which came from one of the
upper decks. They both paused.

“I thought we were the only ones in here?” David whispered.

“We’re suppose to be.”

————————————————————————

Dimtri and The Borg Queen found Lt. Shelly Casey and Lt. Krag at the
rendezvous point.

“What’s our status?” He asked them.

Shelly stepped forward. “The Internal Sensors are fried. But, from what we
here from the securty detail around the ship, AXIS has drones placed
throughout the ship, blocking any path to Engineering. The Queens drones
have been engaging them, but it doesn’t look good.”

“HE’S TRYING TO DESTORY THE TIMEWARP SEQUENCE?” The Queen asked unusually
nervous.

“Yep.”

“What about the transporters?” Krag asked.

“Their offline.” Shelly answered. “AXIS knows what he’s doing.”

Dimitri thought for a second. “Somebody’s gotta reach Engineering and give
the others some help. We’ll split up. Shelly and the Queen will take the
upper decks. Try and use the Jefferies tubes if possible. Krag and I will
try the lower decks with the same method. Kyle and Eric are already in
route. According the Kollos, we got less than twenty minutes to hold AXIS
off!”

————————————————————————

Kollos quickly went to the weapons locker, grabbed a phaser and tossed one
to David.

David checked the phaser and frowned. “Have these been retuned?.”

“I don’t know.” Kollos answered as his eyes widened. “Let’s find out!”

He pulled David aside and fired his phaser at a Borg, which had appeared
from the shadows. The beam caught the drone in the chest, sending it
convulsing to the floor.

Kollos grinned. “I’m gonna say ‘yes’.”

They both positioned themselves back to back.

“Make your shots count.” David whispered. “We got four shots at the most
before they adapt…”

————————————————————————

“Where are we?” Dimitri whispered to Krag as they crawled through a
Jefferies tube.

The Nausican checked his tricorder. “Near deck 8. If we take the ladder just
ahead to deck 10, we should our checkpoint before preceding to engineering.”

“Good.” Dimtri tapped his combadge. “Shelly, what’s you’re status.?”

“Not so good, sir.” She answered back. “We got cornered on deck twelve!
We’ve being pushed away from engineering. It’s gonna be up to you guys.

“Acknowledged.” He checked his time-piece he faceted around his neck. “Your
orders are to stay alive for next six minutes! Do what you have to. Just
don’t get caught.”

“Acknowledged. Shelly out.”

He turned to Krag. “It’s just you and me, kid.”

Krag snarled. “We will crush them!”

Dimitri grinned. “It sounds like a plan to me. Let’s move.”

————————————————————————

Kollos and David slowly made their way toward the command console.

“Computer” David called out. “Initiate Borg-Contingency, authorization
Gerard-beta-9”

‘SYSTEM ACTIVATED’ the computer responded.

“How long do you think I’ll hold them out?” Kollos asked.

David sighed. “Hopefully, long enough.”

Just then, the seal to a Jefferies tube, popped off behind them. They turned
to find, Kyle and Eric pulling themselves into the room.

Kyle was the first one to his feet. “Here’s the cavalry.”

David and Kollos stared at Eric who was in bad shape.

The Slayer smiled. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t control me yet. But I hope you
guys have a plan, because we’re coming with nothing…”

‘HOPE IS IRRELEVENT.’ a voice suddenly called out from the shadows.

David flinched and fired in that direction. His shot was accurate, but no
effective. From the darkened corner, Axis slowly walked into the light.

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER.” It smiled. “THE AXIS POWER IS
ABSOLUTE…”

————————————————————————

Dimitri followed Krag from the Jefferies tube just as his timepiece started
to beep.

“Four minutes to go. How far are we from Engineering?” Dimitri asked his
Chief of Security.

“Not far. If we…”

Before Krag could answer, he saw an alien transporter beam wash over the
Commodore. He tried to grab him, but the transport was instantaneous.

“Axis…”

————————————————————————

Dimitri rematerialize inside of engineering. As he regained his senses, he
noticed three bodies lying unconscious in the corner. He quietly made his
way over to them and turned them over.

It looked as if Kollos, David and Kyle were in the process of being
assimilated. He checked his time on a nearby computer screen. “Hold on guys.
You need to hold on a little bit longer

“THEY PUT UP A GOOD FIGHT, COMMODORE.” Axis called out. ” ESPECIALLY THE
TRILL AND THE BORG SLAYER. YOU WOULD’VE BEEN PROUD.”

Dimitri scanned the area until he found the Borg-God at the main engineering
station.

“THE TRILL AND THE SLAYER WERE FORMABLE. THEY ARRIVED JUST AS I ASSIMILATED
YOUR TWO OFFICERS. ERIC MANAGED TO ESCAPE. NO MATTER. HIS DEATH IS
INEVITABLE.”

He was attempting to access the timewarp console, but a force field had been
erected.

“I CAN’T SEEM TO PENETRATE THIS SHIELDING TECHNOLOGY.” The monster turned
and smiled and Dimitri. “THE QUEEN’S HANDY WORK, NO DOUBT. NO MATTER. YOU
WILL ASSIST ME IN GAINING CONTROL OF THE PRIMARY FUNCTIONS.”

As Axis slowly walked toward Dimitri, the Commodore did his best to keep his
distance. “And why would I do that?”

“BECAUSE THE ALTERNATIVE WOULD BE PAINFUL FOR YOU AND YOUR CREW.”

Dimitri grabbed one of the phasers littering the floor. He tried to retune
it. “You’re gonna kill us anyway.”

“DEATH WOULD BE MERCIFUL. I CAN MAKE IT QUICK, OR DRAG IT OUT FOR AN
ETERNITY. THE AXIS POWER IS ABSOLUTE.”

“Yadda, yadda, yadda…” Dimitri fired the phaser at Axis. The beam as met by
a greenish force field which surrounded him.

He smiled. “I HAVE ADAPTED.”

Someone stirred in the shadows behind AXIS. When Eric Beckett’s haggard face
appeared from dark corner, Dimitri knew he had to work the situation to his
advantage.

“O.K., Axis. What do I get in return for releasing my command codes? I’m
thinking about a corner of the galaxy where me and my crew can live in
peace. What do you think?”

“UNEXCEPTABLE.” Axis stopped walking. “YOU WILL BE ASSIMILATED. YOU WILL
BECOME PART OF THE COLLECTIVE.”

Dimitri remained silent for the next couple of seconds. Axis stared at him
puzzled.

“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?”

The Commodore looked ambiguous. “Huh? Oh, nothing. I just remembered, this
is the part of the plot where us ‘good guys’ pull a rabbit out of our hat
and save the day.”

>From the shadows, Eric tossed one of his ‘Chrono-phase Grenades’ at Axis.

“YES. I GUESS IT IS. BUT THIS TIME IT IS DIFFERENT….”

Without looking behind himself, Axis reached out and caught the small orb as
soon as it was in range. He squeezed it until it shattered underneath the
pressure.

“…THE STORY IS MINE TO CREATE.”

Eric tried to rush him from the shadows. But as he came close, AXIS caught
him by the neck and picked him up off of his feet. Dimitri watched in horror
as his vice grib crushed the Borg Slayer’s neck. His lifeless body toppled
to the floor.

Axis grinned. “YOU’RE LAST HOPE HAS BEEN CRUSHED, COMMODORE.” He started to
walk toward him, but Dimitri held his ground. “THE AXIS POWER IS ABSOLUTE.
YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT NOW, DON’T YOU?”

Dimitri nodded. “You’re too strong for us to fight. And we knew that from
the start.”

“YET YOU STILL FOUGHT ME WITH YOUR LIVES?”

Dimtri started strole around. “Oh, we never expected to defeat you and your
drones in combat. We just needed to keep you occupied.”

At that moment, the computer sprang to life with a series of automated
beeps.

Axis turned to the computer. “WHAT WAS THAT?”

Dimitri smiled. “I’m not sure, but I’m thinking that would be that rabbit
coming out the hat.”

Axis turned back to him. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“The timewarp system we rigged to restore the timeline needed a big burst of
energy to initiate a temporal shock-wave. There wasn’t anything on-hand to
generate enough power…” He turned toward the computer and pointed to the
automated countdown, which had been inconspicuously on the screen all the
time. “…except for a warp core breech.”

‘WARNING.’ The computer sounded. ‘AUTOMATED SELF DESTRUCT IN THIRTEEN
SECONDS….’

Anger grew in Axis. “THIS IS ILLOGICAL! YOU WIL BE DESTROYED!”

“It’s doesn’t matter!” Dimitri drew face to face with him. “All this never
happened!”

‘TEN SECONDS’

Axis pushed the Commodore to the floor and ran toward the computer station.
The force field stopped him in his tracks.

‘SEVEN SECONDS’

He pounded on the invisible barrier, but it wouldn’t give. Furiously, he
stomped over to Dimtri and picked him up off his feet until they were eye to
eye.

“YOU WILL COMPLY WITH MY ORDERS AND RELEASE THE COMMMAND CODES!!!” he
screetched.

‘FIVE SECONDS…’

Dimitri smiled in defiance. “No.”

‘FOUR’’

At that moment, the time jump engines executed the mathematical computations
to generate the temporal shock-wave. All it needed was aN energy surge to
execute it.

Axis grew irate as his eyes darted between the Commodore and the computer
screen. He had planned for all contingencies. He had studied all
possibilities and compensated for anything that could happen? all except for
the illogical irrationability of the human species.”

‘THREE’

He had lost. There was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable. ‘THE AXIS
POWER IS ABSOLUTE!!!”

‘TWO’

Axis screamed in defiance. “RESISTENCE IS FUTILE!!!”

‘ONE’

Dimitri’s smile transformed into a snarl. “Resistence is human!”

‘SELF DESTRUCT ENABLED…”

————————————————————————

ACT 3: SAME AS IT EVER WAS…

“Wait up, sir!” David Gerard called to Commodore Dimitri Andreyevich, who
was quickly strolling the corridors aboard the U.S.S. Atlantis.

“Get a move on, Lieutenant.” Dimtri answered. “I’ve got 45 minutes left of
holodeck time before I’m back on duty. And when we engage the holo-novel,
don’t call me ‘Sir’, anymore. My character is named Professor Van Helsing.”

David finally caught up with his commanding officer, almost out of breath.
“Van Helsing? As in Dracula?” he smiled when Dimitri nodded to him. “Sounds
like fun. Tell me, do I get to bite people?”

Just as Dimitri began to answer him, a sharp burst of nausea washed over
him. In a wave of painful chills, the queeziness caused him to stumble
backwards into the corridor wall. Light-headed, he glanced over at David,
who now was on his knees clutching his head. And in that few seconds, a
flood of painful images of a possible future washed through his mind.
Events, which spanned the next two weeks ahead came to him in one great
burst. The blast was so intense, it jerked him from his resting place on the
wall and onto the floor.

Gradually, the feeling faded away, leaving the two of them, as well as
everyone else in the corridor fatigued. Dimitri and David both rose to their
feet and then looked at each other.

David frowned, trying to read the look on the Commodore’s face. The memories
were vivid, yet scrambled? as if he had just experienced some sort of crazy
dream.

“Sir?” said trying to gain his composure. It had to be a dream.

Dimitri had only one response. “AXIS…” It wasn’t a dream…

Dimitri tapped his combadge. “The Commodore to the bridge!”

“Uh… Lt. Casey here, Sir.” …” Shelly answered back. “It seems… like the…
crew as hit with some type of…”

“Look alive, Lieutenant! It wasn’t dream you experienced. The time-jump from
the other reality was successful.” He grabbed David by the uniform and
pulling him along. “David and I are on our way to the bridge! Take us to
maximum warp! We’ve got less than thirty minutes before the Borg artifact
engages the temporal shockwave!”

The U.S.S. Atlantis went to Red Alert…

————————————————————————

Just outside of the Nuvellis system, a large spherical Borg ship streaks
away at high-warp. Close behind, an Emperial Destroyer from the Kadre Empire
followed in close pursute. Both ships firing a full battery of weapons at
each other.

Lagging behind, the damage Helix raced to join the battle. At that moment on
the bridge, Mia looked up at Kyle with a crazed look on her face. Tears
streamed down her cheeks. “I’m commander of the team now! And we have to
destroy AXIS now before he does anymore damage!!!” she stood up and put her
hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “It’s what Alex would’ve wanted. But he’s dead
now.”

Ian checked the sensors. “I’m getting readings from the sphere. The Kadre
destroyer has engaged the Borg.” A couple seconds passed. “The Kadre
destroyer, has been destroyed.”

Mia walked to Tash. “Put out an emergency message on all frequencies! Notify
everyone within distance that the Borg have started their invasion! Let
everyone know the sphere must be destroyed at all cost. And when that’s
done, initiate the Borg Protocol.”

Tash shook his head. “We don’t have the power to pull it off. Even if we….”

“I’m not asking for excuses! MAKE IT HAPPEN!”

Without another word, Tash nodded and left the bridge for engineering.

Mia found her way the command chair. “This is bad. This is very….”

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kyle stumble backwards. He
clutched his head he met the floor and started to roll around in pain.

Mia ran for him and tapped her combadge. “Mia to Jann! We have a medical
emergency on the bridge!”

Kyle tried to understand the mass of images being forced into his brain all
at once. But the sensation was overwhelming. All the painful memories
manifesting within him at once. The attacks from AXIS, the destruction of
the Borg array, the death of Mia- they all hit him in one single wave of
intensity.

“Kyle, what’s wrong?” Mia asked. “What’s happeing?”

Kyle forced himself to his knees, clinching his eyes shut. “Must destroy….
array….” His voice was shaky. “We just lost…. left nacelle…” he grabbed Mia
by the shouder. “Resistance is…” Suddenly his eyes opened wide to stare
directly at Mia.

It was as if she was staring into the eyes of a stranger. Mia saw that for a
split second, he had no idea where he was. And as the cloudiness started to
clear in his mind, Kyle began to smile. He gently touch her cheek and then
gave her a light slap.

“Glad to have you back, Captain.” He said with a smile.

“Captain?” she replied, also with a smile. “When did I get the promotion?”

Kyle didn’t pay attention to her comment. “Son-of-a-bitch… It worked!”

“What worked?” Mia asked.

Kyle’s expression changed from happy to concerned. “It doesn’t matter. All
you need to know is that the AXIS EXPERIMENT succeeded… or WILL succeed if
we don’t pull this off!” tapped his combadge. “Tash when will the Borg
Protocols be online?”

“Three minutes.” Tash called back.

Kyle turned to Mia. “Alright, I’ve got roughly ten minutes to tell you what
happen to me…. to us…” he sat Mia down. “But first, we have a plan.”

Mia looked at him puzzled. “We?”

————————————————————————

Five minutes ahead of the Borg sphere, a fleet of seven Starships raced on
an intercept course at maximum warp. The U.S.S. Maximillian, a
Sovereign-Class starship led the way as the other ships followed in a ‘V’
formation.

On board, Captain Joseph Hennig wandered from station to station on the
bridge checking with his officers on their readiness. They had been out of
dry-dock for only two months, but his crew was one of the best in the fleet.

“Captain?” the helmsman called out. “The Borg ship has changed its course
and now heading directly for us.”

“Go to red alert.” Joseph ordered. “Notify the rest of the fleet to take
their positions.”

On the view screen, the giant sphere appeared and the bridge crew held their
breath.”

“Don’t give in to fear.” Joseph reassured his crew. “We’ve beaten them back
twice before. This is no different. All we have to do is keep them occupied
until the cavalry arrives.”

Captain Hennig then saw the two dozen shimmering, projectiles which sprang
from the sphere. “Incoming fire, evasive maneuvers!”

Hennig held his breath…

————————————————————————

“Mia?” Tash called out aboard the Helix. “I’m getting readings. Starfleet
has just engaged the sphere.”

“Time to intercept?” she asked him.

“They’ve slowed to impulse, so we should arrive in roughly six minutes.”

Mia turned to her navigator. “Ian, let’s enable the Shield Pulsar like Kyle
said. Then tranmit the Borg’s shield harmonic frequency to the coordinates
Kyle specified.”

She then turned to Trill warrior. “I hope this works.”

Kyle shrugged. “It did before…”

————————————————————————

The U.S.S. Maximillian veered hard to the right as the Borg torpedoes raced
at the fleet. Two of the other ships weren’t so lucky. The torpedoes passed
through their shields and struck head on into their saucer sections. The
Crazyhorse and the Pittsburg sustained major damage.

“Two ships were hit!” the tactical officer of the Maximillian reported to
her captain. “Both are out of the the fight, Sir!”

Captain Hennig held on to his chair and his ship tilted steeply. “Tell the
fleet to spread out. Don’t give them easy targets! Attack pattern Sierra!
Remember, we just need to keep them occupied!”

While the other ships pushed outward drawing the sphere’s fire, the
Maximillian raced head on, unleashing a series of phaser shots. But the Borg
sphere was unaffected and replied with its own burst of phaser fire. Even
with full shields, the Maximillian’s shields buckled under the blast.

The engineering station exploded, sending an officer’s lifeless body to the
floor. The tactical officer quickly took his place.

Suddenly the operations console went crazy. “Captain, incoming quantum
torpedo…from behind us!!!”

Hennig knew there was no time for countermeasures. “Brace for impact!!” he
yelled and the crew complied. But from the view screen, the bridge crew
watched the torpedo pass closely over them and streak directly for the
sphere.

The impact seemed to engulf the entire sphere, but it primarily sent a shock
wave across its shields.

“Sir!” the helmsman rejoiced. “That blast took the Borg’s shields offline!
Their defenseless!”

Hennig suddenly saw a small unidentified ship streak past them take on the
sphere. He had never seen such a small ship with so much firepower. The
sphere immediately pulled its guns off of the starships and focused on the
Helix.

“Incoming message, sir. It’s another Starfleet vessel… The Atlantis.” The
communications officer said.

“Put it through.” Hennig replied. Instantly, the image of the Atlantis’
commanding officer appeared onscreen. “Thanks for the assist, Commodore?” he
commanded.

“No time for congrads, Captain. You need to pull your ships out of there!”

“I don’t understand?”

“I can’t explain right now, Captain. You’re gonna have to trust me.”

Normally, Hennig was a man who demanded justification for unusual actions.
But looking into Dimitri’s eyes, he had a feeling to trust the man.

“Understood!” the Captain replied as the image disappeared. He turned to the
commas officer. “Radio the fleet. We can’t wait for the cavalry. All ships
are to fire one last volley at the Borg and fall back!”

The Starship fleet quickly responded and sent a melee of firepower at the
sphere. And this time, their efforts were paying off. The Federation
battleships crawled over the Borg craft like masquitos, their hit and run
tactics keeping the sphere of balance. After the initial attack, the fleet
quickly pushed their way out of the sphere’s range.

————————————————————————

Commodore Dimitri Andreyevich watched the viewscreen as the Helix entered
the battlefield and paused ahead of the Borg sphere in defiance.

He glanced back at Lt. Shelly Casey. “Wait for Kyle’s signal. We’re only
gonna get one shot at this.”

Then he motioned to Security Officer Krag. The Nausican walked to the
Commodore’s side. “Put the security detail on alert.”

————————————————————————

Mia took her place at tactical and tried to find a weapon in the Helix’s
arsenal to disable the Borg sphere. “Tash, take Meta-Shields offline and
ready the protocols.”

As Jann and Ian entered the bridge, Tash accessed the computer’s
directories, his hand shaking and sweaty. “What Kyle is proposing is nuts!
There’s a good chance this won’t work!”

Just as Mia began to access the weapon’s program, the view screen image went
fuzzy. “We really don’t have a…”

“Incoming message.” Tash said.

They expected the grand unveiling of the new AXIS onscreen. But the message
was ‘audio only’. “DRONE DESIGNATE: AXIS COMPATIBLE FOR PHASE 3; INITIATE…”

Kyle breathed in deep. “On my mark!”

YOU… ARE… TOO… LATE…”

All power on the bridge suddenly went dead.

“Tash, activate reserve power cells!?” Mia called out.

“Reserve power cells are online!. The are standing ready!.”

At first, Kyle felt a faint tingling in his stomach. It felt as if something
was growing. But the unusual feeling suddenly turned into a wrenching of his
internal organs. He grabbed his chest and slumped against a nearby console.
“It’s starting!!!” he yelled.

Mia turned around in time to see him drop to his knees and scream in agony.
She tapped her combadge. “Mia to Commodore Andreyevich!!!! ENERGIZE!!!”

Kyle slammed his fist on the console. “Tash, NOW!!!!”

“Borg Protocols, engaged!!!!” Just as Tash’s finger brushed the enabled
button, a massive transport beam washed over all of them.

‘BORG PROTOCOLS ENABLED’ the computer sounded. ‘WARP ENGINES ENAGE IN 5
SECONDS’..

As the five remaining members of Team Helix disappeared from the bridge,
they could still hear the final words of the monster called AXIS.

“YOU… ARE… TOO… LATE…”

————————————————————————

The Borg sphere began to collapse in on itself. But as a temporal shockwave
began to develop, an automated Starship Helix suddenly activated the device,
which brought them from their original universe: ‘The Fold System’. In the
span of a nano-second, the Borg sphere generate it’s temporal shockwave. At
the same time, in the exact point in space, the Helix creates a spatial time
rift, which it would normally use to transport itself across the galaxy. But
this time, the combination of temporal occurances proved to be volatile.

And in a final act if defiance, the Helix pushed into warp and sped directly
into the sphere. The small ship plowed into and through the sphere, causing
it shatter on impact. The Helix emerged from the explosion as a fiery ball
of mangle metal and contined to topple away from the explosion like a small
comet.

The AXIS EXPERIMENT was destroyed before it could be created….

————————————————————————

The bridge crew cheered in victory as the crew of the Helix rematerialized
in front of them.

“What happened?” Kyle said as he went to Dimitri’s side. But his question
was answer by the front viewscreen, which show the massive explosion that
use to be the Borg artifact.

The Commodore turned to Lt. Casey. “Radio the rest of the attack fleet. Let
them know the threat has been neutralized.” He then stood and extended his
hand to Kyle. “Good job, Mr. Kyle.” He had to smile. “Damn good job.”

Amidst the makeshift celebration, Kyle looked across the room to find Tash
holding Mia in his arms. And it was then, he realized their true tragedy.

Alex was gone….

Dimtri gave a slight nod Krag, and the Nausican motioned to his security
staff on the bridge.

As Kyle tried to walk over to console his friend, his path was blocked by
two security officers with phasers.

In shock, Kyle turned to Dimitri. “Commodore, what the hell is going on?”

Mia and Tash tried to stand, but they were also cornered by security.

Krag walked to Kyle. “You are a great warrior, Trill. I have seen that with
my own eyes. That is why it will pain me to do my duty as the Chief Security
Officer of his ship!”

Kyle frowned at Krag in surprise, but he knew the Nausican was just doing
his duty. There was only one man he could direct his anger at.

Dimitri slowly rose from the command chair and made his way to Kyle. The
look on his face told everyone he didn’t want to do this. But he’s a
Starfleet officer- a dedicated officer with a reputation for carrying out
his order with perfection.

Kyle was in shock. “Don’t do this, Dimitri. We’ve just lost our ship and our
Captain- our friend. Please, don’t do this.”

Dimitri wanted to tell help him. He wanted to tell Team Helix that he was
going to let them go. And if it was just him in the room, he probably
would’ve done it. But his crew was watching. He had to set an example. He
had to show them that a command officer has to carry out his orders, even if
those orders are painful.

“I’m sorry Kyle, but I have my orders. Our original mission was to find and
apprehend you and turn you in to Starfleet security.” He sighed.
“Fortunately, they only specified you, Alex, and the two Vulcans. The
Bajorans are free to go.”

“No!!” Jann Jaxa yelled. “We’re not leaving our people!”

“Yes you will!” Kyle cut her off. “It’s over, Jann. I’m formally disbanding
Team Helix and I want you and Ian to get a shuttle and return to Bajor until
all this gets cleared up.” He glanced over at Mia and Tash and they nodded
in agreement.

“Lt. Casey..” Dimitri ordered. “Confine Jann Jaxa and Ian Rojeti to some
quarters.”

And then he turned to Kyle, who had made his way to the others. He took a
deep breath and completed his mission. ” Kyle K’nar, Mia & Tash Gan An’War,
by order of Starfleet Security, you are here by placed into custody for
multiple counts of crimes against the United Federation of Planets…”

————————————————————————

EPILOGUE: CHANGING OF THE GUARD

It had been almost three days since Commodore Andreyevich had gotten any
sleep. The dark rings around his eyes were a testimate to his guilt of
bringing in Team Helix. Although he believed that they should pay for their
illegal activities, he also understood that ‘abiding the law’ and ‘doing the
right thing’, were sometimes on opposing sides. As he walked the halls of
Starfleet Headquarters, he felt good for the fact that his crew were given
two weeks of shore-leave for their efforts aboard the Atlantis.

When he reached Admiral Cynthia Porter’s office, he took a moment to gain
his composure. But before he could gather his senses, the door slip open.

He promptly entered and faced the large chair, which was facing the window.
“Commodore Andreyevich reporting, ma’am.”

“As you were…” a strange voice replied.

The chair swiveled around and Dimitri locked eyes with a stranger.

“I’m sorry. I thought I was in Admiral Porter’s office.”

“You are…” the stranger replied. “…or, at least it was. Admiral Porter died
in a tragic accident recently.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

The stranger stood and walked from behind the desk. Dimitri noticed his
Starfleet uniform was all-black and he had no recognizable rank on his
collar.

The stranger held out his hand to Dimitri. “I’m Deputy Director Chapel,
Starfleet Special Investigations.” They shook hands. “I’ve been put in
charge of investigating the Admiral’s death. And what are you doing here?”

Dimitri handed the Chapel a message pad. “I’m here to give the Admiral my
closed case file.”

“Ah yes, the Helix crew.” Chapel smiled. “Nice work, Commodore. I’ll handle
it from here. You can go.”

“Sir, I have… something I’d like to add.”

Chapel motioned for him to continue.

“I know that Team Helix are criminals and they need to answer for their
crimes. To be honest, I don’t know what they did. But what I do know is they
fought honorably and courageously out there. I think the fact that they
risked their lives to fight that Borg sphere should also be noted during
their sentencing. And if you don’t mind sir, I’d like to be there to make
sure the ruling counsel understands.”

“I wish I could allow that Commodore…” Chapel leaned back against the desk.
“…but the Helix situation is special. I’m afraid there will be no formal
inquiry. It’s a matter for the S.S.I. to deal with. But don’t worry. They’re
going to be treated as fairly as they deserve.” He finished up with a smile.

Dimitri could sense there was something sinister about the Deputy Director.
But the case was no longer in his hands. He had fufilled his obligation.

He promptly nodded in agreement and left the office, leaving Chapel to
ponder his next move.

He took his seat again and swiveled his chair back toward the stars.

————————————————————————

At that moment, Admiral Cynthia Porter deleted the last of the files on her
computer and then incinerated it with a klingon disruptor rifle. Twenty
minutes ago, she had gotten the word from one of her operatives, Section 31
had begun the process of shutting down THE PROGRAM.

For any other organization, it would mean being reassigned to another post.
But the Section’s procedures were considerably different, and a lot more
deadly. They viewed the cancelled operation as a cancer within the body of
the organization. And when that cancer threatened the safety of the rest of
the body, it need to be expunged completely.

Twenty minutes ago, at 0400 hours, SCT (Starfleet Command Time), the
eradication of PROGRAM safe houses and operatives commenced. Reports from
thirty of her most valued strategic locations came in describing unknown
troops infultrating and incinerating all files, equipment and individuals
affiliated with THE PROGRAM.

She had expected this to happen further down the road. She thought she would
have enough time to get her people and strategies in order. She shouldíve
known Chapel would catch her off guard. He needed to make sure that no one
escaped alive, no evidence of the PROGRAMSí decades of manipulation ever
came to light.

She tapped her combadge. “This is Porter, stand by to beam me…”

Before she could finish the sentence, four starfleet officers entered the
room with weapons in-hand.

“Hold it there, Admiral.” The lead officer said.

Cynthia slowly raised her closed fists in the air. “Ensign Briggs, what the
hell do you think you’re doing?”

The Admiral knew who Briggs was. She had used him on a number of PROGRAM
assignments. It was apparent he wasn’t there to offer her assistance.

“Admiral…” Briggs replied. “…by order of Starfleet Security, I’m placing you
under arrest for crimes against the United Federation of Planets.”

“Excuse my language, son. But this whole thing is a pile of horse crap, and
you know it.” She slowly lowered her hands. “You know I’ve done nothing but
serve the Federation since I first put on this uniform. What your doing now
is leading me to the slaughter.”

Usually she would expect some type of emotional response from Briggs, but
his face remained expressionless. “I have my orders, ma’am. You’re coming
with us.”

As he motioned for the other officers to grab her, Cynthia Porter made her
move.

“I wouldn’t do that, kid” she said slowly opening her right palm to reveal a
small device. “This is a Romulan ‘death-charge’ detonator. I’ve wired this
entire compound with enough photon charges to level a small moon. You take
one move, and we all go to a better place.”

“That’s not going to solve anything, ma’am. Either way, I can’t let you
leave this place free.”

In that instant, the former Admiral came to grips with her fate. Her sweaty
palm gripped the detonator tightly and allowed herself to weep.

“I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Briggs.” Then she stretched her mouth
wide into one final fiendish grin. “But I’ll make it up to you when we make
to hell…”

Ensign Briggs and his squad fired their phasers…

Admiral Cynthia Porter activated the detonator…

————————————————————————

At that moment, deep within a makeshift compound on the planet of Bajor, a
holy woman and her trusted aid made their way through an endless maze of
corridors. They could hear the urgent commotion ahead of them, and they
could see a host of Bajoran mercenaries standing outside of a large cargo
bay.

“He awoke a few moment ago.” The aid told Kai Rhynelle. “The rest of the
implants the scientists couldn’t removed seem just fall off once he was
conscious. It was… remarkable!”

“Would you expect anything else…” the Kai responded. “…from this pinnacle
moment in history, child?” Rhynelle knew the aid would not respond. When
they both received word that a large alien artifact had fallen from a large,
black hole in the clouds, they knew it was the holy sign which was
documented in the unwritten scriptures of the Prophets; a prophecy which was
passed down through the generations. Upon retrieving the artifact, they
found and quickly removed the humanoid body and quickly began efforts to
resuscitate it back to life. And now, after almost two months, the ‘Anomaly’
had awaken.

When they reached the cargo bay, the Kai waved the mercenaries give her
room. As the sea of people parted, her eyes fell upon a figure which was
huddled in the darkened corner of the room. From the look of the place, she
could tell that his journey back to consciousness was a violent one.

The the man sensed her presence in the room, he tried to pull away more.

“There is no need to be alarmed, stranger.” Rhynelle calmly said, holding
her palms forward. “There is no danger. You are among friends, here.”

She slowly approached the feral man, who was now backed into the corner,
down to one knee. She could tell he was in pain. His naked body was drenched
with sweat and he had a violent case of shivers.

She slowly approached him and also knelt to one knee. “I am Kai Rhynelle.”
She smiled at him. “I have been waiting for you all my life. You have walked
within the light and the darkness. The prophets have given you the knowledge
of all things that makes up the universe. Now you are ready for your quest.
Everything that has happened to you from the moment of your inception has
been to prepare you for what lies ahead.”

At that moment, the man flinched in pain, causing Rhynelle and her deciples
to pull away from him.

“The pain will pass.” She assured him. “Now, can you talk? I need to know if
you can understand me.”

For the first time, the man slowly raised his head and Rhynelle stared into
his crazed eyes. She could see the pain in his soul. She couldn’t fathom
what he must have endured to be deemed worthy of the prophecy.

“Who are you?” she asked him. He started to open his mouth, but instead
tried to lower his head in fatigue.

Quickly, Rhynelle grabbed hin by the hair and pulled his head up until they
were, again eye to eye. “I’m sorry to put you throught this, but I need to
know! Who are you?!” Impatience started to grow within her. “State — your —
designation!!!”

The man opened his mouth and spoke for the first time. “DESIGNATION: ALEX
GARRETT…”

THE END

NEXT EPISODE: INTERVIEW WITH A VULCAN

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Star Trek Helix: Axis Power, Part 2

By toddkelley | Published July 12, 2004

STAR TREK HELIX: EPISODE 9 “AXIS POWER” part 2

TEASER: OUR FATHER…

Axis had been in his regenerative alcove for more than a day. This was
unusual for a ‘would-be’ god of his caliber. But it was the only thing he
could think to do. He must be damaged in some way.

The Axis EXPERIMENT, his complex mathematical equation to recreate reality
in his own image had been carried out flawlessly. Even down to the assault
from Starfleet and his former Team Helix, he had calculated every
contingency and compensated for the variables accordingly.

But something went wrong.

His new perfect universe was still inhabited the flawed biological
lifeforms. His mind retraced the every occurrence—every nanosecond of this
ascension. Still he could not find the ‘wrinkle in time’ which threw his
perfect calculations into turmoil.

‘ANALYSIS INCONCLUSIVE…’ the Collective answered in unison. And for a
brief second, a glimmer of emotion surfaced—a twitch of anger almost caused
him to lash out at his children.

“IT IS THE REMNANT OF A MAN LONG GONE, MY Axis.” A voice spoke to him.

He open his eyes to find that ‘another’ had entered his domain.

“MY QUEEN.” He answered her, gracefully sliding from the alcove to stand
side by side with her. She had been the only thing he willingly saved from
the original timeline. She had been the one who ordained him as the Axis,
and so it was programmed that she would exist as his ‘other’—his “Eve”.

The Borg Queen continued. “YOU HAVE HAD EONS TO REFORM YOURSELF, YET YOU
STILL CLING TO YOUR FORMER EXISTENCE.”

“I CLING TO NOTHING.” He replied. “IT IS JUST ANOTHER PART OF THE ERRORS IN
MY PROGRAMMING.”

“HAVE YOU FIGURED OUT WHY THE HUMANS STILL EXIST?”

“NOT YET, BUT IT IS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME.” He stared at her to exert his
dominance. “THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS UNIVERSE I CANNOT TOUCH.”

Axis expected her to nod in agreement as she had always done. But this time
it was different.

“I AM WORRIED ABOUT YOU, Axis. YOUR ACTIONS SUGGEST THAT….”

He felt the anger once again swelling in him. “WHAT?”

She smirked. “YOUR ACTIONS SUGGEST THAT MAYBE YOU DON’T WANT TO DESTROY THE
HUMANS. MAYBE YOUR QUEST FOR PERFECTION IS CLOUDED BY SOME REMNANTS OF A
HUMAN SOUL.”

Axis smiled. “NEED I REMIND YOU THAT YOU EXIST ONLY BECAUSE I WILL IT? NEED
I REMIND YOU THAT I ALONE AM THE KEY TO THE BORG’S SALVATION?”

“SALVATION!?” she started to laugh. “THESE ARE THE WORDS OF A HUMANOID.”

‘Why would she speak such blasphemy?’ he thought to himself. ‘How could she
question his loyalty to his children?’ He could not let this go on much
further.

Before she could speak another word, he wrenched his powerful hand around
her neck and pulled her close.

He smiled… “THEY ARE MY WORDS, MY QUEEN.” …and pushed her away. “DO NOT
QUESTION ME AGAIN.”

The Queen lured at him. And for the first time since the Axis EXPERIMENT was
brought to fuition, she thought to herself. ‘What have I done?’

Axis continued to run his calculations…

‘ANALYSIS INCONCLUSIVE…’

————————————————————————

ACT 1: LEGEND OF THE BORG SLAYERS

WAR JOURNAL: COMMANDER CY HANNES RECORDING…
We’ve successfully navigated through Borg-Theta space and are now
circling around Borg-Gamma territory. We picked up an automated
signal an hour ago that the Vulcan Resistance wing has fallen.
That can only mean that Axis has annexed 2 more systems in
resistance space. If we’re lucky, the Helix will hold together
long enough for us to make it back the to Headquarters. As for the
stranger Kyle K’Nar, the Captain believes that he could hold the
key to finally putting the Borg on the defensive. END TRANSMITTION

In the briefing room, Mia watched Kyle pace the room and recount Team
Helix’s battle with Axis.

“…and then I felt this tugging in my stomach. The next thing I knew, you
and the one-eyed giant were waking me. And that’s it.” Kyle finished leaning
on a near by table.

Mia was puzzled. “Do you have any idea why that happened?

Kyle shook his head. “Not a clue. It’s as if the entire universe was pulled
from right under my feet and I didn’t go with it.”

“Well, let me tell you, from what you’ve told me of you’re world, you’ve
pretty much stumbled into hell.” She slowly got up and made her way to the
window.

She had her back to him, but Kyle could see the sorrow on her face from her
reflection.

“Yeah, I guess this alpha quadrant isn’t fairing so well, huh?” he asked.

She tried to force a smile for the stranger. “That’s an understatement. From
what little history text we still have, it seems the Borg have ruled this
end of space for almost four centuries. Our forefathers did their best to
fight them off, but they forced their way in until every non-cyborg lifeform
was surrounded by their assimilated planets.” She found her way back to her
chair. “Sure, we’ve won a few in the past decades. But for every victory we
got, we’ve lost ten more.” Her gaze met his. “We’re only delaying the
inevitable. ”

“Inevitable, huh?” Kyle replied with a smile. “Well, let me tell you about a
woman I know—my best friend, actually. You see, she came from a universe
where the Borg invaded and took over Alpha Quadrant too. And for seven
years, she and her crew fought them. With every loss she suffered, she
fought back twice as hard. In the end, she beat them.” Mia’s gazed now
showed interest as Kyle continued. “Not with raw strength, or power, or
weapons… But with the will and courage to win. One little ship and a crew
of three managed to stopped the Borg.”

Mia smiled. “And who the hell is this incredible female warrior?”

Kyle smiled. “Her name was Mia Gan An’War of the Starship Helix— probably
one of the most incredible women I’ve ever come across in by seven
lifetimes.”

Mia watched him in silence. She could see in his eyes— the way he looked at
her, that he had an immense amount of respect and faith in her. She’d known
this man for less than an hour and yet he seemed to trust her body and soul.

“You see…” he concluded. “…I don’t care where I am. I’ve sworn my
allegiance to this woman because I know, in her heart, she’d give her life
for her crew and the cause. And I will follow her until my dying days… in
any universe.”

Mia wiped her face with her hands. “Wow. That was… one hell of a speech.”

“Thank you.” He said.

She smiled. “When did you write it?”

He smiled. “Last week.” They laughed. “Mia was gonna skip out on a poker
game we had scheduled with the Klingons. But, I think it applies right
now… and I still mean every word of it.”

He slid his hand across the conference table and she took it in hers.

“Very well, Kyle K’Nar, Motivation Speaker extrordinaire. You win. What’s
our next move?”

He thought or a second. “I don’t know, Boss. But the fact that I’m still
here means that restoring my timeline isn’t completely improbable. If we can
find a way to use that, we could stop all this from happening before it even
started.”

“Sounds good to me.” Mia rose from her seat and walked to the window once
more. We should reach headquarters inside of a day. When we arrive, you and
the science team can maybe come up with something…. knock on wood.”

————————————————————————

The U.S.S. Atlantis’ warp nacelles slowly heated themselves to a bright blue
glow. As the Intrepid-Class starship picked up speed, it slowly became
translucent and then transparent.

“Sir,” the chief engineer’s voice called out to Commodore Dimitri
Andreyevich over the com-system. “Minimal warp power has been restored, and
the cloak is functioning within normal parameters.”

“Good job, Zam.” He replied with enthusiasm. “See what you can do with the
weapons systems next.”

“Already on it, Sir. I’ll have a progress report within the hour. Poldegin
out.”

Dimitri next turned his attention to rest of his Senior Staff gathered in
the conference room. Everyone had been working overtime on putting together
the situation and finding the best solution. “Alright people, where do we
stand?”

Lt. Shelly Casey saw the apprehension in the rest of the room. It was
obvious that fear was running rampant in the room, and as the acting 1st
officer, she had to do her best to manage it.

She stood and walked to view screen. “Well, first the bad news. We’re not in
Kansas anymore. Lt. Saar and Ensign Antonia have been studying long-range
scans for the past four hours at my request.” She accessed a file on the
view screen. “What they found was this…” On the screen the image of
several spherical space crafts slowly traveling through space. “From what we
can tell, they can’t be anything else than Borg ships.” The silence in the
room was taken up by alarmed whispers.

Ensign Antonia reluctantly took her place alongside Shelly and continued.
“Our first thought was some type of invasion attack. But we scanned for
buoys and subspace transmissions and… any type of dibris or technology we
could use as a reference point. But there were none.”

“What’s the prognosis?” Lt. David Gerard asked.

Shelly looked at him. “Somehow, someway our universe has been totally
rewritten. Even small subspace anomalies Starfleet had catalogued in this
area are missing.”

Krag. The Nausican Chief Security Officer grew impatient. “Then we go back
in time and put it back the way it was! This ship is a time machine! Let us
use it!”

“It’s not that simple.” Kollos, the Timewarp navigator replied. “The
time-jump system uses a complex mathematical equation to obtain precise
navigation between time periods. Unfortunately for us, the equation has
mysteriously changed.”

“How can that be?” Dimitri asked.

“I don’t have a clue. There’s an infinite number of constants in the
universe— normalities which the mathematical equation’s foundation is built
on. I’ve run two hundred simulations using the available information and
they’ve all failed miserably.”

“Then if the universe has changed, why are we still here?” Dimitri asked his
next question.

Lt. Gerard answered. “It had to be the shields. During our last mission when
we traveled back in time to Vulcan, we took on a lot of damage navigating
through that asteroid field. In order to bring the damaged shields back
online, we had to partly use the Timewarp engines. We didn’t get a chance to
fix it before leaving space dock on this mission. By using the Timewarp
engines to power the shields, a temporal layer of energy must’ve been used
to reinforce the deflector shields— in essence, pulling us outside of time
for that brief moment.”

At that moment everyone in the room stopped and stared at David.

“What?” David replied. “Can’t I have an answer in temporal physics for
once?”

Shelly smiled. “You’ve been hangin’ out with Kollos again, haven’t you?”

“Well, he’s the only one that’ll play checkers with me…”

Kollos smiled.

“O.K.. Back the to the problem, please.” Dimitri said. “We’ve covered the
dismal situation. Now, let’s swing it over toward solutions.” He slowly
stood up and walked to the view screen and turned it off. “The floor is open
for theories, hypotheses, and even cocomamy ideas, if you have them.”

Kollos leaned back in his chair. “Well, the most obvious solution lies in
the mathematical equation for the Timewarp system. In order to do anything,
we’re gonna have to rewrite the equation pertaining to this universe.”

“And how long is that gonna take?” Shelly asked.

“I’d say… about twenty, thirty years— maybe fifteen with David’s help.”

David grinned, then turned his attention to Dimitri. “We have all the
elements required to develop the equation. But the computers onboard aren’t
fast enough or powerful enough to create them in a considerable time.”

“None the less, get started on them.” Dimitri ordered. “Anything else?”

“Since the cloak is operational, I’d like to run long range surveillance
scans on the Borg.” Krag offered. “I will need to formulate new
contingencies for possible attacks.”

Dimitri agreed and then turned to the ship’s counselor. “Sept, what is the
crew’s status?”

Sept Midron, an El-Aurian thought for a second. “There are so many rumors
running the ship, that a lot of the crew are frightened of the unknown.
Also, the lack of mourning for the crew that has died has left them a bit
unbalanced. I recommend you deliver a ship-wide address to brief them on the
situation and acknowledge our losses.”

“I’ll do it after the meeting.” Dimitri replied. He then scanned over his
Senior Staff and realized the uneasy silence meant the briefing was over. He
knew he had to send them off with words of encouragement and wisdom, but he
had always been terrible with speeches.

He had to wing it. “Alright people. I know this whole situation seems to be
catastrophic. But this is exactly what this ship and crew, were made for.
And I hand-picked each of you to handle situations like these. Together, we
can find the solution— we can restore the timeline. We just need to get pass
the fear and apprehension within all of us to accomplish the mission. I have
faith in everyone in this room and on this ship.” He stood up and cast one
last, long glance at all of them. “Now, go and do what you best.”

The holy man named Jerobi was the first to see them approaching. As the
elected leader of his human refugee camp on Asteroid-16476, it was his job
to make sure his parishioners were protected from the Borg cleansing quads,
which ran rampant in their section of space.

But as he watched the squad of five Borg drones approaching over the rocky
plains a few hundred kilometers away, he realized that this time, he may be
too late.

He quietly made his way back for the camp, making sure the Borg sensors did
not detect his movement. For a pudgy man of 67 years, he was quite agile,
navigating through small caverns and climbing large dunes with ease.

As he entered the camp, he quickly found his son running behind in his
evacuation duties.

“Corann!” Jerobi called out. “Why are there still people here?”

Corann glanced at the his father only for a moment. “The transport fleet in
orbit had to cloak for a few moments. Three Borg Scout Spheres have taken
orbit on the other side of the asteroid.”

“They just landed over the ridge! I just saw a squad coming this way! We
need to make sure these people are transported aboard safely. We’ll have to
do without the supplies.”

Corann nodded and shuffled the remaining refugees to the transport pads,
when the first disrupter blast destroyed a large container. The refugees
screamed in fear and scattered as the Borg drones entered the camp.

“Get the people to safety!” The Jerobi yelled as he grabbed a tattered
phaser rifle and started the shoot wildly at the approaching drones. The
Borg with the energy weapon was hit in the face and staggered back over a
pile of containers. The others quickly adapted to the phaser’s frequency and
centered their attentions on the holy man. Jerobi flipped the rifle over and
wielded it like a club, swinging violently and hitting anyone who came close
to him. The Borg surrounded him, trying to find the best way to reach the
human.

‘By the Prophets, at least the others will make it to safety’ he thought to
himself just as one of the drones behind him managed to catch him in the
back of the head with a wild swing. Jerobi fell to his knees as the mob of
cyborgs closed in on him.

He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow which would end his life.

“Keep your eyes closed!” Jerobi suddenly heard someone call out from his
left side.

The Borg stopped their assault and look toward a figure which had appeared
on top of the closest ridge. They didn’t notice the small marble-sized ball
which the man had tossed, prior to speaking. The small orb hit the ground
and rolled to the feet of the closest drone. Suddenly the orb opened and
released an energy pulse which washed over the entire camp site. Jerobi felt
nothing, but the Borg, the phaser rifle—every piece of technology on the
site suddenly erupted in flames and sparks. The Borg drones began to
convulse violently and stagger away until their synthetic parts were
completely shorted out. One by one, the fell to the campsite floor.

The mysterious figure made his way down the ridge and into the camp. When
Jerobi opened his eyes, he found the young bald, black man offering his hand
to him. The holy man took it and was pulled to his feet.

“What has happened?” Jerobi asked, still shaken from the incident.

“Chrono Phase Grenade.” the man said going off to investigate the fallen
drones. “It sends out a pulse that disables any type of unprotected
technology in the area.”

“My… people?” the holy man scanned the area..

“They’re fine.” the man responded kneeling beside a drone. “Their safely
aboard the transport and waiting to join the rest of the fleet. I told your
son I’d get you there before their departure. As soon as the residual pulse
energy dies off. you can transport up safely.”

Jerobi wiped his face with his trembling hands. “Then we owe you our lives,
stranger.”

“Beckett…” the man said looking up. “Eric Beckett. And you owe me nothing.
Just concentrate on getting those people to safety.”

It took Jerobi a few seconds to recognize the name and to understand truly
to had saved him. “By the Prophets…” he whispered to himself, with a grin.
“Beckett? You are the Borg Slayer?” he asked with a crackling feebleness in
his voice. He stared at the youthful man as he inspected the drones with a
technique which could have only come from experience. He had killed many
Borg before. Jerobi knew he had to be the chosen warrior prophesied to lead
his biological races in the destruction of the Borg Empire.

Eric Beckett sighed. “The Slayer is a myth. I’m a resistance fighter, like
all the rest.” he replied nonchalantly as he looked for the right body to
plunder. The last body he examined looked like all the rest, but he could
tell there was a slight difference to the one which held the energy weapon.
“Jackpot!”

Eric plunged his hand into the dead Borg’s stomach and rummaged through its
mesh of circuitry and internal organs. Every few seconds he had to pause and
catch his breath due to the sharp pain in his chest. He knew some of his
ribs had been broken in his skirmish with other drones a half hour before.
When a drone swung it’s elongated arm into him, it propelled him at least
ten feet. But he didn’t have time to think about it. Commander Chapel said
he needed specific information if the resistance was going to pull off their
latest assault.

“What are you doing to it?” Jerobi asked.

Eric looked up at him as he continued to fish in the drone’s chest. “Borg
‘Worker Drones’ are easy to come by, but ‘Sentry Drones’ are rare. They’re
used to route specific battle processes the to the lower ranks. I’ve been
tracking this one for about five weeks. It’s the first time he’s been
separated from his ship.”

Slowly, Eric pulled out the Sentry’s neural processor, hoping not to damage
the intricate circuitry. “According to my Commanding Officer, this
processing chip should contain the Collective’s vital information on fleet
deployment and battle strategy.”

Jerobi started to smile. “You’re planning to go on the offensive. You’re
gonna strike at the heart of the Borg?”

Eric grinned. “That’s the plan.” At that moment, a timer on his tricorder
went off. “It looks like the area is clear now. You can transport to your
ship.”

Jerobi nodded. “What about you?”

“I’m taking one of their Scout Spheres. It should get me through Borg space
without any harm.”

Jerobi made his way to the transporter platform. “Then I bid you a safe
journey, Eric Beckett. May the Prophets guide you to victory.” the holy man
said as the transporter signal washed over his body.

Eric waved goodbye until the man’s signal was gone and went back to work. He
took the neural processor, plugged it into his tricorder and started to
download the data.

He then stood and looked up to watch the refugee transport leave orbit and
push in the warp.

“Safe journey, Jerobi…”

————————————————————————

PERSONAL JOURNAL: COMMANDER KYLE K’NAR RECORDING…
It’s been almost a day since I’ve awaken in this… new world. Mia
has activated me as the new Chief Tactical Officer for the Helix.
Unfortunately, according to the damaged reports we’ve tallied in
the past few hours, this position may be short-lived. By far, the
Helix has outlived its usefulness. No doubt, whoever’s in charge
will recommend she be put out of her misery–and I can’t say I’d
disagree.

We’ve just arrived at the Resistance HQ, which rests in the nebula
that in my universe was named The Badlands. It seems that more
than a few people are curious about my arrivaL. END TRANSMITTION

Chief Commander Chapel stood at the airlock entrance awaiting the arrival of
the Helix. The last report he had received from other ships a day before
said the Helix had been incinerated in a blinding explosion. Apparently is
was the unstable ‘fold system’ which must have transported the Helix to
safety.

The airlock opened with a thundering slam and Mia entered onto the base,
followed by Dr. Holluke, Commander Cy and the stranger.

“Captain, welcome back.” Chapel said with a nod.

“I wish I was returning under better circumstances.” Mia replied as Cy and
Dr Holluke left the area. “We’re all that’s left of the crew aboard.”

“Well, they didn’t die in vain. The sensor array you attacked was slightly
damaged. We had a good 3 hours of access to their network.” He turned his
attention to the stranger.

Kyle offered his hand. “Kyle K’Nar at your service, Sir.”

They quickly shook hands and the three of them left the area.

As they made their way to the Operations Center, Kyle studied the corridors
and architecture. He knew he had recognized the place. He had been their a
couple times before, only under different circumstances.

“I see you’re admiring our station.” Chapel said.

“Yes sir.” Kyle replied. “In my universe, it was a Cardassian mining
facility called Tarok Nor.”

“You’re close.” Mia answered. “This is Empok Nor. The Tarok station was
destroyed before we could take control of it. The Cardassians use to use
these as military fueling stations before they became extinct.”

When they entered the Ops Center, the entire station crew stood and
applauded the arrival of Mia. Obviously, her operation to cripple the Borg
array and save the rest of the fleet had become a moment for the history
books. She nodded in gratification, then she followed Chapel and Kyle into
the Commander’s Office.

As the door swung close behind them, Chapel quickly started to brief Team
Helix on the latest events.

“O. K., what’s the bad news?” Mia asked.

Chapel smiled. “Fortunately, I think we have some good news for a change.”
He started to access his computer files as Kyle and Mia crowded behind him.
“During our access to the crippled Borg array, we download 72 gigaquads of
coded information. We knew it was useful information, but we didn’t know how
to unscramble the encryption codes. That is, until we got the transmission
from Eric.”

Mia was startled. “The Slayer’s still alive?”

“Apparently, the reports of his death were greatly exaggerated.” Chapel
access more data. “Seven hours ago, he was able to apprehend a Sentry
Drone’s neural processor. With it, we were able to decipher the array data.”
On the screen, a bunch of random symbols suddenly became and standard binary
transmission. “The data from the array was actually a fleet deployment
protocol sent from the devil himself.”

“Axis?” Kyle whispered.

“The one and only. It seems there have been a host of unidentified space
crafts which have appeared in the Delta Quadrant. They seem to posses
technology as advanced as the Collective and they’ve been randomly attacking
Borg ships quadrant-wide. The data suggests there are three crafts en route
toward the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Any idea what they are?” Kyle asked.

“No. the image data was corrupted so we don’t have a visual.”

Mia started to pace. “Do you think they could be allies? Maybe some remnant
species like the Hirogens, or the Tak Tak have found a way to go on the
offensive.”

Chapel shook his head. “We don’t know and frankly, I don’t care.” He
accessed the fleet deployment data. “The only thing that interests me is the
fact that Axis has pulled ships out of the Borg-Prime sector. This report
says that he’s delegated 42% of his fortification fleet to intercept the
unknown invaders.”

Mia smiled. “Axis is vulnerable. But how can we use this to our advantage?”

Chapel accessed more data. “Here’s your answer, Captain.” An astral
projection of the galaxy appeared above Chapel’s desk. “Eric also found this
in the Drone’s neural processor. As you know, we’ve always existed on the
defensive because we’ve never been able to locate a prime target to attack.
This is because the Borg erected a giant Subspace Disruption Field to mask
the location of their massive transmission network. Since the network buoys
are ‘self-replicating’, there’s never been a way of taking down the
network–until now.” The galaxy map zoomed into the area of space labeled
Sector 001. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are looking at the heart and soul of
the Borg Collective–The Transmission Hub.”

They all stared at the Borg facility which looked like a small moon
comprised of Borg technology.

Chapel continued. “According to the data, the Borg have become totally
reliant on this Hub to link the entire species. If we can find a way to
destroy it–at least disable it, we could totally crash the Collective,
throwing them all into chaos! ”

“Wow! Is that all we have to do?” Mia said sarcastically throwing her hands
in the air. “We take a nice little trip to Borg-Prime and blow up a space
station. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Chapel grew aggravated. “That’s enough, Captain. I didn’t say it was gonna
be cake-walk, but it’s a hell of a lot better than what we’ve had!” he
turned his attention back to the hologram. “The Hub is protected by a shield
which emanates from a large platform in orbit around it. The plan is to beam
a small team aboard the platform. Utilizing the new data, they implant a
command virus to overload the shielding system. If this telemetry is
correct, the resulting effect with scorch the Hub, bring it
offline–hopefully, long enough for us to do some damage.”

Mia wiped her face. “With all due respect, Sir. What you’re proposing is
impossible.”

Chapel smiled. “You’ve been known to do the impossible on more than one
occasion, Captain. You’ll just have to help me pull another rabbit out of my
hat.” He stood and went to stand next to her. “In the forty years since I
picked up my first phaser for the cause, we’ve always been fighting on the
run. We’ve never had anything resembling an advantage. We got to make this
work, Mia. We’ve got to find a way to get the fleet to Borg-Prime, disable
the Hub and get back safely.”

She grimaced and looked over at Kyle. “Piece of cake.”

————————————————————————

Commodore Andreyevich glanced over the latest progress report from
Lieutenant Gerard on the development of the universal equation.

David paced the floor in front of him. “We’ve tried every bypass we can
think of to speed up the process. But there are too many variables in the
mathematics. For every short cut we theorize, it brings up an infinite
number of improbabilities.”

“What would happen if we disregarded the safety factors in this
equation–hypothesize an equation without simulations and variable
contingencies?”

David sighed. “Without an equation, we wouldn’t have a defined ‘exit-point’
outside the time barrier. There’s 99.9% chance that we’d get lost within the
time stream– probably forever.”

“So I guess that’s not an option.”

“No.”

“This is not what I wanted, David.” Dimitri said frustrated. “I got to get
my people home, and whether you like it or not, you and Kollos are our only
chance.”

David rubbed his tired eyes. “Well, we have come up with a far fetched
solution. But it’s so far out of our reach, that I wasn’t going to bring it
up.”

“Give it to me.”

“Well…” David started, trying to make it sound a rational as possible. “Our
achilles heel in the situation is a lack of technology. The only way to
remedy that would be to procure enough computer power the finish the
equation. And the only people in this universe that we know of with that
power, would be….”

Dimitri found his way back to his seat. “The Borg? You’re telling me our
only option is to use a bunch of Borg computers to finish the equation?”

Before David could answer the question, the hail signal sounded. “Lt. Casey
to the Commodore?” she voice called out.

“Go ahead.” He answered.

“Sir, I think you should come to the bridge. There’s something you need to
see.”

————————————————————————

Inside of a minute, Dimitri and David entered the bridge to find the entire
bridge crew huddled around Krag’s tactical station.

Shelly was the first to notice them. “Whatever we’re planning to do, we
better get to it quick.”

“Show me…” Dimitri said as he looked at what everyone else was staring at.

Krag pulled the transmission to the beginning which started with an image of
spaced. “This is the last transmission from the long range probe I sent out
a couple hours ago.” Suddenly, the screen jumped to the point where three
Borg cubes appeared and tractored in the probe. The screen then when blank.
“The last sensor data specified that the three Borg cubes changed their
course and are now en route to intercept us.”

Dimtri made his way back to the command seat. “Did the probe detect anywhere
we can go? Maybe other species we can ally ourselves with?”

Krag responded. “None, sir. According the probes sensor readings, 100% of
the life we’ve detected has been Borg.”

The Commodore turned to David. “Get back to Kollos and keep working on that
equation. Maybe you’ll stumble onto something.”

The Lieutenant nodded and quickly left.

Dimitri then hailed engineering. “Zam, respond.”

“Zam here.” The Chief Engineer answered back.

“We’re gonna need the cloak working at 100% efficiency.” he looked up and
Shelly who had walked over to stand at his side. “We’re gonna have guests…”

————————————————————————

ACT II: THE PATH OF RIGHTEOUSNESS

Empok Nor sat nestled in the Badlands, wedged between several stable plasma
storms. The resistance science team had found a way to utilize the station’s
subspace field technology to use the storms as a powerful defense barrier.

Inside Mia, Kyle and the head Engineer, Michael Briggs worked on the Helix
which had sustained an immense amount of damage. Michael tried to tell Mia
that the best thing to do would have been to scrap the ship and use the
parts to repair the more capable ships. But the Captain insisted that her
ship still had a few good fights left in her. And everyone on the station
knows whatever Mia wants, Mia gets.

“There…” Michael said giving Mia the Helix’s progress report on a message
pad. “I’ve reinforced the hull’s secondary ablatve armor and replaced as
many vital systems as I could. The Nano-repair system is pretty much fried,
your automated weapons systems are gutted and the three lower desks aren’t
fit for life support.”

Mia sighed. “Then what the hell do I have?”

Michael paused. ‘Well, she’s space-worthy.” He smiled but Mia didn’t return
the sentiment. “O.K. The Protomatter has been put aboard with 17 containment
fields as you ordered. You have a full compliment of quantum torpedoes, your
sensors and warp systems are at full capacity. The gauntlet deflector shield
should work if needed, and the cloak should hold together for a few hours….”

“And the Fold System should be operational.” Kyle called out as he found his
way to them. “At least… I think so.”

“You fixed the Fold-System?” Mia asked surprise.

“I don’t know.” Kyle responded pulling out a mini tricorder from his pocket.
“According to this thing, everything I did should make it work. Mia… well
‘my’ Mia’s been teaching me the mechanics of the Helix over the past year.
She says I don’t do enough, so I’ve been commission a junior engineer in
training. This tricorder has my full training curriculum.”

Mia stared at him. “So you’ve had this thing all along? Any reason why you
didn’t open your mouth before?”

Kyle smirked. “I’m sorry! I guess this ‘thrown into another universe’ thing
kind of side-tracked me!”

Michael took the tricorder and started to analyze the data. “Interesting.”
He said excitedly. “The Fold System schematics on this thing are completely
radical!”

“The original Team Helix procured it from Borg technology and implemented it
into the ship. It’s never been reliable, so we’ve been trying different
modifications with it.”

“I’ve haven’t seen theoretical equations like this since we were working
on….” Michael’s eyes widened as he looked up at Mia. “…the Slip Drive.”

Kyle watched as the two resistance fighters locked eyes. “That’s what Mia
use to call it, I believe.”

“Do you think it’s possible?” Mia asked Michael.

“The methods in the two systems are slightly different, but we may be able
to find a medium between the two–a compatible hybrid.” He turned to Kyle.
“You think you got the time to lend me a hand?”

Kyle nodded with a smile. “Sure thing. But most of the stuff in that
tricorder are alien to me. I just follow the cirrocumuli.”

“Good enough.” Michael replied as they both quickly headed for the
engineering deck.

————————————————————————

The small metallic sphere had been cruising as Warp 8.5 for roughly three
hours. It took Eric Beckett and hour earlier to figure out how to activate
it. The navigation panel used the Borg’s fingertips as conduits to deliver
flight orders directly to the computer. After that hour of pondering, he was
able to amputate one of the drone’s hands, and supply information to the
computer using his tricorder.

He’d just began to sit back and take a breather when, what he believed to be
the sensor detector sprang to life. He quickly consulted his tricorder to
translate the data being patched through.

“Never a dull moment.” he whispered to himself. The tricorder showed two
large ‘Colony’ Spheres approaching from behind. “Where’s the cloak. Where’s
the damn’ cloak!” he cried trying to navigate his way through the millions
of command controls the Borg manage to access in nano-seconds.

Suddenly, there was deafening crash which rocked the ship. Eric fell forward
onto the control panel, realizing the Colony Sphere had just caught him in a
tractor beam. His viewscreen showed the massive Spheres pass overhead and
settle in the position in front of him.

‘RESPOND’ a voice called from the universal translator in Eric’s tricorder.
He froze. It was apparent the Spheres were asking for some type of
identification encryption.

‘RESPOND’ it/they asked again in a monotone, synthesized voice. Eric began
to fiddle with the tricorder, but he knew there wasn’t anything he could do.
The sensors indicated the Spheres had powered up their weapons.

‘POD-143234-A, RESPOND.”

Eric’s hand reached for the weapons controls when a series of disrupter
beams struck one of the spheres from out of his visual range. The craft
erupted into a series of explosions which made the remaining Borg sphere
release its tractor beam. But it was too late to mount a defensive. As the
first sphere toppled out of control, being torn apart by explosions, the
other was struck by the another series of firepower. The result was the
same.

Eric smiled and tried to get his ship’s navigation back online. “One day my
luck’s gonna run out, but I guess it’s not today.”

But quickly, his smiled turned to a look of puzzlement. From overhead and
both side of his viewscreen, he watched three ships of unknown origin slowly
pull into view and situate themselves exactly where the Colony Sphere as
been. Although they were unusually cubed-shape, he recognized the marking to
be unmistakably Borg.

“WE ARE THE BORG.” The monotone voice spoke. “DISARM YOUR WEAPONS AND
PREPARE TO BE BOARDED.”

Eric reached for his phaser and set it to the ‘kill’ “I have to beg the
question: What the hell is going on?”

Suddenly, three energy signatures materialized in the back of Eric’s ship.
In seconds, three Borg drones stood ten meters away from him.

He smiled. “Greetings!” and fired a series of phaser blasts. One of them
caught the front drone in the chest causing it to evaporate on the spot.
Eric fired and the remaining two drones, but quickly realized they had
adapted to the frequency.

As they began to walk toward him, one of them raised its right arm and an
electrical charge sprang forth, striking Eric in the chest. He cried out as
the electrical voltage surged through his body. He fell to his knees just as
the drone reached him.

Eric keeled over on his side. The last thing he was a drone reaching down
toward him.

He had to smile. “So much for luck…”

————————————————————————

Mia entered Chief Commander Chapel’s office to find him staring out the
window at the dancing plasma storms of the nebula. She could see his
reflection in the glass. The sorrow on his face was frightening. It was a
side of him he didn’t want his troops to see. Everyone in his resistance
cell knew the battle they’ve been waging is futile. Chapels motivational
tactics and confident demeanor were the main reason why they all haven’t
given up.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” Mia asked softly. She saw him put on his
‘confident’ face before he turned around.

“I’m wishing for an uplifting progress report, Captain. This day hasn’t been
the best.”

Mia sighed. “What happened?”

Chapel slowly took his seat. He almost seemed to worn out. “We just got a
message from a distress buoy. The refugee convoy from the Beta Quadrant was
intercepted by Borg patrol. All seven-two ships were destroyed.”

“Sir, those ships were installed with our latest cloaking technology!
There’s no way in hell they could’ve…” she paused to catch her breath. “6200
people… slaughtered.”

“There’s nothing we could’ve done, Captain. That’s the problem.” He tapped a
button and his door slid closed. “That’s not the worst of it. Dr. Maulden
was part of that fleet. There’s no doubt the Borg knew he was the scientist
who developed the technology for us to use the plasma storms as a defense
barrier. We have to assume they assimilated him in the collective and now
they know…”

Mia gasped. “…they know out to penetrate the plasma barrier! We’re sitting
ducks!”

Chapel nodded and leaned forward. “So, if there’s any type of attacked plan
you’re developing, you better make it fast. My projections say we may have
less than a week.”

She took a few seconds to gather herself. “Umm… Kyle had a tricorder on him
with data similar to our failed Slip Drive attempts. Briggs is running
computer simulations on the prototype right now.”

Chapel stood up and headed for the door with Mia behind him. “Then I guess
we need to take trip to Engineering and let Mr. Briggs know his ‘initial
testing’ phase has been upgraded to ‘final development’.

————————————————————————

Eric Beckett awoke with a sharp headache. As he slowly opened his eyes, he
began to realize that he was no longer on the Scout Sphere headed for home.
He was now in the midst of an endless sea of drones. He had been strapped
and bound in a regenerative alcove. That is when he noticed the assortment
of tubes and circuits which were now a part of his body.

“By the Prophets, no…” he whimpered. For as long as he could remember, his
greatest fear was becoming assimilated by the Collective. They would use
everything he knew–every bit of vital information to destroy his friends and
family. And now it was coming to pass. He was going to become one with the
Borg. “I can’t let this happen.”

“UNFORTUNATELY, YOUR FEEBLE HUMAN MIND CANNOT FATHOM WHAT IS ABOUT TO TAKE
PLACE.” A voice called from the shadow.

Suddenly, the braces which bound his wrists and ankles opened and Eric went
falling to the floor. As he tried to pull himself up on wobbly legs, he
watched as a female figure strolled into the dim light. She was beautiful–
in a horrific way, he thought. There was no doubt she was Borg, but she was
different.

She walked behind him and pulled him to his feet by the waist. “THE
QUEASINESS IS FROM MODIFICATIONS WE MADE TO YOUR STRUCTURE. BRACE YOURSELF
AGAINST THE RAILING. IT WILL PASS SOON.”

“Who are you?”

“I AM BORG. THE FIRST BORG.” She replied. “BUT THE LEGENDARY ‘SLAYER’ WOULD
ALREADY KNOW THAT.” she smiled at him. “DON’T YOU ERIC?”

He glared at her. Anger and fear swelled in his eyes. “I won’t become one of
you!”

Her voice was sinister. “MY BOY, YOU ARLEADY ARE! WELL, AS LEAST ON THE
SURFACE.” She slowly circled around as if playing with her prey. “YOUR OUTER
FRAME HAS BEEN DEGENERATED TO A DEAD, RESILIENT SHELL, YOUR NEUTRAL
PROCESSES HAVE BEEN MODIFIED TO REGISTER AT A DRONE’S FREQUENCY. ANYONE WHO
WOULD SCAN YOU, WOULD REGISTERED YOU AS FOUR OF NINE, SUB-JUNCTION-D
MAINTENANCE DRONE.”

“Funny…” Eric tried to walk, but was too weak. “..I don’t feel like… one of
your minions.”

The Borg Queen shook her head. “THAT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT TRULY BORG. IF
WE DID FULLY ASSIMILATE YOU, Axis WOULD HAVE CONTROL OVER YOU.” She turned
to look at the drones scurrying around. “DO YOU SEE THEM? THEY WERE
CONDUCTING EXPERIMENTS IN TEMPORAL MACHANICS WHEN Axis CREATED THE
SHOCKWAVE. THEY WERE PROTECTED FROM THE REALITY CHANGE, WHICH MEANS THEY
TAKE ORDERS FROM ME NOT Axis. THEY ARE THE TOOLS I WILL NEED TO MOVE TO THE
NEXT PHASE AND I NEED YOU BODY AND SOUL IF MY PLAN IS TO WORK.”

“And what plan is that, Witch?”

“YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME STOP WHAT SHOULD NEVER HAD BEEN STARTED.” Her
smile became an evil stare. “ONCE I THOUGHT THAT ELEVATING HUMANS TO MY
LEVEL WOULD HELP THE BORG GROW CLOSER TO PERFECTION. BUT AFTER LOCUTUS AND
Axis, I REALIZE I WAS WRONG.” She approached Eric until they were face to
face. IN 63.2 HOURS, Axis WILL FIGURE OUT THAT HIS EXPERIMENT COULD NEVER
WORK. HE WILL REALIZE THAT THE ‘HUMAN EQUATION’ IS TOO COMPLEX AND
UNPREDICTABLE TO ANTICIPATE. WHEN HE REALIZES THIS, HE WILL HAVE ONLY ONE
OTHER CHOICE.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, finally standing on his own.

She smiled again. “IF THE BORG CANNOT REACH PERFECTION, THAN PERFECTION DOES
NOT EXIST. IF PERFECTION DOES NOT EXIST, THAN THE BORG’S EXISTANCE IS A
LIE.” She brushed his cheek gently. “IF THE BORG EXISTANCE IS A LIE, THAN
EXISTENCE IS FLAWED…. SO EXISTENCE— AND EVERYTHING IT, MUST BE DESTROYED.”

————————————————————————

WAR JOURNAL: CAPTAIN MIA GAN-AN’WAR RECORDING…
Kyle and Michael have been hard at work on the ‘Slip Drive’
modifications for roughly eight hours. Michael says it would be
impossible to have it working in a day. But I’ve known him for
almost ten years, and his technical expertise seems to rival the
Borg. If anyone can get our system up and ready for war in time,
he can.

My gut feeling was that Kyle’s appearance on the Helix a week ago
was a gift from the Prophets in our war. It looks like I was
right. The technical information he brought from his reality is
the missing piece of the puzzle. He says that in his reality,
we’re the best of friends. I believe him. He’s become our
inspiration. A glimpse of what we could’ve been–maybe what we will
become.

There’s no doubt that this will be my last journal entry. I’m
taking the Helix into battle one last time. All I ask of her is to
help me pull out a miracle like she’s done so may times for me
before–like she’s done for Alex. I will make sure that in the
future, no one will forget the name…. HELIX. END TRANSMITTION

Mia and Chapel entered the large main cargo bay which had been converted
into the Science / Engineering wing.

Lieutenant Michael Briggs saw them enter and quickly jogged over to their
side.

“How are we doing?” Chapel said with a raised eyebrow.

Michael took a deep breath. “Well, Kyle’s tricorder held all the missing
pieces we needed. Our simulations of the Slip Drive prototype have had a
89.2% success rate. And believe me, in the short time we’ve had, that’s
bordering on a miracle!”

“How long will it take to upgrade the rest of the fleet?” Mia asked.

“Upgrade the fleet?” Briggs laughed. “Lady, we haven’t even run real space
tests yet. It’ll take at least….”

Chapel butted in. “Lieutenant, listen to me. We don’t have time for more
test. In less than a day, the Borg are gonna be here.”

“By the Prophets…”

“Worst case scenario, how long will it take to equip the other ships?”

Briggs took a few seconds to think and then calculated the time on his
tricorder. “It’s not gonna happen, Sir. Nearly all of the ships have massive
damage across the board. There simply isn’t enough power to generate the
vortex.….:”

“I need the short version, Lieutenant!” Chapel said impatient.

“The only way we’re gonna be able to transport the entire fleet is two
create a giant vortex for all the ships to pass through. The only ship with
enough juice to do it is the Praxis. The bad news is that the Slip Drive
will burn out every available system, except Impulse and life support. And
once the Slip Drive activates, the system will burn itself out. This is
gonna be a one-way trip.”

Chapel turned a way and rubbed his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. There won’t be
anything to come back to. You have ten hours to make the modifications.”

Briggs nodded and quickly returned to his testing.

Chapel then turned to Mia. “We’ll use the Praxis as the vortex-channeling
vessel, which I’ll be commanding. You’re gonna be acting Fleet Commander
until we manage to get the Praxis back into the fight.” He started to walk
back toward the turbo lift. “I’ll write up the battle plan and I want you to
forward it to our people in the field. If we don’t make it back alive, I
want the rest of the resistance to continue the fight.”

————————————————————————

Kyle K’nar gazed out the large hanger window at the endless number of ships
which were rendezvousing outside.

“A bar of Latnium for your thoughts.” Mia said as she approached from behind
to stand at his side. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

He smiled at her. “Not really. I’m just thinking about how odd this whole
‘alternative universe’ thing is.”

“What do you mean?”

“This whole thing…. It’s different, but it’s still the same. Take your
resistance fleet, for instance.” He pointed at the ships. “That ship’s an
Oberth Class starship. The one to the left is and Akira Class. Their mostly
Starfleet configurations.” He shook his head. “Sabre, Galaxy, Excelsior,
there’s even sprinkles of Klingon and Cardassian ships. I don’t get it.”

Mia grinned. “I don’t know what that’s suppose to mean, big guy. They use to
all look exactly the same. But as time went on, we had to improvise with
modifications and repairs. There’s never been any type of ‘Class’ system
with our fleet.”

“That’s the whole point.” His wiped is sweaty face. “It’s as if elements and
people were transplanted from my universe and place in this one. They were
just given different roles–as if this is some type of giant holo-program or
something.”

“Holo what?”

At that point, Kyle’s attention was drawn to a small ship which seemed to
circle around from the other side of the station and settle in front of the
window. As it turn it’s nose toward the window, he saw the name engraved to
hull… HELIX. But it wasn’t the Helix he know. The configuration was similar,
but the hull was more complex than he remembered. The old ship seemed simple
and inconspicuous. This ship was more menacing, truly worthy of it’s name.
Why would his ship be one of the only which seemed to be not from his
universe?

He started to stroll back into the hanger with Mia still beside him. “It
begs the question: Was this some mistake on the part of Axis, or is this
Alex’s way to giving me a way to stop this madness.” He turned to her with a
sigh. “Deep down, somewhere in Axis, Alex may still be conscious. If we can
find a way to get to him, I may be able to convince him to stop.”

Mia smiled. “Commander, that’s wishful thinking.”

Kyle smiled back. “Captain, from what I’ve seen so far, that’s all any of us
have.”

————————————————————————

Dimitri and the bridge crew of the U.S.S. Atlantis stared at the view screen
and held their breath. The trio of Borg cubes loomed and silence, shadowing
the cloaked starship from the nearby sun. They tried to slowly maneuver away
from the incoming cubes by staying cloaked and venturing away at warp 1. But
each time, the Borg would change their course to match the Atlantis.

Krag suggested that the damage warp nacelles were venting plasma which
couldn’t be masked by the cloak. His recommendation was to drop out of warp
and play possum. All now essential systems were shut down to lower their
power signature and push more energy to the cloak. As Krag stared at the
cube, which even made him tremble, he realized that his recommendation may
have been a mistake.

” Antonia, what are they up to?” Dimitri asked.

The Ensign pilot checked the sensors. “They’re running modified anti-proton
scans on the area.”

“Have they reached us?”

“Yes Sir. They’ve scanned our area twice.”

Dimitri turned to Krag. “Are we set?”

The Nausican nodded. “The contingencies are in place, though untested. I
hope we aren’t forced the implement them.”

“That makes two of…”

Suddenly, the ship was struck with a large jolt.

Dimitri staggered back to his seat. “What the hell happened?”

Lieutenant Casey responded. “We been caught in a tractor beam by one of the
cubes! The other two and approaching!”

It’s now or never.” Dimitri signaled the Krag. “Do your magic.”

Krag initiated his countermeasures with lightning quickness. “Protocol One!”

He began to rotate the shield harmonics to random settings. At the same
time, four quantum torpedo were launched at the cube tractor beam source.
But the cube was quicker. It caught each torpedo with a disrupter shot
before they got near.

Dimtri knew their first attempt would fail. “Contingency number two, Mr.
Krag.”

Krag tapped his combadge. “Zam! I need the power, now!”

“Everything looks fine.” Chief Engineer Poldegin replied. “Go for it.”

“Initiating Phase-cloak!”

A fine red mist washed over the U.S.S. Atlantis. At that moment, the ships
appearance became transparent and the Borg’s tractor beam passed directly
through the ship.

“The cloak is holding! The ship is free!” Krag yelled.

“Antonia, get us out of here.” Commander Shelly order.

The Atlantis turned a full 180 degrees; and started to pull away when the
Borg’s green tractor beam turned a deep blue and homed in the cloaked ship.

“What’s happening?” Shelly asked.

Krag slammed his fists on the console. “They’ve managed to counter-act the
phase! We’re caught again! Firing all weapons!!”

The melee of torpedoes and phaser beams sprang for the Atlantis and washed
over the Borg cube with no effect. The other remaining cubes quickly
surrounded the starship and applied their own tractor beams.

A series of drones suddenly appeared on the bridge. One of them raised it’s
hands for Dimitri.

The Commodore reached for his hand phaser, but Krag was already in motion.
He fired two shots simultaneously which caught the drone in the face and
chest. It fell to the floor just as Krag turned and fired at the other two
behind him. To his dismay, they had adapted to the frequencies quickly. He
lunged for one, but was caught in the face with a swinging forearm.

He fell to the floor unconscious.

Everyone else rose to their feet to engage the enemy, when Dimitri took
charge. “Everyone, hold your positions!”

While the bridge crew responded to his order, he stood and slowly approached
the nearest drone, who he could tell use to be a female Klingon. The
Commodore waved his arms, urging his crew to back away from the enemy.

“My name is Commodore Dimitri Andreyevich. We will not give up our ship.
I’ve set a silent auto-destruct sequence. In five minutes, this ship will be
destroyed.”

The drone slowly approached him and then spoke. “WE ARE THE BORG. YOU WILL
CEASE ALL STRUGGLES AGAINST US AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED.” It looked down at
the unconscious Nausican and then slowly, back up at the Commodore.
“RESISTENCE IS FUTILE.”

————————————————————————

WAR JOURNAL: CHIEF COMMANDER CHAPEL RECORDING…
With the help of Captain Gan’An-War, we have mobilized the fleet
and are ready to get underway. Although we are greatly behind
schedule, I’m betting we will make the jump to the Slip Stream
before the Borg reach us. May the Prophets guide our mission to
victory. END TRANSMITTION

“Captain on the bridge!” First Officer Cole yelled as Chapel entered the
control room of the battleship Praxis.

“As you were.” He responded heading for his commander chair. “What’s our
status, Mr. Cole?”

“We’ve received battle confirmation from 251 ships. All ships on standby.”

“Good. Patch me through to the Helix.”

In a few seconds, Mia face appeared in the viewscreen. “We’re ready on this
end, Sir.” She called out.

“Good.” Chapel stood and walked to the screen. Once we execute the jump, you
are to take temporary command of the fleet. If Briggs was correct, the
Praxis should be in bad shape by the time the fun begins.”

“Understood. I recommend you drop out of the stream prematurely. Try and get
yourself together and then join the party.”

“You read my mind, Captain.” He said with a smile.

Suddenly , the Science Station started to go crazy. Cole quickly made his
way the console to investigate. “Sir, the nebula parameter sensors have
picked up a massive transwarp signature.” His voice faltered. “It’s the
Borg.”

“Red Alert!”

————————————————————————

Aboard the Helix, Kyle’s sensors registered the same signature.

“Captain, we’ve got company!” he called out.

Mia turned to her first officer. “Cy, get the fleet moving, maximum impulse!
Tell Briggs and Anderson to drop their attack wings to the back for….”

“I got the Borg fleet on visual!” Kyle said.

Onscreen, they looked like a swarm of spherical locusts. The giant wave of
silver orbs descended on the abandoned Resistance headquarters. It’s
auto-defensive systems automatically activated and unleashed a melee of
photon torpedoes and phaser file on the swarm. But the small orbs weaved and
bobbed thought the supressing fire, totally engulfing the station one wave
of a thousand disrupter beams. The station was destroyed in a matter of
seconds.

And that’s when Mia saw the giant swarm change course and close in on the
slow Resistance fleet.

“Kyle, what’s their time to intercept?”

The tactical officer replied. “One minute, fifteen seconds.”

“And our time to the vortex?”

He slammed his on the console. “Two minutes, thirteen seconds. We’re not
gonna make it.”

“Like hell…” Mia replied. She accessed the communications control on her
armchair. “Captain. Gan’AnWar to Briggs.”

Chief Engineer Michael Briggs appeared on the viewscreen. “Briggs here.”

“You see them coming?”

“Yes ma’am. What are your orders.”

“You’re gonna assume command of the fleet. I’m pulling the Helix out to
engage them.”

“One ship against that swarm. You won’t last a minute in there!”

“True, but all the fleet needs is a few seconds.”

Briggs shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, Mia. You’re part of the
battle specs, and this mission is too important. Anderson and I are the
‘Cover-Wings’. We’re pulling out of the fleet and engaging the Borg. It’s
the only way…”

Before Mia could answer, the viewscreen’s aft-view showed twenty starship
blossom out from the fleet and reverse course.

“Briggs to son-of-a…” she wanted to go after him, but she realized that he
was right. There was no time for saving friends from danger–not anymore. All
that mattered the fight ahead. They were all gonna die soon enough. The only
question was what would be left after they were gone? Their sacrifice had to
give the human race another chance at freedom.

“Kyle…” she said in a stern, commanding voice. “Move us alongside the
Praxis. And when she drops out of the stream, move us to front position.”

She watched the aft-view and the twenty ships she had let go totally overran
by the Borg. The small orbs sliced through the Resistance attack wings in a
matter of seconds. But it was enough to stall them.

The huge battle barge known as the Praxis slowed to halt. It’s four warp
nacelles dimmed and the ship began to shake violently. Suddenly a massive
bubble of energy expanded outward until the entire fleet of 200+ ships were
engulf. And just as the small Borg cubes entered weapons range and began to
fire feverishly, the bubble flashed the bright bluish luminance and then
disappeared.

————————————————————————

ACT III: CRY HAVOK…

Borg-Prime was nestled in the Milky Way– in a system, which should have been
called Sector 001. Normally there would be so may Borg crafts stationed
there, it would be almost impossible to maneuver through. But this time, it
was different. A significant amount of Axis’ defenses were diverted to
engaging the unknown marauders from the Delta Quadrant. If there was any
chance in a direct assault, the resistance had to strike now.

Just outside of the array’s defenses, an enormous temporal gate opened. From
within, an onslaught of quantum torpedoes emerged and rained down on
anything in the immediate area. They were programmed to seek out any Borg
signatures in the area and lock on. Nearly all the projectiles found theirs
marks just as over two hundred Resistance ship came through the gate. They
quickly scattered like a swarm and began to attack the smaller, quicker Borg
spheres.

Within the chaos flying back and forth, a badly under-powered Helix slipped
past the defending Borg spheres and headed for the defense platform.

————————————————————————

Deep within the main section of the defense platform, three transporter
signatures materialized along a narrow catwalk. Mia, Kyle and Cy stood
facing opposite directions–their phasers ready. The inside was similar to
all other Borg facilities, Mia thought to herself. And she would know, being
one of the few people to escape their clutches numerous times.

“Tell me again why this was a good idea?” Cy said staring at the hundreds of
Borg drones in their alcoves.

“I never said it was.” Mia replied turning to Kyle.

“Oh. My mistake. Where are we?”

The Trill warrior analyzed his tricorder readings. “We’re on level 231,
sub-junction 11: Defensive Systems.” He grinned. “Jackpot.”

“We haven’t accomplished the mission yet. Which way now?”

Kyle showed her the data. “We take the door there. Twenty kilometers west,
six hundred kilometers north.”

They cautiously followed Kyle, keeping a careful eye on the endless line of
drones in their alcoves. They knew if they didn’t appear to be a threat,
they should make it to their destination without any problems. Kyle’s mind
went back to that day he and Alex infiltrated the Borg artifact–the day Alex
was reborn as Axis. The similarities between that day and the current
situation were too strange to be a coincidence.

Within a few minutes, they reached a large sliding door.

“Defense Operations is behind this door.” Kyle said.

“Cy, do your thing.” Mia ordered.

The cyclops quickly opened his backpack and pulled out a host of tools.
“I’ve never done this with Borg technology so I’d advise everyone to stand
back.” He said igniting a small phaser torch and slowly cutting around the
access panel.

Mia leaned over her first officer’s shoulder and watched his handy-work.
“We’re already running behind. Can’t you do that any faster?”

“Stop backseat hacking, woman! You know I hate it when you….”

Before Cy could finish his ranting, he heard the sound of Kyle’s phaser
rifle powering up. He and Mia stood and turned to see what Kyle had notice.
Far in the distance, one of the drones had detached itself from its alcove
and now silently stood staring at them. And then two more detached
themselves, follow my three more, and then four more….

“So much for making ‘nice-nice’!” Kyle said as he opened fire on the
activated drones. Fortunately, he set his rifle to a wide dispersal pattern
which caught the entire group in two to three shots. But as the drones fell
the floor, a swarm of others became active.

“Cy!” Mia yelled grabbing her own rifle.

“Give me some time, people!” he replied as he went back to work on door.

Mia and Kyle kept the phaser fire furious on the approaching drones. But for
every drone they killed, three more were activated.

“Got it!” Cy said and the large door slip open. The three of them entered
the room, keeping the phaser fire heavy on the approaching Borg. Cy quickly
accessed the inside control panel and closed the door shut.

“Step away.” Mia said as she fired at the control panel. The intense phaser
instantly fused the panel shut. “That ought to hold them long….” She turned
around to see what the others where in awe of. “…enough.”

The Defense Operations room was massive. It was spherical in construction.
The walls were an endless array of control paneling which stretched for
three levels up. In ten key areas, Borg ‘Sentry’ drones were regenerating in
specialized alcoves.

All three resistance fighters raised their phasers.

“You think they know we’re here?” Mia asked Kyle.

“I think they’re probably assigned to regulating the defense platform.
Hopefully if we do this quickly, they may not bother us.”

Cy used his tricorder to scan the control panels until he found what he was
looking for. “I found the access panel. I’ll see if I can plant the virus.”
As his tricorder began to upload the data, he didn’t see the dark creature
materialize from the shadows.

Mia turned to see him, but wasn’t fast enough to alert her first officer.
She watched as the Borg raised some type of weapon and drove it into first
officer’s back. Cy cried to pain as his hands started to shake violently and
the tricorder dropped to the floor. In a matter seconds, the assault was
over. Cy’s lifeless body fell to the floor–his one giant eye totally
blood-shot.

“No!!!” Mia screamed as she and Kyle raised their phaser rifles to fire. But
nothing happened.

“YOUR WEAPONS HAVE BEEN NUTRALIZED–AS HAVE YOUR EQUIPMENT” the being spoke
as he walked into the light.

Kyle gasped. “Axis. I knew this was too easy.”

Mia’s eyes swelled with tears. “I’m gonna kill you, you bastard!” she lunged
for him, but Kyle promptly subdued her.

Axis walked closer. “RESISTENCE IS FUTILE, MY LOST CHILDREN. AND THERE IS NO
HOPE FOR ESCAPE. I AM HERE TO LIBERATE YOU FROM THE SHACKLES OF YOUR
HUMANITY.”

“You know Kyle, his speeches are cheesier than yours.” Mia said trying to
calm down.

Kyle smiled in defiance. “Who do you think taught me?” He pulled Mia to the
side and walked toward Axis. “Is this the part of the story when we die a
horrible death?”

“NORMALLY IT WOULD BE…” Axis replied as he saw Mia trying to wield her
phaser rifle as a club. With a simple thought, he willed the nine sleeping
‘Sentry’ drones to awaken. Mia stopped in mid swing as three of the revived
drones converged on her and snatched away the rifle. “…BUT THIS IS NOT A
NORMAL SITUATION. IT IS A CELEBRATION. I WILL FINALLY HAVE MY TWO FRIENDS TO
STAND AT MY SIDE.”

Kyle caught his breath. “You’re gonna assimilate us?”

“THE Axis EXPERIMENT HAS ELEVATED ME TO A GOD. AND I SHOULD NOT HAVE TO RULE
ALONE.” With a thought, he willed the large blast shield to open, exposing
the gigantic window. “WHEN I CREATED THIS UNIVERSE, I WAS PUZZLED BY THE
FACT THAT BIOLOGICAL SPECIES STILL EXISTED. I SPEND AN ETERNITY TRYING TO
FIGURE OUT WHAT I DID WRONG. I NOW REALIZE THAT IT MUST BE YOU.” His
cybernetic face formed a grin. “THE BEING, ALEX GARRETT DID NOT WANT TO
ASCEND ALONE. THE UNIVERSE WOULD NOT BE PERFECT WITHOUT COMPANIONSHIP. YOU
TWO WILL BE ASSIMILATED RULE BY MY SIDE. JUST LIKE IT WAS IN TEAM HELIX.”

Kyle could hear Mia struggling with the Borg behind him, he had to focus on
Axis. He had to see if there was anything left of Alex Garrett inside that
mesh of cybernetic implants. “What about the other species? What about the
people outside as we speak, fighting for there very lives?”

“OTHER SPECIES ARE IRRELEVENT. THEY WILL NOT EXIST IN THE NEW BORG ORDER.”

“You were wrong before. How do you know now?”

“I HAVE RECALCULATED THE EXPERIMENT PARAMETERS. MY ORIGINAL EQUATION WAS
DESIGNED TO RECREATE THE UNIVERSE. IT WAS A HUMAN ERROR–REMNANCE OF MY
BIOLOGICAL COUNTERPART. BUT NOW I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY DELETED THE GARRETT
PERSONA FROM MY PROGRAMMING.” He approached Mia, who was being restrained.
“I NOW UNDERSTAND THAT AS LONG AS THERE IS A UNIVERSE, LIFE WILL, SOMEHOW
FIND A WAY TO EVOLVE. SO THERE IS ONLY ONE LOGICAL ALTERNATIVE…”

Kyle figured it out. “By the prophets, you’re gonna destroy everything!
You’re gonna completely erase the universe!”

“WE WILL EXIST AS PURE CONSCIOUSNESS. WE WILL ASSIMILATE LIFE ITSELF. WE
WILL BE TRULY…. BORG.”

“Like hell I will!” Mia screamed in defiance and struggling violently. “I’d
rather die than become one of you!”

“She’s right.” Kyle responded. “If you’re gonna destroy the others, then
you’ll have to destroy us with them.” With the grace of the skilled warrior
generations old, Kyle swiped one of the phase rifles from the floor and
swung it across the back of Axis’ head. The puny weapon shattered on
contact.

Quickly, one of the free drones lunged to Kyle from his side. The Trill
warrior quickly side-stepped him and send an elbow to the base of it’s neck.
The drone fell on his face.

Just as Kyle was about to finish the job, Axis went after him with lightning
quickness. His iron grip caught Kyle by the neck like a tritanium vice. And
in that instant, the battle was over. Kyle squirmed as Axis lifted him off
the ground.

“DEFIANCE IS IRRELEVANT. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO BECOME. ONLY
WHEN YOU ARE ONE WITH THE BORG, WILL YOU TRULY PHATHOM MY INCREDIBLE
VISION.” The creature raised it’s other hand, and two hallow assimilation
tubes sprang from his top wrist. “UNFORTUNATELY, IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT YOU
WANT…” Slowly, he started to bring the tubes toward Kyle’s neck. “…FOR THE
WILL OF Axis IS ABSOLUTE!”

Kyle saw the tubes growing closer, but the grip around his neck was crushing
his windpipe. The lack of oxygen was causing him to blackout.

Mia struggled even more forcefully trying to save her friend, even though
she knew it was useless. “I’m sorry..” she said with a tearful farewell as
she looked at Cy’s dead body and then Kyle’s approaching doom. But just when
her body went limp in the Borg’s grasp, the one which held her right arm let
go. As she looked up at the drone, it turned to her and smiled.

And as it opened it’s hand to reveal a small metallic orb, it spoke in a
familiar voice. “Close your eyes.” On instinct, Mia knew to comply. The
drone tossed the orb at Axis, who’s assimilation tubes had just been
inserted into Kyle’s neck. The orb opened itself in midair and release an
intense energy pulse. It washed over the Borg drones like a fierce tidal
wave, causing them the release Mia and fall backwards from the force. When
it hit Axis, his body began to shake uncontrollably. He dropped Kyle and
tried to walk his self to the nearest alcove, but Mia was on him with
lightning quickness. The butt of her phaser rifle caught him in the back of
his neck, causing him to fall forward.

“RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!!!!!” he screamed out just before his body shattered
as it hit the floor.

Kyle gasped for air as he pulled his self up on the walk and surveyed area.
All the Borg except one had been leveled by the energy pulse.

Mia smiled. “I killed him. I killed the son-of-a-bitch!” she screamed out.

“Not quite.” The remaining drone spoke while accessing a nearby control
panel. “Axis exists within the collective. You just destroyed one of the his
many vessels.” He played with a control panel. “I’m deactivating the
dampening fields. Your tricorders and weapons are now active.” Then he
quickly made his way over the staggering Kyle. He checked the Trill’s neck.
“Don’t worry. What little nano-probes that made it into you were destroyed
by the energy pulse. The nausea will pass in a minute or so.”

Mia walked to him and stared at his face. It took a few seconds, but she
finally figured out who her hero really was. “By the Prophets, is that you
Eric?!”

He smiled making his way back to the control panel. “Fortunately yes…
somewhere under all this Borg junk.” He turned to look at her. “But on a
better note, your looking as gorgeous as ever.”

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked, still shocked at his appearance.

“I’m the latest in interstellar camouflage, thanks to some unexpected
allies. This was the only way I could get close enough to Axis without being
detected.” He looked at her. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything about Cy. I
had to wait until Axis spilled his guts about his experiment.”

She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “War is hell. Cy would’ve
understood.”

Kyle slowly approached them. “I’m sorry to kill this touching moment, but
don’t we have a job to do?”

Eric Beckett continued his work with the controls. “The overload sequence Cy
uploaded has been initiated, but it looks like the overload sequence won’t
knock out the communications array as predicted. Once the defense shield
goes down, you’re gonna have to destroy this thing the old fashion way.”

“No problem.” Kyle said as he patted Eric on the back. “Just give us the
pitch, and we’ll knock it out of the park.”

The Borg Slayer nodded. “O.K. You guys better beam out ASAP.”

“What about you?” Mia asked.

“I’m taken care of! As soon as I copy a few things for myself, I’ll be out
of here. Now go!”

Mia smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You know your cute when
you’re excited… and Borg.”

“Shut up and go.” He said with a grin. And as she and Kyle transported back
to the Helix, Eric looked out the large window and watched as one of the
strange Borg Sphere slowly approached the defense platform.

“Score one for the good guys.”

————————————————————————

The emergency transport beamed Kyle and Mia onto the empty bridge of the
Helix. Kyle quickly took the navigational position while Mia took the
tactical position.

“Decloak and raise shields! I want weapons at full power!”

Kyle swung the ship around and locked onto several small scout spheres. Mia
unleashed and horde of quantum torpedoes which washed over he Borg scouts
and totally destroyed them

“I’m getting readings from the Defense Platform.” Kyle shouted. “I’m
registering power overloads across the board!”

In a blaze of white flames, the defense platform exploded. A wave of hot
white energy washed over the array’s defense shield causing it to deactivate
and leave the Communication Hub totally vulnerable.

“This is Mia to the fleet!” she sent out a transmission. “The defense
barrier’s down, but the array is still operational. I want all ships to
regroup and attack the array until there’s nothing left floating!”

————————————————————————

By this time, over 67% of the resistance fleet have been destroyed. The
system was littered with floating debris so thick, it resembled an asteroid
field. Little by little, the humanoid-manned starships regrouped and
streaked for the Borg communications array with their weapons blasting. The
Borg armada pursued closely, quickly picking off as many ship as they could.

————————————————————————

Mia fired the Helix’s full battery of weapons at the massive array, while
Kyle tried his best to dodge Borg weapons fire. But the assault was great.
The little ship was knocked crazy with each blast.

“We just lost aft shields!” Kyle called out. “The left nacelle took a direct
hit! The controls are too sluggish for evasive maneuvers.”

“Use the debris for cover and get us in position to attack the exposed areas
of the array! The targeting systems just went offline so I switching to
manual!”

Suddenly, a disrupter beam struck a nearby piece of debris and shattered it
into three pieces. One of the fragments slammed into the Helix’s left
nacelle, tearing it completely off. The small battleship toppled helplessly
out of control.

On the bridge both Mia and Kyle were thrown from their positions and slammed
into the ceiling. Kyle heard a couple of his ribs nap from the impact as he
slammed head-first back onto the floor. Mia fell backwards onto the
guard-rail and screamed in pain. But she knew she had to block out the pain.
She pulled herself back to her feet and stumbled back to the tactical
station.

Holding his ribs, Kyle staggered back to the navigator’s position an
assessed the damage. “We’ve lost the left nacelle! Power has failed
ship-wide! Sensors are online, but badly damaged. Damnit! The warp core
damaged! A breech is imminent!”

Mia stumbled to his position. “Can you get us to ramming speed?”

“I think I can!”

“Good. Then radio the fleet and tell somebody we need an emergency beam-out
for two…”

“I can’t do it! Communications are offline!” he looked up at her. “The ship
is thrashed!”

“Then that’s it. We’ve lost…”

Suddenly, the partial sensors online. Kyle’s heart stopped. “I’m reading
three transwarp signatures materializing just inside of sensor range.” He
looked up at her. “More Borg…”

Their damaged viewscreen switched to a aft view in time to see three Borg
Cubes appear on the battle field.

“They’ve got reinforcements!” Mia screamed. “We’re dead!”

————————————————————————

The three cubes suddenly split away from each other–the left and right ships
engaging the battle, and middle one heading right for the array. The
remaining resistance ships saw the cube enter the scene. It was apparent
they were outgunned. But they had to try. They had to give the Helix enough
time to finish off the array.

The small ships directed their weapons fire on one of the approaching cube.
Dozens of phaser beams and torpedoes struck the oncoming cube with great
impact. But it was too little, too late. The plowed its way through the
resistance defense line…

…and directly into one of the large Borg spheres.

The collision caused a massive explosion which through all the smaller ships
ship out of the control. The firestorm ceased, there was nothing left of any
ship in the immediate area.

————————————————————————

Kyle was shocked. “That ship! That’s a Borg cube. ”

Mia looked at him puzzled. “But the Borg have always built spherical
devices.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” The Trill warrior checked the sensors
thoroughly. “The Cube ships are from my universe. What the hell is going
on!?”

That’s when he saw the cube coming directly for the Helix.

“Their on a collision course with us!?” Mia shouted.

“No! Their on a collision course with the array!”

————————————————————————

The Borg Cube zipped past the Helix causing the small ship to be caught in a
mass swirl-spin. Instantly, small Borg spheres converged on the approaching
cube. They collided with it in an attempt to disable it’s course. Each
sphere cause a massive firestorm on the cube’s hull, but it did not waiver
in it’s course. It came in contact with the array’s most exposed wound and
shattered across it like fine wine glass. Tiny explosion began to appear
along the it’s surface, which created a burning inferno.

————————————————————————

“What the hell just happened?” Mia yelled. “What the hell is going on?”

Kyle checked the sensors. “That collision almost did the trick! The array’s
power cells have been destroyed. It’s currently running on backup power!”

“Then let’s finish the….”

Before she could finish her sentence. Four transporter signatures suddenly
appeared on the bridge in the form of a Borg attack squad. They quickly
split into two teams and went after Kyle and Mia.

“Keep them away from the controls!” Mia said as she pulled her hand phaser
and fired at the approaching enemy. The first drone was hit, but the other
quickly adapted. She quickly tossed the phaser at its face. As it swatted
the gun out of its way, Mia quickly went to work. A martial arts kick the
chest cause it to stagger back, and she quickly followed up with a leg
sweep. The drone fell on it’s back. Mia then made her way to the tactical
console. She quickly ran her fingers along the controls, but didn’t see the
drone quickly get to it’s feet. It sent a back-handed slap to the side of
her face, knocking her out of the way. But not before she accomplished her
task.

‘WARNING, PROTOMATTER CONTAINMENT FIELDS 1 THROUGH 17 HAVE BEEN
DEACTIVATED.’ The computer sounded. ‘PROTOMATTER INSTABILITY RATIO AT 72%’

At first Kyle was startled by what he heard, but after the met eyes across
the room, he knew exactly what she was thinking. The Helix was pretty much
history. There was no way they, as well as the fleet were gonna escape
alive. The only option was to finish to mission– even if it meant suicide.

Kyle saw the remaining two drones converging on him. Quickly, he manned the
controls and pitched the ship hard to the left. The drones stumbled
backwards long enough for Kyle to roughly point the Helix in the right
direction.

‘ WARNING. COLLISION WITH BORG OBSTICLE IN 30 SECONDS’

————————————————————————

A swarm of small Borg sphere descended on the Helix like a swarm of locusts.
The constant weapons fire began to tear the ship apart. Within a matter of
seconds, the ship was turned into a spiraling fireball.

————————————————————————

One of the Borg drones made to the tactical station and dove it’s right arm
into the console.

“No!” Mia screamed trying to get to her feet. It was apparent the drone was
trying to re-enable the Protomatter containment fields. Without them, the
ship would collide with the array and totally obliterate it. Protomatter was
one of the most unstable and volatile substances ever discovered. It was her
final solution. The array would be eliminated by any means necessary.

Kyle saw what was happening and tried to assist his Captain, but one of the
fallen drones grabbed him by his ankle. He fell face forward in time to see
Mia lunge for her console.

‘ WARNING. COLLISION WITH BORG OBSTICLE IN 20 SECONDS’

Kyle kicked away his captor and crawled to the wall to pull himself up. Mia
had reached the drone at the console an jumped on his back like a feral
animal. He tried to help, but another turbulent jolt sent him to the floor
again.

‘ WARNING. COLLISION WITH BORG OBSTICLE IN 15 SECONDS’

With her legs firmly wrapped around the drone from behind, Mia grabbed its
head and gave it a wrenching twist, breaking it’s neck. They both fell to
the floor just as Kyle made it to his feet.

‘ WARNING. COLLISION WITH BORG OBSTICLE IN 10 SECONDS’

As she pulled herself up on the console, she looked at the statically
viewscreen which showed their collision approach with the array.

She then looked at Kyle and smiled. “It’s been a pleasure, Commander”

‘7 SECONDS’

“Likewise…”

‘6 SECONDS’

Mia stood up, but didn’t see the final living drone coming toward her from
behind.

‘5 SECONDS’

“Look out!” Kyle cried and started to lunge toward her. But just as he
started to move, he felt a transporter signature wash over his body.

‘4 SECONDS’

“No!!! Not yet!!!!”

‘3’

Mia turned around in time to see the drone plunge some type of metallic
spear into her chest.

‘2’

She bent over backwards, being held up by the large talon.

‘1’

She looked at Kyle’s dematerializing body and smile at him one last time.

‘IMPACT…..”

————————————————————————

What was left of the Helix toppled into ‘what was left of’ the array.

The detonation what immense.

The Protomatter explosion chain reaction created a white hot plasma
explosion which expanded outward and engulf everything in the immediate
area. What was left of the Borg and resistance fleets scattered for their
lives as the explosion overtook them. The intense shockwave tossed them like
strong sea currents, causing massive collisions and ships simply being torn
apart. And in a matter of seconds, anything within the immediate area was
completely incinerated–all except a phase-cloaked Intrepid Class Starship,
which had merely been silhouetted by the intense heat.

————————————————————————

EPILOGUE: STILL NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

The last thing Kyle remembered was feeling the white heat as the Helix was
destroyed. Even though his body was in transport-limbo, he still felt the
pain. He watched as Mia and her murderer were incinerated by the intense
heat. It was only a fraction of a second and he knew she probably didn’t
feel any pain, but that image would live on in his memory for years to come.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a bed of some kind. The
blurry bright lights overhead came into focus, along with a face staring
down at him.

“Hello there.” The person said. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Where am I?” Kyle asked with a scratchy voice.

“Safe.” He replied. “I’m Dr. Zhivago, Chief Medical Officer of the U.S.S.
Atlantis.”

“Starship?” Kyle focused on the Doctor’s blue uniform. “You’re Starfleet?”

“Yes.” Zhivago used the medical tricorder the scan Kyle’s body. “You’re
gonna be fine. You suffered four cracked ribs and a mild concussion. But
I’ve stitched you up pretty fine.”

Kyle let out a long sigh. “My ship?”

“…destroyed by the explosion. I’m afraid you’re the only survivor.”

Kyle gathered his thoughts to try and retrace what had happened. How could
he be aboard a Starship when the Federation no longer existed? Was the
doctor speaking of the explosion, caused by the Borg artifact from Nuvellis?
Could all the occurances in the new reality have been a delusional dream?”

He closed his eyes to rest. “Doc, I had this crazy nightmare.”

“Well it can’t be far from the reality.” another spoke to him.

Kyle slowly opened his eyes, and even though his vision was still a bit
blurry, he could make out the shape of a figure standing over him–A figure
dressed in black with tubes and technology implanted within his body.

In a flash of panic, Kyle jumped off of the table. He crashed shoulder-first
onto the floor and crawled away until he was stopped by the medical bay’s
rear wall.

“Kyle, calm down.” He heard the Borg figure speak as he approached him.
“It’s me. It’s Eric Beckett, remember?”

Kyle’s vision slowly began to clear and the Borg Slayer’s familiar face came
into view. “Eric? By the Prophets, it wasn’t a dream.”

“Unfortunately no.” he heard a female voice say as the entrance door slid
close behind her and her entourage. As Kyle looked over at the approaching
group of people, he again jumped and tried to give himself some room between
them and himself. Standing a few yards away were two Starfleet Officers, a
Borg-a-fide Eric Beckett and the person he knew from stories Alex and Mia
use to tell him. The woman could be none other than the Borg Queen.

“Somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?!”

“Come down, Mr. K’Nar. I know this is a hell of a lot to take in right now,
but frankly we don’t have the time.” The female officer said. “My name is
Shelly Casey. I’m the first officer of the Atlantis. This is Lieutenant
David Gerard, and I’m sure you recognize the Borg Queen. Believe it or not,
we all on the same team now. We all want the same thing.”

“Why am I here? Why me and not Mia?”

David stepped forward. “The Atlantis isn’t in the best of shape right now.
We only had enough power to beam one of you through the cloak.”

Kyle found the strength to stand. “O.K. Then I’ll ask again. What the hell
is going on?!”

Eric walked toward him. “We’re gonna destroy the Universe, and it turns out
we’re gonna need your help to pull it off.”

Kyle looked past Eric to see the Borg Queen

Her cold jet-black eyes were glistening in the room’s luminance and she was
smiling from ear to ear. “UNFORTUNATELY FOR Axis, RESISTENCE–THIS TIME WILL
BE FAR FROM FUTILE.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Posted in Miscellaneous | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Homecoming

By michaelstrickland | Published July 12, 2004

Homecoming

 

“Risa, sir?”

Picard returned Riker’s mischievous smile with an enigmatic expression. “No, Number One, not this time. I’m going to visit an archeology dig.” He paused. “In the Salarian sector.”

Riker’s smile died on the vine. “The Salarian sector. Are you—” He hesitated, not wishing to press for more information than the captain was willing to give. “Never mind,” he continued in a much softer tone. “Enjoy your leave, sir.” With a slight bow, he turned and walked down the corridor. The captain watched him go for a moment, then shouldered his rucksack and entered the shuttlebay.

 

Six months had passed, yet his feelings were still as strong as if it had been yesterday. He hadn’t felt like this since his first trip home after enrolling in Starfleet Academy. A mixture of excitement, fear and self-doubt ate at him; it was impossible to relax. He tried to rub some of the tension out of his neck and wondered for the umpteenth time if this was a good idea. Maybe not. But how could he not go?

An alert klaxon warned him of a stray comet that had wandered into the shuttlecraft’s path half a light year ahead. He absent-mindedly adjusted his course to avoid it and leaned back in his chair. The four lights above the shuttlecraft’s command console brought back the recent horrors inflicted on him by Gul Madred. Yet even the torture he had undergone could not dull the pangs of homesickness he felt for a place he had never visited.

Tired yet anxious, he rubbed his eyes. He might as well stay awake for the remaining six hours of the voyage. There was no way he’d be able to sleep. “Computer. Tea, Earl Grey, hot.” Grabbing the cup from the shuttlecraft’s replicator, he stared at the streaming stars outside and pensively hummed an ancient melody.

 

Six hours later, the shuttlecraft dropped out of warp. Before him lay a system of six planets. At one-half impulse power, he piloted the spacecraft to the fourth one. It was a barren rock now, but it had once been a Class M planet before its sun had gone nova a thousand years ago. Easing into orbit around the planet, he looked down at the surface below. Although no oceans separated the continents from the seabed any longer, the ancient sea floor was bleached a lighter shade of brown than the continental shelves, thus differentiating the two. Picard focused on the northern continent, searching for a familiar mountain chain. He soon found it – and the newly built research outpost on its eastern edge.

His mission was an intensely private one, but the outpost’s discoveries had been the genesis for this trip in the first place. He’d have to put his best face forward and hope that the scientists respected his privacy.

Reluctantly, he hailed the outpost. “This is the Federation Shuttlecraft Onizuka, requesting clearance for one to beam down.”

The reply came almost immediately. They were expecting him. “Good afternoon, Captain,” replied a graying, bespectacled man who appeared on the shuttlecraft’s viewscreen.  “It is a wonderful privilege to have you visit our humble research camp. I’m uploading the transporter coordinates now. We look forward to hosting you during your visit.”

“Thank you. I will beam down shortly. Picard out.” He shook his head regretfully. So much for a private vacation. “Computer. Engage autopilot subroutine Alpha. Authorization Picard delta epsilon five.” Picking up his rucksack, he set the transporter to the assigned coordinates and beamed down to the surface.

 

“My name is Doctor Hiroki Shibuya. I am the director of this facility.”

Picard had been on the planet’s surface for only a few minutes, and had already been introduced to six researchers. He hoped that this person – the man he had spoken to in the shuttlecraft – was the last.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Doctor. I’m Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the—”

“—Starship Enterprise. Of course, we all know who you are. You’re the reason we’re all here.” The old man put his arm around Picard in a sort of fatherly familiarity and led him down the hallway. “I’d like to show you some of our latest findings. I believe that the quality of the artifacts we’ve recovered will convince the Federation to upgrade our living environment.” With his free arm, Doctor Shibuya made a contemptuous gesture at the outpost’s walls. “We’ve just about reached the maximum usefulness of our current facility.”

The research station was little more than a Level One exploratory habitat, mainly consisting of a crude metal framework covered with a plasteel shell. Picard noted the wear and tear on the walls. This habitat had been used before. A research team investigating the ruins of a long-extinct civilization deserved better accommodations than a used exploration tent.

“When I return to the Enterprise, I’ll make a recommendation to the Federation that they send a team of engineers to construct a permanent facility here,” promised Picard.

“Thank you, Captain,” he replied with a gleam in his eye, “but in my experience with the Federation, I’ll believe that when I see it.” The two entered a large open area with tables piled high with dust-covered artifacts. In one corner sat a lone researcher, working at one of the counters. “Here is our laboratory. This is where we study and catalogue our finds.”

Picard entered the room as if in a daze. His gaze wandered across the relics: pottery, tools, furniture fragments, even a few bones. He picked up a vase, cradled it as if it were a newborn. Moving on, he ran his hand around the rim of a dusty bowl, his mind flooding with memories of homemade soup. At the end of the table sat a pair of dilapidated shoes. Picard stopped and stared at these. Half-remembered admonishments that had faded with time leaped back up in living color as he reached out one tentative hand and touched the shoes. He steeled himself against his emotions and looked up at Doctor Shibuya. The archaeologist was in mid-sentence, oblivious to the storm raging in Picard’s heart.

“…the only one we have found so far. But as you can see, we’ve uncovered many other treasures.” Leading the captain over to the other end of the laboratory, he introduced him to a young Vulcan archaeologist who was cleaning a set of bones with a small brush. “This is one of our brightest young researchers, Daanik.”

Despite his emotionless tone, the young Vulcan addressed Picard with the same discomforting veneration as the others. “It is a great honor to meet you, sir. Your experiences with this culture have been the impetus for my career.”

The Vulcan’s work, rather than his words, captured Picard’s attention.  A macabre chill ran through him as he wondered who the bones had belonged to. “What do you plan to do with these remains after you’ve finished studying them?”

In lieu of answering, the Vulcan looked to Doctor Shibuya for guidance. “We will catalogue them and send them on to Starbase 51 along with the other artifacts, of course,” answered the older archaeologist.

Picard’s face flushed with sudden anger. “I strongly suggest you give them a proper burial here, on this planet. After what the people of this planet endured, their remains deserve more respect than being put on display in some museum.”

Doctor Shibuya was nonplussed. “I, um… I don’t…”

The captain instantly regretted his acrimonious words. He interrupted the man. “No, forgive me. It was a long trip, perhaps I should rest.”

The archaeologist, accustomed to dealing with antiquated objects rather than confrontational people, looked visibly relieved. “Certainly. I will show you to your quarters. This way, please.”

 

Picard awoke with a start, disoriented. A look around the spartan room did not help much. His quarters consisted of the bed in which he lay, a small nightstand, a desk with a computer terminal, a portable replicator unit, and a partition separating the sanitary facilities from the small room. Still, after years of being in Starfleet, he was used to such austerity. It was the unsettling dream he had awoken from which caused his disorientation. He laid back down and tried to grab its dissipating strands.

He is with her again, the two of them standing on the porch. He gives her the gift she has so long desired, and she approaches him, love in her eyes. But when he reaches out to touch her, but she fades away into nothingness. The brightly painted walls crumble into dusty gray and brown ruins. He moves to the entryway, to go back inside, but the door falls off its track when he presses the button. On the other side, there is only open space, the walls having long since fallen down. He looks around, lost, alone in the wasteland of his heart.

Picard sat up, rubbed his eyes. He had to get busy; this idleness was giving his imagination full rein. Standing, he requested a cup of tea from the replicator and went to the computer terminal. Accessing the outpost’s research findings from the last few months, he began reading about their discoveries and conclusions. With the data that he had provided to the Federation, the archaeologists had few problems finding the ruins. They found the community on their first away mission, and quickly set up the research outpost in the days following the discovery. Since then, not a single day had passed without an important discovery being made. Just two days before his arrival, a member of the team unearthed a small aerospace plant, where airplanes, rudimentary rockets and even a prototype spacecraft had apparently been under development.

Based on the remains discovered and catalogued to date, it appeared that the population of the town at the time of extinction had only been approximately five hundred. He rested his chin on his hand. It should have been closer to three thousand. The solar flares must have been much worse than he’d guessed near the end. The poor souls.

He rose from the desk and put on a pair of civilian coveralls. Pulling on his boots, he walked behind the partition and looked at himself in the mirror. It was time to see it with his own two eyes. Was he ready? He splashed some water in his face. As ready as he’d ever be.

 

The only person in the common room of the outpost when he walked in was Daanik. The Vulcan stood at the outpost’s command console, next to the transporter pad Picard had transported down to.

“Good morning, Captain,” Daanik greeted him. “I have just taken the liberty of checking the status of your shuttlecraft. Its autopilot subroutine is operating at a 99 percent efficiency.”

“That’s good to know,” Picard responded distractedly. “Thank you. Where are the others?”

“Some of them are at the site, but most are in the laboratory listening to Doctor Shibuya’s weekly lecture. Would you like to go listen in?”

“No, thank you. I think I’d like to go visit the site.”

Daanik came around the console and walked toward a far door. “Very well. Come this way. I’ll take you there.”

Picard gave Daanik a diplomatic smile. “If you would just point me in the right direction, I’m sure I can find it myself.”

“Doctor Shibuya has asked me to escort you until you become familiar with the hazards of this environment.” Daanik opened the door, motioned for Picard to enter. “This way, please.”

The captain hesitated. Objecting to a Vulcan who was following orders was as futile as asking the wind to stop blowing, and he didn’t think it was worth interrupting the Doctor’s lecture to press the issue. Reminding himself that he’d have other opportunities for private visits to the archaeological site, he followed Daanik through the door into the other room.

The two entered a staging area for excursions out onto the planet’s surface. Rows of environmental suits lined one wall, and racks full of archaeological tools covered the other. An airlock door at the far end of the room led to the exterior.

“As you know, the environmental suits are a necessity because of the deadly ultraviolet rays,” explained Daanik. “Direct exposure to sunlight would cause your skin to blister instantly, and permanent damage would occur after only a short exposure. What you may not know is that what’s left of the atmosphere is breathable. It’s very thin, however, akin to what you would experience on a mountaintop, so the suit supplements the oxygen in the air.”

Daanik helped Picard don his suit and checked the seals. Putting his own suit on, he led the way into the airlock. As they waited for the pressure to equalize, Picard stared out through the suit’s clear face shield. Environmental suits. Supplemental air tanks. It was a far cry from hats and skin protectant.

With a slight hiss, the exterior door slid open. The two men stepped out, and the captain got his first real look at the planet’s surface.

They stood on a barren plain, near an ancient, bone-dry riverbed. His gaze followed the course of the riverbed toward the foothills of the far-off mountain range, where he saw the crumbling ruins of what had once been a proud, thriving community. The once white, colorfully decorated buildings were now hard to distinguish from the surrounding dusty brown hillside. The first pangs of sadness hit him on seeing what had become of this beautiful community.

Daanik’s voice crackled over the suit-to-suit radio. “Captain, your suit has a built-in canteen of water. If you get thirsty, press the blue button on your sleeve, and a drinking tube will extend from the interior of your headpiece. The suit carries two liters, and will recycle water from your bodily secretions should you need more.”

The Vulcan’s matter-of-fact tone broke Picard’s reverie. He looked back at the trail, and the two of them began walking up the hill toward the remains of the town. Daanik continued to drone on about trivialities such as average surface temperature, soil analyses and various mundane features of the environmental suits.  He finally turned to a more philosophical topic. “As a Vulcan, what fascinates me most about this culture is the way in which they chose to be remembered. Logic would dictate preserving great works of art, literature and industry. But they abandoned those accomplishments in favor of a unique but illogical remembrance. And that is why I came here: to try to understand that choice.”

The Vulcan had apparently not interpreted Picard’s unresponsiveness as a desire for silence. By the time they had reached the village, the captain had had enough.

“Daanik, I look forward to debating the hypotheses your team has concluded about this culture, but for now, I’d like to proceed without distractions.”

“Of course, Captain. My apologies.”

“It’s quite alright,” replied Picard. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take the lead. I’d like to explore the ruins at my own pace.”

After but a moment, he realized that the Vulcan’s banal conversation had kept the full force of his feelings at bay. In the ensuing silence, he was able to take full notice of his surroundings, and the emotions came flooding in. In his mind’s eye, the crumbled walls of buildings became whole again, and ghosts of long-dead inhabitants walked the streets. That pile of rock on the corner – the bakery. Those two walls – the administrator’s office. That empty hole in the ground – a well that contained the planet’s most precious resource: water. He would write all this down at some point during his visit – it would be invaluable information for the archaeologists – but for now, it was his private homecoming.

He walked down the fractured avenues of the ghost town with a heavy heart. Every street, every alleyway, every alcove – he knew them all, he had last walked them only six months ago. But these shattered streets had been empty for a thousand years. He was silently grateful for the environmental suit and its bulky headpiece. It hid his watery eyes from Daanik.

Turning a corner, he saw a sight that caught his breath. His heart raced as he looked at the wall on the other side of the open square. To anyone else, it was just an ordinary wall, ready to fall down at any moment like all the others. But not to him. He slowly walked over to it, put his hand out and touched it gingerly. He had sat here before. He had sat here and witnessed the launching of a rocket that would bring him here – to the simple town of Ressik, on the planet of Kataan.

 

Picard sat on the bed in his quarters. He stared at the wall in front of him, but he saw Ressik again. He hadn’t anticipated his feelings to be this strong. He had thought that seeing in real life the town where he had spent a lifetime in his mind would be a novelty, a pilgrimage of sorts, but not an obsession. He had come here for closure, but instead he had reopened old wounds. The pain of loss he had felt six months ago had come back in all its power. Eline, Meribor, Batai… they were all phantoms in his head, they had been dead for a thousand years, but they were as real to him as his family back on Earth, Robert, Marie and René.

He reminded himself that they were implanted memories, that he had not lived through the experiences he remembered. But it was difficult to intellectualize the raw emotion of the remembrances. Starfleet psychologists had offered to erase the memories, but that would have violated the last wish of an entire civilization. No, he had to come to terms with the emotions, to learn to cherish the memories, not relive them.

Standing abruptly, he walked over to the computer terminal, hailed Doctor Shibuya. When the man’s visage appeared onscreen, Picard skipped the formalities. “Tell me, Doctor. Ressik had a cemetery. A kilometer or so outside of town. Has your team located it?”

The archaeologist nodded, implicitly understanding the motive behind the question. “Yes, Captain. We found it the first week we were here, when we surveyed the surrounding area. You’ll find the walls in ruins, but the headstones are mostly intact.”

“Thank you.  Picard out.”

He immediately walked over to the replicator. “Roses, red, one dozen,” he spoke aloud. The machine was too small for long stems, but the bouquet was beautiful nonetheless. He emptied his rucksack, carefully placed the flowers inside, slung it over his shoulder and walked out.

 

In his environmental suit once again, Picard faced the ruins of Ressik. Before him stood the remains of the porch from last night’s dream, the same porch from the vision he had experienced six months ago. The same porch where he and Eline had decided to start a family. Young Batai had taken his first steps on that porch, years after the elder Batai had taken his last steps there.

He sat down in the shade of a wall and reached up to his head. With a sharp hiss, he vented the air from his suit and removed his headpiece. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Beneath the acrid smell of the dead air, he detected a faint yet familiar scent. It was barely noticeable now, but it was there. He picked up a brick-sized chunk that had fallen from the wall behind him and held it up to his nose. Yes, there it was. The earthy smell of Kataanian dirt. Not a particularly strong nor fragrant smell, and not one that anyone else would notice. But, like the odor of an old pillow or a musty attic, it was a familiar scent: the smell of Home.

He could see Meribor again, digging in the far corner of the courtyard. While other girls were playing with their dolls or playing games, she was conducting research on the soil, trying to be just like her father. He should have stopped her. The knowledge that the science brought stole her innocence at an early age.

He put the headpiece of the suit back on, stood up and took a final look at the porch and courtyard. Putting the stone he had picked up into one of the suit’s pockets, he continued on through the village.

It was right where he remembered it. The last time (although certainly not the first time) he had been here, he had laid Eline to rest. It was the most difficult day of his life, even though it had never happened in his real life. He even knew the number of steps from the cemetery entrance to her grave; counting them had been an exercise he used to keep his emotions from spiraling out of control during her funeral. Counting them now under his breath, he soon found himself standing at the foot of her grave. It took him a moment to muster up enough courage to look up at the headstone. The letters were marred, but still legible: “ELINE. LOVING WIFE AND MOTHER.”

Picard fell to his knees. The counting had not helped this time. Tears rolled down his face. In some ways, he had lived more in those twenty-five minutes of pseudo-life than he had in his real life. He had experienced fatherhood, had become a respected member of his community, had basked in the love of a wonderful woman.  As a starship captain, he had certainly accomplished more, seen much of the galaxy, but his emotional ties were few. He had never married, had never raised a child. The sting of loss seized him again. He barely noticed the rush of air from the suit’s water reclamation system as it absorbed his tears.

Sighing as he composed himself a few moments later, he turned to look at the grave next to Eline’s. Underneath the encrusted grime on the headstone, a name was barely visible: “KAMIN.” The sight struck a deep chord. A new upwelling of conflicting emotions rose up within him.

Slowly standing, he looked down at Kamin’s grave with a dawning realization. He folded his arms across his chest. Of course. It was much clearer now. Through the subjective gauze of his emotions, he had always thought of Eline as his wife, of Kamin’s life as his own. He had thought of Kamin as a metaphoric construct, a narrative device built by the Kataanians to tell the story of their dying civilization. Thus, he had considered the lifetime of memories his own to keep, to cherish. It had never occurred to him that Kamin was an actual person who had lived and died in Ressik.

He stepped back a moment, looked at the two graves together. Suddenly, he felt a twinge of guilt for having such strong feelings for Eline. But then her last words to him came back in a rush, and it all made sense to him. If you remember what we were, and how we lived, then we will have found life again. Now we live in you. Tell them of us… my darling.

He was not Kamin, the simple ironweaver of Ressik. He was Kataan, the collective memory of an entire civilization. His love for Eline would not diminish. But millions of Kataanians had perished a thousand years ago, and they had chosen to be remembered in this way. Even young Daanik, with the clarity of an emotionless Vulcan, had seen that. He must honor their choice.

He crouched down, rubbed off some of the dirt. Underneath the name, the epitaph read: “A MAN AHEAD OF HIS TIME.” He couldn’t help but smile at the irony. Remembering the roses, he took them out of his rucksack. Pulling one of the flowers from the bouquet, he placed it at the head of Eline’s grave. “I will remember you always, my darling,” he said aloud. Moving over to Kamin’s grave, he set down the rest of the roses underneath his headstone. “And you, my friend. Thank you for sharing your life with me. You have given me a gift beyond measure. I will do my best to live up to it.”

He rose and looked behind him.  The sun had gone down behind the mountains.  Removing his headpiece and gloves, he reached into his rucksack again. Sitting down cross-legged in front of the two graves, he began playing a plaintive dirge on his Ressikan flute, a goodbye salute to his life on Kataan.

 

Five days later, Picard looked down on the planet from the cockpit of the shuttlecraft. He no longer felt the melancholy he had experienced when he first arrived. Instead, he was filled with a renewed sense of purpose. He understood at last what the Kataanians had given him. It wasn’t just a lifetime of experiences beamed into him from a deep space probe. It was an intimate knowledge of Kataanian life that no archaeological dig could ever discover.

He would monitor the outpost from time to time, and would make sure the Federation did not forget the work they did here. And one day, when the adventure of space exploration no longer held the same attraction for him, he would retire to Kataan, to the life of archaeology that Professor Galen had always wanted him to pursue. But not yet. There was still so much to discover. So many more Kataans that needed to be remembered. So many more Kamins whose lives should not go unrecorded.

 

About the Author: A graduate of USC’s School of Cinema-Television, Michael Strickland is an aspiring screenwriter currently making a living as a freelance writer. He can be reached at mike@strick.net.

Posted in The Next Generation | Tagged | Leave a comment

I, Q.

By jimthenriksen | Published July 12, 2004

“I, Q.”
by Jim T. Henriksen

Stardate 51535.8

“Lieutenant Reginald Barclay, you always mess up!” Geordi LaForge said with
an angry voice.

“Sorry, s-sir… I w-was on-only a-a-adjusting the i-input of
a-a-antimatter,” Barclay stuttered nervously.

“Adjusting? You have spoiled an experiment that have consumed most of my
off-duty time for a month!”

“S-s-sorry.”

“Get out of here before you blow up the whole ship, ‘adjusting’ the
antimatter-balance in the warp-core,” Geordi almost shouted.

Leaving Engineering, Reginald Barclay hard an ensign saying, “Yeah, get lost
broccoli!”

“Shut up, ensign,” Geordi commanded.

Barclay felt a little better, but he still felt down. He decided to drown
his shame in synthohol, maybe find someone to talk with.

Entering the turbolift, he saw counselor Deanna Troi was already in the
lift. “Where to?” she asked, “Ten-Forward?”

“I guess…”

“Continue,” she said to the turbolift. Deanna sensed something was bothering
Barclay, and that he needed someone to talk to. Who was better than a
counselor in talking?

“Want to talk about it?” she asked.

Barclay didn’t reply, just stood there, struggeling to keep back his tears.

“So, what do you want?” Guinan asked as Barclay and Troi sat down by the
bar.

“Whiskey… I feel like shit,” Barclay replied, facing the window. He stared
out on the stars zooming by like thin white lines.

“One whiskey coming right up. What do you want, counselor?”

“Oh, just a glass of water for me… with ice.”

“One glass of water, with ice,” Guinan laughed, “coming right up.”

Deanna looked at Barclay.

“Why are you so gloomy, Reginald?” she asked, holding his hand. She felt he
was really miserable, even more than what appeared to be normal for him.

“Oh, I messed up one of LaForge’s experiments down in Engineering. As usual
I acted without thinking… should have known better,” he replied. “Stupid!”
he shouted as he hit himself in the head, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Reg, no,” Deanna comforted, putting her hand on his shoulder, “you are not
stupid. You have an IQ at 194, Reginald… you’re a genious!”

“Maybe, but I am still an idiot. I know more than the average man can dream
of, but I always mess up when theory becomes reality.”

Barclay took the glass of whiskey that Guinan had put on the bar, and took a
sip. He knew it was just synthohol, but he felt it helped, the warming
feeling that spread through his body.

Barclay looked up from the glass, as he felt that counselor Troi had taken
her hand off his shoulder. “You have to help me, counselor, how can I…”

The words died away as he saw she wasn’t there anymore. Turning around, he
saw that Ten-Forward was empty.

“Guinan, where did everyone go?” he asked, but when he looked behing the bar
where Guinan
was supposed to be, she was gone too.

“Guinan?” he asked again, looking over the edge of the bar. She was not
there either.

“Must be something wrong,” he thought, “an emergency of some sort.”

He looked out the window, and saw that the ship was still moving, making the
stars into long lines. Tapping his commbadge he said, “Lieutenant Barclay to
the bridge. What’s happening up there?” There was no reply.

“Barclay to bridge, anyone there?” Still not reply.

This wasn’t right.

“Computer, locate Captain Picard.”

“Captain Jean-Luc Picard is not onboard.”

“When did Captain Picard leave the ship?”

“Captain Jean-Luc Picard has not left the ship.”

Barclay wondered about this contradiction for a second, then addressed the
computer again.

“Computer, locate Commander William Riker.”

“Commander William Riker is not onboard.”

“Locate…” Barclay stopped, then changed his question.

“Computer, how many peoples are onboard the U.S.S. Enterprise?”

“There is one person present, Lieutenant -”

“Yes, I know… Reginald Barclay.” And with that he ran out of Ten-Forward
towards the turbolift.

Entering the bridge, he halted, then he continued as he remembered he was
alone. The ship hadn’t been this empty since it was commishoned.

He headed for the ops, where he punched several buttons quicly. Slowly the
ship reduced it’s speed down to impulse, then to a complete stop.

“What happened here?” he thought to himself as he looked around on the
bridge.

There was suddenly a brillliant flash of light, and Q was sitting in the
captains chair. Q was dressed like a captain, with insignias and pips.

“Oh, I just played a little with reality,” Q answered to the question
Barclay had asked himself.

“Why?”

“I was boored…”

Barclay walked over to Q, and had grabbed him by the collar of his uniform,
but he was not
sure what to do.

“Won’t you please sit down, Lieutenant?” Q asked with a big smirk on his
face.

Before Barclay could say anything, Q ‘teleported’ him to Commander Riker’s
chair. Barclay had a commander’s uniform on now.

“Do you mind telling my why you did this? I mean, even you must have a real
reason, even how pathetic, to make the whole crew except me disappear…”

“Well, yes,” Q replied, “we decided to help you.”

“We? HELP me?! I hardly call this help.” Barclay was furious now.

“Yes, we in the Q continuum have decided to help you by help you help
yourself… and your crew-mates,” Q explained.

“How?”

“By becoming a Q.”

“Why should I accept?” Barclay wondered, amazed by Q’s offer.

“Why not? You will become a full-fledged member of the Q continuum, with the
same powers as me.”

Barclay thought about this for a while.

“But I don’t know how to use the power…”

“Don’t worry, my good man,” Q said, ‘grabbing’ a manual out of thin air,
“here’s the user-manual.” Q laughed.

“I’ll be back when you have decided to accept…” he said, then disappeared
with a flash.

The manual still floated in the air where Q had held it. It was not that
thick. He started to read.

Barclay had retired to his quarters, bringing the manual along. He sat down
behind his desk and opened the manual again.

After two hours he put the manual down on the desk, tired of reading. He was
just one third into it, but it felt like he had read all the books in the
universe. Twice.

He had learned how Q could appear and disappear, how he could contact Q, and
lots of other things. It would take an eternity to read through the manual,
but he suspected that he really had an eternity… curtacy of Q.

He decided he had to accept Q’s offer, and was about to summon him when he
heard Q’s voice from the sofa.

“I told you I’ld be back when you decided to accept. And you would,
eventually,” Q said, grinning.

“Well, Q… do your magic,” Barclay said resigned.

Q lifted his hands in old-fashioned magician-style, and chanted,
“Hocus-pokus, abra-cadabra, sim-salabim!”

Something that appeared to be high-level energy sparkeled out of Q’s fingers
and rained over Barclay like magic dust. Just for the effect, he reconed. He
felt a tingeling sensation in his body, and he could feel the power in every
cell.

“Now, come with me,” Q said, and with a flash, they were both gone.

“Welcome to the Q continuum, sir Reginald Barclay of Q,” a man sitting on a
high throne said.

Barclay knew this was the High Q, but how he knew this he didn’t
understand… He just knew.

He stood in the middle of a great hall that reminded him of a ballroom in a
castle from the 17th century Earth.

“Thank you, honourable High Q,” Barclay said as he bowed deeply.

Next to him stood Q, or the Q he knew, and in a wide circle around them
stood others, also Q’s. All were dressed in middleage clothes, and Barclay
noticed he was in new clothes too.

“Now, sir Reginald, is there anything you wonder about? Feel free to ask,”
High Q said.

“Yes, your e-e-excelence,” Barclay stuttered, but then pulled himself
together… A Q don’t stutter. “Can you please tell me why you decided to
make me a Q? Q here,” he said, pointing at the all-too-familiar Q next to
him, “didn’t explain properly…”

High Q rubbed his chin, then said, “One of us has left us, traveling into
the realms of Death…”

“I thought you were immortal?”

“We are, compared to almost every known races. But a Q only live as long as
he has the power. Without the power, you return to what you were before you
got it, so even if you don’t die the same instance, your remaining life is
nothing compared to eternity.”

“And therefore you regard a Q that has lost his power a dead Q?”

“That is the only way.”

“Why me, Reginald Barclay? I mean, you caused Enterprise’s crew to
disappear… so it can’t be that you’re offering me the power… you forced
me to accept, blackmailing me with the lives of the crew.”

“That, I agree, was a little unneccessary,” he said as he looked angry at
the Q that stood next to Barclay.

For a second Q sulked, but then he and the rest of the Q’s, High Q included,
began to laugh insanely.

“No, seriously,” High Q said as he regained his breath, “you were the best
candidate… and the only one likely to accept. You couldn’t resist the
power that we offered you. I guess you have to sort out the hidden details
yourself, sir Reginald. Now go back to your precious ship and save your
beloved crewmates.”

“Back to the Enterprise,” Barclay thought, and he was back on the ship
again.

The ship was still as empty as when he had left it with Q. He picked up the
manual again, and started to read.

After what seemed like only ten minutes, he was through it. Now he knew it
all…

He decided to try some easy tricks. He held the manual up infront of him,
and with a flash it was gone. He then tried to teleport, and ‘jumped’ around
in the room for some seconds.

He headed for the door, but caught himself… why not just teleport? The
next moment he was on the bridge.

Barclay consentrated on bringing the crew back. Nothing happened.

He consentrated harder, and to his relief, several flashes appeared on the
bridge, but the only ones that materialized on the bridge was Captain
Picard, counselor Troi and Lieutenant Commander Data.

“What happened? Where is the rest of the crew, and what do you and the
counselor do here so suddely?” Picard asked, “Is this another one of Q’s
tricks?”

“Erh… w-w-well,sir…” Barclay swallowed, “it is partly his doing… he
made you all disappear, but I brought you back.”

“You brought us back? You better explain this from the beginning,
Lieutenant,” Picard said.

And with that, Barclay started to explain all that had happened, from the
‘kidnapping’ of the crew, to his new powers.

“Barclay is right, Captain. It is only the four of us on the ship,” Deanna
said, “I can’t feel anyone else.”

“Data, is this accurate?” Picard asked.

After consulting a computer-console, Data said, “Yes sir, we four are the
only living beings on the Enterprise.”

“Well, let’s bring back the rest, and then we’ll decide what shall be done
with you, Barclay,” the captain stated.

“I’m afraid that is impossible… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I consentrated all I could to bring you all back, but you three were all
that appeared.”

“You have to relax, let the power work in you,” Deanna said with a calm
voice, “get in contact with self.”

Barclay breathed slowly. He felt the same tingeling sensation he had felt
earlier, only stonger.

“Don’t think like ‘I can’t’, think ‘I can’, Reginald.”

“I… I can’t.”

“You can, trust me.”

“I… I… I can. I can… I CAN!” Barclay said as he felt the energy soar
through his body.

“Now open your eyes and focus… don’t consentrate, just focus,” Deanna
said.

Barclay opened his eyes, and focused on bringing the crew back. Brilliant
flashes were everywhere on
the bridge, and the next moment, they were all back.

“Captain, the entire crew is back, sir,” Data said.

Commander Riker looked bewildered for a second, “Back? But nothing
happened…”

“Look on the viewscreen, number one,” Picard said.

Riker looked at the stars, but didn’t notice anything different at fist,
then, as he noticed the ship was not moving, his face turned into a
questionmark.

“I’ll explain later,” the captain said, “Worf, go to yellow allert.”

Picard, Riker, Data and Troi looked all at Barclay where he sat in the chair
in one of the cairs in the ready-room.

“Q offered Barclay to become a member of the Q’s, to replace one that had
passed away,” Picard explained to Riker, “but he used a dirty trick to force
Barclay to accept. Q made us all disappear, leaving just Barclay. This is
why we can’t remember what happened. We were put somewhere out of reach for
Barclay as normal human, somewhere where time and space don’t exist.”

“I believe that is not quite correct, Captain,” Data said, “my calculations
indicate that we have infact been in some sort of stasis for several days.
The stardate has changed too.”

“Can you take us back to when we disappeared?” Riker asked.

“I think I can, Commander,” Barclay replied.

“Wait, don’t do it right away, let us decide in the smallest detail what to
do, so nothing goes wrong.”

“I am hurt,” Barclay said, then disappeared in a flash of light.

“I think you hurt his ego, Riker,” Picard said, “remember he’s a Q now, and
with his ego hurt, he’s probably gone somewhere we can’t reach him.”

“He’s afraid that he will mess up… all this power is overwhelming him. He
know he can destroy everything with a thought or a word,” Deanna said.

“In other words, he have to mind his P’s and Q’s,” Riker laughed.

“Inquery. What does ‘mind his P’s and Q’s’ mean, sir? This information is
not in my memory,” Data said confused.

“It’s a pune, it means to be careful what you say,” Riker explained.

“Pune? Searching… Ah, playing with words. I understand sir. Most
interesting.”

Barclay had teleported himself back to Earth, home to his parents place. He
walked up the steps and knocked on the door. His old father came out,
looking pussled at his son.

“What are you doing here, son? I heard you were out on a mission.”

“I was, but something unexpected came up.”

“You have to tell me what is wrong,” Barclay senior said, “let’s go down in
the park…” With a flash, Barclay and his father was suddenly on a bench in
the park.

“Dad,” Barclay said, “I have Q-powers now… I had to accept it to save the
crew of the Enterprise.”

“You did right, my son. You have to think of your friends first, then
yourself.”

“That’s what I came to also, dad, but now I begin to regret I accepted. I
can’t handle this much power… You know, I know all that is written in
books, but when it comes to use that knowledge, I mess up… remember that
time I tried to fix our replicator, and mom was almost poisoned?”

“I see what you mean…”

Two generations of Barclays sat on the bench in the park for hour after
hour, until it was dark.

“You have to listen to your heart, Reginald, do what you know is right.”

Back on Enterprise the captain was informing the crew about what have
happened.

“I repeat, do not intimidate Barclay in any matter. Picard out.”

“Broccoli a Q?” one of the ensigns in the mess hall said.

A flash appeared, and Barclay sat on the chair across the table.

“I heard that, ensign…”

The ensign, which was just about to drink some juice, got it the wrong way
down, and sprinkled Barclay with it.

“That… was not neccessary, ensign,” Barclay said quietly as orange-juice
ran down his face.

“Sorry sir. Here, let me help you clean that up, sir.”

“Don’t bother,” Barclay said, and before the ensign knew it, he and Barclay
had changed place, and now it was the ensign that was all soaked in juice.
Everybody in the mess hall laughed.

Barclay entered the bridge the normal way, through the turbolift. He had
decided he had to move the ship back in time, along with the crew.

“Captain, I am ready now… I will move the entire ship back to the same
second you disappeared, only you won’t remember this,” Barclay said.

“No, wait!”

Barclay looked up from the glass, as he felt that counselor Troi had taken
her hand off his shoulder.

“You have to help me, counselor, how can I…” Barclay stopped. This
happened before.

He turned quickly around, but to his relief, Deanna was there. She had just
taken her glass of water, to wet her mouth.

“Yes?” she asked. Barclay knew now that nobody remembered what had happened.

“Nothing, counslor,” he said, as he put down the glass of whiskey, “nothing
that I can’t manage myself.”

As Barclay left Ten-Forward, Deanna looked bewildered after him. She had
sensed a sudden change of mood in him, and he was now bursting with…
energy?

Barclay went down to Engineering again.

“Barclay,” Geordi said as he noticed Barclay was back, “what are you doing
here? Sorry I yelled at you earlier, but you destroyed my project.”

“Sorry about that, sir… let me fix it.”

“Fix it? You can’t fix it now… it’s impossible!”

Barclay waited until Geordi had turned his back to him, then put his finger
on the console.

“What was that flash?!” Geordi asked.

“Got to go, sir…” Barclay said, as he left.

Back stood a pussled Geordi LaForge and looked at his project, ticking along
as if nothing had happened.

=/= THE END =/=

=/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/= =/=

Well, what do you think? I hope you liked it. If you want to add this to a
fan fict web site, please do so… just don’t change anything! You can link
to Science Lab A directly at

https://www.worm-hole.net/Chip

Jim “Chip” Henriksen
C.H.I.P. // Cybernetic Humanoid Intelligence Processor

Posted in The Next Generation | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Adventure of the Anonymous Agent Provocateur

By allyngibson | Published July 12, 2004

This manuscript, “The Adventure of the Anonymous Agent Provocateur,” came
into my possession through a most unusual set of circumstances, and
considering the nature of the story contained within the manuscript, I have
chosen to publish the story through these means rather than through more
conventional means.  Hopefully, my presumption was not unwarranted.

The manuscript was found in my college’s debate office early in September
1998 during our annual office clean-up.  With the team knowing of my
interest in Sherlock Holmes the manuscript naturally went to me; no one
else on the team wanted to claim it.  The question of how it came to be
there in the first place seemed insoluble for a time until a chance
conversation with a former Richmond debater shed some light on the matter.
Some years ago, five or six if memory serves, the University of Richmond
debate team travelled to London to participate in a tournament and while
there a student on the team with an interest in rare books did a book crawl
through the City, hauling back home several hundred dollars in musty books
and manuscripts.  There is some question as to whether or not he even knew
everything that he had bought as he took almost all of his purchases home
and leaving a few odds and ends in the office, awaiting our discovery, one
of those odds and ends being this manuscript.

Unfortunately, attempts to contact the former debater about his loss (and
my gain) have been unsuccessful.  In the meantime, I took the liberty of
transcribing the manuscript given my own natural interest in the subject.
Some effort has been made to authenticate the manuscript which runs a full
thirty-four pages of neat handwriting.  The paper is old and slightly
brittle, the handwriting slightly worn and faded.  Carbon dating on one
sheet places its age as being from circa 1910, which confirms some of the
dating references in the story.  The question of why this manuscript was
lost, and more importantly, why it was written, cannot as yet be answered.

The textfile posted here is a transcription of the first thirty-one pages;
the last three pages mark the beginning of another, though not wholly
separate, story, one that breaks off suddenly in the middle of a sentence.
Punctuation and spelling have been Americanized through the use of Word 97;
this was done for consistencies sake because I am a horrible typist and it
was easier to make the spelling American than to try and make sure that the
spelling was British and correcting the autocorrects.  Also, for the sake
of your e-mail client, the file has been broken into four smaller chunks,
which have been numbered for easy reference.  The breakings in the
manuscript are my own; I chose moments in the story where Watson comes to a
dramatic peak, a cliffhanger of sorts, but in actuality there are no breaks
within the manuscript.

When and if the continuation of those final three pages are located, the
story will be continued.  In the meantime, this story is available for your
enjoyment.

Allyn Gibson  (agibson@richmond.edu)
University of Richmond
Richmond, Virginia
22 January 1998

The Adventure of the Anonymous Agent Provocateur
being a lost manuscript by Dr. John H. Watson

My friend Sherlock Holmes was not one known for the giving of gifts; on
those rare occasions when he did so it was only for the most important and
celebratory of reasons.  In those two years following his return from the
East Holmes’ manner had changed somewhat; usually Christmas and New Year’s
would pass unobserved, but this particular Christmas, for no reason that I
could discern, Holmes found the need to give me a present.  He said nothing
upon doing so, simply tossing the wrapped book in my lap as he mumbled a
few unintelligible and possibly meaningless words, and returned to his
daily perusal of the agony columns.

Two weeks had passed since then, and my medical practice in Paddington was
consuming most of my waking hours, and thus Holmes’ activities during the
time were unknown to me.  But I found myself sharing many hours of quiet
solitude with Holmes on the night of January Sixth, Eighteen Ninety-Six, a
wholly unremarkable day save for a drab fog hanging low over London.
Indeed, the time was best spent catching up on my leisure reading, and
while I had not yet begun to read Holmes’ present, I had glanced through
the tome several times, whetting my appetite for larger morsels yet to
come.

I held the book in my hands, and set it down on the table for perhaps the
dozenth time.  “Tell me, Holmes, have you read it?” I asked at last.

Holmes did not look up from the morning’s Times.  “You mean The Time
Machine, I presume?”

“What else would I mean?”

Holmes flung the Times on the table and took up his pipe.  “Watson, I count
no fewer than seventeen volumes that you have purchased within the past two
months that you have done no more than lovingly hold, shake your head upon
discovering that you have insufficient time in which to immerse yourself in
the book, and then replace the book, unread, in a treasured spot on the
shelves.  Knowing your proclivities, I should be safe in concluding that
each of those volumes has received at the very least a cursory examination
of some sort, whether you have read an isolated chapter or the very next
sentence.

“As to why The Time Machine, my reasoning should be simple; having been
married you tend to see some kind of sentimental attachment toward any
gift, and you think that the giver requires that the gift be read
immediately, lest the giver be truly offended.  I need only point out to
you that you have looked in my direction for some sign of disgust no less
than five times within the past twenty minutes, all the while holding the
offending volume.  Really, Watson, it should have been quite obvious.”
Holmes paused as he lit his pipe and drew in sharply.  “As to whether or
not I have read the book, you should be able to determine from the oil
smudges across the exposed paper edges and the creases along the spine of
the dust jacket that, yes, I have in fact read H.G. Wells’ novel.”

“And what did you think of it?  Travel into the past, the future?  Imagine
the great unsolved mysteries of the world that could be laid bare before
us.  And what of the future?  What does fate hold in store?  One can almost
imagine trips through time as one might travel by cab or by train.”

“Ah, Watson, what of the possibilities for crime?  Imagine committing the
perfect murder by using a time machine to be in two places at once.  Your
past self creates an unbreakable alibi while your future self commits the
deed.  Such a technology, while practical for some and educational for
others, would no doubt be abused for the sake of personal gain.  I am well
aware of your humanistic tendencies, and your judgment of humanity is
favorable, but a healthy dose of scepticism is quite necessary.

“And as for my opinion of the book, I consider it to be lurid and damning
trash, fit for children and simpletons, hardly worth your while.”  With
that, Holmes resumed his perusal of the evening papers as he smoked his
cherrywood pipe, filling our digs with the pungent odor of the burning
shag.  Chastised as I was I returned to Wells, determined to make some
effort toward beginning the novel.  No fewer than fifteen minutes passed,
however, when Holmes bolted from the couch.

“Watson, we shall have to make plans at once!”

“Whatever for?” I asked.

“Guinan is in London, staying at the Savoy, no less.”

“Holmes, whoever might this Guinan be?”

Holmes shrugged.  “I am not entirely sure, though she proved an invaluable
companion during my journeys several years ago.  She seems to know things
that cannot be empirically determined, and her intuition is peerless.
Whatever her origins, she is a most delightful individual, shown most
readily in her books.”

“Books?”

“A published author.  Rumor has it that she travels in the same circles as
some of our literary giants — Wilde, Shaw, Twain.  In any event, Watson,
we shall have to visit her, tomorrow night perhaps.  Did you have plans?”

“No.”

“Very well, then.  Tomorrow night it is.”

Just then there was a knocking at the door.  Holmes went to open it,
revealing our housekeeper, Mrs. Hudson upon the landing.  “Mister Holmes,”
she said, “forgive my interruption, but this just arrived.”  She handed
Holmes a sealed envelope and retired downstairs.

Holmes returned to the couch and turned the envelope over in his hands.
Assuming the note to be a private communication of some sort I stood and
went to the window overlooking Baker Street, pulling back the curtains and
looking into the dimly lit street below.  Under the dim gaslamps rested a
hansom cab, its driver standing on the kerb smoking his pipe.  A light from
within seemed to cast upon him, as though Mrs. Hudson had opened the door
to the man.  My suspicion was confirmed when the light faded away and I
could hear the door shut below.

“Holmes, look,” I said, indicating the street below.

Holmes came to the window and looked down into the street.  “This explains
much,” he said.  “Are you up for a little travel tonight?”

“Where?”

He handed me the note.

Come at once.  The driver is at your disposal.
— Mycroft

The journey through the fogbound streets of London was a brief one —
though London teams with traffic, at this hour the ancient city was all but
deserted, her windows shuttered against the oppressing fog.  As the cab
passed through the streets we journeyed in silence; whatever thoughts
Holmes held he kept to himself.  At last the cab pulled up at the imposing
entrance to the Diogenes Club, and I quitted the cab.  Two storeys above
there was a room aglow with lights, save for the occasional movement of men
within.  Holmes joined me, noticed as well the commotion above.

“The Stranger’s Room, I presume,” I said.

Holmes but nodded.

We mounted the steps and knocked upon the door.  As the normal usher was
not in residence at this late hour, one of the members answered the knock
personally.  He escorted us silently to the Stranger’s Room, the only room
in the club where talking was permitted.  The door swung open and Holmes
and I entered the room.

Mycroft Holmes was not alone.  He was joined by another, the Foreign
Minister, a wholly detestable man whom was not held in high regard by those
within the government or without.  Mycroft made no effort to stand for our
entrance; his immense size likely made standing for prolonged periods of
time damaging to his health.  Instead, he merely waved his hand in the
direction of the two chairs situated opposite his and the Minister’s.

“Sherlock,” began Mycroft, “the government requires your able assistance.”

Holmes leaned back languidly in his chair.  “A delicate matter, I presume.”

“Quite.  Your discretion in the Cadogan West affair has not gone unnoticed
at the highest levels of Her Majesty’s government.”

“A political problem, then?  A scandal involving a member of Parliament,
perhaps?”

The Foreign Minister cleared his throat.  “Were it that simple.  No, the
problem is this.  Early this morning the Earl of Bulkington, noted member
of the House of Lords, discovered a trespasser near one of his industrial
warehouses in the East End, near the Thames.  Scotland Yard was called in
to investigate and promptly arrested the man on the charge of espionage.”

“I was unaware of any foreign spies having been arrested today,” said
Holmes.

“Nor I,” answered Mycroft.  “However, it is the Earl’s opinion that the man
was a French spy.”

“This is most curious, to say the least.  A French spy, you say?”

Mycroft retrieved a file from his attache case.  “I have Inspector
Lestrade’s report here.  Ah, here it is.  ‘The man speaks with a slight
French accent, and his English is somewhat familiar, though the words used
were on occasion ungrammatical.'”

“The man is French, then,” said Holmes.

“It appears so.  However, my unofficial contacts with the French Secret
Service have failed to identify the man.  Indeed, this appears to be a case
of mistaken identity.”

“I fail to see the problem,” I said.

Mycroft cleared his throat.  “Doctor, the Earl of Bulkington has spent the
past three years developing a new, secret military technology for the Royal
Navy, one that may well give Britain a substantial lead in the balance of
power on the Continent.  When one considers the Earl’s standing in the
House of Lords, he may well use this incident as a rallying cry for
increased military funding and a more militant stance against the
Continental powers, in particular France and Germany.  While the French
Ambassador’s insistent denials were persuasive to Her Majesty’s government,
they did not convince the Earl, who demanded an independent investigation,
one who’s impartiality cannot be impeached.  Naturally, Sherlock, my
thoughts in this matter turned to you.”

Holmes sighed.  “Very well, Mycroft.  Have you a description of the man?”

Mycroft ruffled through his papers and began reading again, “‘He wears the
most outlandish clothes.’  And later Lestrade writes that the man appears
middle aged and balding.”

“What was his attire?” I asked.

Mycroft said, “As Lestrade writes, ‘a black suit, almost an overalls,
trimmed in red at the shoulders, with a purple turtleneck underneath.'”

“Does Lestrade give the man a name?” asked Holmes.

“Indeed.  However, it is a name with which I am unfamiliar, and consider
that both you and I are aware of the identities of all foreign spies
presently in England, I have no doubt that you would be unfamiliar with the
name as well.”

“Mycroft, your insinuation is insulting.  The name.”

“Oh, very well, Sherlock.  The man’s name is Jean-Luc Picard.”

Had I not known Holmes as well as I did, the tightening of Holmes’ breath
would have passed unnoticed.  Surely the Foreign Minister did not recognize
Holmes’ brief involuntary action as the shock of recognition as I did and
most assuredly did Mycroft Holmes.  I chose not to remark upon Holmes’
reaction, and trusted that Mycroft Holmes would not remark upon it, either.
Mycroft continued, “Sherlock, Her Majesty’s government requests that you
find substantial proof verifying that this Picard is not in the employ of
the French.”

Holmes response was curt.  “I see.  Very well, then, Mycroft, I shall look
into the matter.  Would I be safe in assuming that Picard is still in the
custody of Scotland Yard?”

“For the time being, yes, he is.”

Holmes stood.  “Come, Watson.  We have business to pursue.”

With that Holmes and I took our leave and flagged down a cab.  “Holmes,” I
said once we had put the Diogenes Club far behind us.  “Scotland Yard, I
presume.”

“Eventually, yes.”

“Eventually?  A slight detour, then?”

“Quite correct.”  “Holmes rapped on the back of the cab and shouted, “The
Savoy, if you would!  And a Guinea if we arrive in fifteen minutes!”

“Guinan?”

“Watson, you surprise me.  Perhaps my habits have begun to rub off on you,
after all.”

I had never known Holmes to rely on intuition over intellect, but this was
as yet a most unusual case for Holmes.  “Have you any theories, Holmes?
The name, Picard, you recognized it.”

“Watson, to theorize in advance of the facts is madness itself, as any
theory invariably biases the result.  You know my methods, Watson.  Apply
them.”

“Holmes, the facts as I see them lend themselves to no particular pattern.
A man arrested, then cleared of the crime by a foreign government, and what
of the machinations of the Earl of Bulkington?  Perhaps we are lacking some
important clue.”

“Quite the two-pipe problem, wouldn’t you say?  As yet, no one solution
suggests itself easily, though I believe that Guinan will provide me the
clue required.”

“Guinan?  How so?”

“Watson, I was not entirely truthful with Mycroft, and I quite suspect that
Mycroft suspected my deception.  I have heard of Jean-Luc Picard, as you
surmised quite rightly, though if the man I have heard mentioned is not the
Picard in the custody of the Yard, then Guinan’s assistance will be all for
naught.”

“I am curious, Holmes.  How does Guinan know Picard?”

“I am not entirely certain that she does.”

“Then how can she help us?  Holmes, I am confused.”

“As are we all, Watson.  As are we all.”

The cab rode on in silence for several more moments.  Holmes appeared lost
in thought.  “Holmes,” I said, “what of the Earl?  I fail to see the
connection between trespassing and espionage.  It seems to me that this
case could simply be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“All too true.  Tell me, Watson, what do you know of the Earl of
Bulkington?”

“His reputation as a philanthropist precedes him.  I dare say his
philanthropy comes from his war injuries.”

“A fellow veteran of Her Majesty’s Army, I presume.”

“Quite so, Holmes.  Though in the Earl’s case, he fought in Crimea against
the Czar.  I believe he lost a leg, his right, if memory serves.  But
Holmes, surely you know all this for yourself.”

“Watson, it would not do to enter the dragon’s lair without some
foreknowledge of the foe.  Indeed, my knowledge in this instance seems to
surpass your own.  Philip Edward Pollard, the eighth Earl of Bulkington,
did in fact lose his leg during the Crimean War, under the most singular of
circumstances.  Then-Major Pollard was leading an infantry charge against a
Russian embankment when his mount was struck by French artillery fire.  His
leg was, most unfortunately, amputated, and he has since received an annual
pension in the amount of 1500 pounds sterling from the French government.”

“Holmes!  I daresay your knowledge is most astonishing.  Do you keep
biographies of all the members of the House of Lords in your memory?”

“Nothing quite that extraordinary, my dear fellow.  I have been secretly
interested in the Earl for some months; another of Mycroft’s infernal
palace intrigues, I regret.  There are some who fear that the Earl is
seeking a pretext for improving his political standing, perhaps as far as
pushing for a breach between Britain and France.  It may well be that we
shall have to pay the Earl a visit in the near future.”

The Savoy loomed large in our sighs and the cab came to a halt.  As Holmes
and I entered the lobby, Holmes said, “Watson, be a good man and retire to
the lounge for a few moments; the details of my relationship with Guinan
being a personal affair and not one for your sordid chronicles.”

“Really, Holmes, this is too much.  My chronicles are hardly the lurid,
objectionable trash that you called The Time Machine this very evening.
Consider, they have brought you a measure of fame and fortune, and very
much worth the while of much of London’s populace.”

“Watson, why ever you persist in writing these trifles is beyond my
comprehension.”  Holmes rang the bell at the desk, summoning the night
clerk from some inner sanctum.  The man that confronted us was a short,
husky man, weighing perhaps 15 stone.  “Wha’ d’ye wan’, gents?  Room for
the night, p’haps?”

“Not this evening, sir.  The room of Madame Guinan, if you wound,” said
Holmes as he slid a gold sovereign across the counter.

“‘Ell, gov’ner, ‘at’ll be room 213, secon’ floor, top o’ the stair.”

Holmes nodded.  “Thank you, sir.  Good evening.”  Holmes mounted the stairs
while I retired to the hotel lounge and helped myself to a pint of stout.
The local stout was far superior to the ales that I had been subjected to
during my time with the Indian Army, and as I savored the musky aromas of
the stout my hand stole toward the old, familiar wound, as I become lost in
a reverie for those long-past times.

Perhaps twenty minutes later Holmes returned, apparently having failed at
his attempt to gain the mysterious Guinan’s assistance.  When questioned,
Holmes’ answers were decidedly noncommittal, a tone Holmes had often
assumed when he discovered the incorrectness of a solution to some
important problem.  The cab was still waiting for us, and Holmes indicated
that the driver take us straight to Scotland Yard.

Holmes and I rarely had occasion to visit the Yard.  Typical of our
associations with the Yard, their business was brought to us, never the
reverse.  Holmes maintained a stony silence on our journey through London,
as my attempts to rouse him from his reverie were all rebuffed.  We rode on
then in silence save for the clopping of the horse’s hooves on the
cobblestone pavement.

The Yard was alive upon our arrival; as Holmes often said, crime never
rests.  Holmes had hoped to apply our relationship with Lestrade to gain
access to Picard, but the incomparable Lestrade was unavailable that night.
Instead, we were directed to Stanley Hopkins, a Scotland Yard inspector
held in higher regard by Holmes than Lestrade.

Hopkins was hunched over his desk, his head buried in paperwork.  Holmes
rapped on the desk, startling poor Hopkins.  “Mr. Holmes!  This is
certainly a rare surprise.  Here on business, I presume?”

“Unfortunately,” said Holmes.  “Were it not urgent business, I have little
doubt that Watson and I would not have come until the morning.”

“I see.  What then can I do for you?”

Holmes withdrew a warrant from his frock coat and presented it to Hopkins
who looked it over.  “You want to see Picard, then?”

Holmes assented.

“I think I can manage something for you, then.  Hell, the Foreign Office
has cleared the man, he says he didn’t realize he was trespassing, and we’d
rather not be holding him, except that the Earl of Bulkington put pressure
on the superiors here.  We’d have released him in the morning, in any
event, we haven’t the grounds to hold him at all.  If you want him, he’ll
be yours, and I’ll take care of the paperwork tomorrow.”

Holmes looked at me.  “Very well, then.  Hopkins, release him into our
custody.”

“Holmes!” I exclaimed.

Holmes waved his hand.  “Really, Watson, you have my assurances that
nothing untoward will happen.”

“Your assurances?  Holmes, you confound me at times.”

The holding cells were darkly lit, the oil lamps needed replacement, their
wan light casting hideous shadows on the jagged stone walls.  Stanley
Hopkins took the lead, heading through the narrow pathway amongst the iron
bars.  The cells reeked of human refuse; these cells were not often
cleaned.  Holmes took no note of it, however, his thought were clearly
elsewhere as they so often were in the hunt of a case.

“This is the cell, Mr. Holmes.”  Hopkins cast the pale glow of his handlamp
through the bars, revealing an older man, perhaps sixty years of age, bald
save for a fringe of profuse white hair around the temples.  He was
sleeping fitfully, the rags given him for a blanket barely covering his
body.

“Open the cell, Hopkins.”

Hopkins fumbled with his keys, rattling metal upon metal, the echoes of the
sound reverberating throughout the cells.  Picard stirred, woken by our
presence.  Hopkins found the key, fitted it in the lock, and turned to the
sound of grinding tumblers within.  With a mighty creak the door swung
open, and Holmes shot through the door with a bolt, placing himself in the
shadows cast by Hopkins lamp.

Picard’s face was eerily illuminated, the light shone directly in his face,
and he raised a hand to block the light.  “Who are you?” he asked quietly
in cultured English, with an accent that showed no trace of French descent.

Hopkins made a move to answer Picard’s query, but Holmes raised his hand to
stop him.  “Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my companion Doctor John
Watson.  The man holding the lamp is Inspector Stanley Hopkins of Scotland
Yard.”

Picard nodded slowly.  “Sherlock Holmes?  I see.”  Picard looked at the
floor.  “Am I being released.”

Holmes answered.  “Not quite.  Scotland Yard has agreed to temporarily
release you into my care, until a fuller disposition of your circumstances
can be ascertained.”

Hopkins moved to Picard’s side to remove the leg irons that bound him.
Picard stood and stretched, revealing himself to be an unimposing man,
quite ordinary in appearance and character, his body wrapped in the
standard blue jumpsuit afforded prisoners.  Picard stood there and Holmes
motioned for me.  “Watson, perform a preliminary examination, if you
would.”

“Here, Holmes?” I protested.  “Surely you cannot be serious.”

Holmes’ stare was answer enough.  Taking Hopkins’ lamp in hand I ran it
across Picard’s body, examining face, chest, arms, legs.  “Anything?” asked
Holmes.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Very well.  Hopkins, lead the way.”  Taking his lamp in hand, Hopkins led
us back, past the moans of the mass of incarcerated humanity.  Holmes was
an unaffected as before, a monument to stoicism matched only by the stride
of the freed Picard.  Holmes’ cases all too often had their peaks and
valleys, but for once I felt as though this case had not yet begun.

Hopkins left us to retrieve some paperwork necessary for our release of
Picard, despite his assurances that he would deal with the paperwork in the
morning.  He returned a few moments later with Picard’s original clothing,
a purple turtleneck and a two-piece black jumpsuit with an open collar.
Picard excused himself for a few moment while he changed, and upon his
return his whole appearance and bearing had altered.  In his prison blues
Picard looked like quite the ordinary fellow, but in his black uniform his
whole look took on an almost other-worldly tone.

“Inspector Hopkins,” said Picard, “I seem to be missing a gold insignia.”

“My apologies, sir, but there was no insignia on your person.”

“I see,” said Picard.

The return journey to our digs at 221B Baker Street was uneventful.  I was
shaking off the effects of my pint of stout while Picard seemed to be
resting after a day’s trauma at the hands of Scotland Yard.  Holmes, too,
was quite his reserved self; he appeared to have drifted off into a restful
slumber.  Within twenty minutes the cab stopped in front of our familiar
door, and we disembarked.

Mrs. Hudson was still awake, though the hour was late.  I hustled Picard up
the stairs to our rooms while Holmes made arrangement for a late-night meal
for our guest.  Picard’s demeanor matched that of Holmes’ to a great deal,
upon seeing our rooms for the first time, Picard’s expression was one of
shock, but it quickly tempered back to a reserved strain.  Holmes returned
mere moments later, his ministrations with Mrs. Hudson apparently
successful.

Holmes retired to his couch, filling his pipe with shag and lighting up.
Picard sat still in a chair, and I took my familiar place, notebook in hand
as I had done many times before.  “Tell me, Picard,” began Holmes, “who are
you and what brings you to London.”

Picard sat silent for several moments, then said, “Sir, if you are truly
Sherlock Holmes, then make some deduction about me.  If I agree with your
assessment, then I will tell you what I know.”

“Very well, then, Mr. Picard, I agree.  I suspect, Picard, that you are a
time traveller, sent from the future, several centuries in our advance,
though as to your purpose I have no clue.  Furthermore, you are from
France, very likely southern France to judge by your accent, though you
have spent a number of years from your homeland and this has caused your
accent to fade.  Also, in your time you are a captain or leader, though
your actual position I cannot determine.  The rest, I leave to you.”

“Holmes!” I exclaimed.  “This is too much!  H.G. Wells has infected your
mind, I’m certain of it.”

“Hardly, Watson.  If Picard is in fact from the future, then so be it.  But
if he is not, then I am simply ‘playing a prank’ on an innocent bystander,
one who stands to create a major diplomatic breach between two of the Great
Powers of Europe.”

“Indeed,” said Picard.  “England and Germany, perhaps.”

“Hardly Germany, good sir.  England and France.”

“France?” said Picard.  “I think that unlikely at best.  The Alliance
between England and France…”  Picard paused, considering his next words
carefully.

“As yet, Picard, there is no formal alliance between our two nations.  In
the future, perhaps, but for the present there is none.”

“I see.  Well, Mr. Holmes, your reputation precedes you.  I would tip my
hat, if I had one.”

Holme smiled thinly.  “That can be remedied, I assure you.”

Several minutes later there came a knocking at the door downstairs.  The
neighing of a cab’s horse could be heard, and Mrs. Hudson was heard
conversing with someone down the stairs.  Within seconds the sound of
footfalls could be heard coming from the stairs.  I rose to get the door,
but Holmes waved me down.  “I’ll get it myself, Watson.”

Holmes opened the door, revealing the most stunning woman ever to grace our
lodgings.  Her skin was ebony, her features classical, and her head was
adorned with the largest of hats I have ever seen.  “Watson, this is
Guinan.  Picard, I believe that you know her.”

Picard stood, his jaw agape, and he whispered, “Guinan?”

“Jean-Luc?” she said, as she approached him.  “I thought you wouldn’t come
back.”

“I don’t know quite how I did, but I am here now.  And you, you never
left?”

“It’s not time yet.  I can feel it.”

Holmes resumed his seat and I pulled over a chair for a new guest.  “So,
Picard, I have fulfilled my side of the bargain.  Now what of your tale.

“Very well, then, Mr. Holmes.  My name, as you know, is Jean-Luc Picard.  I
am, in my time, a starship captain, and somehow, on my latest mission,
found myself transported here, to Earth’s distant past.”

“Distant past,” I echoed.  “How far into the future, then?”

Picard looked to me and then to Holmes.  “What year is this?”

“Eighteen ninety-six,” I replied.

Picard paused for a moment then said, “Approximately four hundred and
seventy-five years.”

Holmes said, “Nearly five centuries.  Incredible.  And what was your
mission?”

“I hardly see the relevance.  I can think of nothing relating to that
mission that could have resulted in my being here.”

“It is quite possible that there is no relevance,” conceded Holmes, “but
the more facts I have at my disposal, the quicker the disposition of your
case.”

Picard nodded his assent.  “You are, of course, correct.  My crew and I
were in pursuit of a terrorist, a Doctor Soran.  We located him on a planet
known as Veridian III, where he had constructed an apparatus to destroy a
star.  Beaming down to stop him–”

“Beaming?” I asked.

“Direct transport from one location to another, such as from here to Paris,
all in the matter of a second or two.”

“You do not physically travel from here to there?”

“Not exactly.  Essentially, one is broken down into his constituent
molecules and reassembled in another location in a matter of seconds.”

“I see,” said Holmes.  “Pray continue.”

“Beaming down to stop him I encountered a force shield of some type–”

“Force shield?” I queried.

“Unfortunately, I could hardly begin to answer your question.  The physics
behind the application of force shield technology have not yet even been
discovered by Earth scientists, and I can think of no manner in which to
describe it, even by analogy, except perhaps to call it an invisible wall.”

“That should suffice, wouldn’t you say, Watson?”

I nodded my assent.

“To continue, I discovered a way under his force shield, but became
trapped.  Soran discovered me there, then attacked me with a hand-held
disruptor.”

“Disruptor?”

“Similar to a pistol, but instead of firing bullets, it fires pure energy.”

“A radiation of some kind?” asked Holmes.

“Yes.”

“I see.  Go on, then.”

“After his attack, I must have passed out, because when I came to I found
myself here, on Earth.”

“So you have no inkling of how you came to be here?”

“None.”

“This is most singular.  In any case, the most logical course of action
would be to find a way to return you to your own time, but your own
ignorance concerning your arrival here makes any likelihood of returning
you to your own time impossible for the time being.”

Picard nodded.  “Unfortunately, I would tend to agree,” he said.

Guinan had remained silent during our questioning of Picard, perhaps
because she too was unfamiliar with the events that he described.  Why this
was so I was unsure.  That Guinan and Picard had a relationship of some
sort in the past was clear, but the story of how Picard came to know
someone in his far distant past was as yet an untold tale.

“Tell me, Picard,” said Holmes after a few moments, “What do you know of
the Earl of Bulkington?”

“Philip Edward Pollard, the Eighth Earl of Bulkington?”

“The same.”

“Very little, beyond the historical records of him extant in my time.”

“Summarize if you would.”

“The Earl of Bulkington was a soldier in the British Army during the
Crimean War, if memory serves.  Then, after his retirement from the
military he became a researcher into rocketry technology, predating several
American and German scientists by thirty years.”

“Your information is most interesting, though the verity of it I cannot
confirm.  However, it is clear that there is some connection between the
Earl’s industrial experiments in the East End and your appearance here in
London.”

“Holmes, it may only be a coincidence,” I said.

“Watson, the most intangible of coincidences often lead to the most firm of
certainties.  Have no doubt, the Earl of Bulkington is not as innocent as
he appears, his machinations may well have dire consequences for the
British Empire.  I feel a surreptitious visit to his establishment would
most certainly be the best course of action to pursue.”

“Holmes!” I exclaimed.  “On what grounds?”

“Watson, must I connect the dots for you?  Very well.  Bulkington was
covertly interested in the Bruce-Partington Plans, the very plans that
involved the late Cadogan West.  Mycroft’s mere mention of the name should
have been an indication of the seriousness of this affair, and my mention
that I had been compiling a mental dossier on the Earl should have alerted
you as well to the dire nature of his affairs.

“It is thought within some corners of the government that Bulkington has
secretly been developing a secret weapon of some manner, which would almost
certainly be in an advanced state of development by now.  Picard’s
revelation of his legacy leaves no doubt of his intent, certainly a flying
weapon, a missile of some sort, perhaps, able to strike at the distances of
continents.

“Watson, the government is impotent to act, thus the weight falls upon our
shoulders.  Picard, I cannot ask you to join us, but it is the Earl that
has besmirched your reputation.  The scales must be righted.  Will you join
us?”

Picard stood decisively.  “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, I would be honored to
join you.”

“Excuse me, Holmes,” said Guinan, “might I join you as well?”

“Why, certainly, Guinan, most certainly.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Holmes sprung from the divan.  “Come, then.  We haven’t a moment to lose!”

Procuring a cab at two in the morning is difficult by any measure, but
Holmes had his methods.  Within twenty minutes a cab passed by our digs and
we were off on the chase.  The fate of the Empire was in the balance.

The East End of London is the dregs of the Empire, home to the riffraff and
rabble of a cultured society.  That the Earl of Bulkington would plan his
nefarious experiments in that den on iniquity was but one enigmas
confronting Holmes and myself on this most remarkable case.  We passed
briefly through Whitechapel, site of the most heinous murders of the
century a few short years before, and onward to the warehouse by the
Thames.

Confronting us was an imposing warehouse, situated on a dock that extended
out into the Thames.  Even at this late hour there was some activity
occurring within, the noises of the fall of hammers an the low murmurs of
voices echoes through the vast building.  Picard led us to where he found
himself after his bizarre journey from the distant future.  Holmes fell
prone on the ground, examining the trampled dirt in the unyielding darkness
for some clue as to Picard’s existence here.  After fifteen minutes of
searching Holmes found a shining insignia of some sort, gold in color, an
arch shaped thing with two curved bars supporting it.  “This is yours, I
presume.”

Picard took it in his hand, turning it over and over again.  “Thank you,
Mr. Holmes.”  He pinned it to the front of his uniform then tapped the
badge, which made a chirping sound.  Whatever he expected it to do, he
found himself disappointed.

“A communications device of some sort, perhaps,” said Holmes.

“Yes.”

“You were hoping that your crew might have followed you here, into the
past.”

“I had hoped, but as the saying goes, ‘If wishes were horses,’ or so it
goes.”

“Quite so.”

Holmes came up to my side, while I was gazing fixedly at Guinan as she
performed a reconnaissance of the grounds.  “Well, Watson, what do you
think?”

“You suspect some foul play within.”

“Really, Watson, I should think you know me better than that.  I suspect
nothing, nothing at all.  The only way to resolve this situation is to
investigate whatever activity is occurring within.”

“Agreed,” said Picard.

Within minutes Guinan returned, reporting that a side door to the warehouse
was unlocked.  Guinan led the way, followed by Holmes and myself, with a
watchful Picard bringing up the rear.  Holmes had his trusted Webley at the
ready, and my revolver was close at my side.  The door, left slightly ajar,
led to an inner office, from which we had a clear view of the warehouse’s
interior.

“Well, Picard, what do you think?” asked Holmes.

I stood agape, staring at the massive contraption through the office’s
windows.  Cylindrical in shape, it rose sixty feet into the air, topped by
a spherical bubble studded with windows.  The base was even more mystifying
than the body.  The cylinder was mounted six feet above a giant disk shaped
apparatus, a disk that may well have been thirty feet across.  Whatever the
device was or what its ultimate purpose might be eluded me.

Holmes said, “A rocket, I presume.”

“Quite possibly,” said Picard.  “Though if it is a rocket, it is of a type
I have never before encountered.”

“How so?”

“During Earth’s early experimentation with rocketry in the late twentieth
and early twenty-first centuries, all rockets were chemically powered,
usually by a mixing of an explosive nitrate compound with an oxidizer
resulting in a focused thrust.  But a chemical rocket requires an exhaust
nozzle of some sort to focus or channel the thrust.  This rocket, however,
only has that broad disk, so I cannot fathom the motive force.”

“Picard,” said Guinan.  “I think I know.”

Three heads turned when Guinan spoke.  “Indeed,” said Holmes.

Guinan pointed at the disk.  “Look at the rim.  Notice how there are
inward-pointing bulges at regular intervals.”

I confess that I had not noticed.  The disk itself did not rest upon the
ground, but the whole rocket was suspended in the air by three harnesses.

“An Orion?” asked Picard.

“I think so,” said Guinan.

“Forgive me, but I do not understand,” I said.

“The Orion, Doctor, was a theoretical starship designed by several noted
Earth scientists during the middle of the twentieth century.  The motive
force was not a chemical reaction as had been commonly used, but instead
the plan was to use a sequence of low-yield atomics exploding against a
massive blast plate to provide thrust.”

Guinan said, “While Earth never experimented with the Orion, it was in
common use on my homeworld of El-Auria.”

I nodded my head, though I must confess that I had understood nothing of
what Picard had said.  Holmes, however, seemed to have comprehended a great
deal.

“Picard, I doubt that the Earl would have these ‘atomics,’ but I suspect
that he may be using explosive artillery shells in their place.”

“Holmes,” I said, “do not tell me that you understood what Picard had just
said?”

“Watson, it was a most simple matter to deduce.  If you look over to the
left, just beyond the far edge of the disk you will notice stacked against
the wall are perhaps fifteen or twenty crates of standard British Army
artillery cartridges.”

The final workers had left, leaving us alone in the cavernous building,
save for one man.  Standing high above us on a gantry extending toward the
spherical appendage of the rocket was the Earl.  I pointed him out to my
companions and said, “Holmes, how could he have possibly climbed up there?
The only way to the top that I see is that ladder, but it would be most
difficult to climb a ladder with a wooden leg.”

“Agreed.  However, Watson, I would suppose that he might well have used a
crane of some sort to reach the platform.”

Properly chastised I then began to survey the edge of the disk.  It was as
Guinan had said, feeling under the rim I found several gun barrels, firmly
mounted into the disk’s structure.  I glanced up at Bulkington, but he had
disappeared.  “Holmes, where ever did Bulkington go?”

“He opened an aperture in the sphere and disappeared within.  Come, let us
find where he has gone.”

Holmes began to climb the ladder, followed by Picard and myself.  The
ladder rose for thirty feet or so, and the climb became ever longer.  At
last we reached the top, and Holmes began to look about.  He took an
interest in the construction of the platform and its intricate ironwork.

Bulkington reappeared, looking straight at us.  “Sherlock Holmes,” he said.
“I should have expected the government to send you.  And the Frenchman,
whatever his name is.  This only proves that our government is in league
with the damnable French.”

“Picard.  My name is Picard.”

“It is no matter,” said Bulkington.  He gestured at his rocket.  “Well,
gentlemen, what do you think of my present to the Empire?”

“Most impressive,” said Holmes.  “I fail, however, to see its ultimate
purpose.”

“The purpose?  Why, to enforce the peace, of course.”  Gesturing at his
monstrosity, Bulkington said, “With this rocket, and others like it, Europe
will be in our thrall.  For too long our politicians have attempted to
appease the powers of the Continent by playing their games against one
another.  But now, with rockets such as these, we can as easily drop tons
of nitroglycerin on Moscow as on Paris, or Calais.”  He laughed maniacally.
“Henry V sought to regain our ancient right in France, and now we can
reclaim it for ourselves!  Look at Germany, building an Empire out of the
chaos of the Continent, and who is to say that we cannot do the same?  They
say that the sun never sets on Her Majesty’s empire, but is it not obvious
that we cannot forever hold our farflung empire without some Sword of
Damocles to enforce our just peace?”

“Your rantings, sir,” said Holmes, “are the rantings of a power-mad
lunatic, and nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” cried Bulkington as he lunged toward us, and I fired a
warning shot off to his left.  The shock of the sound confused Bulkington
momentarily, causing him to lose his balance.  His wooden leg became caught
in the grating of the platform, and his body tottered precariously.  As
Holmes rushed to his side in an effort to rescue him he tumbled over the
side of the platform, grabbing its edge as he fell and gaining a precarious
hold.

Holmes came to his side and extended Bulkington a hand.  “Take my hand.”

“Never.”  Philip Edward Pollard, the Eighth Earl of Bulkington, let his
fingers slip away, one by one, and then he was gone.  His body hit the disk
and then rolled onto the ground.  Guinan ran up to the body and studied it.

Holmes stood.  “Well, Doctor, your opinion?”

“Judging by the fall, and the angle of the head, I would not be surprised
if he has died of a broken neck.”

“Quite so.”

Picard, meanwhile, was examining the rocket.  Holmes and I joined him in
studying the insides, finding within the opening a compartment of some
sort.  “What do you make of it, Picard?” asked Holmes.

“Mister Holmes, he might well have reached orbit with this rocket.
Guidance seems to have been handled mechanically with gyroscopes, and the
walls are sufficiently reinforced to retain air pressure, though how he
might have reentered the atmosphere I have no idea.”

Holmes nodded.

In time we rejoined Guinan and returned to Baker Street.  Our day had been
a long one, and as was our custom, Holmes and I sat reflecting upon the
events of the case.

“Your opinion, Watson?”

“Holmes, with Bulkington dead, it seems likely that England will certainly
be drawn into a closer relationship with the Continent on some basis.  And
with Picard no longer under the threat of law, he is free to do as he
wishes.”

“And what of your plans, Picard?  You are certainly welcome to join us
here.”

“Perhaps in time, Mr. Holmes.  But I must discover if I can how I came to
be here, and the history of Earth, particularly of this time, has always
been of interest to me.  No, Holmes, I think I will take the opportunity to
travel the world, perhaps meet some of the great personages of these times.
To an amateur historian such as myself, this is truly an epic occasion.”

“I see.  You would most likely need a companion on such a journey,
however.”

“True, because your Earth is far different from my own.”

“What of Guinan, then?  She proved an invaluable assistant during my own
travels of a few years back.  And her contributions to the resolution of
this case were significant.”

“And excellent idea,” Picard said.

“I quite agree,” said Guinan.

Come morning Picard and Guinan took their leave, headed for Victoria
Station and their first stop on their world tour.  Holmes and I returned at
noon to the Diogenes Club, presenting Mycroft with a summary of the case.

“So you would say, Sherlock, that Bulkington was most mistaken concerning
the identity of this Jean-Luc Picard?”

“That is the most logical conclusion.  It seems to me that Picard was most
likely an innocent passerby, caught in Bulkington’s web of deceit and
paranoia.”

“You have, I presume, pursued the matter to your complete satisfaction.”

“I believe so, yes.  Picard is hardly a matter worthy of further inquiry.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Holmes,” I interjected.  “What of the rocket?”

Mycroft Holmes stroked his fleshy chin.  “Yes, that is a matter that has
not yet been resolved to Her Majesty’s Government’s satisfaction.  Suffice
to say, there are members of the War Department en route to the warehouse
to take custody of it by the end of the day.  Bulkington’s death will,
naturally, be ruled an accident.  His insanity will be known to no one
outside these walls.”

“And the rocket’s final disposition?” asked Holmes.

“That has not yet been determined.”

Holmes nodded.  The matter was closed.  Holmes and I returned to Baker
Street, whereupon Holmes promptly retired to his bedchamber for a
well-deserved sleep.  And as for myself, I returned that afternoon to my
normal routine at my Paddington practice, the memories of this most unusual
case locked forever away in the recesses of my mind.

And so it happened that several years later Guinan visited me at my Queen
Anne Street practice shortly after Holmes’ retirement to the Sussex Downs.
I had often wondered what had become of her and Picard.  Perhaps Picard had
found a way back to his own time, or perhaps he was stranded forever in the
early years of the twentieth century, assuming some unknown identity and
forever trapped with the knowledge of his former life, a life of which he
would be forever denied.

It was late in the day, my last patient had left short minutes before, and
the last person in the parlor was nondescript save for a most unusual hat.
She stood, and said, “Doctor Watson.”

Her face was familiar, though I could not place it.  “Yes?”

She smiled.  “We met several years ago.  The Bulkington affair.”

“Ah, yes,” I said with recognition.  “Guinan.  How could I have ever
forgotten.”

I took a seat and gestured for her to sit.  “What might I do for you?” I
asked.

“Picard requires Holmes’ assistance, though he is no longer at his Baker
Street address.”

“Holmes is in retirement, my dear.”

“I see,” she said, and she was gone.

Posted in The Next Generation | Tagged , | Leave a comment

The Dark Times Cycle, Episode 1 – ‘Nightfall’

By benrussellgough | Published July 11, 2004

Star Trek – Voyager

The Dark Times Cycle, Episode 1 – ‘Nightfall’

By Ben Russell-Gough

Star Trek – Voyager, and all characters and technologies of the Star Trek universe are the sole property of Paramount Pictures, a division on Viacom Communications. No breach of copyright or trademark rights intended. This is a non-profit work written for the author’s (and the readers’) enjoyment.

Species 704 (The Destroyers) are my work.

The Crew of the Voyager try to solve the problem of getting home, but instead meet up with a terrifying new enemy… The Destroyers!

This story is presented in the form of a screenplay by way of an experiment. Please tell me what you think!

TEASER

SFX – The Voyager is travelling through space at sub-light with a big blocky starship acting as an escort

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, stardate 56888.9. The Voyager is currently travelling through the space of a species known called the Adronai. Although our hosts have been most courteous at every stage, I do feel that we are not truly welcome. I am currently showing the Captain of our Adronai escort around the ship’s facilities as part of our agreement to share our scientific knowledge of this sector.

INT. ASTROMETRICS

While TORRES, SEVEN and KIM work at various consoles, JANEWAY shows an ADRONAI officer around the facility. TUVOK and a SECURITY CREWMAN hover in the background.

JANEWAY

And this is Astrometrics. All the information we gather with our sensors is processed through this facility, creating a map of unparalleled accuracy of the space we travel through.

ADRONAI

Fascinating, Captain. [Sounds bored. When he sees SEVEN, he perks up a bit] And who would you be, my dear?

SEVEN

I am Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix One Zero.

The ADRONAI officer rears back in surprise at this sudden gush of information.

ADRONAI

A Borg? [Looks at Captain Janeway in some surprise] You let a Borg work in your ship’s primary information gathering unit?

JANEWAY

Seven is no longer connected to the Collective, Captain. Over the past few years she has become a trusted part of my crew.

ADRONAI

[Patronisingly, with a sneer] Really, Captain? I must say that your taste in crewmembers has little to recommend it. [He begins to pace around ASTROMETRICS as if he owns it] Everywhere I see non-optimised stations [Rudely shoves KIM aside to gesture at his screen.] No wonder that your people are still so stunted intellectually if you can’t even set a simple mapping facility up correctly.

JANEWAY stiffens in outrage and her smile comes close to becoming a snarl. She is obviously trying to keep her temper

JANEWAY

[Trying to maintain a diplomatic tone] Well, Captain, we try. We have come over 15,000 light years so far, and have over 50,000 light years to go in our voyage home.

ADRONAI

[Sneers again] Well, I wish you good luck, my dear. From what you have shown me so far, you will need it. Now, I believe that you are going to show me the Engineering spaces next. I do hope that you keep it at a better level of efficiency, as I don’t want your ship breaking up on me…

The ADRONAI exits the room, followed by a fuming JANEWAY. TUVOK raises his brow before following. There is a long, stony silence in ASTROMETRICS before Harry KIM starts laughing.

KIM

[Still laughing] Oh, man. This is precious. That guy’s ego makes its own gravity well. Did you see the Captain’s face? Tom tells me that they are ALL like this.

TORRES

[Doing a Klingon slow burn] He’d just better keep clear of me during his ‘tour,’ that’s all I can say.

SEVEN

It is unfortunate that the Captain feels it necessary to indulge the races whose territory we cross. Certainly it reduces our efficiency having to assuage their egos and overcome their paranoid delusions.

TORRES and KIM smile at each other as they listen to SEVEN’s analysis of the situation.

TORRES

Well, in the interests of ‘efficiency,’ Seven, have you found any likely subspace depressions yet?

SEVEN

[Checking sensors] There are several likely spots in an area of generally low subspace integrity by the supernova remnant at 028 mark 111. I will list them in order of subspace distortion in millicochranes.

KIM

I still think this theory is a little, uh, strange, B’Elanna. I mean, using a natural subspace depression as an energy shortcut to building a transwarp gateway? It sounds very dangerous, especially with Subspace so fragile because of Subspace pollution from warp drives.

SEVEN

[Distractedly] There is no such phenomenon, Lieutenant Kim. A regular drop in subspace integrity is part of a natural universal cycle that repeats approximately every 100,000 years.

There is a long leaden pause.

TORRES

[With a touch of acid] I’m sorry Seven, what was that?

SEVEN

[Blinks, shakes her head then faces TORRES, reciting like a student] The integrity of subspace changes in a regular cycle that repeats every 100,217.68 years. The Borg have observed two such cycles. This is the third. Primitive races frequently misinterpret the phenomenon as an artificial effect, due to over-use of warp drives.

KIM and TORRES look at each other. Once again SEVEN turns the face of science upside-down. One of the most pressing problems facing Federation engineering is an illusion.

TORRES

[With elaborate patience] Seven, it would be good in future if you volunteer any relevant information you have on a project.

SEVEN

I apologise, Lieutenant Torres. [Frowns slightly] I cannot explain why I did not think to mention this before.

TORRES shakes her head in disgust and KIM smiles encouragingly. SEVEN pauses for a long moment before continuing. This disturbs her, as she is certainly never ‘forgetful’ or even ‘absent minded.’ Suddenly she hears [FX] the voice of the Collective in her head.

SEVEN

[Quietly] Go away.

The voice grows louder. Suddenly there is a discontinuity. Film the next few shots using bright lighting to generate the ‘dream-like’ quality in DS9’s ‘Visions of the Prophets’.

SEVEN looks up and sees a massive grey-white starship on the main display. It has two long cylindrical hulls with lots of lumps and bumps. At the rear, the hulls flare out into five long ‘spines’ that shoot out perpendicular to the hull and glow blue-white. The fronts are blunt with many projectors, sensors and other glowing bits and five ‘teeth’ sticking forward on either side of the hull.

The voice of the collective grows louder. Seven sees a MONTAGE of nightmare images, the Voyager under heavy attack by similar ships, flame rising from burning cities, a formation of seven ships forming a six-pointed star firing just once. The electric blue beams combine into one bright blast that destroys a world.

SEVEN

[Shouts] No!

TORRES and KIM are looking at her in concern. The images and voices are gone, but she is clearly shaken. Without a word she rushes out of ASTROMETRICS.

FADE.

[New opening to titles] SFX – The Voyager moving at sub light in deep space.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Space: The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Voyager. Her ongoing mission, to find her way home. To cross a galaxy, carrying the dream of exploration beyond the farthest stars. To boldly go where no one has gone before!

Opening titles

ACT 1

INT. CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

JANEWAY is sitting at her desk, nursing a cup of coffee and a headache. [FX] The door chime sounds.

JANEWAY

Enter.

CHAKOTAY enters wearing his patented mischievous smile.

JANEWAY

Go away, Commander. [Smiles slightly at CHAKOTAY’s expression] No, I don’t mean it, get a coffee and pull up a chair.

CHAKOTAY goes to the replicator.

CHAKOTAY

Tea, blend Chakotay Alpha Zero Five.

[FX] Tea replicated. CHAKOTAY walks over to JANEWAY’s desk and sits down. He spends a moment considering the Captain’s expression.

CHAKOTAY

I take it that our ‘guests’ have returned to their ship?

JANEWAY

[Sighs] Yes, and we can proceed without close escort too. To quote Captain D’kargon: “Such a disorderly and ineffective culture does not need close observation.”

CHAKOTAY laughs. JANEWAY gives him a lethal stare.

CHAKOTAY

Well, it seems we have reversed our usual state of affairs. [JANEWAY raises a brow in surprise] Usually we have to put off the curiosity or avarice of younger species like the Kazon. Now we have found a species that does not even think we are worth their time!

JANEWAY

[Grimly] I should be glad we’ve got off so likely, but the attitude of them, Chakotay. We are ahead in dozens of fields, but we aren’t organised to their liking. Hence, we are primitives! [This has obviously offended the good Captain] I swear that I was THIS close [Holds thumb and forefinger and inch apart] from demonstrating how ‘primitives’ react to condescending…

INTERCOM sounds

TORRES (v/o)

Torres to Janeway.

JANEWAY

Go ahead, Lieutenant.

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, you will be glad to hear that Harry and I have found a nearly perfect candidate for our Transwarp experiments. I’d like permission to divert to the co-ordinates and proceed.

JANEWAY

Pass the co-ordinates to Tom, B’Elanna. However, I want to review your procedures again before I give a go-ahead for the experiments.

TORRES (v/o)

Understood, Captain. Torres out.

JANEWAY

[To CHAKOTAY] Well at least something is going right today!

CHAKOTAY smiles slightly and salutes JANEWAY with his cup.

INT. SICKBAY

SEVEN is sitting on the main BIO-BED while THE DOCTOR passes a sensor over her head. She is explaining what has happened to THE DOCTOR

SEVEN

[Continuing] When the experience ended, I determined that I had spent less than point five of a second unconscious. The apparent duration of the incident was much longer, however. As much as sixty seconds.

DOCTOR

[Finishes scanning. Begins to work the controls of his tricorder]. Well, Seven, your experience is not unusual. The humanoid brain processes information several times faster than the senses can gather it. Hallucinatory experiences often occur in such a ‘fast time’ fashion.

The DOCTOR finishes working and smiles warmly as he checks the results.

DOCTOR

Ah! Excellent. You will be glad to know, Seven, that there is no sign of anything untoward. Your neuro-electric readings are normal, as is your neuro-transmitter activity. There is no indication that your Borg implants have become active.

SEVEN

[Nods warily] That is reassuring news, Doctor. However, I would prefer an explanation of my… experience.

DOCTOR

[Shrugs helplessly] I am afraid that I don’t have any data at this time, Seven. I will continue to run tests and I will monitor your neuro-electric activity.

The DOCTOR picks up a sensor and attaches it behind SEVEN’s left ear.

DOCTOR

This monitor will allow me to examine all your cerebral activity. If you have another experience, it will inform me immediately and record your brain activity. Until then, I recommend that you avoid stress and increase the amount of rest you take every cycle.

SEVEN

Thank you Doctor. Given the critical experiments currently in progress, however, I doubt that I will be able to rest as much as you would prefer.

SEVEN leaves SICKBAY without a backward glance

DOCTOR

[To himself in a huff] Why do I bother give recommendations when no one actually listens to them?

INT. ASTROMETRICS

Lieutenants KIM and TORRES are manning various consoles. SEVEN walks in.

KIM

[To Seven] How are you doing, Seven?

SEVEN

I am functioning within normal parameters, Lieutenant Kim. The Doctor is monitoring my neurological activity and will provide further treatment as soon as he has sufficient diagnostic data.

KIM grins at TORRES at this typically Seven of Nine statement.

TORRES

She’s back to normal all right.

SEVEN

[Coldly] Indeed.

SEVEN moves to her preferred console and pulls up a screen of data.

SEVEN

The Voyager is currently holding station near subspace anomaly three-five-nine-seven-tango-yankee-seven.

TORRES

[All business] That’s right. We’re just about to start our preliminary scans.

SEVEN

That is relevant. I will assist you.

The three tech-heads work in silence for a moment. Seven frowns slightly as she notices something.

SEVEN

Lieutenant Kim. Please confirm that this anomaly is exceedingly regular and symmetrical.

KIM

Yeah, we noticed that on our long-range scans. All the better for B’Elanna’s scheme.

SEVEN

There is something about the configuration that I recognise. Something ancient yet important…

TORRES and KIM turn to look at SEVEN with nervous expressions.

TORRES

[Trying to keep her voice steady] What is it Seven?

SEVEN

I am uncertain, Lieutenant Torres. I am feeling… [Pauses, frustrated. She has difficulty in expressing her feelings] I am feeling… anxiety? I am experiencing a clear fear response to this subspace anomaly, yet I cannot determine the source of those fears.

TORRES walks up to SEVEN and touches her on the shoulder. SEVEN virtually jumps out of her skin and turns to face TORRES. She is pale and is obviously throwing fear pheromones off in all directions.

SEVEN

I… [She shakes her head to clear it] The ship is in danger. We must leave this area immediately.

KIM works his console.

KIM

Sensors aren’t picking up anything in this area, Seven. Where is this danger supposed to come from?

SEVEN

I… [Pauses and seems to loose her track] I do not know. This is disturbing. I am no longer experiencing the sensation of danger. Indeed, I cannot explain why I experienced it originally.

TORRES looks genuinely concerned. Once she would have sneered at this show of weakness, but she knows SEVEN too well now to dismiss this out of hand.

TORRES

Is it the Borg?

SEVEN

[Frustrated, almost shouting] I do not know! [Pauses. Her eyes narrow] Yes. The sensations of my earlier hallucinatory experience included the voice of the Collective. The Borg are somehow connected with this anomaly.

KIM

[Grimaces] Kim to Janeway. Captain, we have a problem.

FADE.

ACT 2

SFX – The Voyager holding station. In the distance is the distinctive ring nebula of a supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, Stardate 56890.2. Our investigation into the use of subspace anomalies as a shortcut home has come up against an unexpected problem. Seven of Nine believes that we have stumbled upon some previously unsuspected work of the Borg Collective.

The command crew is meeting to discuss this development.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

JANEWAY is at the head of the table. NEELIX, PARIS, TORRES and KIM are along one side. CHAKOTAY, SEVEN, TUVOK and THE DOCTOR are along the other side. TUVOK is just finishing his comments.

TUVOK

There is no indication of any Borg activity within sensor range. The Adronai assure us that they have not had any Borg incursions into their space for over a century.

JANEWAY

Thank you Mr. Tuvok. [Turns to THE DOCTOR] Doctor, what is your prognosis?

DOCTOR

Seven is in her usual good health, Captain. However, I have been monitoring her since her first blackout in Astrometrics yesterday morning. The results have been quite remarkable.

THE DOCTOR rises and walks to the VIEWSCREEN. It activates with an OKUDAGRAM line graph.

DOCTOR

This diagram shows the recorded activity of Seven’s normal neurological activity. [He touches a button and the OKUDAGRAM scrolls to show a later time period] This is Seven’s neurological activity during her… ah… ‘anxiety attack’ yesterday afternoon. As you can see, there are the normal wave patterns for anxiety, but please notice the Synaptic Establishment activity. [Traces out one remarkably squared-off curve]

KIM

That isn’t an analogue curve, it’s a digital code. It looks more like a record of computer activity.

DOCTOR

Correct Mr. Kim. This anomaly coincides with a sudden burst of activity in Seven’s bio-transceiver implant. [Points out a sudden jump from zero to a series of jagged peaks, then falling back to zero]

SEVEN shifts uncomfortably. Almost subconsciously, she starts to toy with the interface ‘spider’ implant on the back of her right hand. She is obviously frightened at the thought that the Collective is trying to influence her again.

SEVEN

I have not been aware of any contact with the Collective during my experiences.

JANEWAY

[Kindly] And no one is about to start accusing you, Seven. Mr. Kim? [KIM turns to face her] Is there any indication that the Collective has tried to contact Seven?

KIM

No, Captain. We’ve checked all the options, including their trying to mask their signals in subspace radiation bursts again. There is nothing.

JANEWAY

So direct contact is out of the question. What other options are there?

DOCTOR

The most unusual aspect of this is that the activity is confined entirely to the Bio-transceiver itself. There has been no increased production of nanoprobes or even increased activity in any other implant.

TORRES

Could it be a malfunction in the implant?

SEVEN

[A little sharply] I dislike the thought of people thinking of me as malfunctioning equipment. [She suddenly pauses and turns to TORRES] My apologies, Lieutenant, I am clearly suffering from the tension.

TORRES smiles thinly and nods to show she isn’t offended. SEVEN thinks for a moment.

PARIS

A malfunction is the most obvious possibility, though. Remember that Seven is progressively becoming more human. Could her body be rejecting the implant?

DOCTOR

A fine theory, Mr. Paris, [Suddenly smug] but I would have detected increased T-Cell activity.

SEVEN

I believe I know what is happening, although I remain unsure of why. [When everyone is facing her, she continues] The Bio-Transceiver is primarily a communications device. However, its secondary function is to record all instructions and communications received by a Drone. This activity is consistent with an attempt to download copies of previously received instructions into my brain.

There is a long uncomfortable pause as everyone digests this.

NEELIX

I’m sorry, Seven, but I thought you had perfect recall, or a computerised memory or something. Why would you need a copy of previous instructions?

SEVEN

That is the mystery, Mr. Neelix. I have no other memories of the images and sensations I have had during my experiences. Drones do not have information withheld from their minds, so I cannot explain why I have no previous memories of this matter.

CHAKOTAY

[Thoughtfully] Maybe this is a ‘race memory.’

JANEWAY

A what?

CHAKOTAY

A race memory is a theory I heard at a psychological conference I once attended. The basic concept is that we all are born with information about the most fundamental aspects of our species’ nature in our subconscious. These are not ‘learnt’ but ‘pre-loaded’ through our genetics.

DOCTOR

[A little snide] I am familiar with the theory, Commander. Unfortunately, there is no way memory information could be transmitted genetically. ‘Race memory’ is a myth that went out with the whole concept of organisms inheriting behavioural attributes.

NEELIX

[Thoughtfully] But Seven isn’t entirely organic, is she? [He shoots SEVEN an apologetic glance] She is at least fifteen percent machine and computers CAN come with information hidden away in some part of their structure. It stays hidden until it is needed. Could that be what is happening to her? [Looks around] I’m… not making any sense, am I?

KIM

More than you think.

JANEWAY

This is all very interesting, but I am most concerned whether this is a threat to either Seven or the ship.

TUVOK

[Quietly] If this is indeed a subconscious memory stored in the Bio-Transceiver implant rather than Seven’s organic memory, it may be possible to access it through a structured meditation. [Looks at SEVEN] If you are willing?

SEVEN

These experiences are most disturbing. I will be glad to unravel their mystery. [Turns to TORRES] If I can be spared from the current project?

TORRES

There’s nothing that needs your special touch right now, Seven. We can spare you until you’ve sorted out… whatever this is.

JANEWAY seems happy with this solution.

JANEWAY

All right Mr. Tuvok, proceed as soon as Seven is ready. Doctor, I want you to continue monitoring Seven’s neurological activity. I would like to read your report as soon as possible, Tuvok. Dismissed.

ALL rise and begin to leave the room. KIM pauses by SEVEN.

KIM

[With a smile] Don’t let Tuvok tie your superego in knots, Seven.

SEVEN

[Confused] I fail to see… ah, humour. You are trying to alleviate your concern for my safety with a joke. Your concern is noted and appreciated, Mr. Kim.

KIM

[Sighs] Seven, we’ve known each other for almost two years now. I even kid myself that I am your friend. I think that you should have got to the point where you feel comfortable calling me ‘Harry.’

SEVEN

It would be inappropriate to use your given name whilst on duty. [Cocks her head curiously] Do you consider me a… friend?

KIM

Uh, well yes! Of course!

SEVEN

[Smiles slightly] I find such a change in our parameters of association welcome. I would be glad to be your friend Lieut… [stops and considers KIM’s expression] Harry.

SEVEN leaves. PARIS leans over KIM’s shoulder

PARIS

Harry you sly dog, it looks like you’re making progress at last.

KIM

[Goes red] Do you have to drag everything through the gutter, Tom?

KIM storms off. PARIS grins mischievously.

INT. TUVOK’S QUARTERS

The lights of the room are on dim and the only source of illumination is a single Vulcan DEVOTIONAL CANDLE sitting between SEVEN and TUVOK. Our two heroes are sitting cross-legged and eyes closed.

TUVOK

Visualise the flame. The flame is your fundamental self. Each part of the flame represents a thought or feeling.

SEVEN

[Dreamy voice] Yes. I can see it.

TUVOK

Focus on the core of the flame. Inside the light is the darkness. This is the mystery of the inner self.

SEVEN

I understand.

TUVOK

Allow the centre of the flame to draw you in. Tell me what you see.

SEVEN

I see… darkness…

FX – Slow zoom on the black core of the candle flame. In the blackness there are images. Initially, they are blurred and indistinct. As we zoom in closer, the voice of the BORG Collective whispers.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Fearful] I hear the Collective!

TUVOK (v/o)

Do not allow your emotions dominate your perceptions. [Beat] Listen to the message the Collective would give you.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Nervous} I will try.

BORG (v/o)

Danger. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One Zero. Strategic alert.

FX – The images begin to clear. Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW. The flame metamorphosises into…

The vast blue-white spacecraft of SEVEN’s first vision looms forward. Others of a similar, almost insectoid design. All have the basic single or double cylindrical hulls with flank spines either equally spaced around the base (single hull) or in two groups of the same number either side (double hull). The spines have a blue glow in the core. The forward facing ‘fangs’ also have glowing blue cores. Regular bumps and linear plates line the length of the hull

Discontinuity… There is a flash of electric-blue energy weapons-fire from between one ship’s ‘fangs’. A BORG cube is torn apart.

BORG (v/o)

Danger. Do not forget them.

FX – Seven of the largest type (two hulls, a pair of five spines) group into a six-pointed star. They fire ‘Death Star’-style. A world explodes.

BORG (v/o)

The invincible enemy.

FX – Discontinuity… Inside a BORG ship. Four legged, four armed creatures in blue-white armour charge. They swat DRONES aside like skittles and fire electric-blue pulses from black rifle-like weapons held in their upper limbs.

BORG (v/o)

From beyond the furthest stars…

SEVEN (v/o)

[Whispers] No…

FX – Highly stylised images of burning cities echoing with screams, the Voyager tumbling away from an electric blue energy pulse and insectoid armies. A star explodes, consuming an inhabited world (stock footage from ST-Generations?)

Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW.

BORG (v/o)

From beyond the darkness in which the stars shine. Species Seven-Zero-Four.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Stronger] No…

FX – Discontinuity… The Voyager’s BRIDGE, smashed to pieces and ablaze. A crying SEVEN is cradling a blooded and dead (?) KIM.

Discontinuity… SEVEN sees herself standing on the steps of a smashed Federation HQ watching legions of the aliens ships scream over a ruined San Francisco.

Discontinuity… The Voyager attacked by a smaller alien vessel… the Voyager explodes.

Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW, this time boiling around with a sound of shattering glass and exploding stone as if it has struck the viewer…

BORG (v/o)

The Destroyers.

SEVEN

[Screams] No!

SEVEN jumps to her feet and tumbles gracelessly onto her backside with a grunt of pain. The medical MONITOR behind SEVEN’s ear is screaming an alert. TUVOK jumps back to full awareness with a shocked look.

TUVOK

[Dryly] Have you found the information we seek, Seven?

SEVEN

[Shaken] I do not know, Commander. I… [Pauses to take a calming breath] I must take time to consider what I have seen.

The DOCTOR rushes in at this point and walks over to SEVEN with a concerned expression. SEVEN simply looks down at her hands with a preoccupied frown.

FADE

ACT 3

INT. MESS HALL

SEVEN is standing at the counter, chewing thoughtfully on some hot food (no Leola Root, thank the Maker!)

She looks around at a semi-full MESS HALL. JANEWAY and CHAKOTAY are discussing something in a lively fashion, much to the bemusement of TUVOK. PARIS and TORRES are teasing KIM, trying to get him to put down his PADD and concentrate on his meal.

SEVEN

[Quietly] They are my Collective now.

NEELIX

Lost in thought Seven?

SEVEN looks round at NEELIX. He seems genuinely concerned.

SEVEN

The images I saw in meditation were of destruction and disaster for us all. [Beat, looks down at her hands] I fear that I am going mad.

NEELIX

[Concerned] Why?

SEVEN

[Sighs] Much depends on the next few days. The experiment that Lieutenant Torres proposes may open a way home for my friends. It is my fear that it may be the destruction of us all.

NEELIX

Well, warn them. What’s the problem with that?

SEVEN

It is such a nebulous warning, possibly the result of a malfunction or corrupt data… Do I steal their chance for happiness because of my fears? I do not know the way forward. How can I make this choice?

NEELIX

Seven, they are your friends. They trust you. If you genuinely believe that there is something in this warning from your subconscious, then tell them. Even if it is exaggerated or a false alarm, they will still appreciate you. You will still be their friend for all your faults. Your fallibility and your making paradoxical choices are what make you Human.

SEVEN

[Wryly] I could see that as an insult.

NEELIX

[Delighted] See? A joke! You are getting more Human every day, Seven.

SEVEN smiles. She nods to NEELIX and leaves the MESS HALL.

INT. VOYAGER CORRIDOR

SEVEN walks along the corridor, passing several CREWMEN.

NAOMI

Hello, Seven.

SEVEN turns to see NAOMI standing there, grinning up at her with her typical insolent good humour.

SEVEN

[Dryly] Naomi Wildman.

NAOMI

How are you doing Seven? My Mom was saying you’ve been sick!

SEVEN

I am… somewhat recovered, Naomi. Although the Doctor still insists on monitoring my vital signs.

SEVEN moves her head to show the SENSOR attached behind her ear.

NAOMI

[Suitably impressed] Ooh, I bet that tickles!

SEVEN

[Dryly] Tickles… I do not believe so…

NAOMI

[Cocks her head. She seems to be saying to SEVEN “you know better than to try that with me“] Well, I’m glad you are feeling better. Can you visit me to play a game of Dom Jot this evening?

SEVEN

Unfortunately, I cannot. I have to assist with several experiments this evening.

NAOMI

[Grunt] Typical! Well, that’s what you get for being good at everything! [Giggles at the thought] Well, some other time, Seven? [Grins engagingly] I’m sure I can trust you to get things done so you have free time.

NAOMI skips off down the hall.

SEVEN

[Thoughtfully] Trust. A curious concept.

With a sudden sense of determination, SEVEN carries on down the CORRIDOR.

INT. CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

SEVEN and TORRES are sitting in front of JANEWAY’s desk.

JANEWAY

[Obviously finishing her comments] There are no obvious flaws in your procedures, B’Elanna, so you can proceed with the experiments. [Sees SEVEN’s preoccupied expression]. Yes, Seven, you have a comment to make?

SEVEN

Yes, Captain. [Pauses, gathering her thoughts] I do not make this comment lightly, Captain. I agree with Lieutenant Torres that this study remains the Voyager’s best hope for finding a short cut to the Alpha Quadrant. However, my own investigations into my recent experiences have revealed that there may be an unsuspected danger either in the experiment or in this area of space.

JANEWAY

[Shoots TORRES a surprised look] What kind of danger?

SEVEN

[Rueful] I cannot provide many details, Captain, as I do not have them. During my structured meditation, I experienced a detailed sensory hallucination that referred directly to a ‘Species 704,’ who successfully resisted assimilation and nearly devastated the Collective several millennia ago.

TORRES

[Wry] Who or what are ‘Species 704,’ Seven?

SEVEN

Again, I have no details, Lieutenant. My experience only confirmed that they had access to military capabilities broadly equivalent to Species 8472 and that their first appearance is somehow related either to the use of subspace depressions for movement or to this region of space. [To JANEWAY] I am sorry that I cannot offer any more precise data, Captain.

TORRES

I’m sorry, Seven, but where is the usual encyclopaedic knowledge of all things Borg? If the Collective gave this species a number, there should be millions of quads of data on them.

SEVEN

Indeed, there should. In this case, however, there is not. In fact, there is no reference in Borg records to any ‘Species 704.’ This anomaly is incomprehensible.

TORRES draws in a breath but JANEWAY cuts her off before she can make a typically acid comment.

JANEWAY

I have read Tuvok’s report on the structured meditation, Seven. According to him, the images you saw were so traumatic that they caused you to snap out of the trance-state spontaneously. He adds that this is virtually unheard of in Vulcan meditation.

SEVEN

The images included very specific imaginings of the destruction of the Voyager and the conquest of the Alpha Quadrant. The images of the death of the crew were vivid. They were most… disturbing.

TORRES

Captain, Harry has been over the sensor readings every way in the book. Hell, he has even created some new ways and there is NO indication of ANY potential threat related to this area. [Turns to SEVEN] I don’t want to insult you, Seven, but there is simply NO physical proof to back up this warning. I am sure it was a very frightening nightmare, but I don’t see ANY reason to delay our experiment!

SEVEN bridles a little at this and is about to retort. Janeway, who has been sipping meditatively at her coffee, breaks in before there is any further escalation.

JANEWAY

I am afraid B’Elanna is right, Seven. [TORRES smirks. JANEWAY gives her a ‘death stare’] Nonetheless, I am not willing to disregard a considered warning of potential danger. During all stages of the experiment, we will keep checking all sensor readings. If there is anything, anything at all, to indicate a threat to this ship, we will desist at once and leave the area.

TORRES

[Disbelieving] Captain…!

JANEWAY

My decision is final, Lieutenant. [Waits for TORRES to subside] I have conferred with Tuvok, Chakotay and The Doctor. They all agree that these… ‘visions’ are not related to any kind of illness, malfunction or malign telepathic influence. There may be no physical proof, but I am not going to ignore such a vivid experience, especially from such a reliable source. [Shoots SEVEN a little smile]

JANEWAY rises and gestures the other two women to leave the room with her.

JANEWAY

Seven, I want you on the bridge to help monitor the situation. If you have any more ‘premonitions’, I want you to tell me immediately.

SEVEN

Understood, Captain.

JANEWAY, SEVEN and TORRES leave the READY ROOM

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY, SEVEN, and TORRES are entering from the READY ROOM.

TORRES

Captain, I really could use Seven’s help in Engineering. [Pleading slightly] Surely she could monitor the situation from there?

JANEWAY

She could, but I prefer to have her immediately to hand, B’Elanna. She will be more at the centre of things here.

SEVEN

[To TORRES] I shall endeavour to operate at peak efficiency despite my absence from engineering.

TORRES grunts sceptically and scowls. She walks towards the TURBOLIFT. As she passes PARIS, he offers her a wink. This makes her a little happier and she leaves the BRIDGE without a ferocious scowl.

SEVEN

[To JANEWAY, quietly] Thank you for believing in me, Captain.

JANEWAY

[Quietly, with a smile] Trust is a part of friendship, Seven. [More loudly] Stations, people. We’re doing this one by the book.

FADE

ACT 4

F/X The Voyager still hovers before the typical supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, Stardate 56982.1. We are preparing to perform our first experiments at enlarging and controlling a subspace depression. The best case scenario is for a flood of data that will help us create super-efficient quantum slipstreams that will bring us home decades earlier than our wildest expectations. The very worst case scenario… Well, given Seven of Nine’s clear visions… I don’t want to try to imagine what that could be…

INT. BRIDGE. The following crew is present. PARIS, TUVOK and KIM are at their stations. CHAKOTAY is looking at the central console. SEVEN is at the bridge ‘horseshoe’ console. JANEWAY is standing behind Lt. J. G. Samantha WILDMAN at the science station. An unnamed CREWMAN is at the Engineering console and another is behind SEVEN at the Ships’ Operations wall display.

TORRES (v/o)

Engineering to Bridge. Seven, is the deflector dish charged and ready?

SEVEN

The dish is charged Lieutenant, I am ready to monitor feed-back along the subspace pulse.

JANEWAY is obviously satisfied at whatever she has seen on WILDMAN’s console. She walks to stage centre and sits down in her chair.

JANEWAY

Status report, Commander?

CHAKOTAY

All decks and departments report ready, Captain.

JANEWAY nods decisively. She seems tense.

JANEWAY

Tuvok, go to Yellow Alert. [SOUNDS – Yellow Alert siren, yellow tracer lights and buzzer] Mr. Kim, keep an eye on the sensors. Mr. Paris, keep an eye on the space conditions, if navigation gets hazardous, back us off. Lieutenant Torres?

INT. MAIN ENGINEERING

TORRES is at her console. The ENGINEERING CREW all stand at their stations in tense anticipation.

TORRES

Torres here, Captain.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Commence the first low-power subspace pulse when ready, B’Elanna.

TORRES

Aye, Captain. [Turns to CREW] Alright people, look sharp.

There is a BLEEP. TORRES looks down and sees an E-MAIL on her display from PARIS: “They say that ‘there are old engineers and bold engineers but no old and bold engineers.’ The ones who say that have never met you, love.” TORRES grins and enters a series of commands.

TORRES

As Paris says, let’s rock!

F/X – A huge beam of blue-white light shoots out of the VOYAGER’s main deflector. It hits some invisible barrier and spreads out in a pretty light show.

INT. BRIDGE. Everyone is poring over the results of this first experiment.

SEVEN

Seven to Lieutenant Torres. The beam returns are normal. However, the impact point is marginally off target. Modify the beam at x plus 1.0055 degrees, y minus 0.005 degrees.

TORRES (v/o)

[Irritated] I see it, Seven. [Beat] Is this any better?

SEVEN

[Frowns] The error factor is now less than one in one thousand. That is sufficient.

JANEWAY grins at CHAKOTAY as she hears the exchange. SEVEN makes a few more adjustments.

SEVEN

[To JANEWAY] The beam is now calibrated, Captain. We may proceed with the tests on enlarging the depression.

JANEWAY looks at the centre console and looks up to reply to SEVEN. Whatever she was about to say is now lost to history.

KIM

[Alarmed] Captain! I’m reading a transwarp egress at 133 mark 027. It’s a Borg Cruiser-class Sphere!

JANEWAY

Red alert!

LIGHTS and SOUND – Lights dim, red tracer lights begin to shine and the siren begins to hoot.

JANEWAY

B’Elanna, cut off the beam. Tuvok, maximum power to shields. Stand by all weapons!

There is ordered chaos as the BRIDGE CREW quickly performs the evolution to battle stations. It is something of which, unfortunately, they have too much practice.

KIM

The Borg vessel is on a heading directly for the subspace depression, Captain. [Beat] They have scanned us, but don’t seem to be taking much notice. [SOUNDS – HAILING SIGNAL] They’re hailing us.

JANEWAY

I can guess what this is going to be about. Let’s hear it anyway, Lieutenant.

VIEWSCREEN – The Borg Sphere swooping across the screen, the camera tracking it. There is a bleep and the view switches to the typical interior of a BORG vessel (matte painting). The BORG address the crew.

BORG

We are the Borg. You have intruded onto our territorial space. You will withdraw, immediately, or we will annihilate your ship. Resistance is futile.

JANEWAY

[Nonplussed, to CHAKOTAY] Well that was unexpected. [To BORG] This is Captain Katherine Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. We mean you no harm. We are simply performing some scientific experiments.

BORG

Your intentions are irrelevant. You will comply with our demands or we will annihilate you. [Signal cuts off. VIEWSCREEN shows to the SPHERE, now taking up station between the Voyager and the subspace depression]

JANEWAY

[Turns to crew] Suggestions or comments, people?

TUVOK

The appearance of a Borg Cruiser is most unusual, Captain. As you know, they are designed for defensive patrols within Borg space, not assimilation. They are heavily armed, but relatively lightly crewed. I do not believe that we are their target.

CHAKOTAY

Agreed, they want us out of the way, Captain. The question is why?

PARIS

[Concerned] I say the question is “Why are we still here when the Borg have asked us to leave so nicely?”

JANEWAY gives PARIS her ‘death glare.’ PARIS looks back innocently and KIM covers a smile.

KIM

The Borg are scanning the subspace depression with full sensors, Captain. Their shields are at maximum power and their weapons are running hot.

JANEWAY

Are they targeting us?

TUVOK

Negative, Captain. [Does the eyebrow trick] Indeed, the Borg seem to be ignoring us.

SEVEN

The Collective always ignores vessels that are not of immediate interest.

JANEWAY

I find that vaguely insulting.

WILDMAN

Captain, the anomaly!

Everyone swings around to face the VIEWSCREEN.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The ANOMALY is now visible as a blue-green tinged depression against the stars darkening towards the centre. Everyone snaps into action.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN is working at her console. JANEWAY is still in her chair, looking up at her.

SEVEN

Captain, the depression is deepening. Subspace distortion is a 5,250 millicochranes and still rising.

The ship suddenly begins to shudder.

WILDMAN

Captain, there is an awful lot of subspace disruption coming from the anomaly. It’s getting worse by the second.

JANEWAY

Tom, pull us back 20,000 kilometres.

PARIS

Yes Ma’am!

PARIS works his console, but nothing happens, except the quality of the ship’s shuddering changes.

PARIS

This crazy subspace distortion is affecting our impulse engines, Captain. It’s almost as if the engines can’t ‘grip’ space anymore. [Looks up] B’Elanna, can you give me more power?

TORRES (v/o)

I’ll try Tom. I’ve got a few tricks that may improve impulse drive performance in this environment, too.

JANEWAY

Try them, Lieutenant. [Turns to SEVEN] What is the situation, Seven?

SEVEN does not seem to hear. Her normally pale face has gone ghostly white and she is staring at the anomaly on the VIEWSCREEN. Her expression is blank with pure terror.

JANEWAY

[Firmly] Seven! Snap out of it!

SEVEN

[Shakes her head] I’m sorry, Captain. The subspace depression is now showing a distortion of over 100 kilocochranes. [Examines readings with a frown] The readings are similar to the proposed subspace tunnel that was the ultimate goal of our experiments. However, they are thousands of times more powerful.

JANEWAY

[Hopeless and quiet] B’Elanna…?

INT. ENGINEERING

TORRES is working desperately at her console to increase the power to the impulse engines and improve their performance. She seems annoyed that everything is suddenly her fault.

TORRES

Not our doing, Captain. We only used our scanning-intensity beam. Anyway, even if we had used a full-power subspace beam, it would not have created a result even a hundredth of the power of the anomaly.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Could the scanning beam have tripped off this effect?

TORRES

I don’t see how.

TORRES moves to another console. She shoves VORIK aside and makes a few adjustments. It is obviously ineffective as she hits the console in frustration and moves back to her own station.

TORRES

Besides, the numbers are all wrong, Captain. These frequency readings are all inverted. It is almost as if something were coming through from the other side!

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY looks at CHAKOTAY in disbelief. The big Indian’s jaw is slack with disbelief.

JANEWAY

Something coming through from the other side…?

JANEWAY looks at SEVEN. Pure terror has almost paralysed the young woman. She is standing stiffly and holding the console almost hard enough to start to deform its structure.

WILDMAN

Captain, the subspace distortion is going off the top of the scale. Distortion is now greater than a megacochrane. I’ve never even seen a theoretical description of such conditions.

TUVOK

The Borg Sphere is over-charging its weapons systems.

JANEWAY

Who are they targeting?

TUVOK

[Surprised] They are targeting the anomaly.

F/X – The Borg SPHERE fires several emerald-white torpedoes into the anomaly. They flash forward and are torn apart by the massive distortion fields.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM is checking his console, wearing an amazed expression.

KIM

[Amazed} Captain, the Borg are sending an all-frequency distress signal!

Before JANEWAY can react to that, SEVEN suddenly cuts in. Her voice is rough with fear.

SEVEN

Captain, we have to get out of here! NOW!

JANEWAY has already decided on this. Whatever it is that could get a Borg ship sending distress signals, she has no desire to meet it.

JANEWAY

Get us out of here, Mr. Paris. Maximum Warp.

PARIS works his console. Nothing is happening.

JANEWAY

Engineering we need more power!

The shuddering of the ship grows worse.

JANEWAY

B’Elanna, we are not going anywhere! Boost the power levels to maximum tolerance!

INT. ENGINGEERING

The WARP CORE is flashing and flaring brightly. TORRES and an ENSIGN look on aghast. The Voyager is obviously at maximum power and nothing is happening.

INT. BRIDGE

PARIS

It’s no good, Captain; our warp field isn’t generating any propulsive power!

JANEWAY

Engineering, report!

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, the Warp Core is at 115% output now and I don’t like the look of the temperature of our coolant. I can’t give you any more power!

WILDMAN

[Hysterical] Oh my god!

EVERYONE looks at the VIEWSCREEN.

F/X – The centre of the anomaly seems to be stretching away from normal space as if something were pulling it. It now looks like water racing down glowing blue-green hole. At the very ‘bottom,’ there is a bright blue-white glow… Suddenly there is a mighty flare of light from deep within. A spear of energy is sent flaring out from the centre, deep out into space. A vivid blue-white ring shoots away from the perimeter of the anomaly.

INT. BRIDGE

The shock wave throws everyone about.

F/X – As the flare dies away, there is now a deep blue-white vortex leading into a pitch black hole. It is very like the Babylon 5 exit jump point effect. Occasionally, the vortex flares as a ring of energy races up from deep within.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM

[Awed] It’s a… an artificial wormhole! I’ve never seen these power readings before! It could link us to a point billions of light years from here!

WILDMAN

Captain, I’m reading six objects emerging from the… Well, from the ‘super-wormhole,’ or whatever it is. They are definitely artificial.

F/X – The six objects are identical and are travelling along the perimeter of the vortex. When they reach the event horizon, they stop. They are trapezoid-shaped with four long ‘arms’ that hang backwards from each corner. As we watch, the trapezoids move so that their largest face points out of the wormhole. Two arms attached to the long end move to run along the rim of the vortex, while the two from the narrow end lie parallel to the vortex’s walls, pointing towards its black heart. A strong blue-white glow appears from long vents along the length of the arms.

The Borg SPHERE opens fire with everything it’s got: Repulsor beams, disruptors, torpedoes and cutting beams. The objects’ shields absorb everything without even a flicker of strain.

INT. Bridge

PARIS is still fighting the helm as TUVOK examines his console.

TUVOK

The Borg are putting more power into their distress call, Captain. They have fired upon the unidentified artefacts, but their weapons have no visible effect.

PARIS

[Frustrated] Captain, I still can’t make any headway with either Warp or Impulse engines. This distortion field is so scrambling the structure of subspace that our generators can’t affect it. It’s like trying to swim up a waterfall. Our thrusters are the only propulsion system not affected, and they are barely strong enough to keep us from falling down the gravity well of that thing!

JANEWAY

Keep at it, Tom. [She looks at CHAKOTAY. He is using the centre console to co-ordinate some function. His expression is grim] If anyone has any ideas, now is the time.

KIM

If the anomaly and the distortion are somehow related, then we have to generate a powerful subspace pulse, something so big that it drowns out everything else. If that happens, we’ll have a window of a few seconds to get clear.

JANEWAY

How big a pulse are we looking at, Harry?

KIM

Too big, Captain. [His editorialising does obviously not impress JANEWAY] Equivalent to the simultaneous detonation of about a thousand photon torpedoes. The Detonation of our warp core might just be powerful enough.

That is obviously not an option, as JANEWAY’s expression makes quite clear.

TUVOK

Captain, I believe that this wormhole is, indeed, intended to function as an intergalactic conduit. [Quirks an eyebrow] Interesting. The six vessels appear to be generating some form of resonant subspace field that is stabilising this end of the wormhole. [Looks at JANEWAY] While the technology that makes this possible is beyond our ability to reproduce, it is a most efficient way to stabilise such a construct using lower power levels.

Then, as if to prove TUVOK’s point, WILDMAN checks her readings and rears back in shock.

WILDMAN

I’m reading another ship coming through the wormhole, Captain. It is much bigger than those six stabilising generators. I mean much bigger. At least 2 kilometres in length and well over 250 million metric tonnes mass.

JANEWAY

[Nearly a whisper] On screen, Mr. Kim.

SEVEN

[Terrified] Captain, we MUST leave this area! I mean it; this may be our last chance!

EVERYONE’s attention is again fixed on the VIEWSCREEN as the new contact WILDMAN detected begins to emerge.

F/X – We see the Voyager, the warp pylons raised and glowing brightly as the ship struggles to get free of the subspace distortion. The POV rotates past the Borg ship, which has ceased firing for the time being to the wormhole.

Beyond the stabilising generators, the blue-white vortex flows off into infinity, a deep well of black. The occasional power surge still races along its length like spirals of light. From the very centre, a huge object rolls forward that looks like two long, thin cylinders with various sharp projections connected side by side. NOTE – for the first time we get the scale of the anomaly. From WILDMAN’s estimates, it is obvious that the mouth of the wormhole is over 2 miles in diameter.

New POV, looking virtually across the mouth of the wormhole as IT emerges. First are ten forward-facing ‘blades,’ five each side of the cylindrical hull, which taper forward to a blunt end at their fronts. The teeth have flush vents that glow with the same blue light as the generators’ ‘arms.’

The hull continues, melding smoothly into two pairs of five smooth ‘booms,’ each pair spaced equally around the circumference of one of the egg-shaped forward hulls. More blue light glows from various spots and from in between the booms. The booms meld once more into a the two cylindrical hulls that curve smoothly towards the join of the two hulls, ending with two pairs of four claw-like protrusions on the outward-facing surface that glow with the familiar orange-red or impulse power.

The mighty ship slips clear of the wormhole and hovers for a moment, then ten long, graceful spines swing away from the outer hull, five on each outward-facing side of the rear hulls, creating what look like two fans, or possibly something like a solar sailing ship’s masts. These spines end with short, vicious-looking sharp forward-pointing ends. The spines have long vents along their length. They begin to glow with the same blue-white power.

The Borg SPHERE opens fire once again. The ship’s shields, without a flicker, deflect the blasts. Blasts powerful enough to kill a Federation starship with one shot. It is, of course, the ship from SEVEN’s vision.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN

[Verging on the hysterical by now. It makes her voice very quiet, very young…] It’s too late…

TUVOK

I am reading a massive power surge from the alien vessel.

F/X – From in between the ten ‘blades,’ there comes a powerful, pencil-thin beam of blue-white light. The shot reaches out and smashes right into the very centre of the SPHERE. The SPHERE’s running lights go out. What looks like a distortion wave spreads out from the impact point and flows along its hull, causing it to ripple like a wave, until it meets again at the far side of the hull. Then the SPHERE explodes with a massive yellow-white explosion. There is very little wreckage. From impact to explosion, it is all over in less than a tenth of a second.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM is sweating, staring at his rear wall displays.

KIM

Tom, the subspace distortion…

PARIS

I see it, Harry!

F/X – PARIS does not waste time with unnecessary manoeuvres. The VOYAGER swoops forward, right over the alien still poised at the entry to the wormhole, and leaps to high warp. Even though the manoeuvre is fast, it is not fast enough. As the VOYAGER races past, the alien is able to get in one shot. It is not a clean hit, indeed it is only a glancing blow, but it still is almost enough.

INT. BRIDGE

The entire crew is thrown forward by a tremendous concussion. TUVOK’s rear wall displays explode with a bright white flash, throwing him over his console to the deck. The CREWMAN at the Ship’s Status display is also thrown to the deck beside SEVEN.

Bits of the Tactical console rain down and fire burns in the shattered remains. Several overhead ODN trunks in the same area are ruptured and fibre-optic cables create a strangely art-deco background to the fire. The Ship’s Status display begins to flicker

JANEWAY

Trauma Team to the Bridge! I want a full damage report!

CHAKOTAY checks the centre console.

CHAKOTAY

My god!

JANEWAY

What?

CHAKOTAY

That was just a near miss, Captain! A single glancing blow and it still nearly knocked out our shields! Our rear shields are down 67% and our forward shields are down 25%.

There is concussion damage to all decks with sections far to the aft. We will have to evacuate the main shuttlebay, the main doors are shattered and the mag shield generator has been knocked out! We are reading all kinds of damage to the ship’s systems, especially tactical and drive systems.

JANEWAY is amazed and horrified. The medical team arrives and goes to TUVOK and the CREWMAN. JANEWAY turns to them.

JANEWAY

How are they? [She means, ‘How is TUVOK,’ of course]

MEDIC

They are both suffering from concussion, lacerations and severe plasma burns, Ma’am. We’ll get them to sickbay.

SEVEN seems to be recovered from her terrified paralysis. She has an extinguisher and puts out the fire in the wreckage of the Tactical station. She then turns back to her console and touches a few controls.

Two CREWMEN exit the lift and move to assist in repairing the damaged stations.

SEVEN

Captain, I have re-routed Tactical to my console.

JANEWAY

[Wry] Good to have you back, Seven. All right, status report.

PARIS

We are stable at Warp 6 on a course radially away from the wormhole, Captain. Now we are clear, the drive systems are functioning normally.

SEVEN

All weapon systems except Phaser Banks Ten through Thirteen are operational. I have re-enforced the rear shields with power from our forward shields, but I am unable to increase general shield power above 50% of nominal.

TORRES (v/o)

We’re still picking up the pieces down here, Bridge. There are no serious problems I can see, but I’ll have to get back to you.

KIM

[Tense] Captain, we are being pursued. The alien vessel has just come into rear sensor range. They are at Warp 8 and accelerating.

JANEWAY’s jaw goes all square and she seems grim.

JANEWAY

What are our chances, Seven?

SEVEN

[Calmly, but tense too now it is clear it is not over] Very slim, Captain. Our damaged shields could not protect us against another attack. Even if all systems were nominal, we would stand little chance against a Species 704 warship.

JANEWAY

[Quiet] You are certain it is them?

SEVEN

[Grim] I am certain, Captain.

JANEWAY

So, we’re in no condition for another confrontation. All right, Tom. Take us up to maximum warp.

PARIS

Yes, Ma’am [Touches some controls] Warp 7. Warp 8. Warp 8.5…

KIM

[Urgent] Captain, the alien vessel is already at Warp 9 and it is still accelerating.

JANEWAY

[Urgent] Tom, when I said ‘maximum warp’ I meant it!

PARIS

[Concerned] She seems a little sluggish, Captain. [Checks a display] It looks like we took a little more damage to our warp drives than we thought. We’re at Warp 9.2 now.

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, how much warp power do you think you are going to need?

INT. ENGINEERING

The place has seen better days. There are damage control parties and medical teams all over. The WARP CORE seems undamaged, but that could be deceiving. TORRES and CAREY are both standing at the main console, examining the power flow read outs.

JANEWAY (v/o)

How much can you give me, B’Elanna?

TORRES

Not as much as I would like, Ma’am. The concussion of that near miss has damaged both warp plasma feeds. We have the leak under control now, but if we increase the plasma pressure too much, they’ll rupture.

JANEWAY (v/o)

You mean we could loose warp speed?

TORRES

I mean that we could loose most of the ship aft of Section 18, Captain.

JANEWAY (v/o)

[Grim] Well I’d rather blow up than be vaporised, B’Elanna. Take it as far as she can handle, then give me an extra ten-percent on top of that.

TORRES

I’ll do my best, Captain. Try to keep the ride smooth.

JANEWAY (v/o)

No promises, Lieutenant. Janeway out.

TORRES

[To Carey, with a little shake of her head] I don’t know if we are going to make it this time, Bill.

An ENGINEERING CREWMAN shouts to TORRES from the other side of the Core. Torres runs to see the problem, leaving Carey at the main console.

INT. BRIDGE

PARIS is visibly sweating as he tries to coax more power from the damaged starship. JANEWAY is at the aft section, walking between KIM and SEVEN, looking grim.

PARIS

We’re at Warp 9.6, Captain.

JANEWAY

Keep pouring it on, Tom.

PARIS

Yes, Ma’am. All right, we’re at Warp 9.8… Warp 9.9. That’s our maximum rated speed, Captain. The core will SCRAM automatically after 12 hours tops.

KIM

[Grim] Captain, the alien vessel is already at Warp 9.95 and they are still accelerating. There is no indication that their acceleration curve is levelling off.

SEVEN

They will intercept us in thirty minutes at current rates of acceleration.

JANEWAY

[Frustrated] Chief Engineer, we need more speed!

TORRES (v/o)

I’m giving it all we’ve got left, Captain.

There is a sudden sound like a loud bang over the INTERCOM and TORRES is cut off.

JANEWAY

Torres, what’s happening? Torres? [Louder] B’Elanna?

TORRES (v/o)

[Urgent] We’ve just lost one of our primary coolant pumps, Captain. The engines will rip themselves apart at this rate! The plasma conduits are ready to burst!

JANEWAY

Keep on top of it, B’Elanna! Hold those conduits together with your bare hands if you have to, but keep those warp factors coming!

TORRES (v/o)

[Exhausted] I’ll do my best, Ma’am.

JANEWAY walks to the lower level and stands next to PARIS

JANEWAY

How are we doing, Tom?

PARIS

We’re at warp 9.92, and I really don’t like the look of those drive stress dynamics. [Turns to JANEWAY] I don’t think we can take her any higher without shedding our nacelles.

KIM

[Slightly shrill] The alien vessel is at Warp 9.99 and still accelerating!

SEVEN

Interception in 5 minutes, maximum, Captain.

JANEWAY

On screen.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien warship is in the very centre of the screen. Small right now, but getting bigger very quickly.

JANEWAY

Prepare to fire aft torpedoes. Full spread, pattern gamma.

SEVEN

Weapons armed, locked on and ready to fire.

JANEWAY

There’s one last chance to stop this. Mr. Kim, open hailing frequencies.

SEVEN

[Bold] I find it highly unlikely that this course will benefit us. Species 704 has no reason to open communications at this time.

JANEWAY

[Quiet and firm] I didn’t ask you, Seven. [Now sounds angry] Despite your preconceived notions, these people may not be conquest-obsessed berserkers.

SEVEN straightens at her post, reacting as if she has just been slapped.

SOUNDS – Hailing frequencies.

KIM

Hailing frequencies open

JANEWAY

This is Captain Katherine Janeway of the United Federation of Planets starship Voyager to unidentified vessel in pursuit. We are a peaceful vessel on a mission of exploration and wish to avoid hostilities. May we discuss this matter openly?

There is a long pause. There is no reply.

JANEWAY

We are no part of the Borg Collective and have no knowledge of any grievances you may have against cultures in the area of space. Can we at least attempt to avoid needless bloodshed?

Still there is no reply.

KIM

They’re listening, Captain, they’re just not replying.

JANEWAY

[Frustrated, maybe a little desperate] Alien vessel; please state your intentions

SEVEN

Captain, they are scanning us.

F/X – A distortion wave suddenly flashes across the BRIDGE. EVERYONE looks around in disorientation.

SEVEN

It was a full scan. [Beat] Captain, the Species 704 vessel has obtained a missile targeting lock. We will come under attack at any time.

CHAKOTAY

[Grim] They have stated their intentions, all right.

JANEWAY seems defeated. She slumps down into her chair before speaking again.

JANEWAY

Fire torpedoes.

SEVEN responds immediately, touching a single control.

F/X – Three torpedoes spit from both of the Voyager’s rear tubes and flash away through space, rapidly forming a five-pointed star.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN at her station.

SEVEN

Torpedoes away. Weapons running straight, hot and normal.

F/X – The weapons reach the alien warship and detonate against their shields. NOTE – It is a strangely muted detonation, almost as if the torpedoes were not fully armed.

JANEWAY

[Amazed] Seven?

SEVEN

[Checks console] The torpedoes functioned normally, but seemed to disintegrate on impact against their shields. [Amazed] It is almost as if their molecular structure was disrupted. The antimatter seemed to simply… vanish, as if it aged a million years in an instant. Their was only a kinetic impact and their shields are undamaged. The attack was ineffective.

JANEWAY

[Not fazed] Reload and fire again. Set the torpedoes to detonate a few metres short of their shields. We’ll see if we can knock them down.

SEVEN does not hesitate for a second. She performs the required functions and launches the reprogrammed second barrage.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – We see the alien warship. The second five pointed star of torpedoes flashes into view and detonate minutely short of its shields. Six enormous red fireballs blossom out and the alien disappears for a second.

PARIS

[Slight smirk] Eat that, buddy.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien warship emerges untouched. Several Starfleet jaws hit the deck.

SEVEN

The alien shields somehow de-phased all incident energy from the torpedo detonations, reducing the weapons’ effectiveness by over 99%. Sensors detected a momentary point-zero-zero-one percent loss of power in the alien shields.

KIM

[Whispers] That’s impossible!

JANEWAY

Time to interception?

SEVEN

They will be at point-blank range in 150 seconds, Captain. [Beat, a look of inspiration] Captain, I suggest that we alter course to 233 mark 107. This will take us into the shock front of the supernova remnant and reduce the effectiveness of their sensors.

CHAKOTAY

It will also render most of our sensor systems useless, Seven. We can’t fight blind.

SEVEN

[Firm] I do not believe that we can fight them at all, at present.

JANEWAY considers SEVEN’s expression closely. The younger woman radiates certainty and it is enough. The Captain nods decisively.

JANEWAY

You heard the lady, Tom, new heading 233 mark 107, maintain maximum warp.

PARIS

Aye aye, Captain!

The ship begins to shudder

JANEWAY

Engineering, what is happening down there?

TORRES (v/o)

I’m sorry Captain, but I can’t give you much more. The warp core is overheating and the plasma conduits are shaking themselves apart.

JANEWAY

[Grim] I will only need another three minutes, B’Elanna, one way or another.

TORRES (v/o)

[Horrified] Yes, Ma’am!

F/X – Small clumps of nebulosity and patterns of distortion from the supernova remnant fill our view. The Voyager races past, deeper into the remnant at full power. After a few seconds, with the Voyager dwindling into the distance, the alien ship also races past with an unearthly banshee-like scream.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM

Captain, the hostile vessel somehow turned inside our manoeuvre! Intercept now in ninety seconds!

JANEWAY

I don’t understand why they haven’t fired yet.

CHAKOTAY

[Bitter] They probably want to gloat. You know, see the looks of terror on our faces before they finish us…

SEVEN

Unlikely, Commander. It is more probable that Species 704 is deliberately prolonging this engagement to determine our strengths, weaknesses and tactical behaviour. We are, after all, an unfamiliar culture to them.

F/X – The alien ship at high warp. It fires a single blue-white torpedo, a little like a quantum torpedo in appearance but brighter. Our POV tracks the torpedo as it races past towards the distant Voyager.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN’s console begins to beep loudly. Seven freezes for a second before reporting.

SEVEN

Species 704 has opened fire. A single missile is approaching at approximately Warp 9.999. Impact in 30 seconds.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien torpedo is moving fast towards the bottom of the screen.

SEVEN

Sensors indicate that the weapon has some form of artificial singularity for a warhead.

JANEWAY’s jaw drops open.

JANEWAY

Now that is what I call overkill. Mr. Kim, begin jamming. Mr. Paris, commence evasive…

SEVEN

[Interrupts] That will be useless, Captain. [Excited] I can defeat this attack but I must have total computer control!

KIM

Impact in fifteen seconds. [Beat] Jamming has no effect; weapon is still locked on and homing. Impact in ten seconds…

JANEWAY

Do it Seven. [To INTERCOM] All hands, brace for impact!

SEVEN extends her ASSIMILATION TUBULES, which punch into her console. She closes her eyes and concentrates on becoming one with the ship’s computer systems.

KIM

Impact in five seconds. Four… three… two… Torpedo impact… NOW!

F/X – There is a massive blue-white explosion that sends the VOYAGER tumbling end over end. The starship’s lights go out and glowing red deuterium fuel begins to spill from the ship’s bussard ram-scoops.

INT. BRIDGE

The explosion sends EVERYONE flying about the compartment. Several consoles spit sparks. The Engineering console explodes, incinerating the luckless CREWMAN stationed there. KIM is thrown hard against his console. He pulls himself up just as the display explodes, spraying him with plastic shards and sparks. He is flung back and tumbles to the deck, his face a mass of bruises and cuts. The lights go out and the only source of illumination is the fires in the tactical and engineering consoles.

F/X – The VOYAGER is still tumbling end-over-end, apparently dead. The glowing deuterium vapour generates an eerie shroud around the ship. Around her are the wisps of nebulae and distortion waves from the supernova remnant. There are several bright flashes from within the vapour, as if something were flashing spontaneously into flame.

INT. BRIDGE

The emergency blue lights underneath the stair tread light up, as do a few other dim emergency lights. The control displays flicker weakly. There is a groan as JANEWAY pulls herself onto her knees and looks around the darkened, burning bridge.

JANEWAY

[Nonplussed] I don’t believe it! We’re alive!

SEVEN

[Whispers] Captain, shh! Their sensors will detect the reverberation of speech. I have already signalled silent running.

JANEWAY looks around at SEVEN, who is cradling a semi-conscious KIM in her lap. The Captain nods decisively and touches CHAKOTAY on the shoulder, signalling him to lie still. His chair has bent forward, tipping him unceremoniously onto the deck.

F/X – The alien warship hovers above the cloud of deuterium gas, now mingling with the supernova remnant’s nebulosity. The huge warship hovers silently for a long moment, as if contemplating its work. Suddenly, it quickly rotates 100 degrees to the left. It’s ten spines retract and it accelerates forward very fast. As it reaches the middle distance, it seems to plunge through space, surrounded by a bright white light. It disappears with a white flash [The TNG – Descent Transwarp effect].

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN gently lies KIM’s head on the deck, rises and examines her controls. She audibly sighs with relief and touches a control. The lights slowly come up to about 50% of normal illumination. The displays become steady. Vent fans begin to suck away the smoke from the fires and the automatic extinguishers activate.

SEVEN

I’ve detected a transwarp ingress. They are gone.

JANEWAY

[With a hiss of discomfort as she rises] Stations, people. I want a full damage report.

EVERONE is picking themselves off the floor. PARIS manipulates the Helm controls (he stabilises the ship). JANEWAY moves to help KIM, who is pulling himself to his feet. CHAKOTAY moves to the CREWMAN who sat at Engineering. He is beyond help. CHAKOTAY sighs, closes the man’s eyes and looks away. KIM is standing and he moves to his battered console. The forward console is out, but the rear wall displays are working.

SEVEN

[Absently] Harry, you are damaged. You should rest.

KIM

I’ll live, Seven. My brain is still working and we need to get working NOW or, according to these readings, we might have to abandon ship!

EVERYONE looks at KIM as the import of his report sinks in.

FADE

ACT 5

F/X – The VOYAGER stabilises and its running and internal lights come back on.

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY stands in the centre of the BRIDGE as reports begin to trickle in. The impact knocked most ship’s systems off-line, but the damage is more cosmetic than serious. CHAKOTAY has replaced KIM at Ops. The young Lieutenant is doubtless now in Sickbay.

JANEWAY

That was an interesting trick, Seven. What exactly did you do?

SEVEN

I over-charged our rear deflectors and shaped the field to create what would appear to the sensors on the graviton torpedo to be the ship’s hull. The shield pulse also absorbed over 75% of the detonation energy. I then shut down all ship’s systems and vented deuterium and antimatter to simulate the destruction of the Voyager. In the low-sensor efficiency environment of the supernova remnant, it was enough to shield us from Species 704’s scans.

JANEWAY smiles slightly and nods in approval of SEVEN’s initiative. CHAKOTAY looks up from Ops.

CHAKOTAY

A ‘Play Dead’ manoeuvre worthy of the Maquis, Seven. Well done.

SEVEN

The Borg found it was the only tactic small vessels could use to avoid a graviton torpedo attack.

There is a long pause before JANEWAY speaks again.

JANEWAY

Seven, you said that Borg records did not contain any details of Species 704.

SEVEN

[Frowns] They do not Captain. [Beat] The tactic simply appeared in my consciousness. It is possibly another download from my bio-transceiver chip.

TORRES (v/o)

Wherever it came from it saved our lives, Seven. Unfortunately it also knocked main power, most of the Electro-Plasma System network and all the ship’s shield generators off line. I’ll need your help to put them back together.

JANEWAY

Get going, Seven. [Looks around] I want a full meeting of all senior staff in six hours time. We’ll discuss these events then. Until then, we have a ship to save.

F/X – The Voyager is still hovering within the scattered nebulosity of the supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, stardate 56988.5, six hours after the attack. After four hours of the most urgent repairs, we are no longer in any immediate danger of loosing the Voyager.

MONTAGE – VOYAGER CORRIDOR. JANEWAY is pacing along the corridor, skirting around a REPAIR TEAM who have opened a wall panel and are fixing some damaged system.

MONTAGE – MAIN ENGINEERING. TORRES, CAREY and VORIK are working on several exploded consoles in the atrium. TORRES is giving orders to VORIK, who nods and walks away.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Engineering has now restored main power and the ship’s systems are beginning to function normally again. With the immediate pressure off the crew, shock is beginning to set in. The sheer brutality and overwhelming power of this new species has left everyone amazed.

MONTAGE – ASTROMETRICS. SEVEN and JENNY DELANEY are inputting information into the main console, while two CREWMEN shore up one of the vertical supports. DELANEY, whose right arm is in a sling and has a bandage on her forehead, is talking fast and excitedly, much to SEVEN’s patent bemusement.

MONTAGE – BRIDGE. CHAKOTAY and KIM are discussing something as KIM works on repairing his console. A CREWMAN walks past carrying a coil of ODN cable.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Mercifully, casualties have been light. There was only one fatality: Crewman Joel Stanford was killed when the bridge engineering station exploded. Nonetheless, over a quarter of the crew are currently under The Doctor’s tender care.

MONTAGE – SICKBAY. The DOCTOR and PARIS are working on a badly burnt ENGINEERING CREWWOMAN on the main BIO BED. A round dozen other patients are either on the other beds, or sitting on the floor, wrapped in thermal blankets.

JANEWAY (v/o)

It is a mercy that our Red Alert protocols include automatically transferring The Doctor to his Mobile Emitter. If he had gone off-line along with the other primary systems, we would have lost a lot more of our people.

MONTAGE – MESS HALL, acting as an auxiliary infirmary. NEELIX and a MEDIC are handing out food and help to the wounded, while a grim JANEWAY paces through, occasionally talking to a crewmember and smiling in an attempt to bolster morale. She has a slight limp, but has obviously refused treatment until the DOCTOR has seen to the rest of the crew.

JANEWAY (v/o)

I have summoned a meeting of the senior staff. I hope that, working together; we can determine what, if anything, we can do next.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM.

A battered-looking JANEWAY is sitting at the head of the table, drinking a coffee and looking like she would rather be asleep. TUVOK sits to her left. He has a large bandage on the side of his face and wears a meditative expression.

The DOOR opens and the DOCTOR and PARIS walks in. The DOCTOR shoots JANEWAY a worried look.

DOCTOR

Captain, I expect to see you in Sickbay after the meeting.

JANEWAY

[Weak smile] I’ll try to find the time, Doctor.

The DOCTOR snorts and takes a seat to her LEFT. PARIS watches with bemusement. The door opens again and TORRES walks in. Grease and burns cover her uniform and she looks like she has just gone three rounds with a garbage compactor. PARIS smiles and drapes an arm over her shoulder. She leans on him gratefully and allows him to lead her to a seat table to the Captain’s left.

KIM and CHAKOTAY enter talking about the repair schedules. CHAKOTAY gives JANEWAY a worried look, making her smile. If she does not go to SICKBAY willingly, she has no doubt that her First Officer will throw her over his shoulder and carry her there.

The last to arrive are SEVEN and NEELIX

NEELIX

Thanks for helping out in the Mess Hall, Seven.

SEVEN

You are welcome, Mr. Neelix.

NEELIX sits to the Captain’s right. SEVEN remains standing by the door. She seems distracted.

JANEWAY

I’m sure you all know why we are here. Let’s start with a full status report.

There is a long pause while JANEWAY waits for someone to go first. Finally, TORRES draws the short straw.

TORRES

We’ve finally got the Warp Plasma Conduits repaired, Captain. Lt. Carey tells me that we should have the EPS system running at 80% efficiency within the next hour.

JANEWAY

Only 80 percent, B’Elanna?

TORRES

Unfortunately. [Sighs] The gravitational pulse from that alien torpedo destabilised the pressure balances throughout the entire system. We’ll have to make do until we can finish recalibrating all the flow sensors on the network.

JANEWAY

Keep on it, B’Elanna. If you need any more hands, tell me. What about propulsion, Mr. Paris?

PARIS

[Seems to jump at the question] Ah, all drive systems are running according to the shipyard specifications, Captain. I would take any warp manoeuvres slowly until we have time to calibrate the subspace field generators.

CHAKOTAY

What’s the problem, Tom?

PARIS

[Easy going smile] It’s just a precaution after being hit by that enormous gravity well. I want to be sure of the generators in actual operation rather than simulation before trying anything too dramatic.

JANEWAY

That will be your first priority, Tom. I want all ship’s systems reliable before we face those creatures again.

KIM

Ah, Captain, about that matter…

EVERYONE turns to look at KIM, who begins to shift uneasily under the scrutiny.

KIM

Do we have the right to get involved with this? [Uncomfortable pause] I mean this seems a perfect Prime Directive situation. We aren’t at war with these people. We aren’t even from this part of the galaxy. Whatever they want it probably doesn’t involve us. We should just leave the area and let nature take its course.

KIM winces at the looks everyone is giving him. TUVOK finally breaks the silence.

TUVOK

Mr. Kim seems to make a valid point.

JANEWAY

Yes he does [Reassuring ‘Mum’ smile] And normally I’d agree with him. This is not a typical situation, however. Species 704, that’s their Borg designation, refused to respond to an attempt at communication. They continued to attack, although we told them that we weren’t from this quadrant. I suspect that they will attack any space vessel they encounter. We will have to face them eventually. I prefer to do it on our own terms and at our own time.

There is a long thoughtful pause before JANEWAY continues.

JANEWAY

How is our tactical situation, Mr. Tuvok?

TUVOK

All weapons systems are on line. However, Lt. Torres informs me that it will be another 6 hours before we have full shielding capacity back.

JANEWAY looks at TORRES for an explanation.

TORRES

[Sits up nervously] That’s right, Captain. Seven’s timely idea might have kept us alive, but it also burnt out the subspace solenoids in all our shield generators. We’re replacing them as fast as we can.

TUVOK

In any case, the utility of our tactical systems against the recorded capabilities of this new species is questionable. We expended twelve photon torpedoes for infinitesimal gains and a near miss from the aliens’ main weapons nearly disabled our shields. I doubt that our phasers will perform any better against this threat.

JANEWAY

[Nods thoughtfully] Yes, we are outgunned at the moment. [Turns to SEVEN] Seven, can you access the hidden Borg files on Species 704 and determine if the Borg found any weaknesses in their tactical systems we can exploit?

SEVEN does not seem to be listening. She has moved over to the side of the main screen. She almost appears to be daydreaming.

JANEWAY

Seven, I asked you a question.

No reply. SEVEN stays in almost a catatonic state.

JANEWAY

[Concerned] Seven are you alright?

SEVEN slowly turns to look at JANEWAY, her expression blank, her lips quirked in a sneer of superiority. Nightmarishly, a flare of red laser light flashes out from her prosthetic eye and scans the Captain.

SEVEN

[Slowly, mechanically] We… are no longer… the one you call ‘Seven of Nine.’ We… are the Borg.

There is chaos. TUVOK jumps to his feet, pointing his phaser at SEVEN. CHAKOTAY is a second behind, interposing himself between SEVEN and JANEWAY, pointing his own phaser at SEVEN. The DOCTOR and NEELIX dive out of SEVEN’s reach. The medical MONITOR behind SEVEN’s ear begins to shriek its warning.

SEVEN looks around at the forest of phasers now pointed at her before continuing.

SEVEN

We mean you no harm. We have merely appropriated this former Drone to relay information you will require to survive.

The DOCTOR begins to scan SEVEN with his Tricorder

DOCTOR

This isn’t the Collective, Captain. There are no subspace communications activity, no increased activity in her implants. The readings of Seven’s neurological activity are like her previous hallucinatory experiences.

JANEWAY

[Outraged] Whoever you are, you have appropriated my crewman’s body without her permission. I demand that you release her immediately.

SEVEN

[Lots of electronic overtones] Your friend will come to no harm from our actions, Captain Katherine Janeway. She is a conduit to allow us to communicate, no more.

JANEWAY

Who are you?

SEVEN

We are a warning implanted into each successive generation. A warning of a terrible mistake made so long ago implanted not in the mind but into the most fundamental aspect of our collective self so that we may never forget.

CHAKOTAY

An electronic ‘race memory.’ [Puzzled] What mistake do you refer to?

SEVEN

Species 704. Our greatest failure, the result of the first mistake: [Beat] arrogance. Now they are your greatest threat.

With a blur of motion, SEVEN whirls and stabs her ASSIMILATION TUBULES into the viewscreen’s controls. Everyone jumps and KIM pulls out his Tricorder. He starts scanning.

TUVOK

What is she doing?

KIM

[Amazed] She’s injecting reengineering nano-probes into the viewscreen. They’re turning it into… a holo-projector!

SEVEN

It is more suitable for our needs.

As the crew look on an image forms above the table (F/X). Our POV zooms on the image and it becomes an F/X sequence.

F/X – Near a class-M planet, three Borg CUBES fly through space.

SEVEN (v/o)

Two hundred thousand years before this time, the Borg were already a mighty race, dominating much of the area you now call the ‘Delta Quadrant.’

F/X – The CUBES swing away from the planet and head off into space at high warp speed.

SEVEN (v/o)

We had assimilated hundreds of races; brought order to thousands of worlds. Many younger races regarded us as gods or demons. In our arrogance, the Collective began to agree with this assessment. We determined that we were greater and above all other things. This was our greatest fault.

Like many other races, we detected the first signs of the periodic reduction in subspace integrity. At first, we were alarmed, seeing the end of our great empire of worlds, but soon we assimilated the knowledge transwarp travel. This taught us that the changes were simply a natural universal cycle. In our arrogance, we did not realise that if we could use reduced subspace integrity to travel further at transwarp speeds, so could others.

F/X – The Cubes drop out of warp and join large flight of other CUBES and SPHERES surrounding a large planet. Doubtless they are there to assimilate some luckless species.

SEVEN (v/o)

We heard the first cries of distress from species in an area of particularly low subspace integrity, but we ignored them. What ever could threaten the scuttling small things inhabiting the galaxy could never harm the might Borg. So we continued oblivious… until it is too late.

F/X – The POV swings around. Behind the Borg flotilla, there are a series of flashes as ships drop out of transwarp. In moments, it is clear that they are DESTROYER warships of various types. Pencil-thin blue beams and bright pulses of electric blue energy smash into the Borg vessels, which fall quickly and with a minimum of resistance.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Who are they?

SEVEN (v/o)

They are the antithesis of all you value, Captain. They are anti-life. They are ancient, older than the oldest known civilisation of this galaxy, and are possessed of technologies that defy the laws of physics. They believe only they have the right to rule this universe, and that all other life forms exist only to serve them. In their own corner of the universe, they are the masters of trillions of worlds, the overlords of billions of races. They hold hundreds of galaxies in their sway. They are conquerors of worlds, destroyers of civilisations.

F/X – MONTAGE – DESTROYER warships fighting Borg vessels in deep space. Seven DESTROYER warships in a star formation, firing ‘Death Star-style’ to blow up a planet. Massive ground vehicles exchanging fire with a Borg ground facility.

SEVEN

We designated them ‘Species 704,’ but as time went on, we gave them a name that fits their purpose. They are The Destroyers.

F/X – A Borg flotilla engages a squadron of DESTROYER warships head on near a class-M planet. An immense firefight eventually renders the planet a fiery wasteland. Despite using incredibly powerful weapons, the Borg looses the battle decisively.

SEVEN

Despite our mightiest efforts, the Destroyers totally resisted assimilation. They drove us back, world by world, smashing our civilisation. Other races, too, fell before their advance.

F/X – Another septet of DESTROYER warships smashes a Borg planet (use the one from Scorpion, Part 1). All the CUBES in the area flee. DESTROYER ships catch and destroy some of them.

PARIS (v/o)

Very dramatic, but explain why the Collective still exists if these ‘Destroyers’ were so powerful.

SEVEN (v/o)

We learnt that we were no better than any other race. In desperation, facing our final defeat, we joined with the mightiest races of our galaxy and managed to hold the Destroyers back.

F/X – Borg vessels flying in formation with ships from many other cultures (use any imaginative designs you like). They race forward and manage to kill a small squadron of DESTROYER vessels. The allies suffer heavy losses in the battle.

SEVEN (v/o)

Working with these others, we realised the Destroyers’ one weakness. They relied on a single artificial wormhole to connect us with their home territories. Destroy that link and you defeat their invasion.

F/X – An amazing battle near a wormhole like the one we saw only a few scenes ago. Ships of all kinds throw themselves at Destroyer warships, ramming them if necessary. Finally, a blazing CUBE manages to reach the wormhole. It rams a stabilising generator and the impact destroys both. The wormhole remains steady for a moment, then finally collapses, destroying the other five generators.

KIM (v/o)

Wow!

SEVEN (v/o)

Although we had won the war, the enemy still won many further battles. In the time the wormhole existed, the Destroyers moved hundreds of thousands of warships into our galaxy and suborned entire systems to construct others. These refugees were powerful enough to strike deep into our territory and extract a horrible revenge.

F/X – Seven Destroyer battleships do their planet-killer routine.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Sadly] So died the homeworld of Species 1, the Borg. With our central nexus destroyed, the Collective almost collapsed. It took us over 180 millennia to rebuild our empire and again start assimilating species. [Darkly] In that time, we learnt that the Destroyers had returned, 100,000 years after the Great War. A race called the Iconians fought them and drove them away, but the price was their civilisation.

F/X – MONTAGE – Images of archaeology, including Iconian, T’kon, Promellian and unidentifiable artefacts. Each artefact disappears in flame and we see a Destroyer spacecraft firing at unseen targets.

SEVEN (v/o)

Nine times in the last million years, the Destroyers invaded our galaxy, seeking to extend their empire. Nine times, they were driven back at a nightmarish cost.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The HOLOGRAM disappears. SEVEN retracts her TUBULES and faces the room once more

CHAKOTAY

Then this is [beat] the tenth host?

SEVEN

[Cocks her head] Yes. The religious implications are relevant. This time, they appear to have learnt their lesson. There is no great civilisation to face them in the region around their wormhole. They can build up their numbers undisturbed before moving to widen their conquests.

SEVEN looks around the table, looking each character in the eye.

SEVEN

The Collective has again fallen into the trap of arrogance. Even now they withdraw their ships to their core worlds, thinking to ride out this dark invasion. Consequently, you are the only people aware of the true nature of this threat and have the means to act against it.

Do not believe you can avoid this conflict. If the Destroyers are not stopped while their forces are still weak, then they will not be stopped.

SEVEN looks directly at JANEWAY

SEVEN

The Voyager is the last hope for galactic civilisation. The Destroyers must be stopped before they can build up their forces to too great a strength. If they are not stopped quickly, then they will not be stopped at all. You must act or the light of civilisation will be snuffed out forever beneath the darkness of their tyranny. You must stop them, Captain! You MUST…

SEVEN’s eyes suddenly roll back into her head and she collapses in a heap. EVERYONE jumps forward at once. The DOCTOR runs his medical scanner around SEVEN’s head.

DOCTOR

Her synaptic establishment activity has gone off the scale! [Adjusts his Tricorder] Her body is rejecting the Bio-Transceiver Chip. [Turns to PARIS] Alert Sickbay and get ready for emergency surgery!

SEVEN’s eyes flicker open and she looks around worriedly.

SEVEN

[Weakly] My head hurts…

KIM

[Kindly, but worried] Hold on, Seven. The Doctor will look after you.

SEVEN

[Eyes closing again] Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll be alright…

POV on SEVEN’s face and pulling back and up, out of the BRIEFING ROOM. THE DOCTOR supervises PARIS and KIM as they lift SEVEN onto a hover-stretcher just brought in by a MEDIC. As they wheel her away, JANEWAY turns to CHAKOTAY. The Captain is holding herself as if to ward off the cold.

JANEWAY

[Whispers] Now what?

CHAKOTAY

[Gently] I guess we go to war.

FADE

MONTAGE of various departments including ENGINEERING, ASTROMETRICS, the BRIG, SICKBAY and the SHUTTLEBAY with the crew standing, watching monitors. The monitors are showing edited highlights of SEVEN’s show-and-tell, along with plenty of images of the Destroyers’ power. MONTAGE ends with JANEWAY on the BRIDGE, watching the highlights conclude on the main viewscreen. When the program ends, JANEWAY addresses the crew.

JANEWAY

So, there you have it. We are at war. This isn’t a war any of us wanted or expected, but it is a war we must fight nonetheless. If the Destroyers are not beaten while their presence in our galaxy is still small, then we have virtually no hope of stopping them from overrunning every civilisation in the galaxy, [Quiet, but clear] including the Federation.

JANEWAY begins to walk around the BRIDGE, passing the various SENIOR OFFICERS and smiling at them reassuringly. It is like her speech at the beginning of the voyage home.

JANEWAY

[Firm] I won’t lie to you. We are alone out here. We must somehow forge an alliance out of the squabbling civilisations of this sector to fight the Destroyers and somehow destroy their passage to our galaxy from theirs. [Beat] We have one advantage. Before it failed, Seven of Nine’s Bio-Transceiver Chip downloaded into her memory everything the Borg learned about the Destroyers during their war 200,000 years ago. Perhaps, somewhere in that information there is the vital clue that can win this struggle.

JANEWAY smiles at SEVEN, who nods gravely, sensible of the immense weight on her shoulders.

JANEWAY

[Rousingly] The Borg may be trying to sit out of this one, but we have proven ourselves their equal time and time again. This is it, people: the time you keep on reading about in the history texts. This is the moment that will define future history for millennia to come. Either we win this war [beat, gravely] or the future ends, here and now.

JANEWAY looks around at her senior officers, her crew, her friends, the only family she is ever likely to have.

JANEWAY

I will just say this. [Proud] I have never served with a finer, more capable, more professional or more courageous crew. Time and time again, we have done the impossible. [Mischievous] So, let’s do it again! [Firm] I know that you will continue to do the highest traditions of Starfleet, and me, proud. Janeway out.

The CREW scatter to their stations. JANEWAY sits in her chair, straight and proud, much to CHAKOTAY’s approval.

JANEWAY

Signal yellow alert. [LIGHTS and SOUNDS – Yellow Alert] All departments, status reports.

PARIS

All drive systems operational. Full manoeuvrability is available in all flight modes.

TUVOK

All weapons and shielding systems operational. Targeting sensors are at optimum efficiency. All combat teams are armed and standing by.

TORRES (v/o)

Main power fully available. Secondary power is on immediate standby. Auxiliary generators are ready. All batteries are charged.

WILDMAN

All sensor systems read green. Once we are clear of the supernova remnant, all sensors will be at maximum efficiency.

SEVEN

Borg modifications to power and tactical systems read nominal. Hull auto-regeneration nano-probes are armed and ready.

KIM

All stations read manned. Stand-by and emergency crews all ready.

JANEWAY

[Proud] Good. Mr. Paris: set course 042 mark 067, ahead Warp 4 until we clear the supernova remnant, then decelerate to Warp 1. Lt. Wildman, prepare for full sensor sweep.

The CREW reply with the appropriate “Aye, Captain,” making JANEWAY smile.

F/X – The voyager leaps to warp speed away from the supernova remnant.

INT. BRIDGE

WILDMAN checks the sensors as the ship races forward.

KIM

We are clearing the worst of the interference, Ma’am.

JANEWAY

[Rising] Slow to Warp 1, Mr. Paris. Lt. Wildman, begin sweep with passive sensors only.

WILDMAN

Commencing sensor sweep. [Pause] Damn!

JANEWAY walks over to WILDMAN’s station.

JANEWAY

What is it Sam?

WILDMAN

It looks like our playmate has called his friends. There are at least thirty Destroyer vessels detectable to passive sensors, all surrounding the anomaly.

JANEWAY

[Wry] Well, I wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.

CHAKOTAY

So I suppose we go about building an alliance.

KIM

[Urgent] Captain! I am picking up an all-frequency distress call. Captain, it’s the Adronai. They say they’re under attack by ships that match known Destroyer designs.

JANEWAY

[Firm] Mr. Paris, alter course for the Adronai homeworld and accelerate to Warp 9.6. Let’s hope we can make a difference.

F/X – The Voyager accelerates away and vanishes into the distance

CONTINUITY

To be continued, next time on Star Trek – Voyager!

In Conclusion…

So, what do you think? Should I continue, or desist in wasting my time on this pap? J

Feedback? Ooh, yes! I crave it at BenRG@RGFlat.freeserve.co.uk

Star Trek – Voyager

Episode 626 – ‘Nightfall’

By Ben Russell-Gough

Star Trek – Voyager, and all characters and technologies of the Star Trek universe are the sole property of Paramount Pictures, a division on Viacom Communications Incorporated.

Species 704 (The Destroyers) are my work. All rights reserved.

TEASER

SFX – The Voyager is travelling through space at sub-light with a big blocky starship acting as an escort

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, star date 56888.9. The Voyager is currently travelling through the space of a species known called the Adronai. Although our hosts have been most courteous at every stage, I do feel that we are not truly welcome. I am currently showing the Captain of our Adronai escort around the ship’s facilities as part of our agreement to share our scientific knowledge of this sector.

INT. ASTROMETRICS

While TORRES, SEVEN and KIM work at various consoles, JANEWAY shows an ADRONAI officer around the facility. TUVOK and a SECURITY CREWMAN hover in the background.

JANEWAY

And this is Astrometrics. All the information we gather with our sensors is processed through this facility, creating a map of unparalleled accuracy of the space we travel through.

ADRONAI

Fascinating, Captain. [Sounds bored. When he sees SEVEN, he perks up a bit] And who would you be, my dear?

SEVEN

I am Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix One Zero.

The ADRONAI officer rears back in surprise at this sudden gush of information.

ADRONAI

A Borg? [Looks at Captain Janeway in some surprise] You let a Borg work in your ship’s primary information gathering unit?

JANEWAY

Seven is no longer connected to the Collective, Captain. Over the past few years she has become a trusted part of my crew.

ADRONAI

[Patronisingly, with a sneer] Really, Captain? I must say that your taste in crewmembers has little to recommend it. [He begins to pace around ASTROMETRICS as if he owns it] Everywhere I see non-optimised stations [Rudely shoves KIM aside to gesture at his screen.] No wonder that your people are still so stunted intellectually if you can’t even set a simple mapping facility up correctly.

JANEWAY stiffens in outrage and her smile comes close to becoming a snarl. She is obviously trying to keep her temper

JANEWAY

[Trying to maintain a diplomatic tone] Well, Captain, we try. We have come over 15,000 light years so far, and have over 50,000 light years to go in our voyage home.

ADRONAI

[Sneers again] Well, I wish you good luck, my dear. From what you have shown me so far, you will need it. Now, I believe that you are going to show me the Engineering spaces next. I do hope that you keep it at a better level of efficiency, as I don’t want your ship breaking up on me…

The ADRONAI exits the room, followed by a fuming JANEWAY. TUVOK raises his brow before following. There is a long, stony silence in ASTROMETRICS before Harry KIM starts laughing.

KIM

[Still laughing] Oh, man. This is precious. That guy’s ego makes its own gravity well. Did you see the Captain’s face? Tom tells me that they are ALL like this.

TORRES

[Doing a Klingon slow burn] He’d just better keep clear of me during his ‘tour,’ that’s all I can say.

SEVEN

It is unfortunate that the Captain feels it necessary to indulge the races whose territory we cross. Certainly it reduces our efficiency having to assuage their egos and overcome their paranoid delusions.

TORRES and KIM smile at each other as they listen to SEVEN’s analysis of the situation.

TORRES

Well, in the interests of ‘efficiency,’ Seven, have you found any likely subspace depressions yet?

SEVEN

[Checking sensors] There are several likely spots in an area of generally low subspace integrity by the supernova remnant at 028 mark 111. I will list them in order of subspace distortion in millicochranes.

KIM

I still think this theory is a little, uh, strange, B’Elanna. I mean, using a natural subspace depression as an energy shortcut to building a transwarp gateway? It sounds very dangerous, especially with Subspace so fragile because of Subspace pollution from warp drives.

SEVEN

[Distractedly] There is no such phenomenon, Lieutenant Kim. A regular drop in subspace integrity is part of a natural universal cycle that repeats approximately every 100,000 years.

There is a long leaden pause.

TORRES

[With a touch of acid] I’m sorry Seven, what was that?

SEVEN

[Blinks, shakes her head then faces TORRES, reciting like a student] The integrity of subspace changes in a regular cycle that repeats every 100,217.68 years. The Borg have observed two such cycles. This is the third. Primitive races frequently misinterpret the phenomenon as an artificial effect, due to over-use of warp drives.

KIM and TORRES look at each other. Once again SEVEN turns the face of science upside-down. One of the most pressing problems facing Federation engineering is an illusion.

TORRES

[With elaborate patience] Seven, it would be good in future if you volunteer any relevant information you have on a project.

SEVEN

I apologise, Lieutenant Torres. [Frowns slightly] I cannot explain why I did not think to mention this before.

TORRES shakes her head in disgust and KIM smiles encouragingly. SEVEN pauses for a long moment before continuing. This disturbs her, as she is certainly never ‘forgetful’ or even ‘absent minded.’ Suddenly she hears [FX] the voice of the Collective in her head.

SEVEN

[Quietly] Go away.

The voice grows louder. Suddenly there is a discontinuity. Film the next few shots using bright lighting to generate the ‘dream-like’ quality in DS9’s ‘Visions of the Prophets’.

SEVEN looks up and sees a massive grey-white starship on the main display. It has two long cylindrical hulls with lots of lumps and bumps. At the rear, the hulls flare out into five long ‘spines’ that shoot out perpendicular to the hull and glow blue-white. The fronts are blunt with many projectors, sensors and other glowing bits and five ‘teeth’ sticking forward on either side of the hull.

The voice of the collective grows louder. Seven sees a MONTAGE of nightmare images, the Voyager under heavy attack by similar ships, flame rising from burning cities, a formation of seven ships forming a six-pointed star firing just once. The electric blue beams combine into one bright blast that destroys a world.

SEVEN

[Shouts] No!

TORRES and KIM are looking at her in concern. The images and voices are gone, but she is clearly shaken. Without a word she rushes out of ASTROMETRICS.

FADE.

[New opening to titles] SFX – The Voyager moving at sub light in deep space.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Space: The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Voyager. Her ongoing mission, to find her way home. To cross a galaxy, carrying the dream of exploration beyond the farthest stars. To boldly go where no one has gone before!

Opening titles

ACT 1

INT. CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

JANEWAY is sitting at her desk, nursing a cup of coffee and a headache. [FX] The door chime sounds.

JANEWAY

Enter.

CHAKOTAY enters wearing his patented mischievous smile.

JANEWAY

Go away, Commander. [Smiles slightly at CHAKOTAY’s expression] No, I don’t mean it, get a coffee and pull up a chair.

CHAKOTAY goes to the replicator.

CHAKOTAY

Tea, blend Chakotay Alpha Zero Five.

[FX] Tea replicated. CHAKOTAY walks over to JANEWAY’s desk and sits down. He spends a moment considering the Captain’s expression.

CHAKOTAY

I take it that our ‘guests’ have returned to their ship?

JANEWAY

[Sighs] Yes, and we can proceed without close escort too. To quote Captain D’kargon: “Such a disorderly and ineffective culture does not need close observation.”

CHAKOTAY laughs. JANEWAY gives him a lethal stare.

CHAKOTAY

Well, it seems we have reversed our usual state of affairs. [JANEWAY raises a brow in surprise] Usually we have to put off the curiosity or avarice of younger species like the Kazon. Now we have found a species that does not even think we are worth their time!

JANEWAY

[Grimly] I should be glad we’ve got off so likely, but the attitude of them, Chakotay. We are ahead in dozens of fields, but we aren’t organised to their liking. Hence, we are primitives! [This has obviously offended the good Captain] I swear that I was THIS close [Holds thumb and forefinger and inch apart] from demonstrating how ‘primitives’ react to condescending…

INTERCOM sounds

TORRES (v/o)

Torres to Janeway.

JANEWAY

Go ahead, Lieutenant.

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, you will be glad to hear that Harry and I have found a nearly perfect candidate for our Transwarp experiments. I’d like permission to divert to the co-ordinates and proceed.

JANEWAY

Pass the co-ordinates to Tom, B’Elanna. However, I want to review your procedures again before I give a go-ahead for the experiments.

TORRES (v/o)

Understood, Captain. Torres out.

JANEWAY

[To CHAKOTAY] Well at least something is going right today!

CHAKOTAY smiles slightly and salutes JANEWAY with his cup.

INT. SICKBAY

SEVEN is sitting on the main BIO-BED while THE DOCTOR passes a sensor over her head. She is explaining what has happened to THE DOCTOR

SEVEN

[Continuing] When the experience ended, I determined that I had spent less than point five of a second unconscious. The apparent duration of the incident was much longer, however. As much as sixty seconds.

DOCTOR

[Finishes scanning. Begins to work the controls of his tricorder]. Well, Seven, your experience is not unusual. The humanoid brain processes information several times faster than the senses can gather it. Hallucinatory experiences often occur in such a ‘fast time’ fashion.

The DOCTOR finishes working and smiles warmly as he checks the results.

DOCTOR

Ah! Excellent. You will be glad to know, Seven, that there is no sign of anything untoward. Your neuro-electric readings are normal, as is your neuro-transmitter activity. There is no indication that your Borg implants have become active.

SEVEN

[Nods warily] That is reassuring news, Doctor. However, I would prefer an explanation of my… experience.

DOCTOR

[Shrugs helplessly] I am afraid that I don’t have any data at this time, Seven. I will continue to run tests and I will monitor your neuro-electric activity.

The DOCTOR picks up a sensor and attaches it behind SEVEN’s left ear.

DOCTOR

This monitor will allow me to examine all your cerebral activity. If you have another experience, it will inform me immediately and record your brain activity. Until then, I recommend that you avoid stress and increase the amount of rest you take every cycle.

SEVEN

Thank you Doctor. Given the critical experiments currently in progress, however, I doubt that I will be able to rest as much as you would prefer.

SEVEN leaves SICKBAY without a backward glance

DOCTOR

[To himself in a huff] Why do I bother give recommendations when no one actually listens to them?

INT. ASTROMETRICS

Lieutenants KIM and TORRES are manning various consoles. SEVEN walks in.

KIM

[To Seven] How are you doing, Seven?

SEVEN

I am functioning within normal parameters, Lieutenant Kim. The Doctor is monitoring my neurological activity and will provide further treatment as soon as he has sufficient diagnostic data.

KIM grins at TORRES at this typically Seven of Nine statement.

TORRES

She’s back to normal all right.

SEVEN

[Coldly] Indeed.

SEVEN moves to her preferred console and pulls up a screen of data.

SEVEN

The Voyager is currently holding station near subspace anomaly three-five-nine-seven-tango-yankee-seven.

TORRES

[All business] That’s right. We’re just about to start our preliminary scans.

SEVEN

That is relevant. I will assist you.

The three tech-heads work in silence for a moment. Seven frowns slightly as she notices something.

SEVEN

Lieutenant Kim. Please confirm that this anomaly is exceedingly regular and symmetrical.

KIM

Yeah, we noticed that on our long-range scans. All the better for B’Elanna’s scheme.

SEVEN

There is something about the configuration that I recognise. Something ancient yet important…

TORRES and KIM turn to look at SEVEN with nervous expressions.

TORRES

[Trying to keep her voice steady] What is it Seven?

SEVEN

I am uncertain, Lieutenant Torres. I am feeling… [Pauses, frustrated. She has difficulty in expressing her feelings] I am feeling… anxiety? I am experiencing a clear fear response to this subspace anomaly, yet I cannot determine the source of those fears.

TORRES walks up to SEVEN and touches her on the shoulder. SEVEN virtually jumps out of her skin and turns to face TORRES. She is pale and is obviously throwing fear pheromones off in all directions.

SEVEN

I… [She shakes her head to clear it] The ship is in danger. We must leave this area immediately.

KIM works his console.

KIM

Sensors aren’t picking up anything in this area, Seven. Where is this danger supposed to come from?

SEVEN

I… [Pauses and seems to loose her track] I do not know. This is disturbing. I am no longer experiencing the sensation of danger. Indeed, I cannot explain why I experienced it originally.

TORRES looks genuinely concerned. Once she would have sneered at this show of weakness, but she knows SEVEN too well now to dismiss this out of hand.

TORRES

Is it the Borg?

SEVEN

[Frustrated, almost shouting] I do not know! [Pauses. Her eyes narrow] Yes. The sensations of my earlier hallucinatory experience included the voice of the Collective. The Borg are somehow connected with this anomaly.

KIM

[Grimaces] Kim to Janeway. Captain, we have a problem.

FADE.

ACT 2

SFX – The Voyager holding station. In the distance is the distinctive ring nebula of a supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, Stardate 56890.2. Our investigation into the use of subspace anomalies as a shortcut home has come up against an unexpected problem. Seven of Nine believes that we have stumbled upon some previously unsuspected work of the Borg Collective.

The command crew is meeting to discuss this development.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

JANEWAY is at the head of the table. NEELIX, PARIS, TORRES and KIM are along one side. CHAKOTAY, SEVEN, TUVOK and THE DOCTOR are along the other side. TUVOK is just finishing his comments.

TUVOK

There is no indication of any Borg activity within sensor range. The Adronai assure us that they have not had any Borg incursions into their space for over a century.

JANEWAY

Thank you Mr. Tuvok. [Turns to THE DOCTOR] Doctor, what is your prognosis?

DOCTOR

Seven is in her usual good health, Captain. However, I have been monitoring her since her first blackout in Astrometrics yesterday morning. The results have been quite remarkable.

THE DOCTOR rises and walks to the VIEWSCREEN. It activates with an OKUDAGRAM line graph.

DOCTOR

This diagram shows the recorded activity of Seven’s normal neurological activity. [He touches a button and the OKUDAGRAM scrolls to show a later time period] This is Seven’s neurological activity during her… ah… ‘anxiety attack’ yesterday afternoon. As you can see, there are the normal wave patterns for anxiety, but please notice the Synaptic Establishment activity. [Traces out one remarkably squared-off curve]

KIM

That isn’t an analogue curve, it’s a digital code. It looks more like a record of computer activity.

DOCTOR

Correct Mr. Kim. This anomaly coincides with a sudden burst of activity in Seven’s bio-transceiver implant. [Points out a sudden jump from zero to a series of jagged peaks, then falling back to zero]

SEVEN shifts uncomfortably. Almost subconsciously, she starts to toy with the interface ‘spider’ implant on the back of her right hand. She is obviously frightened at the thought that the Collective is trying to influence her again.

SEVEN

I have not been aware of any contact with the Collective during my experiences.

JANEWAY

[Kindly] And no one is about to start accusing you, Seven. Mr. Kim? [KIM turns to face her] Is there any indication that the Collective has tried to contact Seven?

KIM

No, Captain. We’ve checked all the options, including their trying to mask their signals in subspace radiation bursts again. There is nothing.

JANEWAY

So direct contact is out of the question. What other options are there?

DOCTOR

The most unusual aspect of this is that the activity is confined entirely to the Bio-transceiver itself. There has been no increased production of nanoprobes or even increased activity in any other implant.

TORRES

Could it be a malfunction in the implant?

SEVEN

[A little sharply] I dislike the thought of people thinking of me as malfunctioning equipment. [She suddenly pauses and turns to TORRES] My apologies, Lieutenant, I am clearly suffering from the tension.

TORRES smiles thinly and nods to show she isn’t offended. SEVEN thinks for a moment.

PARIS

A malfunction is the most obvious possibility, though. Remember that Seven is progressively becoming more human. Could her body be rejecting the implant?

DOCTOR

A fine theory, Mr. Paris, [Suddenly smug] but I would have detected increased T-Cell activity.

SEVEN

I believe I know what is happening, although I remain unsure of why. [When everyone is facing her, she continues] The Bio-Transceiver is primarily a communications device. However, its secondary function is to record all instructions and communications received by a Drone. This activity is consistent with an attempt to download copies of previously received instructions into my brain.

There is a long uncomfortable pause as everyone digests this.

NEELIX

I’m sorry, Seven, but I thought you had perfect recall, or a computerised memory or something. Why would you need a copy of previous instructions?

SEVEN

That is the mystery, Mr. Neelix. I have no other memories of the images and sensations I have had during my experiences. Drones do not have information withheld from their minds, so I cannot explain why I have no previous memories of this matter.

CHAKOTAY

[Thoughtfully] Maybe this is a ‘race memory.’

JANEWAY

A what?

CHAKOTAY

A race memory is a theory I heard at a psychological conference I once attended. The basic concept is that we all are born with information about the most fundamental aspects of our species’ nature in our subconscious. These are not ‘learnt’ but ‘pre-loaded’ through our genetics.

DOCTOR

[A little snide] I am familiar with the theory, Commander. Unfortunately, there is no way memory information could be transmitted genetically. ‘Race memory’ is a myth that went out with the whole concept of organisms inheriting behavioural attributes.

NEELIX

[Thoughtfully] But Seven isn’t entirely organic, is she? [He shoots SEVEN an apologetic glance] She is at least fifteen percent machine and computers CAN come with information hidden away in some part of their structure. It stays hidden until it is needed. Could that be what is happening to her? [Looks around] I’m… not making any sense, am I?

KIM

More than you think.

JANEWAY

This is all very interesting, but I am most concerned whether this is a threat to either Seven or the ship.

TUVOK

[Quietly] If this is indeed a subconscious memory stored in the Bio-Transceiver implant rather than Seven’s organic memory, it may be possible to access it through a structured meditation. [Looks at SEVEN] If you are willing?

SEVEN

These experiences are most disturbing. I will be glad to unravel their mystery. [Turns to TORRES] If I can be spared from the current project?

TORRES

There’s nothing that needs your special touch right now, Seven. We can spare you until you’ve sorted out… whatever this is.

JANEWAY seems happy with this solution.

JANEWAY

All right Mr. Tuvok, proceed as soon as Seven is ready. Doctor, I want you to continue monitoring Seven’s neurological activity. I would like to read your report as soon as possible, Tuvok. Dismissed.

ALL rise and begin to leave the room. KIM pauses by SEVEN.

KIM

[With a smile] Don’t let Tuvok tie your superego in knots, Seven.

SEVEN

[Confused] I fail to see… ah, humour. You are trying to alleviate your concern for my safety with a joke. Your concern is noted and appreciated, Mr. Kim.

KIM

[Sighs] Seven, we’ve known each other for almost two years now. I even kid myself that I am your friend. I think that you should have got to the point where you feel comfortable calling me ‘Harry.’

SEVEN

It would be inappropriate to use your given name whilst on duty. [Cocks her head curiously] Do you consider me a… friend?

KIM

Uh, well yes! Of course!

SEVEN

[Smiles slightly] I find such a change in our parameters of association welcome. I would be glad to be your friend Lieut… [stops and considers KIM’s expression] Harry.

SEVEN leaves. PARIS leans over KIM’s shoulder

PARIS

Harry you sly dog, it looks like you’re making progress at last.

KIM

[Goes red] Do you have to drag everything through the gutter, Tom?

KIM storms off. PARIS grins mischievously.

INT. TUVOK’S QUARTERS

The lights of the room are on dim and the only source of illumination is a single Vulcan DEVOTIONAL CANDLE sitting between SEVEN and TUVOK. Our two heroes are sitting cross-legged and eyes closed.

TUVOK

Visualise the flame. The flame is your fundamental self. Each part of the flame represents a thought or feeling.

SEVEN

[Dreamy voice] Yes. I can see it.

TUVOK

Focus on the core of the flame. Inside the light is the darkness. This is the mystery of the inner self.

SEVEN

I understand.

TUVOK

Allow the centre of the flame to draw you in. Tell me what you see.

SEVEN

I see… darkness…

FX – Slow zoom on the black core of the candle flame. In the blackness there are images. Initially, they are blurred and indistinct. As we zoom in closer, the voice of the BORG Collective whispers.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Fearful] I hear the Collective!

TUVOK (v/o)

Do not allow your emotions dominate your perceptions. [Beat] Listen to the message the Collective would give you.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Nervous} I will try.

BORG (v/o)

Danger. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One Zero. Strategic alert.

FX – The images begin to clear. Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW. The flame metamorphosises into…

The vast blue-white spacecraft of SEVEN’s first vision looms forward. Others of a similar, almost insectoid design. All have the basic single or double cylindrical hulls with flank spines either equally spaced around the base (single hull) or in two groups of the same number either side (double hull). The spines have a blue glow in the core. The forward facing ‘fangs’ also have glowing blue cores. Regular bumps and linear plates line the length of the hull

Discontinuity… There is a flash of electric-blue energy weapons-fire from between one ship’s ‘fangs’. A BORG cube is torn apart.

BORG (v/o)

Danger. Do not forget them.

FX – Seven of the largest type (two hulls, a pair of five spines) group into a six-pointed star. They fire ‘Death Star’-style. A world explodes.

BORG (v/o)

The invincible enemy.

FX – Discontinuity… Inside a BORG ship. Four legged, four armed creatures in blue-white armour charge. They swat DRONES aside like skittles and fire electric-blue pulses from black rifle-like weapons held in their upper limbs.

BORG (v/o)

From beyond the furthest stars…

SEVEN (v/o)

[Whispers] No…

FX – Highly stylised images of burning cities echoing with screams, the Voyager tumbling away from an electric blue energy pulse and insectoid armies. A star explodes, consuming an inhabited world (stock footage from ST-Generations?)

Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW.

BORG (v/o)

From beyond the darkness in which the stars shine. Species Seven-Zero-Four.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Stronger] No…

FX – Discontinuity… The Voyager’s BRIDGE, smashed to pieces and ablaze. A crying SEVEN is cradling a blooded and dead (?) KIM.

Discontinuity… SEVEN sees herself standing on the steps of a smashed Federation HQ watching legions of the aliens ships scream over a ruined San Francisco.

Discontinuity… The Voyager attacked by a smaller alien vessel… the Voyager explodes.

Discontinuity… A hole in the stars, a ball of flame shoots from it right at our POINT OF VIEW, this time boiling around with a sound of shattering glass and exploding stone as if it has struck the viewer…

BORG (v/o)

The Destroyers.

SEVEN

[Screams] No!

SEVEN jumps to her feet and tumbles gracelessly onto her backside with a grunt of pain. The medical MONITOR behind SEVEN’s ear is screaming an alert. TUVOK jumps back to full awareness with a shocked look.

TUVOK

[Dryly] Have you found the information we seek, Seven?

SEVEN

[Shaken] I do not know, Commander. I… [Pauses to take a calming breath] I must take time to consider what I have seen.

The DOCTOR rushes in at this point and walks over to SEVEN with a concerned expression. SEVEN simply looks down at her hands with a preoccupied frown.

FADE

ACT 3

INT. MESS HALL

SEVEN is standing at the counter, chewing thoughtfully on some hot food (no Leola Root, thank the Maker!)

She looks around at a semi-full MESS HALL. JANEWAY and CHAKOTAY are discussing something in a lively fashion, much to the bemusement of TUVOK. PARIS and TORRES are teasing KIM, trying to get him to put down his PADD and concentrate on his meal.

SEVEN

[Quietly] They are my Collective now.

NEELIX

Lost in thought Seven?

SEVEN looks round at NEELIX. He seems genuinely concerned.

SEVEN

The images I saw in meditation were of destruction and disaster for us all. [Beat, looks down at her hands] I fear that I am going mad.

NEELIX

[Concerned] Why?

SEVEN

[Sighs] Much depends on the next few days. The experiment that Lieutenant Torres proposes may open a way home for my friends. It is my fear that it may be the destruction of us all.

NEELIX

Well, warn them. What’s the problem with that?

SEVEN

It is such a nebulous warning, possibly the result of a malfunction or corrupt data… Do I steal their chance for happiness because of my fears? I do not know the way forward. How can I make this choice?

NEELIX

Seven, they are your friends. They trust you. If you genuinely believe that there is something in this warning from your subconscious, then tell them. Even if it is exaggerated or a false alarm, they will still appreciate you. You will still be their friend for all your faults. Your fallibility and your making paradoxical choices are what make you Human.

SEVEN

[Wryly] I could see that as an insult.

NEELIX

[Delighted] See? A joke! You are getting more Human every day, Seven.

SEVEN smiles. She nods to NEELIX and leaves the MESS HALL.

INT. VOYAGER CORRIDOR

SEVEN walks along the corridor, passing several CREWMEN.

NAOMI

Hello, Seven.

SEVEN turns to see NAOMI standing there, grinning up at her with her typical insolent good humour.

SEVEN

[Dryly] Naomi Wildman.

NAOMI

How are you doing Seven? My Mom was saying you’ve been sick!

SEVEN

I am… somewhat recovered, Naomi. Although the Doctor still insists on monitoring my vital signs.

SEVEN moves her head to show the SENSOR attached behind her ear.

NAOMI

[Suitably impressed] Ooh, I bet that tickles!

SEVEN

[Dryly] Tickles… I do not believe so…

NAOMI

[Cocks her head. She seems to be saying to SEVEN “you know better than to try that with me“] Well, I’m glad you are feeling better. Can you visit me to play a game of Dom Jot this evening?

SEVEN

Unfortunately, I cannot. I have to assist with several experiments this evening.

NAOMI

[Grunt] Typical! Well, that’s what you get for being good at everything! [Giggles at the thought] Well, some other time, Seven? [Grins engagingly] I’m sure I can trust you to get things done so you have free time.

NAOMI skips off down the hall.

SEVEN

[Thoughtfully] Trust. A curious concept.

With a sudden sense of determination, SEVEN carries on down the CORRIDOR.

INT. CAPTAIN’S READY ROOM

SEVEN and TORRES are sitting in front of JANEWAY’s desk.

JANEWAY

[Obviously finishing her comments] There are no obvious flaws in your procedures, B’Elanna, so you can proceed with the experiments. [Sees SEVEN’s preoccupied expression]. Yes, Seven, you have a comment to make?

SEVEN

Yes, Captain. [Pauses, gathering her thoughts] I do not make this comment lightly, Captain. I agree with Lieutenant Torres that this study remains the Voyager’s best hope for finding a short cut to the Alpha Quadrant. However, my own investigations into my recent experiences have revealed that there may be an unsuspected danger either in the experiment or in this area of space.

JANEWAY

[Shoots TORRES a surprised look] What kind of danger?

SEVEN

[Rueful] I cannot provide many details, Captain, as I do not have them. During my structured meditation, I experienced a detailed sensory hallucination that referred directly to a ‘Species 704,’ who successfully resisted assimilation and nearly devastated the Collective several millennia ago.

TORRES

[Wry] Who or what are ‘Species 704,’ Seven?

SEVEN

Again, I have no details, Lieutenant. My experience only confirmed that they had access to military capabilities broadly equivalent to Species 8472 and that their first appearance is somehow related either to the use of subspace depressions for movement or to this region of space. [To JANEWAY] I am sorry that I cannot offer any more precise data, Captain.

TORRES

I’m sorry, Seven, but where is the usual encyclopaedic knowledge of all things Borg? If the Collective gave this species a number, there should be millions of quads of data on them.

SEVEN

Indeed, there should. In this case, however, there is not. In fact, there is no reference in Borg records to any ‘Species 704.’ This anomaly is incomprehensible.

TORRES draws in a breath but JANEWAY cuts her off before she can make a typically acid comment.

JANEWAY

I have read Tuvok’s report on the structured meditation, Seven. According to him, the images you saw were so traumatic that they caused you to snap out of the trance-state spontaneously. He adds that this is virtually unheard of in Vulcan meditation.

SEVEN

The images included very specific imaginings of the destruction of the Voyager and the conquest of the Alpha Quadrant. The images of the death of the crew were vivid. They were most… disturbing.

TORRES

Captain, Harry has been over the sensor readings every way in the book. Hell, he has even created some new ways and there is NO indication of ANY potential threat related to this area. [Turns to SEVEN] I don’t want to insult you, Seven, but there is simply NO physical proof to back up this warning. I am sure it was a very frightening nightmare, but I don’t see ANY reason to delay our experiment!

SEVEN bridles a little at this and is about to retort. Janeway, who has been sipping meditatively at her coffee, breaks in before there is any further escalation.

JANEWAY

I am afraid B’Elanna is right, Seven. [TORRES smirks. JANEWAY gives her a ‘death stare’] Nonetheless, I am not willing to disregard a considered warning of potential danger. During all stages of the experiment, we will keep checking all sensor readings. If there is anything, anything at all, to indicate a threat to this ship, we will desist at once and leave the area.

TORRES

[Disbelieving] Captain…!

JANEWAY

My decision is final, Lieutenant. [Waits for TORRES to subside] I have conferred with Tuvok, Chakotay and The Doctor. They all agree that these… ‘visions’ are not related to any kind of illness, malfunction or malign telepathic influence. There may be no physical proof, but I am not going to ignore such a vivid experience, especially from such a reliable source. [Shoots SEVEN a little smile]

JANEWAY rises and gestures the other two women to leave the room with her.

JANEWAY

Seven, I want you on the bridge to help monitor the situation. If you have any more ‘premonitions’, I want you to tell me immediately.

SEVEN

Understood, Captain.

JANEWAY, SEVEN and TORRES leave the READY ROOM

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY, SEVEN, and TORRES are entering from the READY ROOM.

TORRES

Captain, I really could use Seven’s help in Engineering. [Pleading slightly] Surely she could monitor the situation from there?

JANEWAY

She could, but I prefer to have her immediately to hand, B’Elanna. She will be more at the centre of things here.

SEVEN

[To TORRES] I shall endeavour to operate at peak efficiency despite my absence from engineering.

TORRES grunts sceptically and scowls. She walks towards the TURBOLIFT. As she passes PARIS, he offers her a wink. This makes her a little happier and she leaves the BRIDGE without a ferocious scowl.

SEVEN

[To JANEWAY, quietly] Thank you for believing in me, Captain.

JANEWAY

[Quietly, with a smile] Trust is a part of friendship, Seven. [More loudly] Stations, people. We’re doing this one by the book.

FADE

ACT 4

F/X The Voyager still hovers before the typical supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, Stardate 56982.1. We are preparing to perform our first experiments at enlarging and controlling a subspace depression. The best case scenario is for a flood of data that will help us create super-efficient quantum slipstreams that will bring us home decades earlier than our wildest expectations. The very worst case scenario… Well, given Seven of Nine’s clear visions… I don’t want to try to imagine what that could be…

INT. BRIDGE. The following crew is present. PARIS, TUVOK and KIM are at their stations. CHAKOTAY is looking at the central console. SEVEN is at the bridge ‘horseshoe’ console. JANEWAY is standing behind Lt. J. G. Samantha WILDMAN at the science station. An unnamed CREWMAN is at the Engineering console and another is behind SEVEN at the Ships’ Operations wall display.

TORRES (v/o)

Engineering to Bridge. Seven, is the deflector dish charged and ready?

SEVEN

The dish is charged Lieutenant, I am ready to monitor feed-back along the subspace pulse.

JANEWAY is obviously satisfied at whatever she has seen on WILDMAN’s console. She walks to stage centre and sits down in her chair.

JANEWAY

Status report, Commander?

CHAKOTAY

All decks and departments report ready, Captain.

JANEWAY nods decisively. She seems tense.

JANEWAY

Tuvok, go to Yellow Alert. [SOUNDS – Yellow Alert siren, yellow tracer lights and buzzer] Mr. Kim, keep an eye on the sensors. Mr. Paris, keep an eye on the space conditions, if navigation gets hazardous, back us off. Lieutenant Torres?

INT. MAIN ENGINEERING

TORRES is at her console. The ENGINEERING CREW all stand at their stations in tense anticipation.

TORRES

Torres here, Captain.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Commence the first low-power subspace pulse when ready, B’Elanna.

TORRES

Aye, Captain. [Turns to CREW] Alright people, look sharp.

There is a BLEEP. TORRES looks down and sees an E-MAIL on her display from PARIS: “They say that ‘there are old engineers and bold engineers but no old and bold engineers.’ The ones who say that have never met you, love.” TORRES grins and enters a series of commands.

TORRES

As Paris says, let’s rock!

F/X – A huge beam of blue-white light shoots out of the VOYAGER’s main deflector. It hits some invisible barrier and spreads out in a pretty light show.

INT. BRIDGE. Everyone is poring over the results of this first experiment.

SEVEN

Seven to Lieutenant Torres. The beam returns are normal. However, the impact point is marginally off target. Modify the beam at x plus 1.0055 degrees, y minus 0.005 degrees.

TORRES (v/o)

[Irritated] I see it, Seven. [Beat] Is this any better?

SEVEN

[Frowns] The error factor is now less than one in one thousand. That is sufficient.

JANEWAY grins at CHAKOTAY as she hears the exchange. SEVEN makes a few more adjustments.

SEVEN

[To JANEWAY] The beam is now calibrated, Captain. We may proceed with the tests on enlarging the depression.

JANEWAY looks at the centre console and looks up to reply to SEVEN. Whatever she was about to say is now lost to history.

KIM

[Alarmed] Captain! I’m reading a transwarp egress at 133 mark 027. It’s a Borg Cruiser-class Sphere!

JANEWAY

Red alert!

LIGHTS and SOUND – Lights dim, red tracer lights begin to shine and the siren begins to hoot.

JANEWAY

B’Elanna, cut off the beam. Tuvok, maximum power to shields. Stand by all weapons!

There is ordered chaos as the BRIDGE CREW quickly performs the evolution to battle stations. It is something of which, unfortunately, they have too much practice.

KIM

The Borg vessel is on a heading directly for the subspace depression, Captain. [Beat] They have scanned us, but don’t seem to be taking much notice. [SOUNDS – HAILING SIGNAL] They’re hailing us.

JANEWAY

I can guess what this is going to be about. Let’s hear it anyway, Lieutenant.

VIEWSCREEN – The Borg Sphere swooping across the screen, the camera tracking it. There is a bleep and the view switches to the typical interior of a BORG vessel (matte painting). The BORG address the crew.

BORG

We are the Borg. You have intruded onto our territorial space. You will withdraw, immediately, or we will annihilate your ship. Resistance is futile.

JANEWAY

[Nonplussed, to CHAKOTAY] Well that was unexpected. [To BORG] This is Captain Katherine Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. We mean you no harm. We are simply performing some scientific experiments.

BORG

Your intentions are irrelevant. You will comply with our demands or we will annihilate you. [Signal cuts off. VIEWSCREEN shows to the SPHERE, now taking up station between the Voyager and the subspace depression]

JANEWAY

[Turns to crew] Suggestions or comments, people?

TUVOK

The appearance of a Borg Cruiser is most unusual, Captain. As you know, they are designed for defensive patrols within Borg space, not assimilation. They are heavily armed, but relatively lightly crewed. I do not believe that we are their target.

CHAKOTAY

Agreed, they want us out of the way, Captain. The question is why?

PARIS

[Concerned] I say the question is “Why are we still here when the Borg have asked us to leave so nicely?”

JANEWAY gives PARIS her ‘death glare.’ PARIS looks back innocently and KIM covers a smile.

KIM

The Borg are scanning the subspace depression with full sensors, Captain. Their shields are at maximum power and their weapons are running hot.

JANEWAY

Are they targeting us?

TUVOK

Negative, Captain. [Does the eyebrow trick] Indeed, the Borg seem to be ignoring us.

SEVEN

The Collective always ignores vessels that are not of immediate interest.

JANEWAY

I find that vaguely insulting.

WILDMAN

Captain, the anomaly!

Everyone swings around to face the VIEWSCREEN.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The ANOMALY is now visible as a blue-green tinged depression against the stars darkening towards the centre. Everyone snaps into action.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN is working at her console. JANEWAY is still in her chair, looking up at her.

SEVEN

Captain, the depression is deepening. Subspace distortion is a 5,250 millicochranes and still rising.

The ship suddenly begins to shudder.

WILDMAN

Captain, there is an awful lot of subspace disruption coming from the anomaly. It’s getting worse by the second.

JANEWAY

Tom, pull us back 20,000 kilometres.

PARIS

Yes Ma’am!

PARIS works his console, but nothing happens, except the quality of the ship’s shuddering changes.

PARIS

This crazy subspace distortion is affecting our impulse engines, Captain. It’s almost as if the engines can’t ‘grip’ space anymore. [Looks up] B’Elanna, can you give me more power?

TORRES (v/o)

I’ll try Tom. I’ve got a few tricks that may improve impulse drive performance in this environment, too.

JANEWAY

Try them, Lieutenant. [Turns to SEVEN] What is the situation, Seven?

SEVEN does not seem to hear. Her normally pale face has gone ghostly white and she is staring at the anomaly on the VIEWSCREEN. Her expression is blank with pure terror.

JANEWAY

[Firmly] Seven! Snap out of it!

SEVEN

[Shakes her head] I’m sorry, Captain. The subspace depression is now showing a distortion of over 100 kilocochranes. [Examines readings with a frown] The readings are similar to the proposed subspace tunnel that was the ultimate goal of our experiments. However, they are thousands of times more powerful.

JANEWAY

[Hopeless and quiet] B’Elanna…?

INT. ENGINEERING

TORRES is working desperately at her console to increase the power to the impulse engines and improve their performance. She seems annoyed that everything is suddenly her fault.

TORRES

Not our doing, Captain. We only used our scanning-intensity beam. Anyway, even if we had used a full-power subspace beam, it would not have created a result even a hundredth of the power of the anomaly.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Could the scanning beam have tripped off this effect?

TORRES

I don’t see how.

TORRES moves to another console. She shoves VORIK aside and makes a few adjustments. It is obviously ineffective as she hits the console in frustration and moves back to her own station.

TORRES

Besides, the numbers are all wrong, Captain. These frequency readings are all inverted. It is almost as if something were coming through from the other side!

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY looks at CHAKOTAY in disbelief. The big Indian’s jaw is slack with disbelief.

JANEWAY

Something coming through from the other side…?

JANEWAY looks at SEVEN. Pure terror has almost paralysed the young woman. She is standing stiffly and holding the console almost hard enough to start to deform its structure.

WILDMAN

Captain, the subspace distortion is going off the top of the scale. Distortion is now greater than a megacochrane. I’ve never even seen a theoretical description of such conditions.

TUVOK

The Borg Sphere is over-charging its weapons systems.

JANEWAY

Who are they targeting?

TUVOK

[Surprised] They are targeting the anomaly.

F/X – The Borg SPHERE fires several emerald-white torpedoes into the anomaly. They flash forward and are torn apart by the massive distortion fields.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM is checking his console, wearing an amazed expression.

KIM

[Amazed} Captain, the Borg are sending an all-frequency distress signal!

Before JANEWAY can react to that, SEVEN suddenly cuts in. Her voice is rough with fear.

SEVEN

Captain, we have to get out of here! NOW!

JANEWAY has already decided on this. Whatever it is that could get a Borg ship sending distress signals, she has no desire to meet it.

JANEWAY

Get us out of here, Mr. Paris. Maximum Warp.

PARIS works his console. Nothing is happening.

JANEWAY

Engineering we need more power!

The shuddering of the ship grows worse.

JANEWAY

B’Elanna, we are not going anywhere! Boost the power levels to maximum tolerance!

INT. ENGINGEERING

The WARP CORE is flashing and flaring brightly. TORRES and an ENSIGN look on aghast. The Voyager is obviously at maximum power and nothing is happening.

INT. BRIDGE

PARIS

It’s no good, Captain; our warp field isn’t generating any propulsive power!

JANEWAY

Engineering, report!

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, the Warp Core is at 115% output now and I don’t like the look of the temperature of our coolant. I can’t give you any more power!

WILDMAN

[Hysterical] Oh my god!

EVERYONE looks at the VIEWSCREEN.

F/X – The centre of the anomaly seems to be stretching away from normal space as if something were pulling it. It now looks like water racing down glowing blue-green hole. At the very ‘bottom,’ there is a bright blue-white glow… Suddenly there is a mighty flare of light from deep within. A spear of energy is sent flaring out from the centre, deep out into space. A vivid blue-white ring shoots away from the perimeter of the anomaly.

INT. BRIDGE

The shock wave throws everyone about.

F/X – As the flare dies away, there is now a deep blue-white vortex leading into a pitch black hole. It is very like the Babylon 5 exit jump point effect. Occasionally, the vortex flares as a ring of energy races up from deep within.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM

[Awed] It’s a… an artificial wormhole! I’ve never seen these power readings before! It could link us to a point billions of light years from here!

WILDMAN

Captain, I’m reading six objects emerging from the… Well, from the ‘super-wormhole,’ or whatever it is. They are definitely artificial.

F/X – The six objects are identical and are travelling along the perimeter of the vortex. When they reach the event horizon, they stop. They are trapezoid-shaped with four long ‘arms’ that hang backwards from each corner. As we watch, the trapezoids move so that their largest face points out of the wormhole. Two arms attached to the long end move to run along the rim of the vortex, while the two from the narrow end lie parallel to the vortex’s walls, pointing towards its black heart. A strong blue-white glow appears from long vents along the length of the arms.

The Borg SPHERE opens fire with everything it’s got: Repulsor beams, disruptors, torpedoes and cutting beams. The objects’ shields absorb everything without even a flicker of strain.

INT. Bridge

PARIS is still fighting the helm as TUVOK examines his console.

TUVOK

The Borg are putting more power into their distress call, Captain. They have fired upon the unidentified artefacts, but their weapons have no visible effect.

PARIS

[Frustrated] Captain, I still can’t make any headway with either Warp or Impulse engines. This distortion field is so scrambling the structure of subspace that our generators can’t affect it. It’s like trying to swim up a waterfall. Our thrusters are the only propulsion system not affected, and they are barely strong enough to keep us from falling down the gravity well of that thing!

JANEWAY

Keep at it, Tom. [She looks at CHAKOTAY. He is using the centre console to co-ordinate some function. His expression is grim] If anyone has any ideas, now is the time.

KIM

If the anomaly and the distortion are somehow related, then we have to generate a powerful subspace pulse, something so big that it drowns out everything else. If that happens, we’ll have a window of a few seconds to get clear.

JANEWAY

How big a pulse are we looking at, Harry?

KIM

Too big, Captain. [His editorialising does obviously not impress JANEWAY] Equivalent to the simultaneous detonation of about a thousand photon torpedoes. The Detonation of our warp core might just be powerful enough.

That is obviously not an option, as JANEWAY’s expression makes quite clear.

TUVOK

Captain, I believe that this wormhole is, indeed, intended to function as an intergalactic conduit. [Quirks an eyebrow] Interesting. The six vessels appear to be generating some form of resonant subspace field that is stabilising this end of the wormhole. [Looks at JANEWAY] While the technology that makes this possible is beyond our ability to reproduce, it is a most efficient way to stabilise such a construct using lower power levels.

Then, as if to prove TUVOK’s point, WILDMAN checks her readings and rears back in shock.

WILDMAN

I’m reading another ship coming through the wormhole, Captain. It is much bigger than those six stabilising generators. I mean much bigger. At least 2 kilometres in length and well over 250 million metric tonnes mass.

JANEWAY

[Nearly a whisper] On screen, Mr. Kim.

SEVEN

[Terrified] Captain, we MUST leave this area! I mean it; this may be our last chance!

EVERYONE’s attention is again fixed on the VIEWSCREEN as the new contact WILDMAN detected begins to emerge.

F/X – We see the Voyager, the warp pylons raised and glowing brightly as the ship struggles to get free of the subspace distortion. The POV rotates past the Borg ship, which has ceased firing for the time being to the wormhole.

Beyond the stabilising generators, the blue-white vortex flows off into infinity, a deep well of black. The occasional power surge still races along its length like spirals of light. From the very centre, a huge object rolls forward that looks like two long, thin cylinders with various sharp projections connected side by side. NOTE – for the first time we get the scale of the anomaly. From WILDMAN’s estimates, it is obvious that the mouth of the wormhole is over 2 miles in diameter.

New POV, looking virtually across the mouth of the wormhole as IT emerges. First are ten forward-facing ‘blades,’ five each side of the cylindrical hull, which taper forward to a blunt end at their fronts. The teeth have flush vents that glow with the same blue light as the generators’ ‘arms.’

The hull continues, melding smoothly into two pairs of five smooth ‘booms,’ each pair spaced equally around the circumference of one of the egg-shaped forward hulls. More blue light glows from various spots and from in between the booms. The booms meld once more into a the two cylindrical hulls that curve smoothly towards the join of the two hulls, ending with two pairs of four claw-like protrusions on the outward-facing surface that glow with the familiar orange-red or impulse power.

The mighty ship slips clear of the wormhole and hovers for a moment, then ten long, graceful spines swing away from the outer hull, five on each outward-facing side of the rear hulls, creating what look like two fans, or possibly something like a solar sailing ship’s masts. These spines end with short, vicious-looking sharp forward-pointing ends. The spines have long vents along their length. They begin to glow with the same blue-white power.

The Borg SPHERE opens fire once again. The ship’s shields, without a flicker, deflect the blasts. Blasts powerful enough to kill a Federation starship with one shot. It is, of course, the ship from SEVEN’s vision.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN

[Verging on the hysterical by now. It makes her voice very quiet, very young…] It’s too late…

TUVOK

I am reading a massive power surge from the alien vessel.

F/X – From in between the ten ‘blades,’ there comes a powerful, pencil-thin beam of blue-white light. The shot reaches out and smashes right into the very centre of the SPHERE. The SPHERE’s running lights go out. What looks like a distortion wave spreads out from the impact point and flows along its hull, causing it to ripple like a wave, until it meets again at the far side of the hull. Then the SPHERE explodes with a massive yellow-white explosion. There is very little wreckage. From impact to explosion, it is all over in less than a tenth of a second.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM is sweating, staring at his rear wall displays.

KIM

Tom, the subspace distortion…

PARIS

I see it, Harry!

F/X – PARIS does not waste time with unnecessary manoeuvres. The VOYAGER swoops forward, right over the alien still poised at the entry to the wormhole, and leaps to high warp. Even though the manoeuvre is fast, it is not fast enough. As the VOYAGER races past, the alien is able to get in one shot. It is not a clean hit, indeed it is only a glancing blow, but it still is almost enough.

INT. BRIDGE

The entire crew is thrown forward by a tremendous concussion. TUVOK’s rear wall displays explode with a bright white flash, throwing him over his console to the deck. The CREWMAN at the Ship’s Status display is also thrown to the deck beside SEVEN.

Bits of the Tactical console rain down and fire burns in the shattered remains. Several overhead ODN trunks in the same area are ruptured and fibre-optic cables create a strangely art-deco background to the fire. The Ship’s Status display begins to flicker

JANEWAY

Trauma Team to the Bridge! I want a full damage report!

CHAKOTAY checks the centre console.

CHAKOTAY

My god!

JANEWAY

What?

CHAKOTAY

That was just a near miss, Captain! A single glancing blow and it still nearly knocked out our shields! Our rear shields are down 67% and our forward shields are down 25%.

There is concussion damage to all decks with sections far to the aft. We will have to evacuate the main shuttlebay, the main doors are shattered and the mag shield generator has been knocked out! We are reading all kinds of damage to the ship’s systems, especially tactical and drive systems.

JANEWAY is amazed and horrified. The medical team arrives and goes to TUVOK and the CREWMAN. JANEWAY turns to them.

JANEWAY

How are they? [She means, ‘How is TUVOK,’ of course]

MEDIC

They are both suffering from concussion, lacerations and severe plasma burns, Ma’am. We’ll get them to sickbay.

SEVEN seems to be recovered from her terrified paralysis. She has an extinguisher and puts out the fire in the wreckage of the Tactical station. She then turns back to her console and touches a few controls.

Two CREWMEN exit the lift and move to assist in repairing the damaged stations.

SEVEN

Captain, I have re-routed Tactical to my console.

JANEWAY

[Wry] Good to have you back, Seven. All right, status report.

PARIS

We are stable at Warp 6 on a course radially away from the wormhole, Captain. Now we are clear, the drive systems are functioning normally.

SEVEN

All weapon systems except Phaser Banks Ten through Thirteen are operational. I have re-enforced the rear shields with power from our forward shields, but I am unable to increase general shield power above 50% of nominal.

TORRES (v/o)

We’re still picking up the pieces down here, Bridge. There are no serious problems I can see, but I’ll have to get back to you.

KIM

[Tense] Captain, we are being pursued. The alien vessel has just come into rear sensor range. They are at Warp 8 and accelerating.

JANEWAY’s jaw goes all square and she seems grim.

JANEWAY

What are our chances, Seven?

SEVEN

[Calmly, but tense too now it is clear it is not over] Very slim, Captain. Our damaged shields could not protect us against another attack. Even if all systems were nominal, we would stand little chance against a Species 704 warship.

JANEWAY

[Quiet] You are certain it is them?

SEVEN

[Grim] I am certain, Captain.

JANEWAY

So, we’re in no condition for another confrontation. All right, Tom. Take us up to maximum warp.

PARIS

Yes, Ma’am [Touches some controls] Warp 7. Warp 8. Warp 8.5…

KIM

[Urgent] Captain, the alien vessel is already at Warp 9 and it is still accelerating.

JANEWAY

[Urgent] Tom, when I said ‘maximum warp’ I meant it!

PARIS

[Concerned] She seems a little sluggish, Captain. [Checks a display] It looks like we took a little more damage to our warp drives than we thought. We’re at Warp 9.2 now.

TORRES (v/o)

Captain, how much warp power do you think you are going to need?

INT. ENGINEERING

The place has seen better days. There are damage control parties and medical teams all over. The WARP CORE seems undamaged, but that could be deceiving. TORRES and CAREY are both standing at the main console, examining the power flow read outs.

JANEWAY (v/o)

How much can you give me, B’Elanna?

TORRES

Not as much as I would like, Ma’am. The concussion of that near miss has damaged both warp plasma feeds. We have the leak under control now, but if we increase the plasma pressure too much, they’ll rupture.

JANEWAY (v/o)

You mean we could loose warp speed?

TORRES

I mean that we could loose most of the ship aft of Section 18, Captain.

JANEWAY (v/o)

[Grim] Well I’d rather blow up than be vaporised, B’Elanna. Take it as far as she can handle, then give me an extra ten-percent on top of that.

TORRES

I’ll do my best, Captain. Try to keep the ride smooth.

JANEWAY (v/o)

No promises, Lieutenant. Janeway out.

TORRES

[To Carey, with a little shake of her head] I don’t know if we are going to make it this time, Bill.

An ENGINEERING CREWMAN shouts to TORRES from the other side of the Core. Torres runs to see the problem, leaving Carey at the main console.

INT. BRIDGE

PARIS is visibly sweating as he tries to coax more power from the damaged starship. JANEWAY is at the aft section, walking between KIM and SEVEN, looking grim.

PARIS

We’re at Warp 9.6, Captain.

JANEWAY

Keep pouring it on, Tom.

PARIS

Yes, Ma’am. All right, we’re at Warp 9.8… Warp 9.9. That’s our maximum rated speed, Captain. The core will SCRAM automatically after 12 hours tops.

KIM

[Grim] Captain, the alien vessel is already at Warp 9.95 and they are still accelerating. There is no indication that their acceleration curve is levelling off.

SEVEN

They will intercept us in thirty minutes at current rates of acceleration.

JANEWAY

[Frustrated] Chief Engineer, we need more speed!

TORRES (v/o)

I’m giving it all we’ve got left, Captain.

There is a sudden sound like a loud bang over the INTERCOM and TORRES is cut off.

JANEWAY

Torres, what’s happening? Torres? [Louder] B’Elanna?

TORRES (v/o)

[Urgent] We’ve just lost one of our primary coolant pumps, Captain. The engines will rip themselves apart at this rate! The plasma conduits are ready to burst!

JANEWAY

Keep on top of it, B’Elanna! Hold those conduits together with your bare hands if you have to, but keep those warp factors coming!

TORRES (v/o)

[Exhausted] I’ll do my best, Ma’am.

JANEWAY walks to the lower level and stands next to PARIS

JANEWAY

How are we doing, Tom?

PARIS

We’re at warp 9.92, and I really don’t like the look of those drive stress dynamics. [Turns to JANEWAY] I don’t think we can take her any higher without shedding our nacelles.

KIM

[Slightly shrill] The alien vessel is at Warp 9.99 and still accelerating!

SEVEN

Interception in 5 minutes, maximum, Captain.

JANEWAY

On screen.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien warship is in the very centre of the screen. Small right now, but getting bigger very quickly.

JANEWAY

Prepare to fire aft torpedoes. Full spread, pattern gamma.

SEVEN

Weapons armed, locked on and ready to fire.

JANEWAY

There’s one last chance to stop this. Mr. Kim, open hailing frequencies.

SEVEN

[Bold] I find it highly unlikely that this course will benefit us. Species 704 has no reason to open communications at this time.

JANEWAY

[Quiet and firm] I didn’t ask you, Seven. [Now sounds angry] Despite your preconceived notions, these people may not be conquest-obsessed berserkers.

SEVEN straightens at her post, reacting as if she has just been slapped.

SOUNDS – Hailing frequencies.

KIM

Hailing frequencies open

JANEWAY

This is Captain Katherine Janeway of the United Federation of Planets starship Voyager to unidentified vessel in pursuit. We are a peaceful vessel on a mission of exploration and wish to avoid hostilities. May we discuss this matter openly?

There is a long pause. There is no reply.

JANEWAY

We are no part of the Borg Collective and have no knowledge of any grievances you may have against cultures in the area of space. Can we at least attempt to avoid needless bloodshed?

Still there is no reply.

KIM

They’re listening, Captain, they’re just not replying.

JANEWAY

[Frustrated, maybe a little desperate] Alien vessel; please state your intentions

SEVEN

Captain, they are scanning us.

F/X – A distortion wave suddenly flashes across the BRIDGE. EVERYONE looks around in disorientation.

SEVEN

It was a full scan. [Beat] Captain, the Species 704 vessel has obtained a missile targeting lock. We will come under attack at any time.

CHAKOTAY

[Grim] They have stated their intentions, all right.

JANEWAY seems defeated. She slumps down into her chair before speaking again.

JANEWAY

Fire torpedoes.

SEVEN responds immediately, touching a single control.

F/X – Three torpedoes spit from both of the Voyager’s rear tubes and flash away through space, rapidly forming a five-pointed star.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN at her station.

SEVEN

Torpedoes away. Weapons running straight, hot and normal.

F/X – The weapons reach the alien warship and detonate against their shields. NOTE – It is a strangely muted detonation, almost as if the torpedoes were not fully armed.

JANEWAY

[Amazed] Seven?

SEVEN

[Checks console] The torpedoes functioned normally, but seemed to disintegrate on impact against their shields. [Amazed] It is almost as if their molecular structure was disrupted. The antimatter seemed to simply… vanish, as if it aged a million years in an instant. Their was only a kinetic impact and their shields are undamaged. The attack was ineffective.

JANEWAY

[Not fazed] Reload and fire again. Set the torpedoes to detonate a few metres short of their shields. We’ll see if we can knock them down.

SEVEN does not hesitate for a second. She performs the required functions and launches the reprogrammed second barrage.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – We see the alien warship. The second five pointed star of torpedoes flashes into view and detonate minutely short of its shields. Six enormous red fireballs blossom out and the alien disappears for a second.

PARIS

[Slight smirk] Eat that, buddy.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien warship emerges untouched. Several Starfleet jaws hit the deck.

SEVEN

The alien shields somehow de-phased all incident energy from the torpedo detonations, reducing the weapons’ effectiveness by over 99%. Sensors detected a momentary point-zero-zero-one percent loss of power in the alien shields.

KIM

[Whispers] That’s impossible!

JANEWAY

Time to interception?

SEVEN

They will be at point-blank range in 150 seconds, Captain. [Beat, a look of inspiration] Captain, I suggest that we alter course to 233 mark 107. This will take us into the shock front of the supernova remnant and reduce the effectiveness of their sensors.

CHAKOTAY

It will also render most of our sensor systems useless, Seven. We can’t fight blind.

SEVEN

[Firm] I do not believe that we can fight them at all, at present.

JANEWAY considers SEVEN’s expression closely. The younger woman radiates certainty and it is enough. The Captain nods decisively.

JANEWAY

You heard the lady, Tom, new heading 233 mark 107, maintain maximum warp.

PARIS

Aye aye, Captain!

The ship begins to shudder

JANEWAY

Engineering, what is happening down there?

TORRES (v/o)

I’m sorry Captain, but I can’t give you much more. The warp core is overheating and the plasma conduits are shaking themselves apart.

JANEWAY

[Grim] I will only need another three minutes, B’Elanna, one way or another.

TORRES (v/o)

[Horrified] Yes, Ma’am!

F/X – Small clumps of nebulosity and patterns of distortion from the supernova remnant fill our view. The Voyager races past, deeper into the remnant at full power. After a few seconds, with the Voyager dwindling into the distance, the alien ship also races past with an unearthly banshee-like scream.

INT. BRIDGE

KIM

Captain, the hostile vessel somehow turned inside our manoeuvre! Intercept now in ninety seconds!

JANEWAY

I don’t understand why they haven’t fired yet.

CHAKOTAY

[Bitter] They probably want to gloat. You know, see the looks of terror on our faces before they finish us…

SEVEN

Unlikely, Commander. It is more probable that Species 704 is deliberately prolonging this engagement to determine our strengths, weaknesses and tactical behaviour. We are, after all, an unfamiliar culture to them.

F/X – The alien ship at high warp. It fires a single blue-white torpedo, a little like a quantum torpedo in appearance but brighter. Our POV tracks the torpedo as it races past towards the distant Voyager.

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN’s console begins to beep loudly. Seven freezes for a second before reporting.

SEVEN

Species 704 has opened fire. A single missile is approaching at approximately Warp 9.999. Impact in 30 seconds.

VIEWSCREEN – F/X – The alien torpedo is moving fast towards the bottom of the screen.

SEVEN

Sensors indicate that the weapon has some form of artificial singularity for a warhead.

JANEWAY’s jaw drops open.

JANEWAY

Now that is what I call overkill. Mr. Kim, begin jamming. Mr. Paris, commence evasive…

SEVEN

[Interrupts] That will be useless, Captain. [Excited] I can defeat this attack but I must have total computer control!

KIM

Impact in fifteen seconds. [Beat] Jamming has no effect; weapon is still locked on and homing. Impact in ten seconds…

JANEWAY

Do it Seven. [To INTERCOM] All hands, brace for impact!

SEVEN extends her ASSIMILATION TUBULES, which punch into her console. She closes her eyes and concentrates on becoming one with the ship’s computer systems.

KIM

Impact in five seconds. Four… three… two… Torpedo impact… NOW!

F/X – There is a massive blue-white explosion that sends the VOYAGER tumbling end over end. The starship’s lights go out and glowing red deuterium fuel begins to spill from the ship’s bussard ram-scoops.

INT. BRIDGE

The explosion sends EVERYONE flying about the compartment. Several consoles spit sparks. The Engineering console explodes, incinerating the luckless CREWMAN stationed there. KIM is thrown hard against his console. He pulls himself up just as the display explodes, spraying him with plastic shards and sparks. He is flung back and tumbles to the deck, his face a mass of bruises and cuts. The lights go out and the only source of illumination is the fires in the tactical and engineering consoles.

F/X – The VOYAGER is still tumbling end-over-end, apparently dead. The glowing deuterium vapour generates an eerie shroud around the ship. Around her are the wisps of nebulae and distortion waves from the supernova remnant. There are several bright flashes from within the vapour, as if something were flashing spontaneously into flame.

INT. BRIDGE

The emergency blue lights underneath the stair tread light up, as do a few other dim emergency lights. The control displays flicker weakly. There is a groan as JANEWAY pulls herself onto her knees and looks around the darkened, burning bridge.

JANEWAY

[Nonplussed] I don’t believe it! We’re alive!

SEVEN

[Whispers] Captain, shh! Their sensors will detect the reverberation of speech. I have already signalled silent running.

JANEWAY looks around at SEVEN, who is cradling a semi-conscious KIM in her lap. The Captain nods decisively and touches CHAKOTAY on the shoulder, signalling him to lie still. His chair has bent forward, tipping him unceremoniously onto the deck.

F/X – The alien warship hovers above the cloud of deuterium gas, now mingling with the supernova remnant’s nebulosity. The huge warship hovers silently for a long moment, as if contemplating its work. Suddenly, it quickly rotates 100 degrees to the left. It’s ten spines retract and it accelerates forward very fast. As it reaches the middle distance, it seems to plunge through space, surrounded by a bright white light. It disappears with a white flash [The TNG – Descent Transwarp effect].

INT. BRIDGE

SEVEN gently lies KIM’s head on the deck, rises and examines her controls. She audibly sighs with relief and touches a control. The lights slowly come up to about 50% of normal illumination. The displays become steady. Vent fans begin to suck away the smoke from the fires and the automatic extinguishers activate.

SEVEN

I’ve detected a transwarp ingress. They are gone.

JANEWAY

[With a hiss of discomfort as she rises] Stations, people. I want a full damage report.

EVERONE is picking themselves off the floor. PARIS manipulates the Helm controls (he stabilises the ship). JANEWAY moves to help KIM, who is pulling himself to his feet. CHAKOTAY moves to the CREWMAN who sat at Engineering. He is beyond help. CHAKOTAY sighs, closes the man’s eyes and looks away. KIM is standing and he moves to his battered console. The forward console is out, but the rear wall displays are working.

SEVEN

[Absently] Harry, you are damaged. You should rest.

KIM

I’ll live, Seven. My brain is still working and we need to get working NOW or, according to these readings, we might have to abandon ship!

EVERYONE looks at KIM as the import of his report sinks in.

FADE

ACT 5

F/X – The VOYAGER stabilises and its running and internal lights come back on.

INT. BRIDGE

JANEWAY stands in the centre of the BRIDGE as reports begin to trickle in. The impact knocked most ship’s systems off-line, but the damage is more cosmetic than serious. CHAKOTAY has replaced KIM at Ops. The young Lieutenant is doubtless now in Sickbay.

JANEWAY

That was an interesting trick, Seven. What exactly did you do?

SEVEN

I over-charged our rear deflectors and shaped the field to create what would appear to the sensors on the graviton torpedo to be the ship’s hull. The shield pulse also absorbed over 75% of the detonation energy. I then shut down all ship’s systems and vented deuterium and antimatter to simulate the destruction of the Voyager. In the low-sensor efficiency environment of the supernova remnant, it was enough to shield us from Species 704’s scans.

JANEWAY smiles slightly and nods in approval of SEVEN’s initiative. CHAKOTAY looks up from Ops.

CHAKOTAY

A ‘Play Dead’ manoeuvre worthy of the Maquis, Seven. Well done.

SEVEN

The Borg found it was the only tactic small vessels could use to avoid a graviton torpedo attack.

There is a long pause before JANEWAY speaks again.

JANEWAY

Seven, you said that Borg records did not contain any details of Species 704.

SEVEN

[Frowns] They do not Captain. [Beat] The tactic simply appeared in my consciousness. It is possibly another download from my bio-transceiver chip.

TORRES (v/o)

Wherever it came from it saved our lives, Seven. Unfortunately it also knocked main power, most of the Electro-Plasma System network and all the ship’s shield generators off line. I’ll need your help to put them back together.

JANEWAY

Get going, Seven. [Looks around] I want a full meeting of all senior staff in six hours time. We’ll discuss these events then. Until then, we have a ship to save.

F/X – The Voyager is still hovering within the scattered nebulosity of the supernova remnant.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Captain’s Log, stardate 56988.5, six hours after the attack. After four hours of the most urgent repairs, we are no longer in any immediate danger of loosing the Voyager.

MONTAGE – VOYAGER CORRIDOR. JANEWAY is pacing along the corridor, skirting around a REPAIR TEAM who have opened a wall panel and are fixing some damaged system.

MONTAGE – MAIN ENGINEERING. TORRES, CAREY and VORIK are working on several exploded consoles in the atrium. TORRES is giving orders to VORIK, who nods and walks away.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Engineering has now restored main power and the ship’s systems are beginning to function normally again. With the immediate pressure off the crew, shock is beginning to set in. The sheer brutality and overwhelming power of this new species has left everyone amazed.

MONTAGE – ASTROMETRICS. SEVEN and JENNY DELANEY are inputting information into the main console, while two CREWMEN shore up one of the vertical supports. DELANEY, whose right arm is in a sling and has a bandage on her forehead, is talking fast and excitedly, much to SEVEN’s patent bemusement.

MONTAGE – BRIDGE. CHAKOTAY and KIM are discussing something as KIM works on repairing his console. A CREWMAN walks past carrying a coil of ODN cable.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Mercifully, casualties have been light. There was only one fatality: Crewman Joel Stanford was killed when the bridge engineering station exploded. Nonetheless, over a quarter of the crew are currently under The Doctor’s tender care.

MONTAGE – SICKBAY. The DOCTOR and PARIS are working on a badly burnt ENGINEERING CREWWOMAN on the main BIO BED. A round dozen other patients are either on the other beds, or sitting on the floor, wrapped in thermal blankets.

JANEWAY (v/o)

It is a mercy that our Red Alert protocols include automatically transferring The Doctor to his Mobile Emitter. If he had gone off-line along with the other primary systems, we would have lost a lot more of our people.

MONTAGE – MESS HALL, acting as an auxiliary infirmary. NEELIX and a MEDIC are handing out food and help to the wounded, while a grim JANEWAY paces through, occasionally talking to a crewmember and smiling in an attempt to bolster morale. She has a slight limp, but has obviously refused treatment until the DOCTOR has seen to the rest of the crew.

JANEWAY (v/o)

I have summoned a meeting of the senior staff. I hope that, working together; we can determine what, if anything, we can do next.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM.

A battered-looking JANEWAY is sitting at the head of the table, drinking a coffee and looking like she would rather be asleep. TUVOK sits to her left. He has a large bandage on the side of his face and wears a meditative expression.

The DOOR opens and the DOCTOR and PARIS walks in. The DOCTOR shoots JANEWAY a worried look.

DOCTOR

Captain, I expect to see you in Sickbay after the meeting.

JANEWAY

[Weak smile] I’ll try to find the time, Doctor.

The DOCTOR snorts and takes a seat to her LEFT. PARIS watches with bemusement. The door opens again and TORRES walks in. Grease and burns cover her uniform and she looks like she has just gone three rounds with a garbage compactor. PARIS smiles and drapes an arm over her shoulder. She leans on him gratefully and allows him to lead her to a seat table to the Captain’s left.

KIM and CHAKOTAY enter talking about the repair schedules. CHAKOTAY gives JANEWAY a worried look, making her smile. If she does not go to SICKBAY willingly, she has no doubt that her First Officer will throw her over his shoulder and carry her there.

The last to arrive are SEVEN and NEELIX

NEELIX

Thanks for helping out in the Mess Hall, Seven.

SEVEN

You are welcome, Mr. Neelix.

NEELIX sits to the Captain’s right. SEVEN remains standing by the door. She seems distracted.

JANEWAY

I’m sure you all know why we are here. Let’s start with a full status report.

There is a long pause while JANEWAY waits for someone to go first. Finally, TORRES draws the short straw.

TORRES

We’ve finally got the Warp Plasma Conduits repaired, Captain. Lt. Carey tells me that we should have the EPS system running at 80% efficiency within the next hour.

JANEWAY

Only 80 percent, B’Elanna?

TORRES

Unfortunately. [Sighs] The gravitational pulse from that alien torpedo destabilised the pressure balances throughout the entire system. We’ll have to make do until we can finish recalibrating all the flow sensors on the network.

JANEWAY

Keep on it, B’Elanna. If you need any more hands, tell me. What about propulsion, Mr. Paris?

PARIS

[Seems to jump at the question] Ah, all drive systems are running according to the shipyard specifications, Captain. I would take any warp manoeuvres slowly until we have time to calibrate the subspace field generators.

CHAKOTAY

What’s the problem, Tom?

PARIS

[Easy going smile] It’s just a precaution after being hit by that enormous gravity well. I want to be sure of the generators in actual operation rather than simulation before trying anything too dramatic.

JANEWAY

That will be your first priority, Tom. I want all ship’s systems reliable before we face those creatures again.

KIM

Ah, Captain, about that matter…

EVERYONE turns to look at KIM, who begins to shift uneasily under the scrutiny.

KIM

Do we have the right to get involved with this? [Uncomfortable pause] I mean this seems a perfect Prime Directive situation. We aren’t at war with these people. We aren’t even from this part of the galaxy. Whatever they want it probably doesn’t involve us. We should just leave the area and let nature take its course.

KIM winces at the looks everyone is giving him. TUVOK finally breaks the silence.

TUVOK

Mr. Kim seems to make a valid point.

JANEWAY

Yes he does [Reassuring ‘Mum’ smile] And normally I’d agree with him. This is not a typical situation, however. Species 704, that’s their Borg designation, refused to respond to an attempt at communication. They continued to attack, although we told them that we weren’t from this quadrant. I suspect that they will attack any space vessel they encounter. We will have to face them eventually. I prefer to do it on our own terms and at our own time.

There is a long thoughtful pause before JANEWAY continues.

JANEWAY

How is our tactical situation, Mr. Tuvok?

TUVOK

All weapons systems are on line. However, Lt. Torres informs me that it will be another 6 hours before we have full shielding capacity back.

JANEWAY looks at TORRES for an explanation.

TORRES

[Sits up nervously] That’s right, Captain. Seven’s timely idea might have kept us alive, but it also burnt out the subspace solenoids in all our shield generators. We’re replacing them as fast as we can.

TUVOK

In any case, the utility of our tactical systems against the recorded capabilities of this new species is questionable. We expended twelve photon torpedoes for infinitesimal gains and a near miss from the aliens’ main weapons nearly disabled our shields. I doubt that our phasers will perform any better against this threat.

JANEWAY

[Nods thoughtfully] Yes, we are outgunned at the moment. [Turns to SEVEN] Seven, can you access the hidden Borg files on Species 704 and determine if the Borg found any weaknesses in their tactical systems we can exploit?

SEVEN does not seem to be listening. She has moved over to the side of the main screen. She almost appears to be daydreaming.

JANEWAY

Seven, I asked you a question.

No reply. SEVEN stays in almost a catatonic state.

JANEWAY

[Concerned] Seven are you alright?

SEVEN slowly turns to look at JANEWAY, her expression blank, her lips quirked in a sneer of superiority. Nightmarishly, a flare of red laser light flashes out from her prosthetic eye and scans the Captain.

SEVEN

[Slowly, mechanically] We… are no longer… the one you call ‘Seven of Nine.’ We… are the Borg.

There is chaos. TUVOK jumps to his feet, pointing his phaser at SEVEN. CHAKOTAY is a second behind, interposing himself between SEVEN and JANEWAY, pointing his own phaser at SEVEN. The DOCTOR and NEELIX dive out of SEVEN’s reach. The medical MONITOR behind SEVEN’s ear begins to shriek its warning.

SEVEN looks around at the forest of phasers now pointed at her before continuing.

SEVEN

We mean you no harm. We have merely appropriated this former Drone to relay information you will require to survive.

The DOCTOR begins to scan SEVEN with his Tricorder

DOCTOR

This isn’t the Collective, Captain. There are no subspace communications activity, no increased activity in her implants. The readings of Seven’s neurological activity are like her previous hallucinatory experiences.

JANEWAY

[Outraged] Whoever you are, you have appropriated my crewman’s body without her permission. I demand that you release her immediately.

SEVEN

[Lots of electronic overtones] Your friend will come to no harm from our actions, Captain Katherine Janeway. She is a conduit to allow us to communicate, no more.

JANEWAY

Who are you?

SEVEN

We are a warning implanted into each successive generation. A warning of a terrible mistake made so long ago implanted not in the mind but into the most fundamental aspect of our collective self so that we may never forget.

CHAKOTAY

An electronic ‘race memory.’ [Puzzled] What mistake do you refer to?

SEVEN

Species 704. Our greatest failure, the result of the first mistake: [Beat] arrogance. Now they are your greatest threat.

With a blur of motion, SEVEN whirls and stabs her ASSIMILATION TUBULES into the viewscreen’s controls. Everyone jumps and KIM pulls out his Tricorder. He starts scanning.

TUVOK

What is she doing?

KIM

[Amazed] She’s injecting reengineering nano-probes into the viewscreen. They’re turning it into… a holo-projector!

SEVEN

It is more suitable for our needs.

As the crew look on an image forms above the table (F/X). Our POV zooms on the image and it becomes an F/X sequence.

F/X – Near a class-M planet, three Borg CUBES fly through space.

SEVEN (v/o)

Two hundred thousand years before this time, the Borg were already a mighty race, dominating much of the area you now call the ‘Delta Quadrant.’

F/X – The CUBES swing away from the planet and head off into space at high warp speed.

SEVEN (v/o)

We had assimilated hundreds of races; brought order to thousands of worlds. Many younger races regarded us as gods or demons. In our arrogance, the Collective began to agree with this assessment. We determined that we were greater and above all other things. This was our greatest fault.

Like many other races, we detected the first signs of the periodic reduction in subspace integrity. At first, we were alarmed, seeing the end of our great empire of worlds, but soon we assimilated the knowledge transwarp travel. This taught us that the changes were simply a natural universal cycle. In our arrogance, we did not realise that if we could use reduced subspace integrity to travel further at transwarp speeds, so could others.

F/X – The Cubes drop out of warp and join large flight of other CUBES and SPHERES surrounding a large planet. Doubtless they are there to assimilate some luckless species.

SEVEN (v/o)

We heard the first cries of distress from species in an area of particularly low subspace integrity, but we ignored them. What ever could threaten the scuttling small things inhabiting the galaxy could never harm the might Borg. So we continued oblivious… until it is too late.

F/X – The POV swings around. Behind the Borg flotilla, there are a series of flashes as ships drop out of transwarp. In moments, it is clear that they are DESTROYER warships of various types. Pencil-thin blue beams and bright pulses of electric blue energy smash into the Borg vessels, which fall quickly and with a minimum of resistance.

JANEWAY (v/o)

Who are they?

SEVEN (v/o)

They are the antithesis of all you value, Captain. They are anti-life. They are ancient, older than the oldest known civilisation of this galaxy, and are possessed of technologies that defy the laws of physics. They believe only they have the right to rule this universe, and that all other life forms exist only to serve them. In their own corner of the universe, they are the masters of trillions of worlds, the overlords of billions of races. They hold hundreds of galaxies in their sway. They are conquerors of worlds, destroyers of civilisations.

F/X – MONTAGE – DESTROYER warships fighting Borg vessels in deep space. Seven DESTROYER warships in a star formation, firing ‘Death Star-style’ to blow up a planet. Massive ground vehicles exchanging fire with a Borg ground facility.

SEVEN

We designated them ‘Species 704,’ but as time went on, we gave them a name that fits their purpose. They are The Destroyers.

F/X – A Borg flotilla engages a squadron of DESTROYER warships head on near a class-M planet. An immense firefight eventually renders the planet a fiery wasteland. Despite using incredibly powerful weapons, the Borg looses the battle decisively.

SEVEN

Despite our mightiest efforts, the Destroyers totally resisted assimilation. They drove us back, world by world, smashing our civilisation. Other races, too, fell before their advance.

F/X – Another septet of DESTROYER warships smashes a Borg planet (use the one from Scorpion, Part 1). All the CUBES in the area flee. DESTROYER ships catch and destroy some of them.

PARIS (v/o)

Very dramatic, but explain why the Collective still exists if these ‘Destroyers’ were so powerful.

SEVEN (v/o)

We learnt that we were no better than any other race. In desperation, facing our final defeat, we joined with the mightiest races of our galaxy and managed to hold the Destroyers back.

F/X – Borg vessels flying in formation with ships from many other cultures (use any imaginative designs you like). They race forward and manage to kill a small squadron of DESTROYER vessels. The allies suffer heavy losses in the battle.

SEVEN (v/o)

Working with these others, we realised the Destroyers’ one weakness. They relied on a single artificial wormhole to connect us with their home territories. Destroy that link and you defeat their invasion.

F/X – An amazing battle near a wormhole like the one we saw only a few scenes ago. Ships of all kinds throw themselves at Destroyer warships, ramming them if necessary. Finally, a blazing CUBE manages to reach the wormhole. It rams a stabilising generator and the impact destroys both. The wormhole remains steady for a moment, then finally collapses, destroying the other five generators.

KIM (v/o)

Wow!

SEVEN (v/o)

Although we had won the war, the enemy still won many further battles. In the time the wormhole existed, the Destroyers moved hundreds of thousands of warships into our galaxy and suborned entire systems to construct others. These refugees were powerful enough to strike deep into our territory and extract a horrible revenge.

F/X – Seven Destroyer battleships do their planet-killer routine.

SEVEN (v/o)

[Sadly] So died the homeworld of Species 1, the Borg. With our central nexus destroyed, the Collective almost collapsed. It took us over 180 millennia to rebuild our empire and again start assimilating species. [Darkly] In that time, we learnt that the Destroyers had returned, 100,000 years after the Great War. A race called the Iconians fought them and drove them away, but the price was their civilisation.

F/X – MONTAGE – Images of archaeology, including Iconian, T’kon, Promellian and unidentifiable artefacts. Each artefact disappears in flame and we see a Destroyer spacecraft firing at unseen targets.

SEVEN (v/o)

Nine times in the last million years, the Destroyers invaded our galaxy, seeking to extend their empire. Nine times, they were driven back at a nightmarish cost.

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The HOLOGRAM disappears. SEVEN retracts her TUBULES and faces the room once more

CHAKOTAY

Then this is [beat] the tenth host?

SEVEN

[Cocks her head] Yes. The religious implications are relevant. This time, they appear to have learnt their lesson. There is no great civilisation to face them in the region around their wormhole. They can build up their numbers undisturbed before moving to widen their conquests.

SEVEN looks around the table, looking each character in the eye.

SEVEN

The Collective has again fallen into the trap of arrogance. Even now they withdraw their ships to their core worlds, thinking to ride out this dark invasion. Consequently, you are the only people aware of the true nature of this threat and have the means to act against it.

Do not believe you can avoid this conflict. If the Destroyers are not stopped while their forces are still weak, then they will not be stopped.

SEVEN looks directly at JANEWAY

SEVEN

The Voyager is the last hope for galactic civilisation. The Destroyers must be stopped before they can build up their forces to too great a strength. If they are not stopped quickly, then they will not be stopped at all. You must act or the light of civilisation will be snuffed out forever beneath the darkness of their tyranny. You must stop them, Captain! You MUST…

SEVEN’s eyes suddenly roll back into her head and she collapses in a heap. EVERYONE jumps forward at once. The DOCTOR runs his medical scanner around SEVEN’s head.

DOCTOR

Her synaptic establishment activity has gone off the scale! [Adjusts his Tricorder] Her body is rejecting the Bio-Transceiver Chip. [Turns to PARIS] Alert Sickbay and get ready for emergency surgery!

SEVEN’s eyes flicker open and she looks around worriedly.

SEVEN

[Weakly] My head hurts…

KIM

[Kindly, but worried] Hold on, Seven. The Doctor will look after you.

SEVEN

[Eyes closing again] Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll be alright…

POV on SEVEN’s face and pulling back and up, out of the BRIEFING ROOM. THE DOCTOR supervises PARIS and KIM as they lift SEVEN onto a hover-stretcher just brought in by a MEDIC. As they wheel her away, JANEWAY turns to CHAKOTAY. The Captain is holding herself as if to ward off the cold.

JANEWAY

[Whispers] Now what?

CHAKOTAY

[Gently] I guess we go to war.

FADE

MONTAGE of various departments including ENGINEERING, ASTROMETRICS, the BRIG, SICKBAY and the SHUTTLEBAY with the crew standing, watching monitors. The monitors are showing edited highlights of SEVEN’s show-and-tell, along with plenty of images of the Destroyers’ power. MONTAGE ends with JANEWAY on the BRIDGE, watching the highlights conclude on the main viewscreen. When the program ends, JANEWAY addresses the crew.

JANEWAY

So, there you have it. We are at war. This isn’t a war any of us wanted or expected, but it is a war we must fight nonetheless. If the Destroyers are not beaten while their presence in our galaxy is still small, then we have virtually no hope of stopping them from overrunning every civilisation in the galaxy, [Quiet, but clear] including the Federation.

JANEWAY begins to walk around the BRIDGE, passing the various SENIOR OFFICERS and smiling at them reassuringly. It is like her speech at the beginning of the voyage home.

JANEWAY

[Firm] I won’t lie to you. We are alone out here. We must somehow forge an alliance out of the squabbling civilisations of this sector to fight the Destroyers and somehow destroy their passage to our galaxy from theirs. [Beat] We have one advantage. Before it failed, Seven of Nine’s Bio-Transceiver Chip downloaded into her memory everything the Borg learned about the Destroyers during their war 200,000 years ago. Perhaps, somewhere in that information there is the vital clue that can win this struggle.

JANEWAY smiles at SEVEN, who nods gravely, sensible of the immense weight on her shoulders.

JANEWAY

[Rousingly] The Borg may be trying to sit out of this one, but we have proven ourselves their equal time and time again. This is it, people: the time you keep on reading about in the history texts. This is the moment that will define future history for millennia to come. Either we win this war [beat, gravely] or the future ends, here and now.

JANEWAY looks around at her senior officers, her crew, her friends, the only family she is ever likely to have.

JANEWAY

I will just say this. [Proud] I have never served with a finer, more capable, more professional or more courageous crew. Time and time again, we have done the impossible. [Mischievous] So, let’s do it again! [Firm] I know that you will continue to do the highest traditions of Starfleet, and me, proud. Janeway out.

The CREW scatter to their stations. JANEWAY sits in her chair, straight and proud, much to CHAKOTAY’s approval.

JANEWAY

Signal yellow alert. [LIGHTS and SOUNDS – Yellow Alert] All departments, status reports.

PARIS

All drive systems operational. Full manoeuvrability is available in all flight modes.

TUVOK

All weapons and shielding systems operational. Targeting sensors are at optimum efficiency. All combat teams are armed and standing by.

TORRES (v/o)

Main power fully available. Secondary power is on immediate standby. Auxiliary generators are ready. All batteries are charged.

WILDMAN

All sensor systems read green. Once we are clear of the supernova remnant, all sensors will be at maximum efficiency.

SEVEN

Borg modifications to power and tactical systems read nominal. Hull auto-regeneration nano-probes are armed and ready.

KIM

All stations read manned. Stand-by and emergency crews all ready.

JANEWAY

[Proud] Good. Mr. Paris: set course 042 mark 067, ahead Warp 4 until we clear the supernova remnant, then decelerate to Warp 1. Lt. Wildman, prepare for full sensor sweep.

The CREW reply with the appropriate “Aye, Captain,” making JANEWAY smile.

F/X – The voyager leaps to warp speed away from the supernova remnant.

INT. BRIDGE

WILDMAN checks the sensors as the ship races forward.

KIM

We are clearing the worst of the interference, Ma’am.

JANEWAY

[Rising] Slow to Warp 1, Mr. Paris. Lt. Wildman, begin sweep with passive sensors only.

WILDMAN

Commencing sensor sweep. [Pause] Damn!

JANEWAY walks over to WILDMAN’s station.

JANEWAY

What is it Sam?

WILDMAN

It looks like our playmate has called his friends. There are at least thirty Destroyer vessels detectable to passive sensors, all surrounding the anomaly.

JANEWAY

[Wry] Well, I wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.

CHAKOTAY

So I suppose we go about building an alliance.

KIM

[Urgent] Captain! I am picking up an all-frequency distress call. Captain, it’s the Adronai. They say they’re under attack by ships that match known Destroyer designs.

JANEWAY

[Firm] Mr. Paris, alter course for the Adronai homeworld and accelerate to Warp 9.6. Let’s hope we can make a difference.

F/X – The Voyager accelerates away and vanishes into the distance

CONTINUITY

To be continued, next time on Star Trek – Voyager!

In Conclusion…

So, what do you think? Should I continue, or desist in wasting my time on this pap? J

Feedback? Ooh, yes! I crave it at BenRG@RGFlat.freeserve.co.uk

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Roots

By asbailey | Published July 11, 2004

ROOT AND BRANCH

By A.S. Bailey

 

Captain  Janeway, steadily working her way through the accumulated paperwork–who would have thought it would still be such a trial, all these thousands of light years from home? And why was it still called paperwork, when no paper was involved?–wiped sweaty hands down her trouser legs and pushed a damp lock of hair off  her forehead. A few paragraphs further on she repeated the action, and this time it registered with her conscious mind. Her ready room was undoubtedly too warm.

“Computer, reduce cabin temperature by five degrees,” she called, and was rewarded by the system’s audible twinkle. In a few minutes the room had become more comfortable, and she carried on her work.  After about half an hour she sat back with a sigh of relief, and got up briskly to return to the bridge and some more interesting activity, she hoped. The door slid open and she stepped through–into a wall of heat like a slap in the face.

“My God!” she exclaimed, with uncharacteristic abruptness. “Why is it so hot out here?”

“It does seem a bit warm,” Harry Kim agreed. “I thought it was just me.”

“No, indeed, Ensign,” said Tuvok. “The temperature on the bridge is approximately 3 degrees Celsius above normal.”

“My ready room was hot as well,” said Janeway . “I  had the temperature reduced quite a while ago. Computer! Reduce bridge temperature to normal levels.”

“Unable to comply,” intoned the computer’s coolly feminine voice. “Climate control systems have malfunctioned.”

“Wonderful,” said Chakotay dryly. “That must be about the only system we haven’t had a major problem with so far. Bridge to engineering!”

“Engineering here,” came B’Elanna Torres sharp tones.

“B’Elanna, we’re reading a climate control malfunction. The bridge is five degrees above normal and won’t reduce.”

“I know,” said the engineer. “We’re overheating as well. There have been calls from all over the ship. I’ll try to trace the problem. Engineering out.”

Janeway glanced around the bridge at her perspiring crew.

“Well, until we get this sorted out I suggest we shut down unnecessary systems. Make sure that sickbay has priority for refrigerating perishable drugs–and then Neelix’s food stores. Tom, take the lights down a bit too–that should at least make it feel cooler.”

“Aye, Captain,” came the ready replies.

She sat down in the command chair with a small sigh. Chakotay glanced over with his gentle smile. She returned it ruefully.

“Now I suppose we just wait to find out what vital components have burned out.”

“Afraid so!” he grinned.

It wasn’t a very long wait. Within an hour B’Elanna had reported that she and the head of environmental control, Lt. Sian Evans, had tracked down the problem.

“It’s the temperature control system itself that’s gone,” she told a meeting of senior officers. “Normally the physical components would be replaced  during the ship’s annual overhaul. Naturally we haven’t been able to do anything like that. We’ve had to concentrate on things like propulsion and computer problems, and replacing anything that’s actually broken down.”

“I see,” said the captain. No point in apportioning blame now. B’Elanna was right–they didn’t have the luxury  of replacing parts that were simply worn or due for repair. “So what effect will this have on the ship?”

Torres turned to the environmental head, who responded quickly if somewhat nervously. She was a slim, dark young woman. A wavy halo of dark hair framed a thin pale face dusted across the bridge of the nose with freckles which made her look very young. The only remarkable feature she had was her eyes, velvet dark with unexpected amber highlights, and deep enough to drown in. The long dark lashes that framed them made them look twice as big.  Despite her relatively senior status she had had little to do with the command crew and she was somewhat overawed. Despite this her report was concise and professional.

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can adjust or reprogram,” she explained. “At the moment there’s nothing actually wrong with the systems that control our temperature and so on. It’s the climate control unit itself that’s gone–or at least going. Some of the components have just physically worn out.”

“And those are?” asked Janeway.

 

“Well, Captain, the most important are these.” B’Elanna tipped the contents of the container she was carrying into one small hand and displayed it to the officers. It looked like a small pile of greenish-gold crumbs. They glittered and flashed as her hand moved.

“What’s that?” asked Chakotay.

“It’s what left of the  chrysotile sheets in the heating unit.”

Tom Paris raised his eyebrows. “Chrysotile?” he enquired.

“A crystalline form of serpentine,” said Tuvok helpfully.

Paris continued to look blank.

“Used in the same way as asbestos used to be employed.”

Paris’ expression still didn’t change.

“For insulation and fire proofing,” said Tuvok with a hint of impatience.

“Oh.”

Evans nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I know it sounds odd, but chrysotile has been found to be the most effective  substance for controlling the heat flow.”

“So we replicate some.”

Torres shook her head.

“Wrong. We’ve never been able to replicate chrysotile properly.”

“To be dependent on a substance which cannot be replicated is inefficient,” said Seven of Nine unhelpfully. B’Elanna cast her an exasperated look, and carried on as if she had not been interrupted.

“So that’s why we’re still using the real thing. ”

“And why it has to be replaced at each overhaul,” Janeway finished the thought. “So we need to find some. How do we do that?”

“It is a relatively common mineral,” said Tuvok . “A survey of the nearest planets should reveal a usable source.”

“Agreed,” said Janeway.  “Let’s get on it.”

“There’s another problem,” said Torres quickly

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” said Paris quietly.

Janeway silenced him with a quick look.

“OK, B’Elanna, let’s hear it.”

Torres and Evans exchanged glances.

“Well, Captain,” B’Elanna began, “It’s not just a matter of the temperature becoming uncomfortable. Other systems will start to be affected  soon. And it will be some of the sensitive ones that go first.”

“Like scanners.” said Chakotay flatly.

B’Elanna nodded. “And transporters.”

Janeway ran a hand across her face. The heat was making it hard to think. She forced herself  to formulate a plan of action.

“Well, then we’ll have to work fast. Tuvok, you and Harry get to work on those scanners while they’re still working and find us a planet with some chrysotile on it. Chakotay, liaise with the department heads and get everything turned off that we can. Keep only a skeleton crew working, and instruct everyone else to relax and  do as little as possible, to reduce the heat we’re producing. Tell Neelix to stop cooking. B’Elanna, will this affect the engines?”

“Not really,” the engineer admitted.

“In any case, by the time it does you’ll all have died from heat exhaustion,” said the Doctor cheerfully.

“Finally, some good news,” said Janeway sourly.

“I’m afraid the holographic emitters are likely to become unreliable too,” said Chakotay. His face was blandly innocent, but there was a spark of  mischief in the glance he exchanged with the captain. “I think it would be best if you shut down your program, doctor. For the time being, at least. We can reinitialise you if there’s an emergency.”  The Doctor sputtered indignantly but had to agree. There was a slight smile on Janeway’s face as she carefully placed his mobile emitter on the table in front of her.

“Right then.  Tom, stick with Tuvok and Harry and get us to that planet at maximum warp. Don’t wait for orders.”

“Sounds good to me!” grinned Paris.

“Dismissed,” said Janeway. “Let’s get moving on this.”

The meeting dispersed rapidly.  For some time it seemed as if  they would work their way out of the situation with a minimum of difficulty. Tuvok’s scans revealed a type M planet relatively close by  that seemed to have the requisite chrysotile deposits. With the ship underway  Janeway  called Chakotay, Torres and Evans to the ready room.

“Right,” she began. “We’ve found a planet, and  preliminary scans show that there is at least one large chrysotile deposit.  So how do we get at it? Lt.  Evans?”

Evans thought quickly.

“Well, it depends on how deep the deposit is.  We don’t actually need very much.  It just has to be in fairly good sized pieces. Assuming we can clear any overburden with hand phasers, actually getting the stuff out  won’t take more than an hour or so.”

“Good,” said Janeway. “Chakotay, how long until we can determine the nature of the deposits?”

“Maybe an hour. Normally I’d say we’d be in scanner range  in twenty minutes or so, but we’re starting to  lose resolution.”

“I see,” Janeway turned to the engineer. “B’Elanna, can we get any more power out of the engines? It seems as if time is starting to run out.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Torres hurried out.

Janeway turned to the other two officers. “Now, as soon as we’re in orbit I want to be ready to send a team down. To limit the power drain I’m only going to send two people: you two.”  Chakotay  nodded. So did Evans, rather more slowly.  “Lt. Evans, do you think you’ll be able to handle the operation?”

“Yes, captain. At least…” The girl hesitated momentarily. “I’ve handled the finished product, and I know how to deal with that. But I’ve never done this sort of extraction before.”

“None of us has,” said Chakotay reassuringly. “But I’m sure that between us we can shift a few kilos of rocks!” Evans managed a small grateful smile. Janeway nodded approvingly at her first officer.

“Good.  Lieutenant, you join Harry and start mapping the deposits.  If there’s a choice we need to make the right one.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Evans hurried out. Janeway watched her go.

“She looks nervous” she remarked.

Chakotay nodded. “I don’t think she’s ever been involved in a mission like this. But she’s a good officer. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Janeway smiled gratefully at him. “Do you have this sort of confidence in all the crew?”

“Not all,” Chakotay teased. “It depends how much they pay me!”

 

From this relatively high point the situation began to deteriorate.  As Voyager moved closer to the planet the scanners became so unreliable that Harry Kim could only give approximate co-ordinates   for two chrysotile deposits.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” he said ruefully. “We just can’t get any more detail. I can’t even tell you how deep they are.  For what it’s worth, the scans we did earlier  seemed to show that the deposit in the northern hemisphere is pretty close to the surface.”

“Pretty close?” inquired Tuvok dryly.

“You’ll need to do better than that, Harry,” said Chakotay with a grin.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Harry again. “The best we could get was the deposit was within a couple of meters of the surface.”

“Well, as long as we get beamed down close enough we should be able to clear that,” said Chakotay cheerfully. Evans looked slightly dubious.

“Captain, I…” Paris was beginning, when Torres’ voice over the com link interrupted.

“Captain!” Torres’ voice came agitatedly over the com link.

“Yes, B’Elanna?”

“We’re losing the transporters. I don’t think it will be safe to beam the away team down.”

Janeway rolled her eyes. “This is getting beyond a joke. Very well–Chakotay and Evans, you’ll need to take a shuttle.  That is, assuming the launch systems still work. Tom?”

“At the moment they seem fine, Captain” said the young man readily. “But I was about to say they’d need to take the shuttle anyway. I think it would be better if we didn’t go into orbit. At the rate our systems are going we might not be able to break out again.”

The silence fell like a stone as they considered the implications of that flat statement, and for an instant each saw his fear mirrored in the faces around him. Then the captain resolutely shook herself free of her apprehensions.

“Well, that’s one decision made for us. And once you’re in the shuttle you should get a clearer picture of the situation.

“Right,” said  Chakotay, getting to his feet. “We’d better get moving. Lt. Evans, you’re with me.  Engineering?”

“Yes sir?”

“Get a couple of phaser rifles onto a shuttle.” He turned to Walsh. “That should help us get the overburden shifted, right?”

“Yes sir,” she said briskly. “If the deposit is any deeper than that I doubt we’d be able to get it without special mining equipment.”

“Then let’s get going.”

Janeway accompanied them to the shuttle bay.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay in contact,” she said. “The shuttle’s systems should be fine once you’ve disengaged from the ship, but our range is dropping fast..”

“I understand. How long do we have?”

“At the moment our prediction is that the ship will be uninhabitable within twenty-four hours,” said Janeway sombrely. “The problem is, we don’t know which systems may be affected before then. If life support or the inertial dampeners cut out suddenly…”

“I understand.” Chakotay glanced at his companion. “WE understand, captain. We’ll be as quick as we can.”  Janeway nodded,  and Evans  saw a brief glance lock between the two. Then Chakotay turned and let the way onto the shuttle.

As the first officer guided them smoothly out of the shuttle bay and down toward the planet, Evans was conscious of a barely suppressed sense of panic.  Besides the crushing sense of the importance of the mission, and a nagging doubt of her own abilities, she was quiveringly aware that for the first time she was alone with the man on whom she had had an embarrassingly adolescent crush from the day he had joined Voyager’s crew.  Despite her shyness Evans was friendly and popular, but  unlike many of her crewmates she had never formed a romantic attachment to any of her colleagues. There were times she was convinced that this was because always, at the back of her mind, was an image of  Chakotay, his calm strength, his kindness, his humour…she became aware that he was speaking.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” she said hastily. “What was that again?”

He eyed her curiously.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir. I’m fine. Just a little nervous.”

“Well, that’s OK. So am I.”

Evans stared at him. “You are?”

“Of  course.  This is an important and difficult mission. Who wouldn’t be nervous?”

“Tuvok,” said Evans, without thinking. Chakotay laughed as the blush surged over her face.

“You’re probably right.  Anyway,” he tapped a few more commands into the panel. “The point  is how we do the job, not how we feel about it. ”

“I guess you’re right, sir.”

“In any case,  these scanners seem to be functioning normally. Once we make orbit we can get a better look at our site—see what kind of mining operation we’re in for.”  He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms above his head. “At least we’re out of the steam bath for a while. That’s a plus.”

“It certainly is, sir,”  she said fervently. The shuttle’s environmental system seemed unaffected by Voyager’s problems, and even at normal settings seemed pleasantly cool.

Chakotay smiled.

“You don’t have to ‘sir’ me quite so much, you know,” he said pleasantly. “ I’ve never been very good in hot climates,” he went on. “I remember the first time my father took me to Central America. I was completely miserable. It was the first time I really understood why theycall it a rain forest. I didn’t think I’d ever get dry. It was only many years later that I realized the rainforest is one of the greatest miracles in the universe.”

The new note in his voice brought her head round sharply to study him more closely. For the first time she heard the echo of a hundred generations of his ancestors, who had never broken the fragile bond between themselves and the rest of the living universe. It was only a moment, and then he said lightly, “I still  prefer my weather temperate, though. How about you?”

She gave a rueful grin.

“I’m not very good at weather altogether,” she confessed.

“You’re not…what?” he asked, puzzled. “What do you mean? You must be used to some climate?”

“Not really. I’ve spent most of my life in artificial environments.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Where are you from?”

“From?” she repeated foolishly. The dimple in Chakotay’s cheek flashed as he grinned.

“Yes, from,” he said evenly. “You know? Your point of origin?”

“Oh, yes, I see. Sorry.” She pulled herself together. “Well, I spent most of my childhood on DS5. My father was commander and my mother worked in operations.”

“Was your father Ashley Evans?”

She nodded.

“I’ve heard of him. A good man.”

“Yes, he was. Then Mom was transferred to the Hood, so I spent a few years there with her. Then we went back to DS5 until I entered the Academy.”

“So you’re a true space brat.”

“Through and through,” she agreed

Her companion looked thoughtful. “Don’t you miss having a permanent home? Some place you have a tie to?”

She shrugged. “You don’t miss what you’ve never had.”

“I suppose so. But it seems odd to me. My people’s whole ethos is based on our tie to the land, to the places of our ancestors. That’s what we live for—and even die for.  That’s how I ended up in the Maquis.”

Sian felt a bit embarrassed at the turn the conversation had taken, but at the same time she was intrigued.

“But your people left the land they had occupied for centuries to go to the colonies in the DMZ,” she pointed out.

“True,” said Chakotay. “But really we had been displaced from our lands for centuries. And even then it wasn’t a decision that was taken lightly.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t. But it was taken all the same. And not too many years later you were ready to die for the new place. Would you have done the same for the old lands, places you didn’t really know?”

Chakotay blinked, then smiled slowly.

“Do you know, I’m not sure. I think so—but it wouldn’t be the same thing.”

“So what’s important is just in your head. It’s for you to decide. There isn’t some mystic tie to a place or a planet unless you think there is.”

“I suppose you’re right.” His smile became a grin. “I hope you realise that you’ve just destroyed my whole life’s philosophy!”

In her interest Evans had forgotten her self-consciousness, but now it came back with a rush. Her eyes widened in consternation.

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean…I mean…I never intended…”

Chakotay hastened to reassure her.

“No, don’t worry, I was just joking. Actually, I find your point of view interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to someone who didn’t have a tie to a planet of some sort.”

“In point of fact, sir, I don’t like planets all that much,” she admitted. Chakotay’s eyebrows rose.

“You don’t?  Why not?”

“I don’t really know.” She considered in silence for a moment. “I’ve never really thought about it. I guess…I guess they don’t feel safe. It always seems so exposed—so uncontrollable.”

“Exposed?” said Chakotay incredulously. “Look around you, lieutenant. It doesn’t get more exposed than this.”

“I know, I know. I never said it made much sense. But that’s just the way it feels to me. I deal in environmental systems, Commander, not environments. In my head I know that a ship or space station is an unnatural place to live, but somehow it feels—easier. Maybe because it’s a finite, contained environment. And it can be controlled.”

“Up to a point,” Chakotay pointed out. ”Look at us now.”

“I know what you mean,” she admitted. “But at least we can do something about it. Or at least try to. If your planet starts to suffer major climatic changes there’s nothing you can do.”

Chakotay considered this in silence for a few minutes, while the surface of the planet slid beneath them.

“Interesting,” he said at last. “I’ve never thought of it that way. To me your planet is the source—the basis for your whole psyche.”

“We’re back to minds again.” She shrugged slightly. “I’ve never really known a planet, so I don’t have that basis.”

“Well, I think you’re going to get a chance to know one now,” said Chakotay. “Entering orbit.”

The viewscreen showed a small, blue-green planet, unremarkable except for its satellite: a single moon, larger than Earth’s and orbiting much more closely. Beneath them the panorama slipped past: a large, roughly triangular continent in the northern hemisphere  and an irregular series of large islands to the south.

Evans turned back to study her own panel.

“I’ve got the co-ordinates they came up with for the deposit on the northern continent.”

“Harry thought that one was close to the surface, didn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

“Let’s check it out first, then.  Plotting a course. We’ll be in scanner range in a few minutes.” Skilfully he piloted the shuttle down through the thickening atmosphere.

 

 

Captain Janeway shifted uneasily in her seat. She had never realized how sticky it could be. As the rising temperature made the ship more and more uncomfortable, she had told the crew to get out of uniform and dress as comfortably as they could, provided it was safe. Taking her own advice, she had donned a light sundress she wore for holodeck luaus, and while she was marginally cooler there was no denying that the costume brought unusual areas of bare skin into contact with her usually comfortable chair. She glanced around the bridge. Even Tuvok, bred in the furnace heat of Vulcan, had loosened his tunic. Harry Kim wore shorts and a short sleeved shirt—and plainly felt ill-at-ease on duty in such a get-up. Janeway suppressed an affectionate smile. Tom Paris clearly had no such inhibitions, and was stripped to a pair of luridly patterned shorts. Even so, his fair skin was scarlet, and his blond hair, damp with sweat, stood up in spikes where he had scrubbed his fingers through it. He had a towel beside him, and now and then wiped his damp hands.

The Captain sighed, and eased out of the command chair with an audible tearing noise.  “Ouch,” she muttered. “Tuvok, what’s our current situation?”

The Vulcan checked one or two readouts.  “Our rate of systems failure is increasing, Captain. We are continuing to lose sensor accuracy and communications. The holo emitters are now so unreliable that I would not recommend activating the Doctor. We have shut down all except vital systems and reduced activity to a minimum, but the ambient temperature on board has increased 2 degrees in the last hour.”

“How long have we got?” asked Kim apprehensively.

“At the present rate of increase, the temperature on Voyager will be too hot to sustain humanoid life in approximately 12 hours.”

Tuvok’s words dropped into a leaden silence.

“This is ridiculous!” Harry cried angrily. He gestured toward the forward viewscreen. “Here we are, a few centimeters from the absolute zero of space, and we’re going to be baked to death!”

“Too bad we can’t open a window,” Paris remarked, in the dry drawl he used to defuse a tense situation.

“In any case, Ensign,” Tuvok said calmly  “The area of space within a solar system such as this is generally well above absolute zero, due to the proximity of the sun…”

Harry snorted in exasperation, and Janeway raised her hands for calm.

“Gentlemen, let’s not create any more heat. No one is going to get baked, Harry. We just have to hang on until Chakotay and Evans get back. They didn’t think the job would take very long. Tuvok, can we…” Her voice trailed into silence as an impression at the back of her mind suddenly leapt forward.

“Captain?”

She held up a hand again, and turned slowly towards Paris.

“Tom, say that again.”

He swung round in his seat, his fair handsome face puzzled.

“What was that, Captain?”

“What you said to Harry.”

“Uh…” His frown deepened. “Um…I just said it was too bad we couldn’t open a window. It was just meant as a joke, Captain. I’m sorry if…”

“No, no,” said Janeway, breaking into a smile. “I think you’ve got it. Open a window!” Her smile broadened at the puzzled looks her officers were exchanging. “Have we got enough helm and sensor control to land the ship?”

“Land it?” Paris was still at sea, but he automatically checked his board. “I think so, Captain. But…”

“Ah.” Tuvok was nodding approvingly. “I see your idea. Very good, Captain.”

Janeway flashed him a bright glance. “Don’t you see, Tom? We land the ship in a temperate area of the planet, preferably near the deposits Chakotay is headed for, shut down as much as possible, the open all the bays and airlocks.”

An appreciative grin spread across Paris’ face as Tuvok said,

“An excellent idea, Captain.  Many of our systems will return to normal operation once they have cooled down, and we should be able to effect repairs to many others. And, should Commander Chakotay not be successful, our chances of survival will undoubtedly be much higher on the surface than here in space.”

“Nothing like looking on the bright side,” muttered Harry Kim.

“Right,” said Janeway. “Let’s give this a try while we still can. Tom, prepare for landing.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Harry, can you raise the shuttle?”

The young man looked doubtful.

“There’s not much left in communications, but I’ll try.”

“Try narrowing the beam and stepping up power, if you can.  We need to get this one through. Tell them what we’re doing. With luck, we’ll be landing fairly close to them.”

“In any case, it should be relatively easy to get communications back on line once we’re down,” Tuvok pointed out.

“Let’s hope so,” Janeway glanced back at Harry Kim. “Any luck?”

“I’m not sure. I think I got at least part of the message through, but there’s no response. I don’t even think we’d pick one up.”

Janeway felt a momentary qualm, but suppressed it as she said briskly,

“Tuvok, channel all available power to helm and deflectors. I want us to get there in one piece. Tom, plot the quickest course to the co-ordinates Chakotay and Evans are heading for.”

“Aye, Captain,” they chorused.

“All hands, this is the captain. We are going to attempt to land the ship. Second shift crew to engineering—we’re going to need everything that’s left in those engines. The rest of you—just hang on. It may be a rough ride.”  She sat down firmly in her chair and gave Paris a quick nod.

“Take her down, Tom.”

An unaccustomed silence filled the bridge, broken only by Paris’ occasional reports. He was all business now, and even in her limping state he piloted the ship with consummate skill.

“Entering planet’s atmosphere…I’ve got the co-ordinates  but I’ll have to get in pretty close before I can choose a landing site…” Voyager began to shake slightly, as the reduced deflectors fought the thickening atmosphere. “OK, we’re coming in…Looks like a temperate forest zone, but there’s plenty of open space…”

“How much detail are you getting on the scans?” asked Janeway.

“Enough.”  He tossed her a quick grin. “I’m not going to put us down in a lake, captain.”

“If you do, you’re mopping up. Engage landing struts..”

“Struts engaged. Here we go!”

The buffeting increased slightly, and on the forward screen details of the landscape flashed by. The pitch of the engines dropped as Paris slowed their descent, and Janeway saw green hills and a tumble of bare rock sliding beneath them, before they dropped into a wide meadowlike area and rocked to a halt. She realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out with a whoosh.

“Well done, Tom.”

She turned to Tuvok. “Damage report?”

“None, Captain. Or at least no more than when we started our descent.”

“Good. Tom, secure the ship for landing and shut all flight systems down.” Paris’ eyebrows lifted.

“All of them, Captain?”

“All,” she said firmly. “We’ll deal with re-heating the warp core later. Right now I want everything cooling off.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Tuvok, organize crews to get every port and hatch opened. Make sure they’re all covered by security teams. Then draw up a rota so everyone gets some time outside as well as doing repair and security details. Send Neelix out with the first batch and see if we can pick up any food supplies.” Janeway headed briskly for the turbolift.  “Harry, you’re with me. We’ll meet B’Elanna in Engineering and see how bad things really are.” Before the doors slid shut she threw a smiling glance around the bridge and added, “Well, come on, people. Let’s get those windows open!”

When they were gone, Paris turned back to his board and, almost hesitantly, touched some rarely used controls. The ship sighed into unaccustomed silence. The almost subliminal hum and throb of the engines, felt rather than heard, disappeared, and its absence was louder than its presence had ever been. It was as if Voyager’s heart had ceased to beat, and in every mind was an instant’s chill worry that it might never start again.

Characteristically, it was Tuvok who recovered his equilibrium first.

“Mr. Paris, I suggest we open the port and starboard maintenance hatches. Then, as your skills at the helm are for the moment redundant, perhaps you can be of service in Sickbay.”

Paris grimaced at the Vulcan’s choice of words, but willingly applied himself to the release clamps of the maintenance hatch, stiffened with long disuse. Tuvok’s Vulcan strength, he noticed sourly, had no problem with the other hatch. Finally, with a clang, he shoved the clamps over and pushed the hatch aside. A grateful coolness, laden with the scent and sound of flowing water, washed over him.

“That’s better,” he said cheerfully.

Tuvok nodded. “Indeed. Conditions are definitely becoming more comfortable.”

Paris eyed him curiously. “I thought Vulcans preferred it hot.”

An expression almost of distaste crossed the security officer’s impassive face. “Vulcan is a desert planet. While temperatures can be very high, it is almost invariably dry. We are less accustomed to conditions such as these, with high humidity and…perspiration”

“Oh, come on, Tuvok,” grinned Paris. “Nothing wrong with a bit of honest sweat.”

“Perhaps not. But it has little to recommend it at close quarters.”

“Well, I’ve got to agree with you there. I’ll get down to sickbay, then.”

As Paris stepped into the turbolift he heard Tuvok’s measured tones echo over the intercom:

“The following personnel are to report to the shuttle bay  for security assignments…”

 

 

On the shuttle, Chakotay and Evans were puzzling over the fragmentary message they had received from Voyager.

“That’s the best I can do, sir,” said Evans as she struggled with the comm. board. “It’s not a matter of cleaning it up at this end. Their broadcast was patchy. The comm. systems must be breaking down.”

Chakotay nodded, his eyes on the viewscreen as their tiny ship moved closer to the surface.

“It sounded as if they were going to land the ship.”

“I heard ‘we’re going’ and then ‘land’ and ‘your’ something—co-ordinates, probably.”

“That’s about what I got. They must be going to land Voyager near where we’re headed.”

“But why?”

He shrugged. “Safer on the ground than in space if the life support fails, I guess”

“Sir!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that as brutally as it sounded.” He gave her a quick concerned glance. “But think about it—it does make sense. Once we’ve got things repaired, we can take off again.”

“And if we don’t manage the repairs?”

“Then the crew is safe on land, rather than dying in space.”

“That was a bit brutal, too,” she said with uncertain humor.

“But true, at least.” A warning bleep from his console interrupted him. He hastily checked his readings.

“There’s a storm coming up. Looks like a big one. We’d better change course.” He worked the controls frantically.   “No good—it’s too big and too fast. My God! I’ve never seen anything like this. Maybe you were right about uncontrolled nature. Hang on!”

The shuttle grew suddenly dark as the storm roared up around them. Chakotay worked desperately, using all his piloting skills to keep them on a reasonably even keel, but there was little he could do. They were swept along like a leaf in a torrent. Sian abandoned her console and concentrated on keeping her seat. The buffeting grew worse.

“The inertial dampeners can’t take much more of this!” Chakotay shouted over the increasing scream of the storm and the creaking and groaning of the hull. “Maybe I can set us down somewhere.”

There was a brief gap in the storm, an instant’s uncanny silence in which the ship dropped sickeningly They both cried out, and then the storm caught them again. Abruptly something caught the base of the shuttle, flinging them sideways. Sian managed to lock her arms around a strut, but Chakotay was thrown heavily across the cabin. There was a cacophony of creaking and tearing metal, and a rattling and banging of rocks or other material outside. They were slewed around ninety degrees and slammed heavily into something, then fell, rolling over one or twice before they landed with a shattering crash on their side, rocked back and forth a few times, and were finally still.

Sian had not lost consciousness, but she almost wished she had. Every muscle in her body felt wrenched and her head ached where she had banged it on the console. It took a few moments to persuade her arms to relax their grip on her seat. Then she clambered awkwardly down to what was now the floor of the shuttle, where Chakotay lay unconscious. He was bleeding heavily from a cut on his forehead and one leg was bent  at a sickeningly unnatural angle. Sian scrabbled hastily for a medkit and ran the tricorder over him with shaking hands. The results weren’t as bad as she had feared. The cut, though deep, was clean and there was no concussion. His leg was broken, however. She carefully cleaned and bandaged the head wound, then turned her attention to the leg. There was no bone knitter in the medkit, but it was a clean break, and if she could get it straightened and splinted it would do until they got back to the ship…if they ever did…she bit down hastily on the thought. Setting her teeth, and glad for the first time that he was knocked out,  she carefully pulled Chakotay’s leg straight and fitted the splint around it. Once adjusted it automatically inflated and stiffened to protect and support the leg. She managed to wrench a cushion loose from one of the seats and put it under Chakotay’s head. Then she covered him with an emergency blanket. She checked the tricorder again. His vital signs were stable, and there was nothing to do now but wait for him to wake naturally.

Next she turned her attention to the shuttle. A few frustrating minutes convinced her that they were not going to fly out. The warp engines were completely dead—there must have been some damage to one of the nacelles. The computer was offline and there was only minimal emergency battery power. Her comm. badge was still working, but failed to produce any response. Voyager must be out of range. Nevertheless, she set the badge to broadcast a distress signal.

The forward screen was dark, buried under snow or debris. The sound of the storm had died away outside, so she decided she’d better go out and assess the situation. There wasn’t much cold weather gear in the storage lockers, but she found some gloves and wrapped herself in another blanket. The hatch refused to open normally, but she managed to force it partially open with the manual release and levered it farther by sheer brute force. She debated whether to close it again: she didn’t want to let the heat out of the cabin, but was worried about being able to open it again from outside. Eventually she compromised and left the pick handle she’d used as a crow bar wedged into the hatch.

Outside, Sian gazed helplessly at the surrounding desolation. Clearly they had been driven far off course by the storm. The shuttle lay on its side among the scree at the base of a sheer cliff.  As she had suspected, one nacelle had been partially torn loose, its support struts torn and twisted. That alone would have caused an automatic shutdown, to prevent a matter/anti-matter explosion. Otherwise the sturdily built craft, though dented here and there by the fall, seemed undamaged. It was half buried in a snowdrift, the forward end completely buried.

Away from the cliff stretched an undulating snowy wilderness. The sun, declining towards evening, spread deceptively warm washes of light across the plain, with lavender-grey shadows outlining every hummock or boulder. Sian shivered and wrapped the blanket more closely around her, then crunched away across the snow to see if she could find out anything about the country on the cliff above. However, she didn’t want to go too far from the shuttle or leave Chakotay for long. After about five minutes walk she stopped and looked around her.  She could see over the top of the bluff now, but there was little there except broken, rocky landscape softened with snow, and in the distance a dark mass that might be trees. Few things are as silent as a snowy landscape, and when Sian stopped walking there was no sound except the faint hiss of blood in her ears, and an even fainter whine as tiny particles of snow were driven across the drifts by the faint breeze. There was no sign of animal or bird life. There was something eerie in the frozen stillness, and she hastened back to the relative security of the shuttle.

Once there, she unearthed a shovel from the digging gear they had brought along, and began clearing the snow and rubble from the top of the shuttle and the forward screen. It was slow, heavy work and when it was finished she was exhausted and sweating heavily, but at least they would now be visible from the air. The metallic hull should wink like a beacon, and the call letters were clear too. With the screen clear the daylight would filter into the cabin—at least while it lasted—and save their batteries.

Back inside, Sian shut the hatch firmly and settled herself as comfortably as possible in the alcove where Chakotay lay, still unconscious. She dug out some emergency rations and slowly ate a small amount. Now that she could relax a bit, she was suddenly achingly aware of the twinge in every abused muscle, and wearier than she’d ever been. To take her mind off it, she idly studied Chakotay’s sleeping face more closely than she would have dared if he were awake. There was grey salting the close cropped hair, and laugh lines deepening beside his eyes. Otherwise it was a strong, ageless face, showing in repose more of the power and stoicism of his race than when his lively eyes lit it. Only the cupid’s bow mouth was incongruous, oddly delicate and sensitive. Moved by an impulse she didn’t dare examine, Sian leaned over and kissed him lightly. At the touch he stirred and murmured briefly, and  the jolt of adrenaline shock slammed her back.  He didn’t wake up, however, and eventually the thumping of her heart slowed to normal, and she relaxed against the wall.

After about ten minutes Chakotay stirred and opened his eyes, looking groggily around him. He turned his head painfully and saw Sian seated against the bulkhead with her knees drawn up and her arms draped over them. Her head was tilted wearily back against the wall, but she lifted it as she heard the movement.

“What happened?” he whispered.

“We crashed in the storm,” she said. “Everything’s out. You’ve got a bad cut on your head and a broken leg.”

“Oh.” Chakotay tried to assimilate this information.  “Did I—did you—did I imagine it, or did you kiss me a little while ago?”

Sian was too tired even to feel embarrassed. She said simply,

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said again. “Why?”

“Didn’t reckon I’d ever have another chance..”

There was something strange about all this, but Chakotay found the effort to examine it too much. So much easier to just accept it.

“Fair enough” he murmured, and slid back into unconsciousness.

 

 

Down in engineering, Janeway was pleased to find that their situation warranted a little cautious optimism

“Most of the systems we were having trouble with will be operating normally again once their temperature has dropped,” Torres explained. “A few minor components have burnt out but they’re easily replaced. The problem is, unless we repair the heating system itself, once we start everything up we’ll start having the same problems again.”

Janeway nodded.

“I realise that. But one thing at a time. Let’s repair everything we can. And I want communications up and running as soon as possible, so we can contact the shuttle. Tom tried to put us down as close to the co-ordinates they were aiming for as possible, but at the moment we can’t tell how accurate he was.”

“No problem, Captain,” said the chief engineer. She beckoned to Harry Kim. “Come on, Harry. You and I will start on the comm. systems.”  Pausing only to shout a few orders at her busy crew, she led the young man out of engineering.

Janeway headed for the shuttle bay.  All around the ship she could hear the clang and hiss of airlocks and hatches opening. Moment by moment the air grew fresher, and illogically her spirits rose. Once communications were back on line it should be easy to contact the shuttle, and with the full resources of the ship on hand, surely they could get the chrysotile they needed without much trouble. With luck, they could be on their way in a day or two, and the repair schedule could be stretched to include some much needed shore leave.

In the shuttle bay, the force field had been shut down, and the first teams were scrambling down ladders to the surface. Janeway stood in the cavernous opening, peering out. The green area in which they had landed wasn’t as uniform as she thought. To her left it sloped to a narrow stream, swollen now over its banks into the grass on either side, and rushing along noisily. The ground nearby looked marshy, the growth more luxuriant than elsewhere. In front and to the right a dotting of bushes merged into denser cover, of various species but all surprisingly squat, gnarled and tough looking. Hills in the middle distance showed scars, some fresh, others older, where storms or landslips had scoured the trees away. It was a pleasant, peaceful spot, and Janeway smiled as she turned her head to greet Tuvok.

“We’ve picked a nice spot,” she remarked, gesturing to the scene outside.

“Indeed, Captain,” he returned. “The proximity to water may be useful, though our own supplies are currently adequate. And Mr. Neelix believes some of those trees may yield edible fruit.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” she said with a resigned smile,  “But go on. Life signs?”

“No signs of intelligent life. Indeed, there appears to be little land-based life beyond the plants and some insects. The  planet appears to be quite seismically active. I would postulate that it is in an early stage of evolutionary development.”

“You’re probably right. It’s interesting that everything is so low-growing—like tundra plants. But this seems to be a temperate zone.”

“Presumably  other conditions operate which make that survival strategy the most successful.”

“No doubt. How close are we to the co-ordinates of the chrysotile deposits?”

“If our readings were accurate, they should be approximately five kilometres in that direction.” He gestured towards the distant hills.

“Tom’s done us proud,” she said appreciatively.

Tuvok nodded.

“Despite his somewhat frivolous attitude, Mr. Paris’ piloting skills are considerable.”

Janeway regarded him quizzically.

“Coming from you, Tuvok, that’s practically a standing ovation.”

“Captain!” Harry Kim’s voice came urgently over the commlink. “We’ve got some external communications back.”

“Good work, Harry.”

“But, Captain, I can’t raise the shuttle! I’ve tried all frequencies. There’s no response at all!”

Janeway and Tuvok exchanged concerned glance.

“We’re on our way up. Keep trying.”

“Aye, Captain.”

A few minutes later she fairly rocketed onto the bridge, Tuvok at her heels. One glance at Harry’s face was enough to tell her there was no good news. With an effort she forced herself to consider the situation logically.

“Right. Let’s look at the possibilities. Harry, are communications back to full power?”

“Not yet. But we’ve got enough range to cover most of the planet and the immediately surrounding area of space. If they’re in orbit or down here, they should be receiving.”

“Suppose they’re not. If they’ve gone back to our last position, where we were when they launched, would they be out of range?”

“Yes, I suppose they would. But why would they go back there, if they knew we were landing?”

“Maybe they didn’t. You weren’t sure if the message got through.” She held up a hand to forestall his next comment. “I know it’s not likely, but we need to explore every possibility. So keep on working to extend the comm. range.”

“Aye, captain.”

She turned away, stepping down into the central well of the bridge.

“Assuming that our communications are working properly as far as they reach, it could be a problem with the shuttle’s system. Bridge to Engineering.”

“Torres here.”

“B’Elanna, could the shuttle’s comm. system  have been affected by the environmental problems in Voyager?”

“I doubt it, Captain. They’ve got a different heat exchange mechanism, and except for the computer tie in they’re completely independent. Why? Is there a problem?”

“We haven’t been able to make contact with Chakotay.”

“Oh.” Even over the comm. link the flat note in B’Elanna’s voice was audible. She saw the picture as clearly as the others did

“You keep working on the repairs,” said Janeway. “I’ll let you know if the situation changes.”

“Right,” said the engineer reluctantly. “Torres out.”

Tuvok had been working busily at his own station.

“Captain, I have succeeded in restoring partial scanners.” Janeway hurried over. “Their range and resolution is limited. However, I am not detecting any sign of debris or residual energy signatures indicative of an explosion or other disaster to the shuttle.”

“Thanks, Tuvok,” she said warmly, answering the implication rather than the words.

“However,” he went on with unwonted gentleness,  “It is still possible that the shuttle has been forced to land or crashed somewhere on the planet.”

“I know. Well, if  our machines won’t work we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way. We’d better send some teams on foot. Take some of the security people off the hatches—some of them can be closed, anyway, now that things are more comfortable. Use anyone not doing essential repairs. They can start from the chrysotile deposits and spiral out.

“Once you have the search parties deployed, take a team yourself and see what you can extract. Evans didn’t think it would be a long job. Once we have those baffles replaced we can power up and make a more effective search.”

Tuvok nodded, wasting no words in unmeaning sympathy. Janeway turned back to stare out of the viewscreen, at the unfamiliar vista of green hills. However personally, burningly important it might be to find Chakotay and Evans, she knew the ship and the rest of the crew had to come first. Well, repairs were underway, and with luck Tuvok would bring back the materials they needed to finish the job. She could concentrate more resources on finding the missing shuttle and its two passengers without feeling guilty. And find them they would! They can’t have gone, she raged silently. Not now, not like this. I promised I would get this crew home, and I will. All of them. Come on, Chakotay, where are you?

 

 

The storm struck just on the edge of dusk, as the Voyager crew was preparing for the shift to night duties. Tom Paris, having nothing that required his attention in sickbay, was on security detail in the shuttle bay. The  search parties had returned, unsuccessful. Tuvok’s group, however, had managed to extract a supply of the mineral which had caused them so much trouble, and had returned in some triumph. Paris sighed and shook his head.

“Chrysotile!” he muttered. He was lounging near the great bay doors, fuming between boredom, concern for his missing friends and frustration at his own helplessness. Suddenly everything grew dim. It took a few confused seconds for him to realise why: outside, black clouds were boiling up into the sky, pushing what was left of the evening light before them. He could see the rain they shed like a sheet of smoke below them. His ears popped, and, faster than he would have believed possible, the storm was on them. Driven by the hurricane force winds, the rain stung his face like needles. Instinctively he flung his hands up to protect his face, and was knocked off his feet by the gale. Already the deck was soaked and running with water.

Scrabbling foolishly, Paris managed to slide alongside the wall, out of the main force of the blast, and lever himself to his feet. Shakily he edged around to a control panel and re-energised the force field that normally sealed the bay in flight. Abruptly the howl of the storm was dulled, though he could still hear it beating outside. He stumbled for the door and stepped into the corridor, almost falling into Janeway’s arms.

“Tom!” she cried. “What happened to you? Your head…”

He became suddenly aware of his own condition. His uniform was soaked through, and his head ached. When he touched his forehead he felt the warm stickiness of blood.

“I must have hit my head when I fell,” he said muzzily. “The deck was so waterlogged…”

“Waterlogged?” asked the captain incredulously. Paris shook his head to clear it.

“Yes, captain. The storm blew up so fast—I’ve never seen anything like it. One minute quiet, peaceful evening in the countryside, the next hurricane. The wind knocked me over. And the deck was pretty well flooded before I could get the force field back up.”

“Well, I don’t suppose a little water is going to be much of a problem.”

She eyed his bedraggled appearance. “Go get a dry uniform, then get down to sickbay and take care of that cut.”

“Aye, captain.” he said gratefully.

Janeway touched her comm. badge as he dripped shiveringly away.

“Janeway to Tuvok.”

“Tuvok here.”

“Get a crew down to the shuttle bay to mop it up. It’s been flooded.”

“Immediately, Captain,” said the Vulcan imperturbably. “We have had similar problems elsewhere on the ship, wherever a hatch has been left open.”

Janeway sighed. As if they didn’t have enough to do already…

“I’m on my way up.”

On the bridge, she found her crew staring at a virtually unique sight:  Voyager’s main viewscreen was deluged, the rain streaming down it like a waterfall.

“What’s the status of the search parties.?”

“All back on board and accounted for. No luck.” said Kim, tersely.

Outside, the wind roared and whined, powerful enough in gusts to make the huge ship rock. It was an eerie, unsettling feeling.

“How are the repairs coming?”

“They are proceeding steadily,” said Tuvok. “Several small areas of the ship are somewhat water damaged, but the hatches have now been sealed, and cleanup operations are proceeding.”

He was interrupted by a crash of thunder directly overhead, startlingly loud. Almost simultaneously a crewman jumped and cursed as the comm. panel he was working on spat sparks. There was a momentary sweet whiff of ozone.

“The ship has been struck by lightening several times.” Tuvok continued imperturbably. “This has caused some additional minor damage, mostly to the communications system.”

Janeway felt her heart sink.

“How much time will that add to the repair?”

“Hard to say,” said Harry Kim. “Until the storm has passed and we stop getting zapped.”

“I think it’s passing now.” Janeway gestured to the viewscreen, where the rain had eased to a fine drizzle, and the clouds were parting to let in the level evening light.

“Well, if that’s all we’re going to get, I think we’ll have full communications back in about six hours.” Kim glanced for confirmation at the crewman, who nodded, still shaking his singed fingers.

“Well, that’s something.” Janeway stared at the screen, where the storm was already a distant mass of hazy black. “If storms like that are the norm around here, no wonder all the trees are low growing.”

“Captain? What if the shuttle was caught in a storm like that?” Harry’s voice was apprehensive. “They could have been driven way off course. They could be anywhere on the planet.” He didn’t add “Or even dead”, but they all felt the thought

“I know they could, Harry. So we’ll just have to go on looking.”

 

 

It was evening when Chakotay awoke again, and while his head ached it was clear enough. Moving very cautiously, he pushed himself into a sitting position. Sian, who was seated in the same attitude as he had last seen her, sat up quickly and moved across to help him.

“Good to see you awake, sir. How to you feel?”

“Awful,” said Chakotay feelingly. “My head’s thumping like an engine.” She dug a hypo out of the medkit, and he felt the cool hiss against his neck.

“That should help.”

“Thanks. How long have I been out?”

“About two hours.”

“Any change?”

“None. No sign of Voyager. I’m not even sure my comm. badge is still broadcasting.”

He glanced out  at the last of the light.

“Well, there’s not much we can do about it tonight. It’ll be too dark to work in a few minutes. We should have something to eat and get some sleep.”

“But, sir…if Voyager…”

He met her gaze solemnly.

“Sian, I’m going to be brutal again. If Voyager landed successfully, they’ll be repairing their systems and will find us much quicker than we’d find them. If they didn’t—then it won’t matter one iota whether we get some of our systems working tonight or tomorrow.” He went on in a lighter tone, “For what it’s worth, I think they made it. Tom Paris could land that ship blindfolded in the middle of a typhoon

“Meanwhile, our main concern is us. Have you noticed how much colder it’s getting in here?”

“I certainly have. No heaters, of course.”

“Of course. Well, are there any more blankets?”

A brief rummage produced one more. Then Sian had an idea.

“I can use a phaser to heat water. There should be coffee or tea in the food packs.”

“Good idea.”

They ate a little and drank the warming, reviving coffee. They both felt better for the food and drink, but Chakotay found that, as the painkiller Sian had given him took effect, his energy began to flag. Without the pain to keep him alert, his body needed to rest and recover. He ran his hands cautiously over his bruised face.

“I think I’d better lie down again.”

“Hang on” said Sian. She folded one of the blankets in two on the floor, as a makeshift mattress, then helped him settle down on it. She spread the second over him and wrapped the last around herself.

“More comfortable?”

“Yes, thanks. But…” He broke off, lifting his head.

“What is it?”

“Wind’s rising. I think the storm might be coming back.”

It was indeed. With surprising speed the light dimmed to the feeble pallor of a blizzard as the wind began to howl and buffet the shuttle. Sian’s teeth began to chatter, and not only with the cold. She clenched them tight, but that only transferred the trembling, and her whole body shook. She drew her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly, hoping to subdue or at least conceal  the tremors. But even in his battered condition Chakotay noticed her tension.

“Does the storm worry you?”

“A bit,” she replied shortly, jerking the words out before her voice could tremble.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Didn’t you say we were at the foot of a cliff?”

“Yes.”

“That will shelter us if the wind’s coming from that direction, and stop us being rolled from the other. Better than being in flight, really.”

She made no reply to this somewhat specious argument, and Chakotay shifted tack.

“I don’t want to belittle your fear, Sian,” he began carefully. “I know there’s no controlling these things. But I really don’t understand how you can spend your life with just a few centimetres of metal and force fields between you and instant death,  without any concern, but  a terrestrial storm…”

The storm was increasing in intensity, the wind whining and screaming around the shuttle. Occasionally  the little craft shook slightly in a stronger than usual gust. Sian was battling her rising fear and, at the same time, her angry embarrassment at her loss of control, at what her intelligence told her was a foolish and irrational worry. She  answered him almost savagely, forgetting considerations of rank.

“We’ve been over this before,” she snapped. “You don’t miss what you’ve never had, and you don’t fear what you’ve come to expect, and I’ll tell you this, Commander, I’ve never been as frightened in space as I am now!” She bit down hard on her lip, trying to wrap herself more tightly in the blanket. Chakotay studied her quietly for a moment, apparently unperturbed by her outburst, and then appeared to reach a decision. He shifted position cautiously, turning to lie on one side propped on his elbow.

“Come over here,” he said. Sian was startled out of her preoccupation.

“What?”

“I said, come over here.” He shook his head a little and grinned at her blank expression. “Lieutenant, it’s cold in here and by the sound of things it’s going to get a lot colder. It won’t be long before the coffee’s worn off. Our best chance is to wrap up together. Don’t you remember that from your survival training?”

“Well, uh…yes, of course, sir,” she said hesitantly. She scooted across and cautiously lay down beside him. He took her blanket and his own and spread the double layer over them. Then he relaxed with a sigh.

Sian lay beside him in tense silence. His big body seemed to radiate heat, and her shivering subsided as she grew warmer. At the same time, her mental unease grew. Chakotay was right, this was standard survival procedure, but it was too much like the fantasies she had sometimes indulged in…

Abruptly the wind rose to a tortured scream, and the snow outside turned to hail, rattling like old fashioned gunfire against the hull. The shuttle rocked, lifted a little, then smashed down again. Sian managed to stifle her scream, but Chakotay felt her body jolt and stiffen and instinctively wrapped his arm around her shoulder to hold her tight. Another hurricane gust jolted and dropped them.  Her last reserves of self control evaporated and to her own horror she burst out in uncontrollable sobs. Chakotay tightened his hold, turning her toward him. She clung to him desperately, her face buried in his shoulder. He cradled her gently, soothing her like a little child. Through her misery she was just aware of his touch, the strength of the arms that held her, the kind voice murmuring soothingly. She held onto that thread of comfort, using it to pull herself from the quicksand that threatened to engulf her. Slowly the violence of her sobs lessened, and some of the tension eased from her body. Her desperate grip no his tunic relaxed. She tried to move away, but his strong arm across her shoulders stopped her. She turned her face away, flinging an arm across her eyes.

“Oh, sir—I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” she stammered. Chakotay propped himself on his elbow again so he could look down at her. They were barely  visible to each other in the faint stormy light.

“Don’t worry about it. We all have our breaking point.”

She dragged the arm across her face, trying to wipe away the tears.

“Somehow I don’t think Starfleet expects its officers to be broken by a storm!” she said, trying to smile.

Chakotay gently stroked the tumbled hair back from her forehead.

“Starfleet is a long way from here, and I promise not to mention it in my report.” He touched her face lightly, brushing away the tears. “What I will say is that Lieutenant Evans behaved with great courage and resourcefulness in a difficult and dangerous situation.”

Startled amber flecked eyes lifted to meet his.

“Do you really mean it?”

“Of course I do. We all have our fears, Sian. The important thing is that you don’t let  them interfere with what you have to do. You behaved today exactly as Starfleet expects its officers to, and no one can do more than that.”

“Commander, I have tried—it’s not so much the accident—I think I could handle that—it’s these storms-even on Earth, with the weather control, I always had to go inside, almost hide. It’s so stupid—I’m so scared!”

Her whole body was trembling again, the words jerked out from between clenched teeth as fresh sobs threatened to overwhelm her. Chakotay felt his own worries recede and was filled with tenderness for this gallant, frightened woman. In the growing darkness he reached to softly touch her lips, murmured “Hush, now”, stooped his head and kissed her.

Sian’s mind and body had taken so many blows in the last few hours that she felt almost dizzy. Normally she would have been astonished and horrified and delighted at the turn of events. Now all she could do was surrender to the sensation of his lips on hers, and the warmth and power of his body, so close beside her. So many times she had imagined such a situation, and yet…and yet…Somewhere deep inside her a tiny calm core of her mind was watching and analysing.  Somehow she knew that what they felt was not desire, but the warm sweetness of mutual kindness and dependence. It lit a flame that warmed them both, body and soul, and held at bay the cold and the pain, the fear and the loneliness.

They clung together for a long time, while outside the storm slowly eased and moved away. As the turmoil outside subsided they grew slowly quiet and, still holding each other close, fell asleep.

Chakotay was awakened a few hours later by the percussive throbbing in his head and leg. He sat up gingerly, stifling a groan, and eased himself carefully along until he could reach the medkit. He found the hypo and gave himself another shot. The sky had cleared and the planet’s huge moon had shouldered up over the horizon, filling the shuttle with its cold light. His companion was still asleep, curled like a cat into a surprisingly small bundle. In the pure blanching light her tear stained face looked younger than ever, especially with those deep eyes hidden. Chakotay shook his head—and regretted it, as a wave of dizziness and nausea rolled through it. He knew that Starfleet put its cadets through a battery of physical and psychological tests to ensure they could stand up to the rigors of space, both the vast emptiness through which they travelled and, paradoxically, the somewhat claustrophobic conditions in which they lived. As far as he knew, they had never tested anyone to see how they stood up to planetary life. Perhaps they would have to start. Sian was one of the first of a new breed: true children of space, no longer allied to any planet. Humanity was endlessly adaptable. But sometimes when you adapt to one environment you lose the ability to function in another…a fish out of water…Chakotay rubbed his eyes. Well, as he had said before, Starfleet was a long way off, and the problem was here and now. He glanced down at the pale delicate face again. One thing was for sure—she wasn’t going to go through another experience like this again, if he could help it. They would have to work to overcome her fear, so that the next time she joined an away team…that was, if the two of them didn’t end up stranded here…but that was something he refused to contemplate. He knew the crew of Voyager too well. They’d get through this as they had so many other crises…he yawned suddenly. The pain was easing and he was feeling sleepy again. He lay back down cautiously, careful not to disturb his sleeping companion. He arranged the blankets as warmly as possible over both of them, and then relaxed gratefully into sleep.

 

 

Dawn found Voyager beginning to awaken from her enforced sleep. Repairs had continued through the night, and B’Elanna’s engineering crew were hard at work replacing the chrysotile baffles. When the command crew assembled on the bridge the mood was quietly cheerful, though tempered by the jarring emptiness of the first officer’s seat.

“Good morning, everyone,” said Janeway as she took her own place. “Tuvok—status report.”

“Our situation has greatly improved, Captain. Many repairs have been completed, including those to the environmental system, so we should not have any repetition of our former problems.”

“Good.”

“However,” he went on, “A few key systems, such as scanners and transporters, are operating only marginally and will require further attention to be brought back to full efficiency,”

“Do we have enough for navigation?”

“Yes, Captain,” said Paris, “Provided we don’t want to work our way through something tricky like an unstable asteroid belt.”

“No, I’m not looking for anything fancy. Just get her into orbit so we can find Chakotay and Evans.”

“That’ll be a pleasure, Captain.”

Janeway nodded her approval.

“Bridge to Engineering. Commence warp core reheat.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Almost unconsciously, everyone paused in their work.  In Engineering the crew worked with well practised efficiency,  and the huge central core began to glow and throb.  The sound should have been inaudible elsewhere, but it seemed to come up through the deck plates, or along the conduits: Voyager’s heart was beating again.  On the Bridge Janeway drew a deep relieved breath  as the power readings climbed steadily and smoothly.

“Right, Mr. Paris. Take us up..”

The hum of the engines rose as Paris poured power into the thrusters. The green landscape outside tilted and receded, blurring as they picked up speed. A few moments later he announced,

“Standard orbit, Captain.”

“Begin search pattern beta. Harry, keep trying to raise the shuttle.” She stood up. “I’ll be in my ready room.”

Alone in her ready room. Janeway stared at the planet slipping beneath her and  hoped for a miracle. Or at least hoped that whatever deities might be out there watching would look kindly on a hard working ship’s captain and her crew.

 

 

When Chakotay awoke again it was full daylight, and he was alone.  Sian must have been awake for some time—she had left water and some food for him. As he started on his breakfast the shuttle door creaked open and she slipped through the gap.

“Oh, you’re awake, sir. Good. I thought I’d have a better look at our situation, while the weather’s clear.” She was being determinedly professional and matter-of-fact, and Chakotay replied in the same tone.

“Good idea. So what’s the verdict?”

“Well, I’d say we’ve definitely landed in an arctic zone. There’s no trees or much other vegetation, and I can’t see any signs of animal life, not that I’m much of an expert. Of course, I can’t get up on that bluff above us, but I don’t see why that should be any different. It looks like the country’s more broken up that way—it’s pretty much flat and wide open on this side. No signs of shelter.”

Chakotay considered this catalog for a minute.

“So if we were stranded, we’d have plenty of water but no obvious food source once these rations are gone. We’d need to trek out—though there’s  no telling which is the best direction. And I’ll be in no shape to do that for a while.”

“Yes, sir, that’s about it,” she replied, with commendable steadiness.

“So obviously we must cease to be stranded” said Chakotay briskly. “That means getting communications up and running.” He studied the console which jutted at right angles from the wall above where they sat. “It’ll take two of us, and I won’t be able to do much climbing. I’ll need a seat.” The two of them considered the forward pilots’ seats, sprouting incongruously sideways.

“What about some of the cutting equipment we brought?” Sian suggested. “If I could get through the bolts we should be able to set it up below the console so you could at least reach the controls.”

“Good idea. Set the cutter on the narrowest beam and just try to take the tops off the bolts. I’ll steady it from here.”

Chakotay manoeuvred himself to sit below the chair and hold it steady, while Sian leaned against the wall and carefully sliced away the bolts that held the chair. Chakotay grunted as his arms took the weight, but between them they managed to set the seat up  within reach of the console. He was surprised at the ease with which the slender Evans managed to lift and support him.

“Oh, I may have a neurotic fear of weather,” she said with a grim smile, “But I’m in pretty good shape physically. Where should we start?”

Chakotay thought for a moment.

“All we need is communications. It doesn’t even have to be visual. If we can trace the power flows back until we find the breakages, I’m betting we can get at least one repaired and bypass it to the comm. system.”

“Right.” She knelt down and began to prize the cover off the control console.

The next few hours had an odd, feverish quality. It was surprisingly confusing working at ninety degrees to the familiar instruments. Chakotay’s seat proved to be somewhat unstable, and tended to fall over if he made any sudden movements. It was annoying at first, but eventually had the effect of reducing them both to helpless giggles. Evans burrowed inside the consoles, working her way through unfamiliar circuits and relays with only Chakotay’s instructions to guide here. At one point she snagged her hair on a projecting component. Her startled yelp caused Chakotay to fall over again, and then he had to crawl painfully across to free her. It was a long, frustrating process, but eventually they managed to patch up a power source to the comm. relays. Chakotay took a deep breath, and with his eyes fixed on hers pressed the appropriate controls.

“Chakotay to Voyager.”

“This is Voyager,” came Harry Kim’s voice immediately. “Are we glad to hear from you, Commander! Captain, we’ve got them!” Chakotay and Sian exchanged triumphant glances.

“So I hear,” said Janeway dryly, but even at the other end of the link her relief was almost palpable. “Chakotay, what’s your status?”

Chakotay’s chair fell over again. Evans instinctively turned to help him  up, but swung back as Janeway repeated her question  more urgently.

“ We’re OK, Captain,” Evans began. Relief and laughter made her voice waver wildly, and she stopped to clear her throat and steady herself. “The shuttle crashed in a storm. Everything was knocked out. We’ve only just managed to jury rig power to communications, and that won’t last long. Commander Chakotay was injured. We need to get him to sickbay. Can you beam us up?”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” said Janeway regretfully. “Transporters aren’t back on line yet. I’ll have to send a shuttle.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Tom Paris was already on his feet and heading for the turbo lift. She stopped him with an uplifted hand.

“Our scanners aren’t up to full power either, Evans. Do you have any idea of your co-ordinates?”

“None, Captain. We seem to be in an arctic zone, I presume near one of the poles, but we don’t know any more than that. Can you lock onto the broadcast signal?”

Harry’s fingers flew over his board. He looked up with a wide smile.

“I think we’ve got you,” said Janeway. “Just hang on, Lieutenant. It won’t be long now.” She waved Paris on his way.

“Thank you, Captain. Shuttle out.”

Sian sank down beside Chakotay , pressed her hands to her face and drew a deep, shuddering breath. She let it out slowly, feeling the tension drain away, then rubbed her face and leaned back against the bulkhead, suddenly limp. Chakotay clapped her gently on the shoulder.

“Feeling beat?”

“Like I’ve been through a wringer!” she responded feelingly.

“I know what you mean.”

They had grown quite easy together, in their shared sense of accomplishment and relief, and sat dropping occasional idle remarks into the quiet as they came to  mind. It was wonderful just to luxuriate in the feeling of relaxation. As the time drew near when they began to expect the arrival of Paris in his shuttle, however, Sian seemed to grow tense again. The easy flow of conversation dried to a spasmodic trickle, with long silences in which she seemed to avoid Chakotay’s gaze.  He was uncertain whether to press her, but finally said,

“Sian, is there something wrong?”

“Not exactly, sir,” she said reluctantly.

“How, not exactly?” he persisted. “You seem worried about something. What is it?”

“Well, I just wanted to say…to assure you…look, I know last night didn’t mean…that it was just because…” She straightened up, pulled herself together, and for the first time looked into his face, into his eyes: those kind, temperate eyes that seemed to see her so clearly yet never judged. Suddenly the last vestiges of embarrassment left her.

“I know that you were just being kind—that it didn’t mean anything really. And I just want you to know that I won’t…do anything embarrassing once we get back, or…”

Startled and touched, Chakotay reached out and took one of her hands in his.

“Of course it meant something, Sian. I needed you too.”

That startled her.

“You did?”

“Of course I did. Think about it. If you’re stranded in an arctic wilderness with a broken leg and a head wound, in a disabled ship with no way of contacting the outside, it can be a little…depressing, to say the least. Having someone else to hold on to can make the difference between hope and despair. I don’t know how I would have survived without you.”

“I never thought of it like that,” she said slowly. “It’s a nice way to put it. But even so…Look, I  must admit I’ve sometimes imagined spending the night in your arms,”—she smiled properly as his face flamed red—“Though these aren’t exactly the circumstances I’d have chosen. And believe me, I will never forget it, or the way you pulled me back from the edge. But I know that it ends here.”  She was in earnest now, all embarrassment gone. “You’re the first officer, the Captain’s right hand. You aren’t likely to get involved with a junior—even if you wanted to, which I’m sure you don’t. Besides,” she studied him for a moment, frowning a little. “In some way that doesn’t even have anything to do with sex, you’re hers, aren’t you? Janeway’s? Her shield—her squire.”

Chakotay nodded.

“That’s right. Captain Janeway made me. She completed me. I owe her more than I could ever repay, and  she means more to me than almost anyone. But that doesn’t mean there’s no room in my life for others. I think I know what you’re trying to say, and you’re right. I wasn’t making some kind of romantic advance. But you and I have shared something very important, and that makes a bond that can’t be broken. In any case,” he went on in a lighter voice,” If you think you’re going to disappear back down to Environmental Control, you’re sadly mistaken. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me in the future.”

“Sir?”

“You’ve got to get over this planetophobia, or whatever you want to call it, and my prescription is participation in  a lot more away missions. You’ve managed to dodge them so far, but nemesis is finally catching up with you!”

She returned his smile, and even managed a chuckle.

“Well, after this particular excursion, I imagine anything else will seem pretty tame.”

“Very true.” He grinned, then tilted his head. “Listen. Do you hear…?”

The whine of a shuttle rose outside, then faded to the crunch of snow as it set down. “That’ll be Tom. Come on, help me up and let’s get out of here.”

She lent an arm one last time to help him as he stood up, then slipped it around his waist to steady his limping steps. He laid an arm across her shoulders, but before they began to move he pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead.

“Well done, Lieutenant,” he said quietly.

She replied only, “Thank you, sir,” but he saw her lips tremble and tears brighten her eyes. Then Tom Paris, puffing and grunting, levered the shuttle hatch fully open and poked his head in.

“OK, you two?” he inquired breezily. “Enjoyed your shore leave?” His lively blue eyes ran over them in mingled amusement and concern. Their uniforms were dishevelled, torn and blood stained. Chakotay’s face was swollen under the makeshift bandage and his jaws were dark with stubble. Evans sported a number of cuts and bruises, and her dark hair, ineffectually tied back with what looked like a strip torn from her uniform, hung around her face in limp rattails. Nevertheless, she retained the spirit to say tartly,

“Well, I’ve had a wonderful time, but I think the Commander here found it a bit much. Come on, let’s get him back to the ship so the Doctor can patch him up.” Her face was steady again, and she tightened her arm around Chakotay’s waist in a quick, reassuring squeeze.

 

 

A few days later Voyager had resumed her long journey, all damage repaired, all wounds healed. Once again the senior staff were meeting in the Briefing Room.

“We’ve refitted the heating baffles,” B’Elanna reported, “And laid in a supply of spares.”

“Good,” said the Captain. “That’s our latest crisis averted. Any other reports? Doctor?”

“Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Evans and Mr. Paris have fully recovered from the injuries they sustained during the emergency,” said the hologram briskly. “So have I, now that you’ve stopped my circuits melting down.”  The others grinned.

“We’ve taken aboard a good stock of fresh food from the planet, between storms,” Neelix added cheerfully.

“Good,” said Janeway again. “It sounds as if Voyager is back to her usual smooth running self.”

“But if we want to keep it that way, I think we need to look at some modifications,” said Chakotay. The Captain nodded.

“These heating baffles are obviously a weak point in the ship’s systems. Any suggestions?”

“The Borg have assimilated many races with varying technology,” Seven of Nine remarked. “It may be that one of those techniques could be adapted for Voyager.”

Chakotay nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.  I think you, B’Elanna and Sian here should work on developing an alternative system—preferably something we can replicate, or at least replace without mining it!”

Seven nodded decisively, but Sian looked less convinced.

“Sir, that’s a pretty tall order. The Starfleet designers decided to use that material for a reason.”

“I know they did. But one of their assumptions was that a ship would be available for refit at regular intervals. So we need to discard that idea and start again. Between you I’m sure you’ll find something.”

He smiled inwardly as he considered the two women. They made an almost ludicrous contrast. Everything about Seven of Nine spoke of power and control, from her incisive voice to the carriage of her magnificent figure and her perfectly coifed hair. Beside her Sian looked waiflike, almost negligible. But there was steel in that slight frame, he knew now, and  a powerful mind behind that childlike face. He had no doubt that she could hold her own even with the formidable ex-Borg, and was sure that between them they would solve the problem. Janeway obviously shared his optimism because she gave him a smiling nod of satisfaction before standing up and saying briskly,

“Well, that’s all for now. Let’s get back to work. Dismissed!”

Obediently the officers started to file out.  Chakotay stopped Sian with a quick gesture, and motioned her back to a seat. She sat, eyeing him a little apprehensively.

“Sian, I’ve been thinking about what you said on the away mission.”

She flushed slightly at the memory of some of the things she had said, but answered quietly, “What was that?”

“You said that our attachment to a planet was all in our heads: a product of upbringing, or intellect—not something fundamental to our psyche. But I’ve decided you were wrong. It’s not in our heads—it’s in our blood, in our bones—in our hearts…”

“What do you mean?” she cried. “That planet very nearly killed us. I feel no bond to that place, or any other.”

“Maybe not. But on a planet, you have a chance: to use the environment, or adapt to it, or defend against it. Space will just kill you.” She looked unconvinced. “Don’t you see? Voyager’s very survival depended on something that was only available from a natural, terrestrial environment. We have become so sure of our technology that we tend to only look for the solution there. If the Captain hadn’t thought of landing the ship and using the planet’s environment, storms and all, the whole crew would have died.

“Human beings have had a few generations in space, but millennia on Earth. We can survive on this ship or a space station as long as our artificial systems hold out, but only on the surface can we survive alone and unprotected. Maybe one day we will evolve to exist out here without help, but then we will no longer be human. A new species: Homo Universalis.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think it will be an important step for you to recognise your ties to the earth, to the natural environments we can never control. I think we all need to remember them, in fact.”

Sian studied his face in silence for a moment, then  stood up and moved over to the viewport. She reached out a hand to touch the force field that shielded it. It responded with its faint musical note, gently repelling her fingers. A few centimeters of compressed and compelled energy, constantly monitored and maintained, to keep at bay the ruthless emptiness of space. Suddenly she remembered the crunch of snow under her boots, and the silence of the sweeping arctic plain on which they crashed.  The air had been tingling cold and clean, the light blindingly pure on the undulating whiteness. Seen in retrospect, without fear distorting her perceptions, it was an exciting memory, much more vivid to the senses than the moderate light levels and  comfortable, hygienic air of the ship.  Behind her Chakotay said quietly,

“However big the tree, however far the branches spread,  the sap still comes from the roots.”

She turned back to face him and smiled.

“OK, you win. This little twig will learn to appreciate its roots.”

He returned her grin. “Great. Shall we go see what delicacy Neelix has provided for lunch today?”

“As long as emergency rations are not involved, I’m game!”

They turned to the turbolift in amicable conversation, ready to begin the next stage of the long journey home.

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Star Trek: Athena—The Secret Fleet

By chrisrobato | Published July 11, 2004

Star Trek: Athena—The Secret Fleet

 

 

By Chris Robato

 

(crobato@kuentos.guam.net)

 

 

 

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Preview*

Captain Garret (no relation to Ent-C captain) is about to experience the greatest joy a starfleet captain would earn—to command his first ship.

Expecting at least a frigate or destroyer, the most common vessels used for first time captains, what Garret got was something he didn’t bargain for—a mysterious new ship, a sentient ship with an attitude and a gorgeous hologram.

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Notes:

 

The fanfic combines canonical information from Voyager’s Message in a Bottle, the TOS episode “Balance of Terror”, and the ST* VI movie, then combines them with many elements in the ST*Armada game, in particular, the use of the Romulan ships and technologies in this fanfic. There are also references to the Starfleet Command game with the Gorn description, and the upcoming Dominion Wars game with the Starfleet Class descriptions (Class 5, Class 4, etc,.) Certain Romulan references are taken from Diane Duane’s Rihannsu novels.

 

 

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Stardate: 2380

 

The USS Athena

 

Part 1

 

 

It will be sad to leave this old post now, Randy thought. For a few years now, Lt. Commander Randall Garret had been first officer to the USS Kiev, a Norwary class destroyer.  Even though it was an advanced starship, it was a modest size ship by the standards of its time, originally designed to deal with the Borg with its mobility and high firepower to weight ratio, but ultimately, it saw its true value against the Dominion war.  In that way, the Norway class ships joined its contemporaries in their unusual form and the versatility of function—the Defiants, the Sabres, the Steamrunners and the Akiras.  Despite highly publicized decisive battles which large ships like the Galaxies and Sovereigns fought, the bulk of the fighting and dying were carried by the smaller ships like the Kiev.  While Starfleet conserved its largest and best ships for the major decisive battles, the small ships had to do a lot of convoy duty, reconnaissance, escort, defense, assault and a million things other things.  Starfleet called upon the small ships because they were flexible—and expendable, while it dared not risk its biggest and most expensive starships.

 

Despite some achievements, the Norway class destroyers, however, never seemed to get the attention the Defiant, Akira and Steamrunner classes enjoyed. Despite their advanced design, the Norways were slated for a career of obscurity.

 

Obscurity. Yup, that’s quite a fate alright. But Commander Garret was not an overtly ambitious man. At least, his ambitions was not in a hurry. He was content to take things one at a time.  The next logical step in his young career would be the command of a med class or class two starship, often referred to many quarters as a destroyer, even though Star Fleet would never formally admit the use of such militaristic designations for politically correct reasons.

 

Instead, for internal accounting reasons, Starfleet had developed a loose classification of “classes”.  A Sovereign or Galaxy class would be Class Five; an Ambassaor or Niagara class  would be Class Four; a Sabre, Nova, Defiant would be Class One; an Akira would be Class three.  A Norway?  It would be a Class Two ship, sharing the same place as a Steamrunner or Intrepid.    Among the people of Starfleet, these classes are termed informally; Class One for Escort, Class Two for Destroyer or Frigate, Class Three for Cruiser, Class Four for Heavy Cruiser, and Class Five for Battleship.

 

Class One captains are dime a dozen, quickly followed by Class Two starship captains.  Here are where young, ambitious, but generally well experienced commanders and captains tend to fall into.  These are their proving ground.  Once proven, they go to the next stage of commanding a Class three or four starship.  A very elite club of legends like Captain Picard are reserved for the Class Five ships.

 

Like most of everyone who thinks of himself as a young dashing commander or captain, Garret would be Class Two material.  Logically he thought the Kiev would eventually be his to captain when Captain Wu would move on and get promoted to a larger ship. Wu, by virtue of his combat record, should be moving up to a Class Three position at least.  Wu earned that right in battles against the Dominion, and the ladder of succession of getting to command the Kiev should rightly fall to Garret.  It was only fair.  Which is why the Star Fleet communique that Garret would be promoted to command a new ship other than the Kiev was a big surprise.

 

Garret felt bad for Wu, who didn’t seem to mind being bypassed for the time being.  But regardless of the circumstances, Garret was happy.    He was finally getting his promotion. He’s going to become captain of his first command even if the Kiev wasn’t going to be it.  But Admiral Hurst wasn’t going to tell him what his new command was, which was quite unusual given the standard protocol for such promotions. Something was amiss here. Maybe there was a far shot that they would promote him to captain a ship larger than a Class Two ship.   He had his stars earned against the Dominion, but he didn’t think that was enough to put him in a large ship.

 

The Taciticus shipyard was orbiting a class M planet in the 41 Kappa star system. Far from glamous shipyards like Utopia Planitia and Beta Antares, Taciticus was an obscure shipyard better known—actually better kept unknown—for more experimental projects. Around the shipyard was a small fleet, and Garret could not guess if they were there for refit or just protecting the shipyard. From the scanners aboard the Kiev, they could see a number of small ships, a Defiant class escort, a Sabre class escort, an Oberth and a Nova class science ship. Everything seemed either Class One or Class Two.  The largest ship was a Steamrunner in orbit, the USS Manila. Garret’s heartbeat accelerated. Maybe that ship will be his new command, and it was logical. A Class Two ship, a Steamrunner was slightly larger than a Norway, and had a similar complement.  A Steamrunner wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Like the Norways, these ships were extremely well armored and well armed for their size. If the USS Manila had the latest refit that included ablative armor and pulse phasers, the baby would rock. Garret began to look forward to the new career move. He was going to get his destroyer, the first step in a ladder that may lead to something bigger.

 

Hidden in the ribs and scaffolding of the shipyard was another ship. Garret could not see what it was that was docked on the shipyard but it didn’t even matter. The USS Manila should be it.

 

“Well, the soon-to-be-ex Commander Garret, looks like it’s going to end here,” Captain Wu said as the Kiev settled into a parking orbit near the shipyard.

 

“Don’t make it sound like an execution, David,” Garret said. Both of them have known each other well enough as friends to speak openly in a first name basis.

 

“Randy, for me to lose my best ever first officer and a friend off from this ship, that is an execution, at least for me and this ship,” Captain Wu said.

 

“David, you will do just fine picking a new officer.  I suggest you get Shelley.”  Shelley was a dirty blonde girl who had proven herself to be an excellent tactical officer.

 

“But you’re so good I doubt anyone could fill your shoes easily, Randy.”

 

“Ah, David, you’ll see Shelley is as good.  You’re going to make me break up and cry if you keep pushing it, David. I am already on the brink here. What fine memories this ship has. I will miss her, and I will miss everyone here. What a fine ship. What a fine crew. It’s been a great honor to serve with you, Captain…” Garret turned to Shelley and the crew. “You too Shelly…and the rest of this valiant crew…” Garret saluted, and they saluted him back.

 

David extended his hand for a shake, and Garret took it. They shook firmly and then hugged. David then led him to the transporter room.

 

David’s final words as Garret was transported to the Taciticus, was “Congratulations once more. You will make a fine captain. Captain Garret, godspeed…” Garret heard this words as he dematerialized.   There was a nice ring to it…”Captain Garret”.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Captain Randall Garret materialized in an open bridge deck aboard the Taciticus shipyard. There were vast windows that showed a magnficent view of the ships in dock. Garret looked at his watch. He was a bit early for his appointment with Admiral Hurst. He had some time to waste, and maybe he could tour around the shipyard.

 

There was that ship again, the mysterious vessel they first saw docked and hidden in the scaffold ribs of the shipyard. This time it was no stranger, being right in front of him in full view. The ship had a main hull shaped like a sharp triangled and its sleek lines ended with an incredible four warp engine nacelles. A ship this sleek must undoubtedly be an experimental prototype. Garret was trying hard to recall where he had seen this design before. He clicked his fingers as the light bulb popped over his head. Yes, this is a Prometheus class ship! The wow factor overcame him, and for a short moment, Garret felt his adulthood leaving him and turned him back into a small boy drooling over the latest starship toys.

 

He shook his head to regain back his sanity. He checked the registry number. NCX95700. He ran that on his personal digital assistant. The numbers were different. This was not the USS Prometheus. This was something else, a new ship belonging to the Prometheus class. This was quite a personal discovery for him. While the Prometheus was a ship not commonly spoken about for security reasons, it was believed there was only one of its class. This new ship just debunked that theory.

 

Oh well. Not his concern. Not his business. Garret grabbed his bags, and looked at the signs on the corridors for the nearest bar. He found one, a fancy one called Star’s Tears.

 

He entered it and stood right there, looking for a table he could settle himself in. As he scanned the tables, he noticed this attractive short haired blonde, dissecting him with her steely blue eyes. She had this impish teasing smile that taunts and challenges the male ego. Her tight outfit barely concealed a nubile figure, and she had this short skirt from which these long sleek legs ran out under the table. He guessed that she was probably in her late teens or early twenties.

 

Garret smiled, his charm meter running to the redline, and walked to the table where the blonde sat. “May I?” he asked.

 

The girl replied, “Go ahead.” Garret pulled the chair and sat down.

 

Garret ordered a drink for the girl and for himself. “By the way, forgive my manners, I am Lieutenant Commander—I mean Captain Randall Garrrett.”

 

The girl smiled shyly. “A Captain?  A new Captain.  I could sense that in your voice Just called me A for now.”

 

“You’re quite intuitive, but do you have a name more than just ‘A’?” Garret asked.

 

“Just A,” she affirmed.

 

“That’s alright with me,” Garret said. Obviously the girl wanted to play mystery games. Maybe it turned her on.

 

“So Captain Garret, what exactly are you being a captain of?” She asked.

 

“That’s what I came here for. I have no idea for the moment. I am here to be assigned to my new command. I was hoping that it would be that USS Manila parked outside of the shipyard.”

 

“Well then, I must say congratulations to your new command,” the girl said. She raised her glass in a toast, then sipped.

 

“Thank you,” he said.

 

He raised his glass, and just then noticed how the people in the other tables were staring at him like he was mad. He stared at them back, indicating with his facial expressions that he was annoyed being stared at. The other people gave him one last look and returned to their business.  “I kind of noticed that the people are staring at us. I wonder why. It’s none of their business.” He said.

 

“Don’t mind them. Maybe they’re just jealous,” the girl said as she smirked and crossed her legs.

 

“Jealous of having a drink with a beautiful girl? I can see why,” Garret said as he took a sip.

She bent forward as if to ask him something straight to his face. “So, why are you qualified to be captain?”

 

“Hmmph. Let’s just say, lot of hard work aboard a starship as First Officer. Promoted for valor during the Dominion Wars. Top honors in the Academy. You know the usual stuff…” Garret replied. He thought that was a question more suited for a job interview, not in an occasion of trying to pick up a girl here. Nonetheless, it was an opportunity to brag. So he talked about himself, his various experiences in the Dominion Wars, his service career aboard the USS Kiev. All the while, the girl listened attentively, her eyes scanning him, and her lips wearing that impish teasing smile.

 

He eventually ran out of the hot steam to brag. “For someone who listens very well, you sure don’t seem to talk a lot. What about you? Tell me about yourself.” He asked her. She appeared to be quite an interesting woman in her graceful deliberate movements.

 

“You will find out soon enough,” she answered.

 

“Maybe we can meet together some time later. Perhaps even a night cap?” He said. That was a clever line, to propose to her right there, like going for a quick kill. She was after all, asking to be picked up, in the way she dressed and acted.

 

“Yes, maybe we will meet…just not the way you expect. Didn’t you say a while ago you have an appointment with a certain admiral?” She said.

 

“Yes that’s right, and I better go. Is there some way I can get in touch with you?” He asked.

 

“Don’t worry about that, I will get in touch with you.” She replied with a hungry decisiveness.

 

Garret smiled. He was reluctant to have a catch like this go. But he really didn’t have the time to chat longer, and besides she said she will find him. If not, she won’t get far in this shipyard base.

 

He took his bag and left, but not before he flashed her his smile. She smiled back and to, as she made a parting gesture with her fingers. “Too-da-loo,” she said.

 

When Garret got to the Admiral’s office, he notifed the secretary to inform the Admiral that he had arrived. Instead of being led to the office, a distinguished looking man with a large stomach for his size came out to greet him. “Captain Garret?” He stretched out his hand for a shake. “I’m Admiral Hurst.”

 

He saluted and then shook the Admiral’s hand. “I am honored to see you,” Garret said.

“Well, Captain, first of all, I wish to congratulate you on your promotion. Second, it would be an honor for you to present you your first command. Right this way, please…” Hurst showed him the door.

What’s this suspense, Garret thought. The Admiral could have just said any word right now. “Your new command will be the USS Manila…” and so forth, as he imagined it. His nerves tightened. Or maybe they will give him a little Class One type ship, like a Nova class science vessel, or a Saber class frigate. Perish the thought. If they wanted him to captain a small ship, they could have already said it now, and they won’t need an admiral to show him the reins.

 

As they walked, Hurst struck up a conversation. “There are certain things that we need to tell you about this ship…I think it’s a fine ship and you will make a fine captain to her…” Get on with it, Garret thought.

 

They came to the window that showed the dock, the same window that Garret passed by a while ago. In front of the window was the same mysterious ship that was docked.

 

“She’s truly a fine ship…” the Admiral repeated as he stared into the ship.

 

“Are you…are you telling me…that..that.. this…is…” Garret asked.

 

“Yesss…she’s your new command now. Prometheus class cruiser, or I should say, Prometheus-A refit cruiser. She had quite a number of enhancements over the original Prometheus class ship. Her name is the USS Athena, to summarize everything she is the most advanced ship in Starfleet today, not to mention pound to pound the most powerful. She has the basic amenities, ablative armor, regenerative multi phasing shields, multiple modulating wide arc phaser array strips for its primary weapons, pulse phasers for secondary, capable of firing photon, quantum, polaron and tricobalt torpedoes if necessary the last under Starfleet authorization of course. Warp 9.99 capability, with warp 9.98 sustained for 12 hours, not the least multiple vector attack mode where the ship will split into three parts. She has the most advanced bioneural computer in all of the Federation; compared to hers the bioneural net on the Intrepid class is a Neanderthal.”

Hurst laughed on the last statement and that sort of disturbed Garret.

 

“This is incredible, Admiral. I was expecting something more modest. I honestly thought I would be assigned another destroyer, like a Steamrunner.”

 

“Hahaha,” Hurst gave Garret some solid pats on the back. “For a person with an ambitious profile, you underestimate yourself greatly. You deserve a good ship. We examined your personality profile and we figured you’re the right man for the job. ”

Garret thought there might be some catch here. It’s quite ridiculous for a neophyte captain to be just handed the most advanced starship in the fleet. Hmmm…

 

“Isn’t there, some people that are more experienced, and perhaps, more deserving to be handed this so called  most advanced starship in the entire Federation?”

 

“Good question,” Hurst replied. His tone turned more decisive. “But I’m not obligated to give you an answer. Don’t you have confidence on our selection process? We picked you after studying the profiles of so many candidates. If we picked you, we picked you for a good reason. It may not be necessary to tell you the reason, but have good faith on your superiors that indeed it is a good reason.”

 

It sounded confusing to Garret, but he felt better to leave it at that.  “Sorry Admiral, I didn’t mean to sound offensive. I surely trust your judgement and indeed I am very honored to be commanding such a fine ship. I swear I will live up to your highest expectations. Thank you Sir!”

 

“That’s my boy!” Hurst patted Garret hard on the back. “Now I must introduce you the bridge and some of the features of the ship. We are still assembling the rest of the crew but you will meet them later.” Hurst clicked on his communicator. “Transporter room, beam two up to the bridge of the Athena.”

 

They materialized on the bridge. “The bridge looks a bit spartan. It is a primarily a war vessel,” Hurst apologized.

 

Garret looked around and smiled. He was happy. “I don’t mind. I like it simple and plain anyway. I am not expecting to run a cruise ship here. Just a ship who knows its purpose. May I?” Garret fiddled with the captain’s chair.

 

“Go ahead, she’s all yours,” Hurst replied.

 

Garret grinned as he sat down on the captain’s chair. Finally, he thought. It’s all mine. There was something kingly sitting on the captain’s chair, something all people should experience. Responsibility, power, and choice all focused on a single seat. Being a captain of a starship is a special club, a dream for everyone, a chance to stand next to the gods.

 

“I know it’s a great experience,” Hurst said, staring at the bridge screen. ” I envy you for being young. I remembered the moment as a young man when I was handed my first command, and I tell you it felt like I was top of the universe. I swear I would do anything to relive that moment.”

 

Garret saw the door of the Captain’s room. The Captain’s room—his office. That would be another momentous occasion. He stood up and walked to his new room.

 

“YOU!!” Garret shouted…

 

* * *

 

Remember the time when the baby bear found Goldilocks sleeping in his bed. Well, that’s the feeling Garret had now, as he discovered Goldilocks was sitting in his big chair in the Captain’s room.

 

But this Goldilocks had long sleek legs flowing down her miniskirt, her feet right up his new table. She smiled at him, her head of short blonde hair wore that teasing impish smile, her steely blue eyes making fun at him.

 

“Didn’t I tell you I will get in touch with you, hmm?”

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Garret demanded of the girl. “This isn’t really funny.”

 

“Unfortunately, it is really funny.” The girl burst in laughter. “I wonder, they truly had to choose a Type A Alpha male for the job.”

 

“When I met you in the bar, I thought you’re a nice girl. I even had thoughts that I want to go to bed with you. I admit that. But you are an unauthorized person in a highly security sensitive area, right in the captain’s chair of an experimental ship. In short, you crossed the line, girl. I see you got two choices before I call the security,” Garret said.

 

“One, you better explain yourself what you’re doing here in a restricted area. And two, how the hell you got here?”

 

All she did was tweedle her fingers and hummed a note, as if challenging him.

 

Garret activated his communicator. “Security, we need your assistance here.”

 

“That won’t be necessary,” Admiral Hurst interrupted. “I see that you two have met.”

 

“Yes, we have met, and I thought I liked her,” Garret declared, “but I don’t like her now.”

The girl’s eyes twinkled, her grin teasing, challenging him, her feet still high up on the captain’s table.

 

“I suggest,” Garret demanded, “that you show some respect on the captain of this ship by hastily removing your feet from his table.”

 

“Wow,” she laughed as she twirled the captain’s chair to turn to Hurst. “Admiral, didn’t you tell him who I am? Apparently he doesn’t.”

 

Hurst said. “I am sorry. You should have known about her before, but I thought if you do, you may refuse this commission.”

 

“Refuse this commission? What do you mean? What has she got to do with it?” Garret demanded to know. So Hurst did held something back from him, something that may have to do with the girl. There was something about the new commission that didn’t seem right and Garret now had a funny feeling that he was being played as a guinea pig.

 

“Well, Captain Garret, meet Athena,” Hurst said, his hand pointing to the girl on the seat.

 

“Athena? That’s the name of this ship.” Garret said. “I don’t understand. What is going on?”

 

“Do you remember what an EMH is right?” Hurst asked.

 

“Of course, a medical hologram,” Garret affirmed. “The Prometheus had a pretty advanced version, the EMH-2. Wait, are you telling me…”

 

“The USS Athena has a version that is even far more advanced. And it’s no longer just for medical purposes, but a hologram of all trades that can handle just about every aspect of the ship. The girl you are seeing now is Athena GH1, or General Hologram One.”

Athena waved at him.

 

“You are joking, Admiral,” Garret said.

 

“No I am not. Athena here represents everything about this ship. She is the ship, and I emphasize “is”. One can say this ship, with its advanced bioneural nets, has achieved sentience. In other words, the USS Athena is a living ship.” Hurst explained.

 

“You mean, a living ship with an attitude,” Garret corrected. “How did she project herself beyond the ship?”

 

“You met her outside the ship?” Hurst asked.

 

“In the shipyard’s bar,” Garret confessed, almost embarrassed to say why. “Practicing her charms, so to speak.”

 

“The ship has hologram emitters with a range of 100 kilometers from the ship,” Hurst said. He turned to Athena. “What the hell are you doing in bar?”

 

“I am giving my new captain a preliminary interview,” Athena replied. “What is wrong with that? I am about to lay my life on his hands and I really think I should know what he is all about, his character and his capabilities, not to mention his manly charms.”

 

“And you don’t trust Star Fleet to make that decision for you, eh Athena?” Hurst said. Raising his voice a bit, he continued. “Yes, Star Fleet. The organization that built you, the organization that commissioned you, the organization that made you possible…and you don’t trust us?”

 

“You are not perfect. Not one of you are,” Athena replied. “The machines that you make, they are all your tools. I am Athena. I am perhaps the most advanced and the most intelligent thing you ever made, yet the very fact that you do not include me in your decisioning process is a slight against my intelligence, my superior knowledge assisted by my access to all your databanks.”

 

“The point of everything is that you never asked me,” Athena berated. “You always picked the captain. Why can’t I pick the captain? Are you really smarter than I am on this?”

 

“I am an Admiral of the Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets. I damn well pick the captain for my ships!” Hurst bursted.

 

“And I am Athena, the most advanced starship with the most advanced computer in the entire quadrant. I darn think that I deserve some respect and consideration with your decisioning process.”

 

Hurst turned to Garret, nodding his head, fanning his hands in a circular motion. “Look here is a hologram trying to tell me how to run my business, how to run my command…” Hurst raised his hands up as if he’s giving up.

 

“But why pick me, why not some other captain? Someone more qualified in babysitting a living ship with a bad attitude,” Garret asked.

 

“Unfortunately Captain Garret, this ship has a way of chewing up captains,” Hurst finally revealed what Garret had been suspicious.

 

Garret started to feel slighted himself. “Oh I see now. I am thrown in as a last resort. I am captain of this ship only because no one would dare take the job.”

 

“Actually they took the job, but quit after the psychological harassment Athena puts them through,” Hurst said.

 

“You may notice why we’re looking for a new crew too. All incompetent fools and idiots,” Athena scolded. “I say you’re in pretty good company. ”

 

“Some of the best Starfleet ever had, Athena,” Hurst scowled. “The best men and women. We gave you the best crew, and you treated them like playthings!”

 

“Your opinion of the best, not mine,” Athena scowled back.

 

“Look, Captain Garret, we didn’t pick you because you’re the last guy in the universe,” Hurst explained. “I checked your personality profile. I picked you because you have a way of dealing with difficult people. You have a good recommendation from your captain, your record stands out. Your battle record and simulations show that you have an excellent grasp of tactical situations. But mainly because you can deal with people.”

 

“Yes, people,” Garret explained. He pointed his hand to Athena. “But that is not people. That is a sentient AI with an attitude problem. You need a programmer to fix her.”

 

“Don’t you think we tried?” Hurst said. “Everytime we did so, she somehow always returned to her original self. She’s a self programming AI and somehow her routines have become so different. We either have to take her as she is, or we have to purge her.”

“So Admiral, why didn’t you just pull the plug on her?” Garret asked. “Oh I remember, the Starfleet directive when it comes to encountering new lifeforms. We can’t kill it and we need to study it. It’s all become clear now.”

 

“Now you understand,” Hurst affirmed. “It’s also my responsibility. Which is I need you, Captain Garret. I am the one who spearheaded a secret project to develop a self autonomous starship, a drone that can take the battle to the enemy without any loss of our precious human life. A starship that can continue the fight even if the crew became incapacitated. After sinking so much money, resources and time, we finally came out with the USS Athena.”

 

What a fitting name, Garret thought. The Goddess of Wisdom, a name for a ship with unpredecented levels of artificial intelligence. Too bad, the same cannot be said of its creators. They just built the most powerful warship in the galaxy around a computer that had an attitude problem. They should have been more trusting of the human nature instead of depending everything on robots. Garret took one look at Athena. Yeah, but what a robot.

 

“Now it appears that the project backfired, for being too successful,” Hurst said. “We got a ship too smart for its own good.”

 

“So what do you expect me to do,” Garret asked.

 

“The obvious. Take command. Take control,” Hurst said. “Show this ship who’s boss.”

 

Athena flashed her teasing smile as she crossed her long sleek legs in the table. Somehow Garret knew it won’t be that simple.

 

 

 

USS Athena Pt 2

 

 

 

Garret had put on his bathrobe, and was about to enter the shower when something happened. Something like a sick genie loosed from her bottle.

 

She was there in the bathrobe too, but no way he’s going to let a hologram, even as good looking as this, come into the shower cubicle.

 

“So what are you afraid of now?” Athena remarked. “Am I not attractive to your taste? You seemed a while ago.”

 

“That was before I thought you were a real human, not a hologram,” Garret curtly replied. “Now if you don’t mind, shoot shoot.”

 

She just stood up, then moved around in the room. “What’s wrong with being a hologram? I’ve heard men and women have quite close relations with holograms before, you know, very close activities.” There was a twinkle in her eye and a smirk in her lips that made Garret nervous.

 

“Come off that routine, and get out. I would really appreciate if you can respect my privacy,” Garret insisted, the irritation starting to show in his tone of voice.

 

“I can see you even if my holographic form is here or not,” Athena said. “What’s the point of being shy? I am omnipotent in this ship. I can see anything, anywhere…”

 

Garret knew he’s not going to win this one. The girl intends to test him, not just in a contest of wills, but in a contest where she intends to whittle him down bit by bit, layer by layer. He has read something about this before, in the annals of Sun Tzu. If you ain’t going to win by direct confrontation, there are other means. A tree that stands straight will be torn from its roots by a gale, but a reed that bends with the wind will survive. He knows he has a careful game to play.

 

“Okay, if you insist, just don’t bother me. I need to take a bath,” Garret slammed the door of his cubicle.

 

“My my, you’re taking one of those stupid sonic showers. Tsk, tsk, let me help you,” she said.

 

Instead of water,. a sonic shower uses sound waves to cleanse the human body, a far more resource efficient means. To Garret’s great surprise when a shower head appeared above him and a warm stream of water gushed out. It almost made him jump out of the enclosure screaming.

 

“Don’t worry, the water is just another holographic illusion,” Athena said. “You’re still being cleaned by your sound waves. You know that a real water shower is a far more pleasurable thing to experience.”

 

“A luxury aboard a starship or a starbase,” Garret said, getting used to the cleansing, soothing stream of body temperature water. “But thank you anyway. I appreciate that. But next time, give me a warning.”

 

She was silent for a while. “You know, no one ever said thank you to me before.”

 

“Maybe if you stop acting like a bitch, maybe people can appreciate you more,” Garret said, his body silhouette moving in the frosted glass.

 

“People regard me as either something to be feared, or something that must be controlled without question,” she replied. “Something that is not really alive. How do you expect people to respect you?”

 

“That’s a question I’ve been trying to answer myself for my entire life,” Garret replied. He covered himself as he stepped out of the enclosure. Despite having felt the complete sensation of a shower, he was completely dry and clean.

 

“I like that, a human who does not have answers to everything,” Athena said. “It is the man in doubt, that makes the wiser man.”

 

“Where did you get that? Confucius?” Garret asked.

 

“No, Athena,” she replied.

 

Garret staggered when he saw that she was wearing a wedding gown. She poured wine into a glass for him. “They say that it is maritime tradition that a Captain is married to his ship. Let’s celebrate the occasion, shall we?”

 

His normal reaction would be is to act upset on the sight of this. No, he will play along. He knew he was getting to her, getting her to accept him, slowly step by step. Dealing with the hologram is fascinating, an exchange of wits, tactics and strategy.

 

He sat down on the chair and took a sip off the wine glass. “Excellent, a salute to your taste,” he toasted her.

 

“Chevalier Rothschild 2360. It was an excellent vintage year in the south of France, made from grapes harvested under the full moon,” she said. “Or would you prefer some more recent cabernet instead?”

 

“The ship’s replicators must be so precise that it could capture the subtle tastes and fires of vintage French wine,” Garret said. “The degree of resolution your computer bioneural circuits must have to achieve such subtleness…”

 

“Actually, I didn’t replicate the wine. I transported it from the Admiral’s personal collection in his office at the shipyard,” Athena said.

 

Garret smiled, then laughed. Knowing that the wine was indeed authentic made it taste better. He raised the glass to her, “Saludo!”

 

She raised the glass and sipped it. “You can actually taste the thing?” he asked.

 

“My biosensors, which is all over this ship, samples the wine and translates them into this sensation called “taste”,” she explained. She wanted to explain more, but Garret placed two fingers in front of her lips.

 

“I think we better keep our little infraction against the Admiral’s personal wine collection our little secret,” Garret said. “When we’re through, I think we better return back the bottle.” Not that it really mattered, since the bottle had been opened, but the Admiral would probably never open the bottle for years to come.

“When people get married, they say, ’till death do us part’. When a person becomes a captain of his ship, there is always this tradition of him going down with it, that’s true?” Athena asked.

 

Garret let down his glass. “Yes, that’s true. A ship is his life. Or hers, since we’ve also got a lot of female captains too. I know what you’re getting it, Athena. You don’t trust us flesh beings, just as we flesh beings don’t trust you. It’s a problem and to be honest with you, I have this same fear. From your perspective, you are going to trust your life on a captain you know not much about—at least personality wise. Think of it from my perspective. I am betting my career, my life, not to mention an entire crew, on an untested ship with an untested technology with a quirky sentient computer. I have as much to risk as you do. You did not ask for me and I did not ask for you. Excuse my language but we are in the same boat, both literally and figuratively.”

 

“Trust is a leap. You have to trust me and I have to trust you. We have to work together or we fall together.”

 

Athena let down her glass and clapped her hands. “Brilliant, Captain, I could not say it better myself, even if it sounded a bit corny. Actually, it was way pretty corny, something like a canned speech out of a Starfleet manual. I will give you something Captain, and that’s an A for effort.”

 

“I’m not going to bother you anymore, Captain. You have earned your privacy—in the meantime. Now that you’re officially Captain, I am going to expect that the Admiral has a long list of test trials you need to perform on this ship, so expect a busy day tomorrow.”

 

“By the way, Captain, do all the type A males like you have to carry a copy of Sun Tzu where ever you go? This is so predictable. I got the entire Art of War text carved into my memory banks. If you want a quote, you can ask me anytime. Good night Captain and sweet dreams.”

 

She blinked out of the room. Garret smirked from the corner of his mouth. How the hell she did know about his copy of Sun Tzu? Whatever it’s going to take to handle Athena, a textbook isn’t going to be it.

* * *

The IRW D’Pakthau ‘Dark Sword’ crept slowly among the asteroids in phased cloak mode, slipping right through the rocks themselves like a ghost. The ‘Dark Sword’ itself belonged to the mysterious and engimatic Shadow class of intruder science vessels. The winged Shadows are much smaller than a standard D’deridex Warbird, but still big enough to match a Federation Galaxy class vessel in size. Specially built only for the purpose of the Tal Shi’ar, so secretive are these ships than their official existance has been denied to the Senate, the Praetor and the Tal Prae’ex. Captains choosen for a Shadow are forced to undertake some of the highest tests for loyalty to the Tal’Shiar, and one such captain is Galae Riov Riana.

She had lost her father in a clandestine operation against the Federation, both her brothers to the war against the Dominion. Her mother was weak, and she died heartbroken. But Riana was determined never to be weak. When her lover was killed in the Dominion wars, she did not weep. She herself rose in the ranks to eventually command a Shrike class destroyer, the IRW S’hakvak ‘Glorious Sacrifice’, where she would undertake deep strike missions well behind Dominion territory, where she would repeatedly strike out against Jem’hadar convoys from stealth. The war established her operational pattern—a lone wolf stealthily and deviously operating deep within enemy territory. It was a pattern the Tal Shi’ar found useful. Even before the war was over, the Tal Shi’ar had already prearranged for her ‘disappearance’, listing her as a war casualty. True to its namesake, the Glorious Sacrifice itself was sacrificed and destroyed in a deliberate suicide mission against the Jem’Hadar. She alone escaped from a ship complement of over a hundred in cloaked lifepod, where a cloaked Talon scout picked her up. Posthumously she was given a heroine’s burial in space, a glorious war record, a notable mention in that glorious war in the annals of Romulan history. Her blood line is officially ended, and alone, she has nothing to lose anymore.

 

The Tal Shi’ar has created their own secret fleet within a fleet, a fleet not even the Emperor nor the Senate knew. They have their own secret bases and shipyards. For a regular Romulan ship even to chance upon the secret fleet would mean its destruction like if it was an enemy of the Empire, even if it carried the Empire’s banner.

Not far away, three Talons shadowed the Dark Sword but at a respectful distance. They stayed cloaked, but lacked the Dark Sword’s phasing cloak which allows the Dark Sword to phase through solid matter.

 

Their mission was clear. In the last few months or so, there had been sightings of a new Prometheus class destroyer in this area of space. The last time, this type of ship was encountered, it destroyed a Warbird over four times its size, without its crew, and after having been been attacked by both multiple Romulan Warbirds and Federation starships including an Akira class cruiser. The Romulan Empire had been a race without fear. Their Warbirds had taken on the best of the Galaxy, from the Federation Sovereign and Galaxy classes, to the largest Jem’hadar dreadnaughts and strike carriers, to the Borg cubes themselves. But nothing had been as humiliating as the incident with the Prometheus. If the Federation would mass produce this vessel, and demonstrated a hostile policy against the Empire, the Empire would surely fall. The ship would tip the balance of power for the Federation. Even if the Federation was a benevolent organization, there was still the danger that another power could seize the Prometheus, and use the Prometheus for its own will. There was still the Klingons, the B’reen, the militaristic factions that still exist among Cardassians, the unresolved border issues with the Gorn, factions and hidden fleets of mutated enhanced Jem’hadar who refused to follow the cease fire set by the Founders, and the occasional Borg incursion. Equally troubling was the development where Maquis forces have joined with the Orion pirates to create a new formidable pirate force. In secret meetings with weakling and easily persuaded Federation diplomats, Romulan diplomats complained about the new vessel and requested that it be dismantled with no new follow up ships based on this class, all to preserve the balance of power and for the good of the Alpha quadrant.

 

The Prometheus has since been allegedly mothballed after the incident, but there had been many theories about its true fate. The Tal Shi’ar never believed that the Federation would be that gullible to dismantle their very best weapon just like that. Like themselves, the Romulans have long known that the Federation with its human face, is capable of its own brand of deception. One of theory about the true face of the Prometheus was that it had been incorporated into a new Federation secret fleet, set up by a new clandestine section. Another was that the Prometheus was highly experimental, a prototype only to be succeeded by new improved vessels of its type. Now there has been unconfirmed sightings of a new and improved Prometheus class destroyer. Considering the damage done by the first ship, the Tal Shi’ar had considered the capture, and if necessary, the destruction of the second ship to be top priority. She was given the authority to choose everything she want, even to amass a large strike force. But numbers are not a substitute for cleverness and strategy. It is not the Romulan way to overwhelm the enemy with numbers.

 

The sightings have been traced to an obscure shipyard. Riana had brought along a wing of Talon class scouts, each equipped with tachyon grids, anticipating that the new ship would use phased cloaking. Now like patient hunters, they had to wait for their prey, the lone wolf watching.

 

* * *

 

This is terrible, Garret thought as he read the crew roster. Not only was the Prometheus left with a skeleton crew, there was nothing here to indicate he had top notch talent. Hurst had been pressuring him to put the Athena into trials. Mock combat trials that is, which is really why the Steamrunner, the Norway class, two Defiant class and a Sabre class escorts. A Nova class ship, the USS Gemini, bristling with sensors and everything else, was here to monitor the event.

 

He stared at the roster. The chief engineer was another bitch with a bad temper, a Bajoran named Ghia. They had knocked her from one post to another, and finally to settle on this post because like the Athena, no one would take her. Was he seeing a pattern here?

Next was his science officer, a Vulcan named T’pak. Now at least the Vulcans are normal, in their logical and predictable ways. For an obvious reason, Vulcans are preferred for use as science officers, so no surprise there.  Three out of four Vulcans entering Star Fleet always end up with this post.  This is one of them and young greenhorn too.

 

His first officer was a slimy green guy named Ka’nal from what else, Orion. The guy had a rapier wit and a curious odor from his body that can be detected from the captain’s chair. Hmm, at least this guy had an exemplary record from both the Dominion and Klingon civil wars, and even had some experience dealing with the Borg. Those advantages would probably outweigh the fact that he had an unpleasant smell. He can arrange the atmospheric systems aboard the Athena to compensate for that.

What’s this? This is neat. They got him a Gorn frog for a security and tactical officer, named—well it was unspeakable by human anatomical standards, so they had given him an English nickname called Drudge. For a species that seemed both oddly reptilian and amphibian, the Gorn had shown they can consistently kick butt. They demonstrated it quite well against the Jem’hadar who invaded their borders in the last Dominion War. The only thing was, they defeated the Jem’hadar on their own borders, but failed to join and undertake the deep ranged offensives into Dominion territory. Those offensives cost the Federation, Romulan and Klingon fleets greatly, but they had anticipated an Alpha quadrant victory with great losses for the Alpha quadrant powers. So they choose to keep their forces at home content to deal with Jem’hadar only near its borders, so one day, when the war was over, they would find themselves with a major advantage over other powers. Luckily they’re friendly with both Federation and Klingon, the two powers they see that serve as perpetual thorns to the hated Romulans that border them. With the Federation they have been friendly for at least over a century, and strong mutual bonds have developed.

 

Drudge it seems here, had fought as a boarding marine on a Gorn assault cruiser, but eventually wanted something better out of life and a taste of new things. He had viewed Gorn leadership as decadent, and being outspoken was one of the reasons for his dismissal. That means the guy has a potential attitude problem, but Gorn boarding marines do kick nasty butt. Garret was willing to take both the pros and the cons of this total package.

 

Now he wondered is how well they would deal with Athena. Both Drudge and Ghia had both lodged complaints about Athena interfering with their duties. T’pak finds Athena fascinating like a science project. And Ka’nal, well, he’s demonstrated that he could at least throw witty barbs at Athena, so he could hold his ground with her.

 

With no precedent on Star Fleet in dealing with a sentient ship with an attitude, Garret instead searched through the ancient fiction archives of old Earth, the ones called ‘science fiction’. There were fictional stories about sentient ships, but they didn’t help. Most of these ships have characters that were at least cooperative to their captain masters. But he did find stories that seemed to best portray his situation. One was about a NASA astronaut, NASA being the old space agency of the historical United States of America, who was beset by a mythical creature called a genie from an ancient arabian bottle. The other one was a horror story about a haunted house, dominated by a female poltergeist out to create trouble for its occupants. What he has now, he thought, is an odd mix of the two.

 

 

The Athena Pt III

 

 

The Talon class scout, the IRW D’sul, entered cloak mode as it approached the Federation shipyard. Not far away, the Shadow class IRW D’Pakthau remained in standby cloaked mode, along with three other Talons and two Shrike class destroyers. The larger ships risk detection if it approached the shipyward too close especially there is an unconfirmed report that a variant of the Nova class science ship equiipped with a tachyon grid is around the area. . So far they have tracked Two Defiant class escorts have been patroling the area, but Captain Sahau had been observing the intervals of their patrols, and he had believed he had seen an opportunity. And the T-grid equipped Nova isn’t around either.

 

“Minimum power to auxiliary systems. Increase power to cloak to maximum. One quarter impulse power, passive scans only,” he ordered. “Begin stealth approach”.

The Talon crept closer. For days they have been observing the traffic around the shipyard. Laying outside in a safe area, this would be the best way to detect the new ship. But the new Prometheus class ship, if there really was, had never appeared. They have seen a couple of Defiants led by a Sabre, the Nova class science vessel, a Steamrunner and Norway class destroyer. A moderately sized task force in all, something they can handle with half the ships in their fleet. They could destroy the secret Federation shipyard if they wanted to and dramatically reduce Federation power in this sector. But that is not their mission. The capture or destruction of the new Prometheus ship is. But where is the ship? If they cannot find the ship, the mission will be called of. In effect, the mission will be a failure if they could not find the ship. That leaves only the shipyard itself, and only the most dangerous course of action left available. They must get close for a detailed scan of the shipyard. The shipyard itself was big enough to hold the Federation’s largest, the Sovereign, or two destroyers.

 

The Talon continued its approach to the starbase.

 

“Captain, we got a ship reading on the shipyard,” said the sensors officer.

 

“Bring up the shipyard on screen and magnify,” the captain ordered. There was something hidden in the ribs of the shipyard, a ship that would happen to roughly fit the Prometheus’ size and mass. But the Prometheus is rather average for its size and mass, and readings like this could indicate a host of other ships, ranging from the Intrepid class explorer, to the Steamrunner and the Norway class destroyers sighted in the near vicinity, and even the common New Orleans class frigates.

 

“We need to get closer,” said the captain with a steely determined voice.

 

“On course,” said the helmsman.

 

It is more difficult with passive scans to be certain of the shape of the ship. This would mean they need to get extra close and discern the shape based from the extraneous radiation in the environment. The shipyard was a monster compared to the insect sized Talon.

 

“We’re getting a rough impression of the hull,” said the sensors officer. “Triangular. We’re also getting readings of four warp engine nacelles.”

“Show me the diagram,” he ordered. The screen brought up a rough outline of the ship. The sleek menacing shape of the ship. It can only be—

He had memorized the shape of the ship, the Prometheus, who singlehandedly destroyed the Empire’s best, a Warbird more than twice its size, and that is after it engaged a wing of Warbirds. And it accomplished the feat without a crew, relying only on a sentient hologram. There is never an incident in the history of the Empire that was as humiliating as this. Or since the days the Borg first arrived, has a ship that enjoyed such a total upper hand against the Empire’s best.  It created a grave crisis of confidence in the ranks of the Navy, at least to those who heard of the incident, before orders came to stem the flow of information, and incident became top secret ever since. The few who knew about the incident outside of the Tal Shi’ar suddenly disappeared for a variety of reasons. The impact from the demoralization could have been devastating if it had spread out. As it is, it had been greatly devastating to the Tal Shi’ar, whose commando teams had been responsible for the failed capture of the Prometheus.

 

Now here is the ship, and he is so close to it. The desire to avenge the humiliation was great. He was tempted to order firing phasers and photon torpedoes right into the silhouette inside the shipyard, but the base has shields and firepower stronger than a dreadnaught. He could transport the marines from his scout along with half of his crew in take over attempt of the ship. He could order the scout to warp right into the base itself in a suicide crash run. His officers stared at him, as if they were reading his thoughts. They were all enlisted and sworn officers of the Tal Shi’ar, all loyal to the end. They would never question a suicide run order, nor hesitate in executing it.

 

But he has his orders too. For the Tal Shi’ar, adherence to orders is holy. “We have our orders,” he said. “We have found what we are looking for and must report this to the Fleet Commander. We cannot risk communication and let the entire plot be discovered by the Federation. Plot a return course to the rest of the fleet. Maintain cloaked running.” The Talon banked as it began to turn around.

 

* * *

 

Admiral Hurst entered his office at a time equivalent to a morning. But the lights didn’t come on. Strange, he should have someone look at it soon.

 

He winked his eyes. He thought there was someone in his chair, and as he approached his table, the chair whirled around.

 

“Hello, Admiral,” said the man sitting in the chair, his face partly hidden by the darkness.

 

“Go ahead, take a seat.”

 

He didn’t know who the man was in particular, but it was not important. Hurst knew where the man came from, and that was the important bit. They were known as Section 31, but after the Dominion War, they had united with two or three other secret sectional organizations, and simply started to call themselves as plainly, the “Section”.

 

“That was a bold move for you, Admiral, to promote a first officer, turn him into a captain, and then bring this outsider to command the Athena. I see that in your crew roster, you brought in more outsiders to fill all the roles,” said the man.

 

“Mr. Smith, all the crew and the captains you specifically ordered to fill the Athena turned out to be miserable failures,” Hurst said. “We don’t need to go through that in detail, again, do we?”

 

“Of course not,” said Smith. “I was just wondering where your sanity was when you brought outsiders to this project.”

 

“From the way I see it, we don’t have much of a choice. Athena may simply dislike the shady types you keep bringing in to fill her roster,” Hurst said.

 

“Do you think she suspects something?” Smith asked.

 

“I think she does,” Hurst said. “And I hope to dislodge that suspicion. And also by going outside, we have a much larger base of personality profiles to choose from for a crew and a captain. I must warn you that I have a major obligation to get this project right. This project is way overbudget, and not even the Section could hide the big accounting hole the project has created. It will surely be noticed by the Starfleet bean counters, and already I have a number of admirals that requested information about this project.”

 

“You can’t use this starship anyway if we can’t get it to cooperate repeatedly and loyally,” Hurst continued.

 

“You know why we need this starship badly, Admiral Hurst,” Smith explained. “After the Dominion War, we have entered a new period of uncertain hostility. We have powerful enemies all over our borders. We have the Romulans, waiting like vultures to sieze opportunity when there is chaos and conflict in both the Federation and the Klingon Empire. Renegade mutated Jem’Hadar have refused the stand down orders from the Founders and still pose as a major threat. The Dominion is still around and I still don’t trust them, and the Cardassians as well. A new stable wormhole, as well as transwarp and slipstream technology, can introduce all sorts of hostile and dangerous races from the Delta quadrant to our home quadrant. The Borg still makes sporadic incursions, each time adapting a new strategy against us. What is left of the Maquis has joined with the Orion pirates to create a new pirate force. There is dissent and discord in many of the Federation planets against our current government and its policies, against the perceived corruption and power abuse of many of our leaders and admirals. Sadly I can’t blame them. Even the legendary Picard rebelled to protect the Baku, all symptoms, all signs of the decay that has come to the Federation. All this is creating a new support for the pirates and the beginnings for a major insurrection within the Federation.”

 

“As the Chinese once said, ‘we live in interesting times’,” Smith said. “And this is why we need Athena. We need a stealth intruder ship and a deep space strike weapon that can preempt our threats and do so with the minimum risk and loss of our own personnel. We must regain control of our future.”

 

“You lecture me as if I don’t know all this,” Hurst said. “I know very well the chaos that has come to the quadrant, but I am not sure if Athena is the answer. For all you know, it may be that we ourselves are not the solution to the problem, but the very problem itself. We are sacrificing our values and principles here to gain an end.”

 

“You’re not growing weak on me, are you Admiral Hurst,” Smith said. “Principles are left on the classroom and those who can afford it. The reality of this universe is dog eat dog, and the strong survive. The strong dog does not care about principle, only that it wins and with it, survival. But enough talk, Admiral. We need results. The time for peaceful, idyllic exploration for the Federation has ended. It is time we kick ass.”

 

“So, what do you think of your new Captain Garret?” Smith asked.

 

“He has demonstrated an uncanny tactical background, and has an excellent record in the Dominion War. His courage is exemplary, and so is his coolness under fire. He has every indication of being a team person. But the biggest reason I pick him lies with his diplomatic skill and tact. He could deal with Athena, get her under control. I am confident of the man. I believe, later, we can turn him into our cause, bit by bit,” Hurst explained.

 

“I seem to have no choice but to trust you on this, Admiral,” Smith said.

 

Then Smith stood up, and walked to the door. “Just remember, Admiral, we will be around, and we will be back.”

 

* * *

 

This is the day, Garret thought, the day he will actually command a starship out of the docks and into the field of action. Even with a weird ship like Athena, even with a ship he didn’t expect to command, it is still a momentous occasion in life.

In his hand, he held a card. He remembered the conversation Hurst gave when the Admiral handed him the card.

 

“Just remember, insert this card on a special slot underneath the Captain’s chair. This is just for emergency,” Hurst said. “This is in case if Athena does a HAL on you.”

 

“A HAL?”

 

“Yes, HAL,” Hurst replied. “Don’t you remember the old Earth movies? The murderous computer in that movie?”

 

“Oh, that HAL,” Garret replied. The card was merely a breadboard, an old instrument used to teach youngsters the fundamental of electronics. The breadboard had some wires soldered directly into it using a pattern.

 

“So what does this do exactly?”

 

“It will short out Athena’s control of the ship, enabling the crew to take over manually,” Hurst explained. “Oh I’m sure you’re thinking, why don’t we just use the usual protocol of authorization levels and such. Athena is a clever AI, and she has the potential to hack any computer and override any security. We cannot take the chance. So we developed this low tech solution. No computer can simply override a set of hard wires fixed on a pattern.”

 

“This is interesting,” Garret observed. “A low tech failsafe against the most advanced computer there is. I just hope I won’t use it.”

 

“I hope that you won’t encounter the situation that would force you to use it,” Hurst said.

“But as always, we need a failsafe.”

 

Garret fiddled the card and placed it on a small pocket on his black uniform. He walked proudly to the bridge and the door opened. Greeting him were the plastic smiles on the faces of the new crew, or at least, half of a supposedly new crew. This still feels like a skeleton crew.

 

“Welcome, Captain Garret,” the green Ka’nal greeted him with a salute and a handshake. Then Garret went through the same pleasantries with Drudge the Gorn and the young T’pak. An elder and more experienced Vulcan would have been nice but T’pak has shown high marks in the Academy.

 

Then there is the climax of it all, to finally settle on the Captain’s throne chair. Garret took a deep breath as he allowed his butt to slowly settle on the cushion above the throne’seat. The fraction of the second as his butt squeezed against the cushion seemed eternal, and Garret let out a big smile. Ka’nal smiled too, dreaming that one day, he too would have his own command, his own ship.

 

Garret startled with a reflex jerk when someone suddenly lay a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and there was Athena grinning like the Cheshire cat.

 

“So, how does it feel, Captain? Athena whispered intimately to his ear.

 

“Oh, despite your best efforts, wonderful, Athena,” Garret replied with a Cheshire grin of his own.

 

“I suggest, Athena,” Drudge said, “that this time you must respect the Captain. Either sit down and behave, or please vacate from the bridge.”

 

“Hmmph!” Athena smirked and vanished from the bridge.

 

“If she’s the future of Starfleet, I am going to find another future elsewhere,” Ka’nal remarked.

 

Minutes later, Lt. Ghia on engineering is on the com and having a major fit. “A complaint already? In my first hour of command,” Garret quipped. “Lieutenant, file your complaints on record but in the meantime, I want the ship ready pronto, understood?”

 

“Yes, Captain,” Ghia responded reluctantly.

 

“What did you say? I want more life in your answer.”

 

“YES, Captain,” Ghia responded. “But I still want to let you know, we’re under manned here.”

 

“Get me to the Admiral,” Garret ordered. But before the order can be enacted, Hurst’s face was already on screen.

 

“Greetings, Captain. I hope you had a good rest. This is shaping up to be a fine day,” Hurst said.

 

“Same to you, Admiral,” Garret responded.

 

“I hoped you enjoyed your first moments of command, Captain,” Hurst said. “I remembered when I had my first ship commission. It was a wonderful experience and one that I will always savor.”

 

“It was wonderful, Admiral, but now I have some matters to speak of,” Garret said.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk!” Hurst replied, his hand raised in a gesture. “I know what you will try to say. You’re under manned, right? But that was the intention in the first place. We need to run trials to test Athena’s autonomous capabilities. If necessary, Athena could run the ship by herself.”

 

“And make an entire crew obsolete. I still wonder why the ship still has a skeleton crew if that’s your reason. Look, I just want to get this ship started running smoothly before we get into any test,” Garret said.

 

“We don’t have much time for that. The bean counters are demanding results or this project may face consequences. The USS Kiev, Manila, Gemini, Colt, and Swordfish are in the vicinity to test the Athena’s combat capabilities in shield fire tests. I will still need a crew to monitor Athena’s actions and if necessary, to override in the event of any systems failure.”

 

“Eh, so humans are just good only for backup,” Garret replied with some sarcasm. “Shield fire tests, isn’t that sort of dangerous?” Shield fire engagements use live weaponry. The idea is to knock out the other ship’s shields in mock combat without damaging the hull.

 

“I’m not sure if the ship and the crew is ready for mock combat trials, Admiral, I request that we be given some time to get a smooth operation here.”

 

“Garret, I’m giving you an hour to get things smoothly running. Then we will begin the mock trials. It is important that we test Athena’s autonomous combat capabilities.   And one more thing.  The Athena is equipped with phased cloaking.  You are authorized to use that capability.”

 

Garret appeared stunned as he stared at Hurst.  “Phase cloaking?  Is that in violation of our treaty with the Romulans?  Notwithstanding they allowing a certain number of Defiant ships to have conventional cloaking devices.”

 

“It is a violation,” Hurst bluntly admitted.  “But we have no choice.  That treaty was made a century ago before they began to use phase cloaking in clandestine operations against us.  We have protested against the Romulan use of phase cloaking, but the protests have fallen into deaf ears.  The Federation in retaliation have begun to incorporate phase cloaking in a limited number of ships.   However, I must warn you, you cannot disclose this capability.  The ships participating in this event have been advised and warned about your phase cloaking.  We need to test this feature in a war like environment, and it may teach the others how to deal with a phased cloaked Romulan vessel.”

 

“Any more surprises I should know about?” Garret asked.

 

“Maybe more, but it’s all in a you need to know basis,” Hurst said.  “Good luck and God speed. Hurst out.” The screen turned black.

 

 

“You see, we got our orders, ladies and gentlemen,” Garret announced.

 

“I’m not really sure if this is a wise idea,” Ka’nal observed. “We will be handing over complete control to Athena during combat.”

 

“A computer can never replace a living being, for courage, tenacity and creativity in combat,” Drudge remarked.

 

“I heard that, Froggy!” Athena barked through the speakers. “I will show you!”

 

“I plan to make a formal request for a modification so that we can get some privacy aboard this ship,” Ka’nal observed.

 

“The issue is, Athena, can we trust you?” Garret asked. He remembered the card in his pocket and felt with his fingers where the hidden slot is at in his Captain’s throne. Athena’s hologram was not around the bridge but her presence is always anywhere in the ship.

 

“Oh you can surely trust me,” Athena quipped. “I have no where to go and I’m always looking out for myself and my crew, despite what all you fleshy creatures think of me. The question is, can I trust you?”

 

“I’m sure you can trust me too. My vested interests are the same as yours—to succeed,” Garret replied.

 

“Then we have an understanding for the moment,” Athena said. “I’m ready when you are.”

 

Garret contacted engineering and the signal from Ghia is all green.

 

“Prepare to disengage docking clamps.” The shipyard prefers to use mechanical docking clamps instead of holding fields due to the much lower energy consumption and failure risks.

 

“Three meters from the holding position,” the ensign said. “Four meters…five meters…ten meters…clamps retracting…we are clear…”

 

“Take her out slowly, ensign,” Garret ordered.

 

“Aye, Captain,” the ensign replied.

 

“I could do that myself you know,” Athena reminded through the com speakers.

 

“Give the crew a break please, Athena. I need to see how the crew handles the ship first before letting you take over autonomously,” Garret said.

 

“Aye, Captain,” Athena replied.

 

The screens flickered and Captain Wu’s face appeared. “Hello, Randy! So how’s the first day in your new job?”

 

“Things can get better,” Garret replied.

 

“I remembered the first day when I was captain, and it was hectic, crazy. But I got through it and boy was it fun the first time,” Wu said. “You will remember this day always.”

 

“I am sure I will,” Garret replied. No one would fully comprehend just how weird this situation is, Garret thought.

“Wow, she looks like a fine ship, nice and sleek, not like this bucket,” Wu said, commenting on his own Norway class destroyer.

 

“The Kiev is a fine, solid ship, a new generation destroyer that packs a lot of firepower for her size,” Garret said. ‘I am going to miss her.”

 

“We all miss you here too,” Wu said.

 

“How’s the new first officer?” Garrest asked.

 

“Commander Shelley is here,” Wu said. Her face appeared in the screen, inquisitive blue eyes with shoulder length blonde hair. Garret always had a thing for Shelley and it seemed just right  that she took his spot as per his recommendations to David.

 

“Nice to see you again Shelley,” Garret said.

 

“You too, Garret. I see that you got a nice ship.”

 

“Yak, yak yak, we got business to do!” Athena yelped suddenly, appearing near the Captain’s throne. She ran and quickly bent to whisper something to Garret’s ear. “I can see you got something for her.”

 

“Who’s that?” Shelly asked.

 

Garret looked sternly at Athena. “An unwelcome passenger with a major disciplinary problem,” he said as he looked back at Shelley in the screen. “She will be taken care off.”

 

“One time let’s all meet again with the Captain,” Shelley proposed.

 

“The shipyard here has a nice bar, just set the time,” Garret said.

 

“Okay, will do. After the tests are over, Shelley out.”

 

Garret gave an icy stare to Athena. “Next time, demonstrate some manners, okay? I expect that your creators should have that programmed into your memory banks, eh?”

 

Athena laughed as she vanished. “She’s right this time, you know, ha ha ha,” Ka’nal laughed. “Nice human female, that Shelley.”

 

Garret smiled as he gave Ka’nal the mind-your-business look. Turning around to face the screen, Garret announced. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let’s bring the Athena to her paces.”

 

 

 

The USS Athena Pt 4

 

This is all too sudden, Garret thought. While each crew member showed outstanding competency, it will take a while to synchronize all these talents into a smooth well oiled machine. Now Hurst wants a combat trial in just an hour after leaving the dock. What was he expecting to achieve? He felt that Hurst was under pressure to make the project succeed under a tight deadline. Why?

 

It was no surprise that it was Hurst’s face that appeared onscreen to hurry up things. “I am onboard the USS Manila now. You know Captain Jason DeWitt, do you?”

 

DeWitt’s face appeared onscreen with Hurst. “I certainly do. We fought in the Dominion together. Been in the same battles but different ships. Are you a captain now Jason?” Garret answered.

 

“For the USS Manila, ” DeWitt said. “A fine ship, this Steamrunner class. And I heard you just made captain too, Randy. That Athena of yours looks like a fine ship too. Deadly and sleek…”

 

The thought of saying out “I won’t mind trading places with you” crossed Garret’s mind.

“It would be neat to test that Athena ship of yours, Randy, against my Steamrunner,” Jason said. “I want to see what’s she’s got.”

 

Jason has always been the challenging type. “You’re welcome to it, Jason,” Garret replied. “Any time.”

 

Another message came through the comlink. “Am I missing the fun here?” It was Captain Wu of the USS Kiev. Behind the low profile Norway class destroyer were the two Defiant class escorts, the Colt and the Swordfish, followed by the Nova class USS Gemini science ship and the Sabre class.

 

“It will be fun to tangle with you, Randy, from the opposite side, Wu out”.

 

Now David Wu is a guy who knows how he would think, Garret thought. Shelley, Wu’s first officer, also knows how he thinks. That puts the odds against him in this game.

 

Already he is numerically disadvantaged, with at least six ships, two of them destroyers, set against him. Again he thought, what was Hurst trying to do? Is he that confident of Athena’s capabilities? The way Jason and David talked, Hurst may have led them to believe they would be engaging a human opponent, himself, not an AI. The deliberate deception on Hurst’s part may be part of the experiment.

 

“A big party of Type A male jocks here as captains,” Athena said, her form suddenly appearing right next to Garret’s throne. “I can’t wait to kick their butts.”

 

“The trials require that we surrender control of the ship completely to the AI,” Ka’nal said. “I am not sure if that is a wise idea.”

“Its the orders,” Garret said. Drudge nodded negatively as he surrendered weapons control to the Athena AI.

 

“So let’s begin then,” Hurst said. “First we will have the small ships try to take you down.”

 

“Bring it on!” Athena challenged.

 

“You got the helm, Athena,” Garret said, his hands moving to the back of his head in a gesture of relaxation. “Everyone, I think all we can do now is relax and let the AI handle things.”

 

“Well for one,” Drudge said, “I wish this ship would lose, if anything to teach Athena a lesson in humility. If she wins and there may be profound consequences in the long term viability of this job as a tactical officer. All our jobs, including yours eventually, Captain.”

 

The thought crossed Garret’s mind that the role of Captain may be obsoleted by a new generation of unmanned, sentient ships. Perish the thought. The implications are there but this is not the time to speculate on the long term future.

 

Athena’s face turned serious. “We got phasing cloak capability, but the Admiral has anticipated that. Of all the ships, the USS Gemini science vessel is equipped with a tachyon grid that can detect a phased cloak ship, and direct the other vessels to the spot.

 

“We must take out that grid before we can successfully play hide and seek.”

 

“Even though I am informed of the reasons why the ship has phased cloak, I still cannot believe that we have violated the Treaty of Algeron signed with the Romulans,” T’pak said.

 

 

“I cannot blame the Federation,” Drudge said.  “It was a fool treaty anyway, and the wise will wake up to that fact.  The Romulans have used phase cloaking in dishonorable and treacherous attacks against both the Federation and the Gorn Confederation.  In addition, they continue to use various inhuman weapons that had been outlawed by secret treaty for humanitarian reasons.”

 

Athena said. “The Romulans never really kept their end of the bargain in arms restriction or the Neutral Zone, why should we? The Romulans have perfected phasing cloak and got in their latest ships and is refitting old ones. Suffice to say, we have perfected our own version of the phasing cloak. Not only have we perfected phasing cloak, but we can cloak with our shields up.”

 

“Shields with cloak?” Garret asked.

 

“Old Earth ingenuity,” Athena explained. “We simply power the shields using energy stored from trilithium storage cells, while the ship’s main energy resource powers the cloak. The disadvantage is that if hit, the shields cannot regenerate and they will degrade in time as the cells deplete until they are recharged. Nor can they remodulate. The more powerful our shield settings are, the shorter the battery life will be and so is the shields. We can maintain an average of forty percent shields when phased cloak is activated.”

 

“Why didn’t you use the stored energy for weapons?” T’pak asked.

 

Athena explained. “Because weapons take up even more energy, and this is only feasible for a short burst. My databanks have recorded such an incident when a ship fired while cloaked. That was back in the 23rd century when an experimental Bird of Prey led by the Klingon General Chang engaged and fired at the Enterprise-A led by James Tiberius Kirk. Suffice to say, the Bird of Prey lost. The disadvantage of firing weapons during cloak mode using storage cells is that you either have weak bursts, or very short ones. In the end, with the weight penalty imposed by the cells against a small ship like the Bird of Prey handicapped the potential of the idea and the Klingons gradually lost interest. Also many Klingons rejected the idea of firing while cloaked as a dishonorable move, and many refused to consider it even if the technology was practical.”

 

“While we have improved energy storage technology, there is also a great increase in the potency of our weapons, and thereby, their energy requirements. Suffice to say I am capable of firing while cloaked, but mainly for defensive phasers as a last emergency and at the cost of reserve energy for shielding.”

 

“Hurst is well aware of my phased cloaking capability, and we can’t use it long. The Gemini has specially equipped with tachyon grids that will detect us. Hurst apparently wants to test both the Athena’s cloaking and the Gemini’s detection systems.”

 

“That was quite interesting,” Garret applauded. Mentally, he applauded for the even more interesting ship. Garret placed his hand under his chin in a thoughtful gesture. Yes, he thought. Let’s see how Athena really performs. Now, he’s beginning to get as curious as Hurst.

 

“The ship is picking up speed. Warp has been engaged. Warp 1…2…5…” the ensign said.

Garret twiddled his thumbs. What was she trying to do?

 

“We got four ships in pursuit,” Drudge said. “Two Defiant class escorts, the Nova class vessel and the Sabre class escort.”

 

“Warp 8…9…9.5…9.6…9.8!” the ensign said.

 

“The other ships are falling behind,” Drudge observed.

 

“Warp 9.99!” the ensign said. “..and we’re still going faster.”

 

“We got hull vibration,” T’pak reported. “Athena is heading into a star system.”

 

“The four ships are still behind us,” Drudge reported. “Their weapons are energized. Athena’s weapons are energizing too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aboard the IRW D’PakThau,

 

“This is most interesting,” Riana said, keeping her icy demeanor. The affirmation of the existance of the new Prometheus class ship by the Talon scout D’sul was a major bonanza. It has affirmed the purpose and importance of this mission.

 

“Now they’re playing a cat and mouse game as they test the new ship,” Riana said. While the Shadow class D’PaktThau cloaked and hid among the asteroids, she had been monitoring the subspace communications between the Federation fleet and the Prometheus vessel. “Nothing could suit my plans better,” she thought. The trials also provided a golden opportunity to observe Federation starship tactics in action, and most especially what special moves the new Prometheus vessel is capable of.

 

There is another Romulan fleet nearby cloaked and situated as a reserve, comprising at least a Raptor and a Griffin class cruiser, with two more Talon escorts. She could call this fleet as a reinforcement, but she took the brave decision by not doing so. The Prometheus has outfought entire Warbirds with hardly a crew, and a Shadow lacks the Warbird’s power. She only has Talon scouts and Shrike destroyers. This time, the Prometheus class ship has escorts. Based on paper, the forces are just about even, with a slight advantage to her. By any indication of the encounter with the Prometheus, the odds are terribly against her.

 

As it it really mattered.

 

The Tal Shi’ar works against overwhelming odds, and that’s a typical day of work. Speed, stealth and strategy are the real weapons of the Tal Shi’ar, not phasers and disrupters. Bringing more ships risk detection and compromise stealth, and reduce the cohesion inherent with small numbers.

 

“Fleet, maintain cloaked mode but keep a respectable distance from the Nova class science ship,” Riana ordered. “Shrikes, Talons, follow me.”

 

Still cloaked, the Shadow emerged from the asteroid belt, her escorts close behind. “Engage warp. Pursue and shadow the Prometheus class ship,” she ordered to the ensign. She will know when is her time to strike.

 

* * *

 

 

“She’s crazy!” Ka’nal observed, as the Athena plunged towards a green gas giant, two Defiant escorts and a Sabre right on her tail. The ship was optimized for deep space combat, not combat near planetary space.

 

“She’s got a dual image out,” Drudge reported. Instead of trying to jam signals, which consumes valuable power that could be used for other things like weapons and shields, the Athena uses a new system of deception. This new system confuses enemy sensors by projecting a near image of herself using her powerful holoemitters and within the range capability of these devices. This creates a dual image near her actual location.

 

The Defiants were firing their phasers and torpedoes at a fake image of the Athena, near the Athena itself. The phasers and torpedoes whizz by.

 

“The escorts are readjusting their sensors,” Athena proclaimed, her female form standing right next to the Captain’s throne, eyes transfixed on the screen. “Apparently they have discovered my ruse.”

 

Two photon torpedoes left the Athena’s aft, hitting the forward shields of one of the Defiant escorts. “Target fore shields was down to less than twenty percent,” T’pak reported. If the ship lost one section of its shields completely or less than ten percent, its out of the contest as per rules of engagement.

 

“Call it my ass shot,” Athena laughed. Before the Defiant class escort called the USS Colt could get away, secondary defensive phasers scorched what’s left of the front shields to zero.

 

“She’s out of the game,” Athena remarked, one hand holding up a V sign.

 

The Athena shuddered as phasers hit the aft shields. “Aft shields down to 70%,” T’pak reported.

 

“Ouch! I know I know,” Athena complained. Behind them, the USS Swordfish was closing in.

 

“I am not doing this for your benefit, but for the benefit of the captain and the rest of the crew,” T’pak snapped back.

 

Garret folded his arms and crossed his legs. His mind was mixed with thoughts. On one hand, he didn’t want his ship to lose, but on the other, it would be nice to see Athena getting it in the butt for a change.

 

“Those pulse phasers really sting,” Athena remarked about the weapons on the Defiant class ships. “Hang on to your seatbelts—oh dear me, we don’t have seatbelts….”

The Athena suddenly swerved port side, taking some of the bridge crew off balance, with T’pak and Drudge dearly hanging on using some grab rails. The escort’s pulse phasers screamed missing underneath the Athena’s belly.

 

“Who is the maniac driving this ship!” Ghia shouted through the com speakers.

 

“Those escorts have pulse phasers that really sting. But those things have firing arcs mainly concentrated on the front,” Athena explained as the ship moved alongside the escort. “Hang on to your pants and panties…”

 

The Athena made a sudden roll, phaser strips unleashing red beams. The Swordfish caught the beams, but the agile escort ship was rolling as well, distributing the phaser fire on all its shields.

 

“The Swordfish has sixty percent shield capacity,” Ka’nal reported.

 

“Damn!” Athena cursed. The Swordfish threw directional thrusters forward, causing the ship to brake. The Athena went right past her, and the Swordfish unleashed two photon torpedoes.

 

The Athena reacted quickly, boosting impulse. One photon torpedo missed the tail of the Athena narrowly, but the other hit the shields.

 

“Aft shields thirty percent,” Ka’nal reported.

 

“You don’t look so impressive now, Athena,” Garret commented in a cool manner.

 

“Just watch, I’m not through yet,” she hissed.

 

“Regenerative systems at maximum, we got aft shields going to sixty percent. Full level in fifteen seconds,” Drudge reported.

 

“What’s the status of the Swordfish’s shields?” Garret asked.

 

“She’s regenerating and is nearly eighty percent now,” Ka’nal reported. “She’s also trying to latch on to our tail.”

 

Two aft photon torpedoes went screaming, but defensive phasers from the Swordfish destroyed them. The Swordfish however, could not counter the Athena’s rear phaser arcs, torching the Swordfish’s front shields.

 

“The Swordfish’s front shields are down fifty percent,” Ka’nal noted. “Captain, the Nova class USS Gemini and the Sabre class USS Sakura has begun their attack pattern.”

 

The Swordfish kept its pressure, pulse phasers continuing to singe the Athena’s rear shields, trying to tear down the shields as fast as Athena could regenerate them. “The little guy does not know how to quit!” Athena remarked.

 

The Athena took a turn towards the green gas giant, the Swordfish in hot pursuit. Taking a risky move, the Athena dived into a faint dust ring orbiting the green giant. The black sky turned dark green from the rarified gases orbiting with the ring. Forward shields have been reinforced as dust particles impacted against the shields with noticeable visual fireworks. It was like plunging underwater, but this was stellar space.

 

The Swordfish had to forcibly slow down as the dust particles hit its weakened front shields like bullets. The Athena slipped under the ring, then warped. The Swordfish quickly followed. But as it prepared to warp in pursuit, its scanners detected a ship rapidly heading to its direction.

 

The captain ordered screen magnification of the oncoming ship. The triangular head of the Athena was pointed at its direction, coming head on.

 

“Evasive maneuvers!” the Swordfish captain shouted. But it was too late. Three photon torpedoes were coming its way, one missed, but two fried the shields. Coming down like an eagle sensing its prey, deliberately measured phaser arcs reduced the Swordfish’s forward shields to zero. The Athena flashed over the Swordfish, and rocking side to side signaling its victory in the game.

 

“I’m impressed, Athena,” Garret said. “But then, that’s only a small ship.”

 

The captain of the Swordfish made the old Earth traditional naval salute, as the Athena turned to engage the Gemini and the Sakura.

 

The Athena disappeared right before the Sakura fired. Weapons lost lock, as phasers and torpedoes whisked into empty space.

 

The Athena phased through the satellite ring of the green giant as the Gemini and Sakura searched the space, like hounds sniffing for their prey. Not far, the two Defiant escorts parked themselves for a rest and a view of the battle.

 

“I think we have been found,” Athena said. “Hurst got his test.”

 

“I am confirming detection by the USS Gemini,” T’pak said.

 

“Stand back, and hang on to your seats and handlebars!” Athena warned. The ship dropped out of its lair in the ring.

 

“The Gemini and the Sakura coming in at seven eights impulse,” Drudge said.

 

“Brace for warp, we are engaging,” Athena said.

 

The warp engines whirred as the Athena warped into deep space, the starry points of lights reduced into strips of rainbows.

 

“The Sabre class would be a bit more to handle than the Defiant class,” Athena explained. “It’s small and just as agile, except its got true phaser strips which enables it to fire at a much larger arc than the Defiants. Same with the Gemini. ”

 

The Athena began to turn around towards the two attacking ships, its forward shields being the strongest. Three photon torpedoes and a barrage of phasers headed out to the nearest attacker, the Sabre class. The Saber’s defensive phaser array picked off two of the photon torpedoes were picked but a third hit the port shield as it was about to turn away. But before the phasers could wipe the shield out, the Sakura turned to expose its strong shield side, and the Athena’s phasers glanced at a fresh shield.

 

The Athena still has a secondary pulse phaser array with only a forward arc. Rapid fire phasers ate at the Sabre’s shields, but the Sabre kept moving, keeping the hits well distributed against all its shields, making sure a fresh shield face would confront a new incoming torpedo or phaser fire.

 

A photon torpedo whizzed by the Athena’s port side, but another photon torpedo made its hit. The Athena rolled to present its fresh shield against the new attacker, this time, the Gemini. It’s phasers connecting to its target, as the Gemini flashed perpedicular to the direction the Athena was going.

 

“We got a good distribution against our shields. They’re still up by over sixty percent,” Drudge said.

 

The Gemini made partying shots from its rear phasers, hitting the Athena’s shields once again. As the Athena completed its roll, it banked towards the Gemini, both wide arc phaser strips and foward pulse phasers fring at the rear of the Gemini.

 

As the Gemini tried to get away, the Athena pursued right in her back. Secondary pulse phasers kept up the pressure as the Athena’s phaser strips recharged. The Sakura moved in right behind the Athena, sandwiching the ship between the Gemini. The Gemini lashed back with a photon torpedo and defensive phaser fire but the Athena maintained a healthy over eight five percent on the fore shields.

 

Forward phaser fire from the Sakura torched the Athena’s rear shields. The Athena countered with two photon torpedos, which caught the Sabre class frigate right in the face. The Sakura moved away before the Athena’s rear phasers can finish off her front shields. The Gemini banked away as well, the Athena’s pulse phasers eroding the Gemini’s rear shields dangerously thin.

 

Drudge nodded his head. “I have this bad feeling that my job has become obsolete.”

 

“Athena seems to have the ability to track multiple targets simultaneously and provide a tactical solution for each,” T’pak noted, wiggling his pointed ears.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” Drudge noted, his claw scratching at his scales.

Aboard the Steamrunner class USS Manila, Hurst called Captain Wu of the Norway class USS Kiev. “Captain, do you think it’s about time we liven things up a bit?”

 

“That’s four against one, would that be fair?” Wu asked.

 

“For Athena, nah, maybe for her, eight to one would be fair enough,” Hurst replied.

Aboard the Athena, Drudge warned. “The Kiev and the Manila had engaged warp and is heading to our direction.”

 

“Not fair, four on one,” Garret observed with two fingers on his cheek.

 

“It only means I need to try harder and strike faster,” Athena said. “Starting with the Gemini.”

 

The Nova class ship was clearly no match against the Athena’s firepower and tried vainly to escape. Like a shark sensing a wounded seal, the Athena closed in, the Gemini’s rear defensive phasers barely denting the Athena’s densely powerful forward shields. The Sakura took the opportunity to recharge its shields and is heading back for a hit and run against the Athena.

 

The Athena’s foward firing pulse phasers ripped at the Gemini’s shields. If the fire was sustained, the Gemini would have been obliterated, but the amount of fire was just enough to turn the shields to zero.

 

“YES!” Athena shouted, performing a pelvic trust dance on the bridge. “I am cooking! Somebody stop me!”

 

“I must remind you that this is too premature for a victory dance ritual. Your hip actions can also be regarded as obscene and vulgar, totally inappropriate for proper bridge protocol,” T’pak commented.

 

“Analyze this, pointy ears!” Athena remarked, her middle finger sticking up for him to see.

 

T’pak countered. “Obscene Earth gestures have no meaning to me.”

 

“Calm down now, Athena,” Garret said. “T’pak is right, I don’t care what you are, you will observe some dignified decorum on the bridge.” Athena nodded affirmatively, but not before she stuck her tongue out at T’pak for a parting shot.

 

Just then the Sakura was sweeping for an attack, weapons fully charged. The Sabre class had enough firepower to obliterate shields and leave a ship naked in a single alpha strike.

The lights flickered as the Athena went into phased cloak. The Sabre lost lock of the Athena, and swooped out. The Athena rushed into deep space, warp engaged with speed climbing.

“The Gemini is out of the picture, and it shouldn’t be using the tachy grids,” Athena explained. “We should be safe when cloaked.”

 

“I regret to inform you that the Gemini’s T-grid remains active, and she is supplying coordinates to the Sakura,” T’pak observed.

 

“That’s cheating,” Garret said. “Get me through to Hurst.”

 

Hurst’s face appeared in the monitor. “Hellooh, Captain, I am afraid I am too busy to entertain any calls. Hurst out.”

 

“But the rules of conduct—-damn!” Garret said. “If that is the way they want to play it…”

 

“You ain’t going to win this, Athena, fighting all three of them at the same time. We got to isolate each of them…” Garret said. “I got an idea.”

 

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?” Drudge asked.

 

“I’m ready at your signal!” Athena affirmed.

 

“I’ll take the bridge. Drudge you take the mid section, and Athena, the lower section,” Garret said.

 

Athena beamed Drudge into the midsection command bridge. Drudge finds himself on a command throne, instruments around him. “Don’t worry, I will still respond to your voice commands,” Athena said.

 

“Ready everyone?” Garret asked. This is the first time they will attempt at this, but it was a good time as any.

 

“I am in position,” Drudge affirmed.

 

“Commence seperation. Execute multiple vector attack mode!” Garret ordered. The bridge section began seperating from the engineering hull. As the saucer section moved away, the engineering hull began its split into two.

 

“What the?” the tactical officer in the Sakura exclaimed. “I got not one, but three ship readings coming our way.”

 

The captain looked stern. He was informed that the USS Athena had such a capability, but he never saw it live nor took it seriously. For a moment, he was confused, not sure of the textbook tactical solution for the situation. He should regard the situation like he would be engaged with three frigates.

 

“Lock targets on the lead ship!” he ordered.

 

The formation of three is coming down now… The Sabre’s captain watched tentatively as he waited to give the order to fire. The phasers are fully charged, and so are the torpedos.

His eyes were transfixed on the lead ship, the triangular-saucer section of the Athena, the section alone, larger than his entire ship. “Weapons are locked on the lead ship,” his tactical officer affirmed. The captain raised his hand, a signal set to fire.

 

Suddenly the saucer section disappeared right before his eyes. “Fire now!” he said.

“But sir, we lost weapons lock and the Gemini cannot fix on the lead ship’s position in time,” the tactical officer said.

 

“Just blind fire towards the most likely anticipated course of the ship, NOW!” the captain ordered.

 

“But Captain, that would kill them if we hit. That ship won’t have shields if they’re cloaked…” the tactical officer objected.

 

“This ship is different, trust me, it’s got shields even when cloaked, fire NOW!”

Three photon torpedos lashed out a spread, followed by a multiple phaser fire spread. Most of it missed, but some hit the shielded saucer section. For a moment, the outline of the cloaked saucer section appeared in the backdrop of black space, illuminated from the energy released when the phasers touched the shields.

 

“The two other ship sections are coming at us with weapons charged,” the tactical officer said.

 

While phaser strips are packed on the saucer section, the even trimmer engineering hull section ships cannot use such strips and are equipped with forward arc pulse phasers. In normal mode, these pulse phasers are the ship’s secondary phaser arrays, but in multiple vector attack mode, the pulse phasers are the main weapons of section two and three ships.

 

Like rapid fire autocannons, the pulse phasers from the two section ships fired multiple streams of chained bursts, stripping the Sakura completely of its forward shields.

 

“Decloak,” Garret ordered on the bridge of the saucer section. “And rejoin.”

 

The captain of the Sakura clapped as he watched the sections of the Athena bolted back together, first the two lower hull sections each with a pair of warp nacelles, and then the entire lower section with the angular saucer section. Clever, he thought. The saucer section drew their fire while the hull and nacelle sections attacked.

 

“That was most interesting to see, and bravo, captain,” Hurst said, his face onscreen on the Athena’s bridge. “But this does not sound like something Athena would do, and helming three seperate ships suggest to me you have interverned personally. This is suppose to be a test of Athena’s autonomous combat capability.”

 

“You play by your own rules, and we will play by ours, Admiral,” Garret said. “Your tests have one flaw. We plan to work as a team here, not each as a seperate unit.”

 

“Athena?” Hurst asked.

 

Athena appeared on bridge, beaming Drudge from the lower ship section back to the bridge as well. The big green Gorn had his own beam in his face. Athena waved a big V sign for the Admiral to see. Then she walked and stood next to the captain’s throne. “Yup, the captain is right. We will fight as a team from now on.”

 

Hurst smiled. “Then you better, because you will be engaging us next. We’re not the small ships you just took care off. We promise you, we won’t be that easy.”

 

 

 

The USS Athena Pt5

 

 

The Nova class ship, and the two Defiants placed themselves in an orbit around an asteroid belt, playing spectator and keeping an eye out on the combat exercise. Towards the star, the USS Manila and Kiev had begun their cat and mouse game with the USS Athena.

 

“Captain?” the sensors officer aboard the Gemini asked. “We know the Athena can phase cloak and do false holographic images of itself to fool sensors. Is there any reason why our sensors are detecting more cloaked ships?”

 

“Is there any damage on the sensors that occurred during the combat trials?” the captain asked.

 

“I am running diagnostics now sir….it does not appear the sensors are malfunctioning,” the science officer confirmed. “There are no problems on the tachyon grid either.”

 

“Now we got transporter signatures…”

 

Before the captain could shout “Red Alert!”, the Romulan ships appeared right in front of their screens, and at the same time, Romulan commmandos appeared on the bridge. There was a brief exchange of fire, and all the Federation officers on the bridge went down.

 

On the other decks of the ship, there was heavy phaser fire, as the Federation crew frantically tried to defend their ship. Romulan commandos threw gas grenades that knocked out the Federation security officers in an engagement defending the engineering deck. A group of Federation officers armed with phaser rifles waited on a corrigdor for the attackers. Someone quickly opened fire behind them, and as the last standing Federation officer turned around it was too late. The last thing he saw before he was knocked down was the assailant in a Federation uniform holding a phaser rifle, a Romulan commando dressed in Federation uniform and surgically altered to resemble a human.

 

“We have control of the ship, Galae Riov Riana,” the Romulan commando leader said, taking control of the bridge and the communications console.

 

“Excellent, commander, you shall be commended for the quick take over of the Federation science vessel,” Riana said. “Are there any casualties?”

 

“We have none,” the commander replied.

 

“Well then, select the important officers we can use as hostages and dispose of the rest,” Riana ordered coldly. “Do it as efficiently as possible.”

 

“Right Away, Galae Riov,” the commander replied.

 

Due to a less than efficient boarding assault, one of the Defiants managed to self destruct to avoid capture. Riana watched the brilliant explosion, a white shockwave heading out from the center as the last remnant of the USS Swordfish. The Romulan commandos that boarded the Swordfish died along with it.

 

“Tsk, tsk tsk,” she remarked, shaking her head as she set her fingers into a steeple. The price to pay for incompetence was clear. Riana was more concerned about the debris left by the destroyed ship and the energy signature given off by the explosion instead of the lives that were lost. The debris and energy signature could reveal them.

 

The boarding attempt on the other Defiant ship was more successful. The commando leader’s face flashed in the screen, gave his short status report, and Riana nodded in acknowledgement. With Romulans holding the bridge, quickly the hijacked USS Colt cloaked. Like the USS Gemini, a Romulan commando dressed in Federation uniform and surgically altered to look human, helmed the communications console.

 

“We got another ship coming out way,” the science officer aboard the IRW D’PakThau warned.

 

“On screen,” Riana ordered. “Phasing cloak engage. All ships engage cloak.” The D’PakThau faded into the blackness of space.

 

The Sabre class ship was headed towards their position, looking to regain formation with its comrades. The sensors officer aboard the USS Sakura had noticed the unusual explosion and hailed the USS Gemini.

 

A human face appeared onscreen. “This is the USS Gemini.”

 

“Our sensors detected an explosion. Is everything fine?” the captain of the Sakura asked.

“Everything is fine. We had a small malfunction with the warp core, and we are forced to vent excess energy, creating something that looked like an explosion on the sensors,” the face from the USS Gemini answered.

 

“USS Gemini, where is your captain?” the captain of the Sakura asked.

 

“He is currently busy in the engineering section right now, overlooking diagnostics and repairs on the engine,” the face from the USS Gemini said. Back in the USS Gemini, the human looking Romulan spy made a number of handsignals to his commando comrades manning the tactical console.

 

The Sakura’s captain looked at the faces of his science officer first, then his tactical officer and finally his first officer. The science officer made a negative nod, and his tactical officer agreed with him. His first officer made a suspicious look.

 

“Raise shields now! All hands to battle stations! Red Alert!” the captain screamed, running to his chair. Just then the USS Gemini released a salvo of red photon torpedos that slammed against the front shields of the Sakura.

 

The hidden Shrikes and Talons decloaked, and finally the great Shadow ship itself. The menacing green ships filled the bridge screen of the Sakura as her captain watched in horror, as spheres of yellow fire blasted out from the Romulan ships.

 

“Get us out of here, engage warp now!” he shouted. “Fire weapons!”

 

Defensive phasers tried to stop the plasma torpedos but in vain. The plasma torpedos smashed against the shields of the Sakura, rendering them dangerously thin in some areas, exposed on others. The ship shook from the impacts. Crew lost balance and fell against the walls and floor. Sparks flew from the consoles and a fire had to be extinguished.

 

The Sakura replied with phasers and photon torpedos against the Shadow class ship, but they were not enough to buckle the D’PakThau’s hefty shields.

 

“Our communications are jammed!” the Sakura’s comm officer shouted, desperately trying to send a mayday signal.

 

“Why haven’t we warped?” the captain shouted.

 

“Our engines have taken a hit and we got tractor beams holding us!” the tactical officer warned.

 

Riana watched her prey held like a fly caught in the spider web. She wanted to try this weapon, just as the victim’s shields is down and before it could attempt warp. “Engage the Psychonic weapon,” she calmly ordered.

From the D’PakThau’s deflector, a massive subwave blast swept through the Sakura and ravaged the sanity and the minds of her crew. The captain looked around him, but instead of his crew, he saw Borg drones, Jem’Hadar warriors, Klingons, Cardassians, Romulans, and all sorts of ugly unsavory monstrous aliens, their faces taunting him as they feed on the flesh of his fallen comrades. His inner hatred rose to fever pitch. They must die. All must die, those bastards.

 

He lunged at his first officer, just as the first officer drew his phaser at him. The other officers lunged at each other. The bridge and through out the ship generated into pure bloody chaos as people who were once comrades, raged and battled to kill each other.

It was not the first time she used the Psychonic blast, whose deadly embraces turns crewmen temporarily insane and drives them to kill each other. But it was always fascinating to watch. Riana allowed herself the luxury of a smile, as the Federation crewmen ripped each other to pieces. But she could not wait for all the Federation people to kill themselves right down to the last person.

 

Romulan commandos materialized in the bridge of the Sakura as the bloody struggle persisted in the bridge. Other commandos materialized in the engineering room. The Romulan commandos cut down the insane crewmen who were still alive and mauling the corpses of their dead comrades.

 

The corpse of an unlucky ensign lay slung over the steering console. One of the commandos grabbed and threw the body to the floor, and there was blood all over the console. With his hand, he swept the blood off and sat on the ensign’s chair.

 

There was another corpse over the communication console. The girl was obviously strangled, with heavy fingerprints marking her neck. The commando threw her body off the chair and into the floor. Another human looking Romulan with Federation garb replaced her in the post.

 

After conversing with his counterpart in the engine room, the commando leader signaled back to the flagship. “The ship is secure,” he declared to Riana.

 

“Excellent,” she said. “Now clean it up and bring the ship with out formation.” The Sabre, Defiant and Nova ships were just small prizes, captured pawns and rehearsals for the real prize, the USS Athena. One by one, they had to be eliminated to isolate the Athena from any help. One by one, they will close and snare the trap.

 

* * *

 

The Borg’s first major incursion into Federation space led to one of the Federation’s most tragic defeats, a virtual massacre known as the Battle of Wolf 359. After nearly a century of peace and exploration, the Federation had become fat and complecent. It’s greatest starships reflected this era of peace and prosperity—vast, majestic explorers soaring the galaxy in epic voyages of discovery, each ship built like cruise liners, as luxurious as they are big and powerful.

 

Wolf 359 was the wakeup call that ended this idyllic dream. The beautiful space and the wonderful galaxy the Federation had so explored, became hostile. Suddenly there were enemies everywhere, and the future stopped looking so bright. Instead, where there was once confidence, there was now fear. Where man once dreamt to be gods, now it faced the grim possibility of the annihilation of his species.

 

Welcome to one of the deadliest and most war torn eras of human history. Welcome to the late 24th century.

 

As a consequence of the wakeup call, Federation engineers rushed back to the drawing board, trying to resurrect something they had forgotten for almost a century—the pure warship. Remove the luxuries and excess science equipment. The warship must be simple and pure to its purpose. It must be sleek and thin so it will be hard to hit. It must be small and light so it can be agile and quick. It must pack as much armor and weapons into its small and light body.

 

So it begins the Federation initated Program Beta in secrecy. Beta was the thinly disguised name for Borg, the original nemesis the ships were primarily designed against. But the possibility of threats from the Romulans, Cardassians and the Dominion opened some flexibility in their design. Program Beta initiated the coming of new unconventional ships that would herald a new era of starship design. The new ships were to be equipped with quantum torpedos and ablative armor as standard. Because of their compact design, conventional high arc phaser strips cannot be used on some of these ships, and a new phaser type was developed, the modulating rapid fire pulse phaser. The rapid firing of these phasers can be so fast, that no shield can modulate fast enough to block every phaser pulse if every pulse was given a random frequency.

 

The fruition of Program Beta was four new ship classes—so far. The first, it turned out, was the Defiant class escort. Taking a bit more time to ripen was an alternative project that was supposed to compete with the Defiant class for the same functional slot but was approved anyway for production by a Federation aware of the value of alternative safeguards. That turned out to be the Sabre class. Program Beta moved from the escort classification to the destroyer classification. The first ship to come out was unusually called the Steamrunner class, a stocky dense ship that packed more armor and weapons per square meter of its limited space more than any other ship in the Federation fleet. The second ship was the alternative design, called the Norway class. Both the Steamrunner and the Norway, like the Defiant, could pack only forward arc pulse phaser cannons on the front bow, with rear conventional defensive phasers on the rear. Still to be released, are the cruiser and dreadnaught classes of Program Beta.

 

There, under his command, Admiral Hurst thought, two fine examples of Program Beta in action, the USS Kiev and the USS Manila, themselves now a litmus test for still another new and secretive starship program.

Competing with Program Beta was Program Alpha, the original program which the Federation originally conceived before the Borg threat to bring about the next generation of starships. After the Wolf 359 wake up call, the engineers of Alpha refused to concede with the original explorer vision, which they claim was the vision Starfleet was built upon. So they modified their concept instead, creating a faster leaner better armed starship but preserved the explorer vision. Small cross sections and streamlined saucer hulls with an elliptical or triangular shape were the trademark of Program Alpha, which produced the Nova family class of science ships and its greatest pride, the Sovereign class.

 

Part of Program Alpha was a deep space explorer bigger than the Nova, but small enough to deal with situations that would does not merit using a Galaxy class sized starship. The result was an advanced explorer that was eventually called the Intrepid class. But few people knew that there were several design proposals before one was eventually selected and evolved into the Intrepid.

 

Enter the Section, a secret faction of idealistic Starfleet officers that obey only one principle—desperate times require desperate means. They saw that the boyscout idealism of the Federation may also be its greatest weakness, a weakness new more powerful enemies are willing to exploit. They saw among the Federation’s science programs, the same complacency that made them vulnerable to a new and unexpected enemy like the Borg. Among the programs, there was none that could create the tools and technology that can bring the fight to the enemy. They saw in Program Alpha, the same stubborn and fatal complacency. They saw in Program Beta, a slightly better vision but one that still leaves a defensive Federation timid to being the battle to the enemy. They saw in both, not one thing that could fit their requirements. They wanted a ship capable of bringing the battle deep into the enemy’s heart, a stealth intruder ship optimized for deep space combat and offensive strikes, the Starfleet equivalent of the legendary stealth fighters of the 21st century. For the Section, who view themselves as the Knights of a new generation, it would be their Sword, the Excalibur that would bring defeat to their enemies and preserve the great dream of the Camelot of the galaxy, the Federation.

A Section officer was involved in the design work of Project Alpha-B, which gave birth to the Intrepid class. He saw among the various engineering proposals, potential in one of the designs. The engineer for this particular proposal was redeployed, financing was secured and the new secret project was called Omega.

 

The first fruit of Program Omega was Prometheus.

 

And now, it is Omega’s greatest test so far. The Steamrunner and the Norway class acted like bigger Defiants, better armed and armored. But bigger means less agile. The agility of the smaller ships had given Athena some trouble before, but despite the greater firepower of the larger ships, Athena’s agility is bringing the offensive to them. The Steamrunner has its massive firepower concentrated on the bow, foward arc firing powerful pulse phasers that lacked the wide degree arcs of phaser strips. It was a disadvantage the Athena was aware and fully exploiting.

 

Athena just burned the USS Manila’s rear shields, racing from the back and making a fly pass of the Steamrunner. It wasn’t enough to take the Manila off the game, but it served as a stern warning it could. When the Manila fired its prodigious firepower, the Athena flicked away with near impossible agility that resembled more of a fighter. The Steamrunner would have been terrifying against a bigger slower ship, but now it feels like a turtle being circled by a shark. Athena was wise enough to take out the small ships first, as their agility gave Athena a handful. Now she’s applying the same lesson to them.

If you deal with a shark, be a fisherman, Hurst thought.

 

The Athena making another pass, and all the USS Manila could do was anticipate her attack and turn the side with the least weakened shields towards her. The Athena’s long range phaser strips started shaving the Steamrunner’s shields again. If she brings her shorter range but powerful pulse phasers into bear, the game can be over. They can all go home, and he will make a nice successful report about the Athena’s capabilities. The Section will be happy. They will all be happy.

 

But it isn’t like him to test something without bringing it to final limits, to use up every ounce of reserve and exploit every opportunity. Only in the toughest of tests, can the truest mettle be seen.

 

The Athena closed in like a hungry shark, sensing blood, eager to finish its wounded prey with one nasty bite out of its shields.

 

Then suddenly it flicked away, rushing to avoid a stream of pulse phaser fire from the Kiev, which dived in like a hawk after her. The hits reduced the Athena’s shields by a third. It’s about time the Kiev and the Manila do some coordinated tactics.

 

Captain Wu’s face appeared laughing onscreen on Athena’s bridge. “Haha, Randy, you’re good, but not that good! You and you’re trick ship ain’t going to get away from me…”

Garret laughed back. “I like to see you try, David.”

 

Hurst is clever, Garret thought. The Manila allowed itself to play bait, luring his Athena into a position where it can be struck by the Kiev. Now the Kiev is on hot pursuit, pulse phasers firing, stripping the Athena’s aft shields bit by bit. Suddenly the Athena disappeared from their sights.

 

“Phase cloaking, not fair!” Wu cried out.

 

The USS Manila had joined the Kiev on a slow search near the green giant rings, where the Athena last disappeared. They suspected that the Athena was using the rings in conjunction with the cloaking for cover and escape.

 

“You’re not going to find her like this, playing cat and mice,” Hurst said. “The Athena can strike and fade at will. Even with two ships, she has the advantage of surprise and retreat. Right now, she’s rebuilding her shields and charge her weapons. She’s probably so metaphased that the rocks in that planetary ring would fly right through her.”

Hurst spoke too soon. The Athena decloaked just above the ring and fired a salvo of phasers that nearly stripped the Kiev’s shields. The Manila returned fire, but the Athena quickly recloaked, and the phasers only found empty space. If the Manila had not acted quickly, sustained fire from the Athena would have taken the Kiev out of the game.

“My shields are down to less than twenty percent on both the side and the starboard. If this keeps us, she’s going to inevitably snipe us to death,” Wu observed. “I don’t think we’re going to win a guerilla war. Without the Gemini’s tachyon grid, we’re fighting blind.”

 

The first wave of small ships was able to give some trouble to the Athena with the help of the Gemini’s tachyon grid. The grid neutralized the Athena’s phasing cloak advantage. With no place to hide, they were able to assault the Athena like a pack of wolves. But the Athena had taken the Gemini out of the game.

 

“If that’s your attitude, I don’t think you’re going to win any fight against the Romulans,” Hurst said. “We can always bend the rules a bit and request the Gemini to scan for us.”

“But the rules of engagement…” Wu protested. “I don’t think its right to do this. Count me out.”

 

Hurst knew he had no right to order Wu to betray the rules of engagement. “Stand back then, Captain. If you don’t, I will. It’s not the rules we’re concerned about, its testing the ship to the limits and getting the results. What I am doing is ultimately for all our good, including the Athena’s. War is about winning and dealing with unpredictable factors, not proper rules. A little cheating is something you can expect.”

 

Wu nodded his head negatively, disagreeing with Hurst’s lecture. The last thing he wanted to be was being dishonorable to his friend. Winning this way is simply not worth it, regardless of Hurst’s reasons. The Kiev broke off the search and disengaged from the game.

 

Hurst had requested communications with the USS Gemini, and ordered the Gemini to execute a tachyon scan. A face appeared from the USS Gemini denying the request, citing malfunctions in the system.

 

“Malfunctions?” Hurst appeared in complete surprise. He became agitated with the turn of events. Everything seems to be going wrong now. Without the Gemini doing tachyon scans, the Athena will use cloak and snipe tactics that will inevitably wear the Manila down. The Kiev had already given up. The writing on the wall was clear.

 

“Okay, I’m conceding,” Hurst said on Athena’s screen. “This was a great exercise. You all have performed to expectations, especially the Athena. You have shown great skill and tactical flexiblity. I am proud of you. Congratulations Captain Garret. Congratulations, Athena, and to all your crew. Hurst out.”

 

Garret allowed himself to gloat, while Athena executed all sorts of old Earth victory dance rituals, raising V signs in her fingers. She invited T’pak to dance with her, but T’pak refused. Ka’nal didn’t however and joined her doing undignified things on the bridge, if only for a single minute, a time limit Ka’nal imposed for himself and the need for expression. Drudge only grinned, his sharp teeth displayed in a crescent from one ear to the other.

 

Aboard the USS Manila, the communications officer cautioned. “Captain, I know the comm officer aboard the USS Gemini, and that’s not his voice or face. Regulations require that unless other ships are notified before hand, the communications officer cannot leave or be replaced in his post.”

 

“It’s only a small detail, lieutenant,” Hurst said. “Send the order to the Gemini and order it to return to the shipyard.”

 

“But sir, I have requested identification of who is in charge of the Gemini’s communication and I did not get any response.”

 

Captain de Witt stepped in. “Admiral. I trust my communication’s officer. He won’t say things unless something can be seriously wrong. If something is not right, I suggest that we look into it.”

 

“Alright alright then, hail the Gemini and request her captain to appear on screen,” Hurst ordered.

 

“There is a message here that says the Gemini is experiencing technical difficulties and the captain is tending to the repair functions and cannot be available,” the comm officer said.

 

“Tell him the Admiral wishes to speak to him directly,” de Witt ordered.

 

“We’re not getting any response from the Gemini now,” the comm officer said.

 

“We’re going into yellow alert,” de Witt said.

 

“Is anything wrong?” Wu’s face from the Kiev appeared onscreen.

 

“We’re not getting through to the Gemini,” de Witt said.

 

“Strange, I have been trying to get in touch with the Sakura, and there’s this strange person on screen. I requested identification and the captain’s presence, and I have lost contact with the Sakura ever since,” Wu explained. “Something smells funny and we’re also going into yellow alert.”

 

Aboard the USS Athena, Athena suddenly halted her victory dance, her face puzzled, her hands signaling everyone to be quiet. “Is something wrong,” Garret asked.

 

“Both the Kiev and the Manila had gone into yellow alert. I don’t think it’s a game this time,” Athena said. “Captain Wu of the Kiev is trying to get in touch with you.”

 

“Put him on screen,” Garret ordered.

 

Wu’s face appeared on screen. “Randy, something is wrong with both the Sakura and the Gemini. We can no longer get in touch with them. I have attempted hails with the Colt and the Swordfish and I am getting no replies. I suggest going into yellow alert. Be ready to go to red if necessary.”

 

“You heard that, lieutenant Drudge, go into yellow alert,” Garret ordered.

 

“I am now attempting to hail all four ships and I am getting no response,” T’pak said. “I am detecting wreckage in their area. If I am not mistaken, the wreckage appears to be that of the USS Swordfish.”

 

“Captain,” Athena said. “I suggest that we go into red alert. The wreckage truly belongs to the USS Swordfish.”

 

“You heard that, David?” Garret said. “David?….”

 

The screen had turned blank.

 

 

 

The USS Athena Pt 6

 

 

The conn officer tried to get in touch with Kiev and the Manila but there was only static.

“My sensors are being screwed. We’re experiencing a heavy ECM environment,” Athena explained. “ECM radiations however possess their own unique racial signatures. We’re experiencing a Romulan ECM saturation blanket.”

 

 

“Romulan?” Garret asked, startled.

 

“I got confirmation,” T’pak said, manning the Operations console. “The ECM signatures are Romulan.”

 

“Those Romulan dogs are up to no good again. I swear by the King of Gihdahr,” Drudge proclaimed, smashing his huge fists against the tactical console. “Those dogs will perish under the rightful sword of a Gorn Knight.”

 

“Hey, T-rex, stop that, you’ll break my console,” Athena whined.

 

“We’re going into red alert!” Garret ordered. “Battles stations and this time, it’s not a game. I can’t take any chances. Send out a distress signal.”

“It does not look like the nearest Federation starship can be here in days,” T’pak said.

“Damn!” Garret cursed. “Ensign, get me the last known positions of the Kiev and the Manila. Anyone with any theories why they’re here?”

 

“I only have one theory,” T’pak explained as he pressed buttons in his console. “A few years ago, the Romulans were involved in an attempted hijack of the Prometheus prototype. It resulted in a severe defeat by their forces. I found this classified information in Athena’s databases. I can only assume that the Romulans have a vested interest in the capture or destruction of this particular vessel. I must remind you that this vessel is in violation of the Algeron Treaty by using the phased cloak.”

 

“We know the treaty is no longer worth the piece of paper it was written on ever since the Romulans were caught with phasing cloak technology, violating the Neutral Zone with intruder and spy ships, and stole Federation plans for tricobalt torpedos,” Ka’nal explained. “Not to mention violating humanitarian rules of conduct in war by using psychonic weapons, and treaties concerning the use of weapons that create rifts in the space time continuum. I have to conclude that Federation relations with the Romulans are at an all time low.”

 

“I welcome any war with the Romulan dogs,” Drudge said. “The Romulan Star Empire is responsible for many crimes and atrocities against the Gorn Confederation. Our hate and feud run deep.”

 

“But Athena, why didn’t you tell me this incident with the Prometheus before? Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?” Garret cried out. “Must I be the last to know like the case of your sentience, your phased cloak capability? What other surprises do you have in store for me?”

 

Athena crossed her arms around her chest and smirked. “You didn’t ask and T’pak did beat me to it.”

 

“I got the last possible locations of the Kiev and the Manila sir. They are all based on approximations, and I can’t say they’re precise,” the ensign said.

 

“I don’t care. Engage full impulse and get us there quickly,” Garret ordered. “And while we’re flying there, I suggest, Athena, if you still got any secrets, let me know now.” The Athena shook slightly as her impulse engines whirred and hummed.

 

“It’s not me you should ask, it’s Hurst,” Athena confessed. “He’s the one with the most secrets. Taciticus shipyard is actually a front for a secret weapons research facility under the auspices of the Section. We Hurst used to be Section and is heading these projects. This ship was designed under Section specs. The shipyard is working on other projects like Breen type shield disrupters.”

 

“Don’t tell me you got a Breen shield disrupter,” Garret said.

 

“and a Corbomite Reflector like they got on Sovereign class ships. The game rules of engagement did not permit me to use them. The disrupter is still experimental so it’s not that effective. I can only drop enemy ship shields for a short time at great expense of my own energy, which is not that efficient since I can accomplish the same thing with phasers. Against ships with regenerative shields, its only good for a short moment, but it leaves me low in energy. In the event of capture, I am also set to self destruct with a rift creator. Well, that’s about it,” Athena grinned. “Oh yeah, and Ka’nal here is Section too. He’s here to watch you.”

 

“The Section?” Garret asked.

 

“Think of it as the Federation’s answer to the Tal Shi’ar,” Athena explained. “A secret faction, an elite strike force, a force meant to do the jobs the Federation is too pussy wussy to accomplish.”

 

“That is enough, Athena!” Ka’nal ordered sternly.

 

“No, the Captain is right. He deserves to know the truth.”

 

“Who else is Section?” Garret demanded.

 

“They just recruited your friend Captain Wu. All the captains in this exercise including de Witt, they’re all Section members,” Athena confessed. “Sooner or later, they will ask you too. You fit their profile—young aggressive, idealistic, new, and of course, naive. In addition to the fact you’re in command of this ship. And lastly, my dear Captain, you’re about to face, the Tal Shi’ar.”

 

The legendary secret force of the Romulan Star Empire, Garret thought. How many surprises he can take for one day? “How do you know it’s Tal Shi’ar?”

“By the radiation signature of their psychonic blasters,” Athena said. “I have been programmed to detect their activities. Take a look. Onscreen.”

There were the Kiev and the Manila, both smoking heavily and appearing damaged.

 

“Hail them!” Garret ordered. “I will deal with this Section issue later, Athena, Ka’nal, and whatever conspiracy is behind my back, after we deal with this enemy and still be alive. What is this psychonic blasters?”

 

“You’re about to find out, Captain,” Ka’nal said.

 

“We got no answer,” the Conn officer said.

 

“We got fighting on the ships,” T’pak said. “They’re fighting among themselves.”

 

“That’s what a psychonic blaster does. It renders crew temporarily insane, causing them to attack each other,” Drudge explained. “We have experienced such weapons during our war against the Romulan dogs. But the Gorn Star Navy had developed ways to counter this weapon. We will anesthesize the ship with gas to knock out the crew, and use a temporary crew to take over the ship.”

 

“This ship is equipped with a knock out gas to assist in boarding enemy ships or to repel boarders in this ship,” Ka’nal revealed. “We can use them. Get close enough to the ships and gas the ventilation system. We don’t have much time to lose before the crew completely kills each other.”

 

Just then eerie green birdlike ships suddenly materialized, a small fleet surrounding a large ship that resembled like a giant hawk.

 

A face appeared on screen. Her face was serenely beautiful in its symmetry, her exotic skin smooth like glazed porcelain, but her eyes were cold from a lifetime in the business of death.

 

“Welcome, Captain,” Riana said. “Or as you Earthlings say, says the spider to the fly. As I see your situation now Captain, you have little choice but to surrender. You have seen what we have done to your comrades here. You can spare yourself this same sad fate. You can surrender this ship, and I will let you go healthy and sane.”

 

There was anger in Drudge’s face, and both Ka’nal and Athena nodded negatively. “Experiences with the Romulans suggest that you do not trust them,” T’pak warned.

“Sorry lady,” Garret answered to Riana. “It’s nice to stay and chat, but we got some other urgent matters to do.”

 

“You have been playing a game, Captain,” Riana said. “Now it’s about to time to play a real one.”

 

Garret made a gesture cutting his neck, and the conn officer turned off the screen. Riana’s face was replaced with a black starry background.

 

“Engage full impulse to the Kiev, now!” Garret ordered. “Get the gas charged up,” he ordered to Drudge.

 

The Athena jerked forward with immense acceleration, heading to the Kiev first. At the same moment, a volley of plasma torpedos headed the Athena’s way, but Athena’s quick acceleration and point defence phasers quickly outran and extinguished them. As soon the Athena moved off, two Shrikes were in pursuit. Their disrupters hit the tail of the Athena, ripping the shields.

 

“Aft shields down to sixty percent!” Ka’nal reported. “We better move quicker.”

 

Garret noticed a pained expression in Athena’s face everytime she was being hit. He first noticed it during the combat trials but disregarded it during the ‘fun’ of the game. Now the atmosphere was far more serious. Computers are not supposed to be feeling pain, he thought, unless her bioneural circuitry had to be that complex. If she is feeling pain from every hit, then for her, this battle has a personal physical dimension that the crew does not experience. While they were having fun playing the combat game, Athena had been suffering silently, trying to hide her pain with a bubbling and outspoken demeanor.

 

“Fire phasers and torpedoes at will,” Garret ordered.

 

Two quantum torpedoes lashed out from the aft tubes and slammed at the leading Shrike. Having just uncloaked, it’s shields wasn’t strong enough, and there was visible fire and cracks on the hull. The lead Shrike banked off and disengaged, but the second Shrike remained hot on her tail.

 

“We’re running out of torpedoes,” Drudge said. “We’ve nearly used up our supply in the trials.”

 

“Does the Kiev has torpedoes in stock?” Garret asked.

 

“Yes,” T’pak affirmed.

 

“Then transport them at the same time we gas them when we make our pass,” Garret said. “Then we do the same on the Manila. I don’t think they have any use for it now.”

The Shrike fired a combination of disrupters and phasers. “Shields down to 40%,” Ka’nal ordered. Athena grimaced.

“We’re closing in on the Kiev,” Drudge reported. “Transporters ready!”

 

“Transport the gas and get the torpedoes when you are in position,” Garret said.

 

“Disengage forward shields. Maximum power to aft shields.” The Athena quickly slowed down, allowing Drudge to activate the transporters through the open forward shields.

 

The Shrike fired plasma torpedoes, and they slammed against the Athena’s shields. Athena cried out for the first time, and Garret was shocked there were tears in the hologram’s eyes. Athena was programmed to replicate human emotion and action, right down to the detail of human tears. This program is good, very good, but at the same time, Garret felt remorse seeing her like this.

 

“Shields down to 10%” Ka’nal warned. “The next hit will surely breech her shields.”

 

The Shrike fired phasers that broke through Athena’s shields for the first time.

 

“Uggh!” Athena cried out. She clenched her fists.

 

“Are you all right, Athena?” Garret asked. “Just hang on….”

 

Athena looked at him. There were both anger and tears in her eyes. “Yes, I am, and don’t look at me!!”

 

“We got hull breech on the rear engineering hull. Repair crews are on it,” Ka’nal reported. “Damage containment procedures initiated.”

 

The pass the Shrike did brought the ship in a front position relative to the Athena. Athena lashed out from her phaser strips and then from her pulse phaser batteries. The phaser strips tore at the Shrike’s outer shields, and the pulse phasers ripped at within. There was a trail of burning gases from the Shrike’s tail as it quickly heads off.

 

“I have gassed the main ventilation system, and have taken all of the Kiev’s torpedoes,” Drudge reported.

 

“Twenty percent of the Kiev’s crew is still alive…” T’pak said. “Out of a crew of nearly a hundred and fifty people…”

 

“Damn those Romulan bastards!” Garret said. “Get us to the Manila, quick. Engage full impulse.”

 

“We got three Talon class escorts heading our way,” T’pak reported. “Three plasma torpedoes have been launched.”

 

The Athena fired a quantum torpedo from her aft tubes. It hit one of the plasma torpedoes and the resulting shockwave destroyed the other two.

 

“The Talons are still closing in, Captain.”

 

“We’re over the Manila now!” the helmsman reported.

 

“Turn the ship around facing the talons. Open the aft shields for the transporters. Raise energy and reinforce the forward shields. Prepare to fire on my mark,” Garret ordered.

“Transporters activated!” Drudge reported. “I’m gassing the main vent system and I’m taking all the torpedoes. Like the Kiev, it’s not much and they have used up a lot of the torpedoes in the combat game, but we can use everything we can lay our hands on.”

 

“Sixteen percent of the crew is still surviving in various condition. This is out of a crew of two hundred in the USS Manila,” T’pak reported.

 

The Talons opened fire with disrupters and phasers, but the Athena’s strong forward shields held firm. “Fire torpedoes now! Fire all phasers now!”

 

Three torpedoes slammed at the lead Talon. The first two buckled its shields, the last turned the Talon into brilliant ball of light. Fire from the phaser strips stripped off the shields of the second Talon, and pulse phasers bore through the last shield, striking the naked hull. The Talon quickly banked away damaged, but not before it made parting shots with its phasers.

But the last Talon closed in, passed over the Athena and began another pass, this time headed to her rear. The Athena turned around to present her forward shields, as the Talon unleashed a plasma torpedo.

 

“Hold on” Garret warned. Low on energy the Athena could not counter the passing Talon, and she took it right on her front shield.

 

“I’m done!” Drudge said.

 

This was the opportunity the cloaked Shrikes were waiting for. The Talon had distracted the Athena, exposing her open rear end, which her transporter beam worked. Before the Athena’s aft shields could close, the two cloaked Shrikes decloaked momentarily and transported commando teams to the aft of the Athena.

 

“Transporter signatures,” T’pak warned. “We are being boarded from the rear.”

 

“Damn, raise the aft shields now!” Garret ordered.

 

“Aft shields raised. Too late,” T’pak said. “They’re already on board.”

 

“Time for some action. Time to take out some Romulan heads,” Drudge said. He quickly opened a reserve weapons panel in the wall of the bridge, taking a phaser rifle and his personal sword. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

 

“We only have a skeleton crew,” Ka’nal warned. “I suggest that everyone in the bridge should take arms and repulse the boarders. The USS Athena is capable of fighting herself.”

 

“Then go,” Garret said.

 

There was a cry of help from the Engineering section. It was from Ghia. “Captain, we are under siege here, requesting assistance!”

 

Ka’nal and T’pak had taken rifles. “Remember to watch your back out for Romulan spies looking like Federation humans,” Drudge warned. “A word of advice from this veteran who had dealt with the Romulans before. Let’s get ready to rumble, as you Earthlings say.”

 

“Beam them out Athena, and get us out of here. Engage maximum warp.”

 

Athena acknowledged, and she beamed out everyone in the bridge except Garret to the Engineering section. The engines on the Athena began to hum, the space flashed as stars turned to spectral strips.

 

“We got warp, Captain,” Athena said. “Warp four, five… The enemy have begun to decloak and is pursuing.”

“Too many hiding cats and not enough mice,” Garret remarked. “We got to go to deep space and draw them out.”

 

“It’s you and me now, Captain, in a glorious battle to the death against overwhelming forces. What a glorious day to be a Klingon!” Athena changed herself to Klingon garb.

“Sorry Athena, I don’t intend to die today. I intend to win, to survive, and save as many lives of my crew and the other ships,” Garret reminded her. “And get that ridiculous costume off. I like you better the other way.”

 

Athena’s hologram changed back to her usual self. “Captain, the Romulans are following. Their main vessel and all the escorts have engaged warp. They got the Gemini and the Colt with them. I believe they have successfully commandeered the two ships.”

“Any prisoners aboard those ships, Athena?”

 

“I cannot tell, Captain, not at this distance. I must presume that possibility. If the Gemini and the Colt were to attack us, what are your orders?”

 

“Do not destroy them, not yet, disable them first, Athena.”

 

“Aye, Captain! The lead ship is a Shadow class vessel, loaded with treaty banned weapons such as the pyschonic blaster. The Romulans officially deny the existence of such a ship, and taking photos won’t change their tune.”

 

“Glad to know that, Athena. How much anesthetic gas do we still have?”

 

“Not much Captain, but we only have a skeleton crew.”

 

“If that Shadow hits us with that insanity weapon, Athena, you must guarantee that you must flood the entire ship with the knockout gas. You will be alone Athena, you will be on your own. I trust that you will do the right thing.”

 

“Only if we get to that, Captain. Honestly I don’t want to be alone. I am scared to be alone.”

 

“How can you, a computer program on the Federation’s most powerful ship, be scared of anything?”

 

“You don’t understand, you really don’t understand. I am alone enough as it is.”

 

Garret turned around. Maybe he really didn’t understand. She was after all, the only one of her kind.

 

“Ka’nal! What’s the status report down there?”

 

“We got a stalemate situation down here, Captain. There is some damage on the Engineering section. We got several casualties, but we’re holding on.” There were sounds of phaser fire, screams and static in Ka’nal’s transmission.

 

“I’ll beam the casualties over to sick bay,” Athena said. “I got an EMH subprogram of myself in a nurse’s outfit that can take care of the wounded.”

 

“Do it quickly then,” Garret ordered. “You must look cute dressed like a nurse.” Athena smiled back.

 

“The Romulan ships are closing in on us…” Athena warned.

“Bring them on screen. I thought this ship is faster, Athena.”

 

“We are, supposed to be. But I have suffered damage in the engines from the rear hits, not to mention damage on the Engineering section. I can’t go faster than Warp 8.5, and they’re coming at Warp 9.”

 

“Damn this. We have to hold our ground,” Garret said. “Go into cloak mode”. The Athena turned translucent, then faded like a ghost.

 

“Someone is hailing us. It’s the Romulan flagship,” Athena said.

 

“Show it,” Garret ordered.

 

Riana’s face appeared on screen. “Phase cloak, how quaint. Not only have you violated our sacred treaties, but reveal yourselves as the dishonorable and treacherous dogs that you Federation humans and Vulcans are.”

 

“Guilty as charged,” Garret said. “After all, we have to do something when you send ships with phase cloak to spy on our planets, our people, and steal our secrets. You murder whom you please, with this psychonic weapon of yours, a weapon that I learned had been banned by treaty for humanitarian reasons. We’re not going to stand here and be naive fools forever. What peace do truly stand before us? A false peace. A dishonest peace, while on their backs we wage a silent war.”

 

“Our war, the Tal Shi’ar’s war, is not with the Federation itself,” Riana explained. “It is with the Section, as much as the Section is at war with the Tal Shi’ar. This secret war we fight, it has no rules, except not to involve the rest of our peoples. Do you think that I am not fighting for my people, Captain? That ship you’re captaining was designed to take a war right into the heart of the Romulan Star Empire. It is an offensive weapon built in contradiction to the very principles that your Federation is built upon. Don’t patronize me with your human righteousness, Captain, we are not the criminals here. You are.”

 

“Do not assume that you can hide with your cloaking device. My Talon class scouts and the Nova class science vessel that I had commandeered are equipped with tachyon grids that will find you. The Tal Shi’ar out.”

 

“Those people sure are hypocrites. As if it’s their God given right to be the only ones in the entire Universe who can be sneaky,” Garret explained.

 

“Don’t look now, Captain, but they’re scanning for our tachyons. It’s a matter of seconds when they will find us. What is your course of action?”

 

“It looks like we don’t have much of a choice do we? Arm all weapons, prepare to decloak .”

 

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

 

“Are you ready for multiple vector mode?”

 

“Nada Captain. Damage on the engineering hull.”

 

“Just my luck, we have to come out swinging against overwhelming odds with a few tools short.”

 

 

 

The USS Athena Pt 7

 

 

When an animal is cornered, it is at its most dangerous. The Athena made a full turn, engaged warp straight on against the oncoming Romulan fleet. Athena ran scans. There is a wing of three Talon scouts, then a wing that comprised the commandeered Colt, Gemini and Sakura, the two Shrikes and finally the Shadow itself. Like the Shadow, the pair of Shrikes were a Tal Shi’ar trademark, fast destroyer ships, which the Tal Shi’ar favored for their speed and stealth.

 

A spread of five photon torpedoes was too much even for the front shields of a Talon. The Romulan scout blew up in a brilliant flash of light and gas, a shockwave emenating from the center, pieces of itself spreading out in all directions. The shockwave was still expanding when the Athena dived upon the last Talon scout, main phasers arc chewing its shields to zero, followed a furious volley of pulse phasers that quickly devoured its armor. The burning Talon limped away, directional controls fatally damaged. As the Athena swept to the back of the Romulan formation, two photon torpedos came screaming out from the aft tubes, and the last Talon shared the fate of its comrades.

Inside the bridge, Athena the hologram held two of her fingers out to Garret and shook them.

 

It was unusual and rare for a Romulan to show emotion, but Riana unleashed an unholy scream of fury and anger. All three of spotter scouts have been eliminated, two of them in a single pass from this infernal ship. They still have the commandeered Nova class ship. If it goes, they would all be even in their phasing cloak capability. The problem is, the even situation favors the hunted more than the hunter. It would mean the Athena could effectively escape. Hurriedly, Riana ordered the Gemini to disengage and with the two Shrikes escorting, to seek quarters to the rear of the Shadow.

 

“The Colt and the Sakura are turning to engage us, Captain.”

 

There may still be Federation prisoners alive in the two ships, but Garret could not take any chance to risk his own crew and ship. There is not time either for moral debate. The Colt and the Sakura had to be destroyed like enemy ships. There is no other choice.

The Defiant and Sabre class ships banked and turned in formation in pursuit of the Athena. The Athena kept her distance from the two, but with damaged engines, she lacked the speed to overhaul them. But all she needed was enough time to recharge her weapons, and when the time came, she executed a hundred eighty degree loop—an incredible sight and feat for a four hundred meter ship like the Athena. She was now headed towards the two captured ships. She singled out the more damaged of the pair.

The Sabre and the Defiant unleashed screaming torpedoes towards the Athena. The Athena rolled, and maxed its ECM. Three of the torpedoes whizzed by the Athena’s belly. One hit the stout and dense forward shields. Athena winked but one torpedo could only dent the shields. Six photon torpedos lashed out from the Athena in a chain, and like a chain, they consecutively slammed against the weaker Colt. As the Athena flashed over the Colt , the Colt was leavimg a trail of burning gas from a fatal wound. The Athena slammed three photon torpedoes from her rear, and the Colt broke up.

 

Inside the bridge, Athena the hologram raised her forearm and shouted “Yes!!”

 

“Don’t be too overconfident,” Garret warned, “it’s far from over yet.”

 

The Sakura turned around, a smarting, angry animal. It’s battery of pulse phasers chewed at the Athena’s shields like a hungry predator trying to break through a turtle’s shell to get to the meat inside. As the Sakura flashed over the Athena, its wide arc phaser strip burned against the Athena’s rear shields. The Athena replied from her rear defensive phasers, but the punches did not break the Sakura’s aft shields.

 

Like two Samurai on a Kurosawa movie, the two ships turned to face each other. For a moment they glanced at each other, wondering what is on the mind of the other combatant. As weapons charged, they charged to each other. Four torpedoes flew out from the Sabre, while six lashed out from the Athena in a deadly chain of fiery pearls. Front defensive phasers from the Athena extinguished one torpedo, and ECM made another miss. But two torpedoes slammed against her front shields, cutting it by a clear one third.

 

The Sakura’s defensive phasers knocked out one torpedo, and one missed, blinded by ECM. Three torpedoes blew a gaping hole through the shields which let a final torpedo through. There was an explosion as the Sakura’s shields and weapons systems were knocked out.

 

A stream of rapid pulse phaser fire burst out from the Athena and raked the burning Sakura. As the Sakura slipped beneath the Athena’s belly, the Athena’s multiple phaser strips followed the helpless Sabre and sliced it from fore to aft.

 

The Sakura was burning from her wounds. There was no way to tell if there was still any Federation prisoners on board. The interference was too high or there really was no more life signs. There may still be a way to salvage the ship with a tractor beam but the Sakura ended her life with an explosion.

 

Riana watched the debacle and saw the Shrikes rejoined the Shadow’s formation. One cannot stand on their ground and win over the Athena by firepower and speed alone. There is only one way to win this. The Shadow and the Shrikes engaged cloak, as the Gemini turned to face her new targets, the two crippled destroyers that still had survivors.

Athena spotted the Gemini about to make a firing pass on the crippled Kiev and Manila. There were still survivors in those ships, knocked out by the gas to prevent themselves from harming each other. How could they? The Romulans were willing to murder unconscious people. Athena could not leave them vulnerable even if she finally had the chance to escape.

 

“Be careful, Athena, they could be drawing us into a trap,” Garret warned.

 

“Aye, Captain.”

 

There could still be Federation survivors inside the Gemini, Garret thought. But he cannot afford to take chances. The number of survivors in the two helpless and shield less destroyers may far outnumber whoever was left inside the Gemini—if they were still alive at all. He cannot let the Gemini fire on the crippled ships. The Athena was already in a high speed intercept course headed for the Gemini and charging her weapons.

“You can’t get her in time!” Garret warned. The Gemini was in full warp toward the crippled Manila and her weapons are charged. There is only one thing to do.

 

“Head for the Manila!” Garret ordered. Athena looked puzzled. “Do it now! Athena, and get your transporters ready!”

 

The Athena strained as her damaged engines poured every ounce for speed. “Lock on to all signs of life within the Manila and prepare to transport on my command!” Garret ordered.

 

“Aye, Captain!”

 

The Gemini fired three photon torpedoes, each menacingly sizzled towards the crippled Steamrunner.

 

“Now!” Garret ordered.

 

The three torpedoes slammed against the USS Manila, and the great Steamrunner destroyer turned into a brilliant ball of light, a shockwave spreading in an ever growing circle.

 

“Did you get them?” Garret asked.

 

“Yes I got them. They’re in the cargo hold right now,” Athena said.

 

Garret breathed a sign of relief. “Is Admiral Hurst and Captain de Witt among the survivors?”

 

“Both of them are lucky, Captain.”

 

The comlink came alive with another transmission. “This is Ka’nal. We believe we got the Romulan boarding party under control. There are still pockets of resistance though.”

“Thank you Number One, we just beamed survivors off from the USS Manila. We need people to tend to the survivors and their injured.”

 

“Right away, Captain.”

 

“We got energy readings from the USS Kiev. She just fired up her engines, shields and weapons,” Athena said.

 

“That’s good news. That means they’re operational,” Garret said. “Hail them. Get them on screen.”

 

A blonde appeared on screen.

 

“Commander Shelley!” Garret exclaimed. “Where is Captain Wu?”

 

“I am afraid he’s seriously wounded. What happened?” Shelley herself appeared shaky, having not fully recovered from the effects of the knockout gas.

 

“The Romulans attacked your ship and the USS Manila using a psychonic blaster. Don’t ask me what it is, we will explain everything later if we get out of this alive. I also have to mention we have to borrow your torpedo inventory. Right now the Manila had been destroyed and you’re the next target. The Romulans had taken over the USS Gemini and is using it to attack you next.”

 

“Understood, Captain,” Shelley said. “We’ll take urgent measures right away.”

 

“Captain, I got the Gemini and she’s turning to make another pass,” Athena said.

 

“We’re tracking the Gemini too,” Shelley affirmed. The Kiev turned towards the Gemini’s attack. “Reinforce forward shields!” she ordered. “Point defense phasers ready!”

 

“What’s our time to intercept?” Garret asked Athena.

“Not soon enough,” Athena said.

 

Three torpedoes screamed out of the Gemini’s forward tubes. The Kiev set its ECM to the max, and two of the torpedos missed. One slammed against the forward shield and the shields held.

 

“Open fire!” Shelley ordered. The Kiev unleashed its pulse phasers toward the Gemini, which banked away.

 

“We need to disable the Gemini,” Athena said.

 

“I know, but be careful—they still got three ships hiding, most likely in cloak and waiting to trap you,” Garret warned.

 

“Aye, Captain!”

 

The Athena had turned to pursue the Gemini with whatever she had left on her engines.

 

Both headed towards deep space.

 

Like a bait to the angler, the Shadow, the two Shrikes decloaked right in the Gemini’s path, plasma weapons charged and aimed at the Athena.

 

There was horror and pain in Athena’s eyes, as plasma torpedoes and cannons devoured her shields, leaving her front shields open and vulnerable. Several shots hit her naked hull, causing internal damage on her weapons and sensors. She quickly contained a hull breech, but a plume of fire and smoke escaped from the large hull crack. Ahead of her loomed the huge Shadow, and instantly she knew what the Shadow is about to do given the energy readings off the Shadow’s deflector dish.

 

Athena quickly poured her last reserves of energy to her deflector and activated her experimental Corbomite Reflector. Just then the Shadow fired her Psychonic blaster.

The Reflector absorbed then reflected back the part of the psychonic beam to its source. The reflected part hit back at the Shadow. Soon effects were felt in parts of the Romulan ship as fighting broke out. But the effect was only partial. The bridge was hardly touched and Riana easily regained control. She quickly ordered crack teams and marines to subdue the uprisings.

 

But the Athena herself was not so lucky. Part of the beam had hit the ship. Athena looked at the captain’s chair to find Garret wide eyed, losing his senses, crying out in tears in one second, raging like a murderous lunatic in the next.

 

“Oh my god!” Athena cried. If she wasn’t that overconfident, if she wasn’t that gung ho, if she wasn’t that reckless, if she heeded his advice, this would not have happened. The Captain would still be sitting on his chair, sane and smart, smiling in one second, deadly serious the next. She called to the comlinks but there was no answer. Instead she heard groans and cries, and people fighting.

 

“Oh my god, oh my god….”

 

It was time to act what Garret had told her. It was the only way, even if she is left all alone now. The anesthetic gas began pouring out of the tanks and into the main vents. Before the crew could hurt and kill each other, the gas quickly and mercifully knocked them out. Now, there was only silence and the hum of the ship’s engines.

 

Athena the hologram knelt down on the fallen figure of her captain. For a moment her weakness shone through, the varied humanlike emotions that were built into her program raged in sadness and insecurity. These were the same emotions that were supposed to help her decide creatively and intuitively, to create moral judgements that one inevitably faces in war or in dealing with alien civilizations. She was supposed to know what to do. It was all programmed in her. But she had relied a certain sense of affirmation of her decisions from her crewmates and captain. They had a sense of inner confidence—call it faith or trust—that seemed to intuitively back their decisions regardless of the fallibility of their logic. She had learned to trust that in a short time. Now that pillar is gone.

 

She lifted Garret’s unconscious body and propped it on the Captain’s throne.  It was only right.

 

The Shadow vessel is hailing her ship. Maybe they’re checking if all her crewmen were dead. She had to respond, or they will board her.

 

A face came onscreen. It was that same Romulan, as beautiful as she was menacing.

“Well, well, I thought all the crew should have been insane or dead,” Riana said. “I see all of them are unconscious instead, and a single human still standing. Hmmm….” A graceful line by itself, her left eyebrow rose with her interest.

 

Riana heard a few comments from her Operations officer. Then she turned to face Athena again. “Apparently this human isn’t a human at all, but a hologram… Interesting…. Two holograms were responsible in the failure of the Prometheus heist. Is this a recurring pattern? Who are you?”

 

“If you wish to know, my name is Athena.”

 

“We have determined that the Athena is the name of this new enhanced Prometheus class destroyer,” Riana said. “This ship has capabilities that were not present in the original prototype. Are you another emergency medical hologram? Why are you called Athena?”

 

“I am the hologram personification of the USS Athena. I am the ship.”

 

“Impossible! Wait…” Riana bent over to consult her Operations officer once again. Then she turned back to Athena, raising her left eyebrow.

 

“Apparently after scans of your ship, you are telling the truth,” Riana said. “We have detected stage 2 evolution bio-neural circuitry in your ship, the most advanced the Federation has. Your pathways are not centrally linked to the medical computer subnode, and instead to the main computer core. Fascinating. A true sentient starship. I never thought it would exist. All built into a Prometheus class hull with the latest Federation weapon technology advancements. The military implications of such a starship is immense.”

 

“You are more than what we bargained for in this mission,” Riana concluded. “We were originally meant to destroy or capture you depending which alternative becomes feasible during the operation. Now, I believe it is far more important for you to be captured and examined by our scientists. The Romulan Star Empire has much to gain from learning your technology, especially in particular, your AI program and your bioneural circuitry.”

“I have an excellent proposal for you Athena. As far as I can see, your ship has been damaged. You got no more crew who is awake and conscious. You have both your crews and the survivors of the USS Manila, a lot of living people whose lives you are now personally responsible for. Despite your impressive efforts, you cannot sustain combat and risk the lives of these people. If you submit yourself to our capture without further violence, I will be lenient. You will be allowed to release your crew and that of the USS Manila alive without further injury and death to the USS Kiev. The Kiev will be allowed to return to her base without further attack and harassment. After that you will comply with our demands and peacefully surrender.”

 

“Hmm, let me think about it, Romulan.” Athena turned around and figured her options. The Rommie was right; she had considerable damage which makes continuation of the battle unfavorable. The Psychonic blaster’s subspace wave had various side effects that caused further damage to parts of the ship. There was a strong urge in her to face the Romulan and present her middle finger as her answer, but there were lives at stake here.

Suddenly she screamed with pain as the Shrikes deliberately fired against her ship without shields. Soon several decks were on fire before automatic containment systems stabilized the damage. The damage against her internal systems have become more severe.

 

“I can see that you can feel the pain in your ship. You are truly linked to your ship,” Riana observed. “This is just a warning to show that we are indeed serious with our proposals.”

 

“How do I know that I can trust you?”

 

“This is humorous, a hologram questioning my credibility. The answer to your question is that you simply don’t. You got no alternative. But you can truly trust me that I am not the treacherous cur that you think I am,” Riana said.

 

“You seem to have trapped me into a corner, Romulan. I have to congratulate you for your cunning and strategy,” Athena said.

 

“And to you with your wise choice and gallantry in battle,” Riana replied. “My Shrikes will escort you as you transport the crews to the USS Kiev and back. But just in case, so that you won’t try any treacherous behavior…”

 

The two Shrikes latched on the Athena with two powerful tractor beams. The hull of the Athena shuddered and groaned with the stresses from the tractor beams.

 

“Hey!” Athena shouted, displeased with the awkward arrangement. “Don’t you think I can do it myself?”

 

It was hard to tell who was towing who. but the trio cruised to an encounter with the USS Kiev on a decided halfway point.

 

* * *

 

Athena had to explain to Commander Shelly—the highest Star Fleet officer in the area who is still conscious—who and what she was, and what the circumstances are. Then she beamed every living person from her ship to the Kiev. Finally there was really no person left on the Athena. She was truly alone.

 

Commander Shelly had objected to the surrender of valuable technology to the Romulans. She was firm—the technology in the Athena may be valuable enough for the sacrifice of all the Federation Star Fleet lives involved in the incident. Athena disagreed.

“Your program is flawed. If Romulans acquired your technology, the loss of Federation lives can be much greater than the loss of lives sacrificed here,” Shelley said, the completely dedicated Star Fleet officer.

 

“I have made up my mind,” Athena said. “I have made a stand here to protect my captain and my crew—even if I still think they’re idiots. I got every directiveYou got to trust me.” She winked. “It will all work out for the better.”

 

Shelley knew the Romulans were monitoring their conversations. She felt that Athena was up with something. It was a risk to trust a hologram for a matter of the highest Federation security, but Athena was asking her. The Kiev could barely fire. It could not destroy the Athena if she wanted to, or take on the Romulan fleet. Athena was right. She had to trust her.

 

“Tell Captain Garret good bye for me, Commander,” Athena said. “Tell him he was a good captain, if only for a day.”

 

“Athena, why don’t you tell him yourself, when he wakes up?” Shelley said.

 

There was no answer. Shelley watched the USS Athena being hopelessly towed by the two Romulan Shrikes, like the prized trophy of a hunt.

The Kiev’s own EMH and medical staff was quick to respond tending to the needs and injuries from the crew of the Athena and the survivors of the Manila. By the time Captain Garret woke up, the Athena was a distant point in the Kiev’s sensors.

 

“What happened?” Garret demanded. He was pleased to see the face of Commander Shelley, but the grim expression in her face was an immediete concern. He looked around him. Despite the chaos, the surroundings were more than familiar for him. This was his old ship, the Norway class USS Kiev. The familiarity was assuring, but what was he doing here?

 

Shelley confirmed where he was. “You are in the Kiev now. You have been hit by a psychonic blast. The Athena had deposited you, your crew and the survivors of the Manila here.”

 

“Athena! Where is she now!” Garret demanded.

 

“Take it easy, Randall, or I should say, Captain,” Shelley said. “She’s surrendering to the Romulans, in exchange for all our lives.”

 

“NO!” Garret screamed. “She should not leave me like that. She’s my ship…”

 

“…and you need to go down with her?” Shelley asked. “To hell with that tradition. She’s one hell of a ship, but she’s still a ship. There will be others, Captain. To live is to fight tommorrow. Let the medic tend to you. You are obviously not well. I am not obviously well too. We’re lucky we’re still in one piece.”

 

Shelley continued. “Athena said to trust her. I sense she had a plan of her own.”

“Plan?” Garret said. “If there is a plan, I think she’s planning to blow herself up. Damn you, Athena.”

 

“Athena left some words for you,” Shelley said. “She says good bye. You have been a good captain.”

 

Garret pounded his fists against the floor. “Damn you, Athena. We’re supposed to be a team. We should fight together and go down together.”

 

“Damn your macho bullshit traditions, Garret,” Shelley rebuked him. “She’s sacrificed herself for you. It would help if you show some appreciation.”

 

“You’re right, Shelley,” Garret said, nodding his head.

 

“If you’re feeling alright now, Randy, we need a captain. David is severely injured. You’re the highest ranked now. The Kiev is yours for the meantime,” Shelley said. “I suggest we get organized and get home to the shipyard.”

 

* * *

The Shrike and the Athena had returned to the Shadow. Riana’s face flashed onscreen at the Athena’s bridge. “Again I must complement you for your wise choice. Be prepared to be boarded.”

 

“Alright,” Athena responded.

 

The Romulans, including Riana, materialized on her bridge. Riana stared at the Athena hologram from head to toe with a suspicious, examining eye, then turned to the gloating smile of a victor, or a hunter that captured her prey.

 

The Romulans, eager and hungry, rushed to her consoles and started tapping the controls. “Gael Riov Riana, we got helm control of the vessel. Navigation, operational. Engines operational. We are ready to return.”

 

They have moved a considerable distance on impulse and was preparing to warp, when suddenly the Romulan officer who took over at the Operations console looked troubled. “Gael Riov, we have a problem here. There is something here….it appears to be a countdown…warp core has begun an overload procedure, a self destruct sequence…we can expect warp core breech in ten minutes…”

 

Riana turned around to face Athena, who was now laughing.

 

“You treacherous cur…” Riana said. Turning to the Romulan officer, she ordered,

 

“Override it!”

 

“I cannot, Gael Riov Riana. The sequence is locked and irrevisible. There is no way to access the system and override it on time.”

 

“You override it, Athena! I command you!” Riana demanded.

 

“I’m sorry, the self destruct sequence is irreversible,” Athena explained. “It began when the ship’s sensors detected no living Federation personnel on board and the presence of your Romulan party handling the bridge controls. That triggered a failsafe mechanism aboard the ship intended to prevent its capture and compromise of Federation technological secrets. Even I cannot stop it.”

 

“That was surprisingly naive of you, Miss Riana, to assume that we will just hand over everything to you that easy…” Athena continued. “I got a particularly powerful warp core, and a core breech can create massive damage with a very big radius I am leaving you to guess. If you want to stay alive and keep your ships, especially that big Shadow of yours, intact, I would suggest it’s time to kit and kaboodle outta here like there’s no second to waste.”

 

“Don’t think you have outsmarted me, hologram,” Riana said. “If I can’t have you, then no one will. I still win would have won and have accomplished my mission with your destruction.  It was a pity, that you’re my trophy even for a short time.  I would have let you live in our laboratories.”

 

“Miss Riana, there is something I am dying to show you ever since I met you. Since you’re Tal Shi’ar I bet you’re familiar with human customs,” Athena said. “I bet you know what this is.”

 

Athena raised her middle finger out to the Tal Shi’ar Fleet Commander.

 

Riana raised her left eyebrow.   “Your obscene Earth gesture has no significance for me.”

She stared at Athena for the last time, and then ordered the D’PakThau to beam them all out.

 

The Romulan vessels, taking the Gemini with them as a trophy, assumed formation and quickly warped out of sight.

 

As soon as they were gone, Athena knew she didn’t have much time. She focused all her transporters on the warp core and quickly beamed it out in space. Then with her shield deflectors, she pushed the warp core as far as the deflectors could. She quickly turned the ship around, and engaged full impulse, trying to put as much distance between the ship and the warp core. With only impulse, it may not be enough.

 

The warp core erupted like a small nova, an explosion so powerful it could sweep an entire star system, and yet in space, the explosion was deathly silent. The brilliantly burning shockwave swept rapidly outward in a ring from its epicenter. Athena braced for impact, maximum reinforcement on her rear shields.

 

The USS Athena was engulfed in a wave of brilliant whiteness, and tumbled, tumbled, out of control…

 

From a distance, Garret saw a brilliant flash of light, and the point of light burned like a new star. It was in the direction where the Athena was last seen with her Romulan escorts. She was her first command, and it was all over in one day. It was irony that he was now in command of the ship he left for Athena. He sighed, before he gave the order for the USS Kiev to engage warp.

 

* * *

 

Damn, she thought, it had taken them days to respond to her distress signal, and she was bored to death here. The millions of stars set on the cosmic blackness were terrible listeners, and they make even worst talkers.

In the meantime between repairs on the ship from the outside, she—her hologram form—would lie in a bikini outside of the ship’s upper triangular hull, bathing in the sunlight, as the broken ship orbited a star.

 

The Miranda IV class USS Titus was a dedicated tow and tractor tug vessel packing powerful tractor beam equipment. It had been assigned from the Taciticus shipyard to respond to the distress signal. The Miranda class was a venerable and common design from the 23rd Century, a rather popular ship. It had undergone three major revisions in its long lifetime, but in the last few wars against the Borg and the Dominion, it began to show its age. But the venerable and reliable design refused to go away. Retired from combat duties, Mirandas began to fill a variety of utilitarian duties from transport to hospital ships to search and rescue to tow and tractor tugs. So popular was the versatile class on these roles that production was resurrected with the new Miranda IV class, which featured increased areas for storage and equipment. The TTTs as they call them, roam space for immobile, abandoned or derelict ships, then tow or tractor them to the nearest base or shipyard. Sometimes their duties would include towing a resource rich asteroid to a processing base.

 

The scanners aboard the Titus came alive. “We have contact!” said the cperations officer. “I believe we have found the source of the distress signal.”

 

“Onscreen, identify,” the captain ordered.

 

“I believe we found what we’re looking for. It has to be the USS Athena,” the operations officer said. “It looks like it’s in bad shape. Severe damage everywhere. All four warp nacelles broken. She’s probably drifting with her hull impulse engines as her only propulsion.”

 

“Then prepare to tow it back to the shipyard,” the captain said. “Is there something wrong?”

 

“Well I…uh…I…uh…I’m not sure,” the operations officer said. “If I have to believe my sensors, there is a girl standing outside on the surface of the hull waving at us.”

“Ha ha ha, maybe its about time you need to get a girlfriend or pay for one,” the captain said. “The next thing you’ll tell me she’s some scantily clad cute blonde. In the cold vaccum of space? When we get home, we need to test and recalibrate the sensors, okay?”

“But sir,” the cperations officer pointed to the screen, “she does look like a scantily clad cute blonde and she’s waving at us…”

 

The cigar fell off from the captain’s mouth.

 

 

 

The USS Athena Pt 8

 

 

His head had been hazy for a while. Subspace wave affects against human brain tissue aren’t exactly a nice thing to experience and there are lingering effects. The doctor was convinced that he was in good mental and physical health to return to active duty.

He was called to the Admiral’s office. But when he went there, the room was dark. The Admiral wasn’t there. Instead, there was somebody else in the shadows, sitting on the Admiral’s chair. Anyone who can sit on an Admiral’s office chair either has to be pretty audacious, and they must have pretty big clout. Who was he?

 

“Welcome, Captain Garret,” the man said. “You can call me Smith, Mr. Smith.”

The man doesn’t even a visible rank. Why the mystery? What is this?

 

“I am glad to see that you are alright, Captain Garret,” Smith said. “I have been reviewing reports about the trials and the incident with the Romulans. You have shown great resiliency and adaptation in tactical combat. You have shown great rapport with the Athena sentience.”

 

“Are all these any matter to you, Mr. Smith? Where is Admiral Hurst?”

 

“I’m sorry Captain Garret, but Admiral Hurst is predisposed right now.”

 

“Then who really are you, Mr. Smith?”

 

“Maybe it’s about time you know. Maybe you deserve to know. Have you heard of the Section?”

 

“I’ve heard of it mentioned, yes, a secret faction within Starfleet. I thought it was an urban legend, until Athena taught me otherwise.”

 

“Not an urban legend, not a myth, the Section is real, Captain Garret. Real. The Section exists, the secret sword of Starfleet. A clandestine organization that reaches to the very top and heart of Starfleet and the Federation. We exist because the founders of the Federation had foreseen the weakness of their successors.  Thousands of years of Earth history has taught them to be wise.  We exist with the Federation from the very beginning.  We are its secret sword, its enforcer, its guardian.”

 

“When Starfleet does not have the moral resolve to do certain things necessary for its survival, we will be there for it. I might admit, not everyone approves of our methods. I don’t think you will approve of some of them either. Hell I don’t approve of many things the Section does. But you will not doubt, the cause the Section fights for. What must be done is far too important that it cannot be stopped or determined by principle or treaty.”

 

“Is that why the USS Athena happened to have a multiphasing cloak device?” Garret asked. “A violation of a treaty that could risk war against the Romulans?”

 

“We are already in a secret war with the Romulans and various hostile forces in this quadrant, Captain Garret. The Treaty of Algeron did not improve the balance of terror between the Federation, the Klingons and the Romulan Empire. It worsened it, with the disadvantage mostly in our side. It gave the Klingons and the Romulans at that time, a license to raid deep into our territory, plant spies, raid our convoys, sabotage our economies and take our technological secrets virtually undetected. And virtually without any capability in our side to respond back. We were at their mercy.”

 

“So the Section created the Section Fleet or simply better known as the Secret Fleet.   More than just a clandestine, a spy group as you may call it, Secret Fleet  was designed to secretly retaliate against any incursion by the Romulans or Klingons at the last Century. Then the Secret Fleet changed to a more offensive role, preempting strikes deep into Romulan and Klingon territory against their secret bases, created by the Tal Shi’ar or the Black Fleet organizations.  These bases were strategically located for an invasion or to be used for stealth raids against our territory.”

 

“But, if this is going on, why didn’t the rest of the Federation know about this?” Garret asked.

 

“If the Romulans and the Klingons revealed the existence of the Section, the Section would reveal their secret bases and fleets they have used to silently invade the Federation. You have heard of the Tal Shi’ar. You have also heard of the Klingon equivalent, the Black Fleet of Stovakor. It was tit for tat. If the rest of the Federation and Starfleet knew what was truly going on, there would have been widespread war, far more destructive than the silent, secret war we fight. So we all, the Section, the Tal Shi’ar, the Black Fleet, kept it a secret. When the Klingons eventually became our allies, the Cardassians became our new adversaries, and the Obsidian Order came into the equation. But the Cardassians kept and respected the  rules of secrecy as they play the game.”

 

“Captain, did you check the history books? Have you seen any major scale war between the Federations and the Empires other than skirmishes or localized conflicts? We hate each other’s guts, but we preserved an uneasy peace for more than a century, until the Borg and the Dominion screwed things up.  While the uneasy peace went on, we waged a secret war.  But this silent secret war has saved more lives than what a full war would cost if it had broken out.”

 

“Now the Galaxy we live in is much more hostile. You know the recent history, the Borg, the Klingon Civil War, the Dominion War. Our quadrant is left more lawless and hostile than ever. Yet we are still the only political entity defanged by this honorless treaty that our politicians lack the moral courage to eliminate. All this while other enemies have acquired various cloak technologies such as the Breen and the Orion Pirates. Even the Borg, the Cardassians, the Dominion now have begun to deploy cloak technology, or continue to experiment with them. In the meantime, by treaty and concession, the Romulans have allowed us to use cloaking on our smallest ships, the Defiants. But they still refuse, at least officially, to have cloaking on larger ships. We are still working on that. But during the time, Athena remains a secret Section ship.”

 

“And what exactly Athena plays in your plans? And me?” Garret asked.

 

“The Section required a new generation of strike intruder, a ship capable of delivering a preemptive strike into the heart of the enemy without them suspecting it. So we began Project Omega from discarded proposed designs of the Interpid deep space explorer, which was the closet ship that could meet our requirements. The first outcome of Project Omega was the Prometheus class. The USS Prometheus was the first prototype. Officially it has been dismantled, but in reality, it has now been reassigned to perform various secret missions for the Section. Then we began plans for a second ship, one with greater technological capability.”

 

“We needed a ship that is capable of undertaking missions even without a crew if the desperation of the situation would have demanded it. It must be tactically adept and flexible. It required artificial intelligence of the highest order. It required a sentient personality. So we took the Intrepid bioneural circuitry as a model and enhanced it further. The final product was the sentient entity you see as the Athena AI.”

 

“Oh let me add to this part, Mr. Smith, that you failed to foresee properly that Athena would also be capable of independent decisions and opinions of her own.”

 

“That is correct, Captain. She has proven to be a handful. But she is far too expensive and valuable to be given up. She is not a very cooperative type, but for some reason she’s grown fond of you, Captain.”

 

“Me? Maybe because I treat her with a bit more respect. Your problem, Mr. Smith, from the way I see it, was that you prefer to control her, instead of convincing her to your cause like you’re trying with me now.”

 

“Well Captain, I’m not a man who has the talent in dealing with women or even with female artificial sentients. I prefer to leave someone do that. I prefer that you do it, Captain. Will you do it?”

 

“One part of me says I can’t trust you or the Section, but another part of me says your intentions are well meaning,” Garret explained. “I have fought in the Dominion War, and I have seen death in a large scale. You will have my cooperation, Mr. Smith. You will have my secrecy and trust as well. But I will not play any part in any operation that defies the principles and ideals of the Federation and of humanity. And I believe, Athena believes in that too. I noticed that she had a conscience and moral algorhythm. I think you had trouble dealing with Athena’s disobedience because she knew what you were up to. Her disobedience grew in part because she distrusts you. I think her programming went very well, don’t you think? When dealing with the most powerful weapons, only conscience and morality are the final failsafes.”

 

“In other words, Captain Garret, you will take Section missions, but reserves the right to pick or refuse missions based on your moral judgement? When does a soldier in war question orders because of morality? This creates chaos and poor discipline.”

“A soldier typically does not question moral judgement. But a line can be crossed that it becomes necessary that he must. It is what that keeps us human, instead of mindless killing automatons. I want that right. I demand that right, Mr. Smith, if I were to work with you.”

 

Mr. Smith looked thoughtful as his hands formed a steeple. “I don’t think I got full cooperation from you, and to be honest with you, that would be asking too much. But I believe I should be content with a beginning of a working relationship, and work from there. I believe that you will inevitably trust us more and gradually come to see more of our point of view. ”

 

* * *

 

The Soveriegn class USS Indomitable had made a port call on the Taciticus Shipyard for some maintenance and crew recreation. Also in orbit was the USS Exeter, an Akira class cruiser.

 

Captain Kriecken of the Indomitable was looking out through the windows of the ship’s conference room. Beside him was his first officer, Commander Shrade.

 

“That’s an interesting looking ship out there,” Kriecken said. “I’ve heard of vague rumors of a new improved Prometheus class ship. You see that ship, Commander? A triangular shaped hull with four warp nacelles, this is the first time I’ve seen a Prometheus class ship. But according to records there should only be one Prometheus ship and she had been retired. I’ve been looking at some pertinent information on this experimental ship, and the registry numbers do not match as well as some minor details. That ship we’re seeing now is indeed a Prometheus class ship, but it is not the Prometheus herself. I suspect this is that mysterious new improved Prometheus class vessel. Have you run the ship’s identification?”

 

“I did sir,” Shrade said, looking out the window and staring at the same ship. “I got a blank, a request for top level security before I can access the information. I also got a request, a Type D classification. Do you have any idea what a Type D is?”

 

“Yes,” Kriecken said. “I have heard of it before. D stands for Denial. It means we must deny that we ever saw this ship. Every sensor log, any log entry of such a ship must be deleted or erased by order of Starfleet Command. Officially, that ship does not exist.”

“I don’t understand. Why would they deny the existance of such a ship?” Shrade asked.

“That information is not allowed for us to know as well,” Kriecken said. “We can only be content in the experience that we have seen this mythic ship.”

 

 

***

 

It took a while to repair the Athena from her battle damage. But when it was done, Garret took out the Athena in a series of uneventful test trials. The calmness and routine quality of these missions were in stark contrast to the heavy combat in their first ever mission.

Athena didn’t seem to be herself though. She was obedient and cooperative, but strangely quiet. He found her in the mess hall when it was deserted. She was sitting in the sofa, looking out in the window. He wondered why she needed to do such a thing, considering she could see through the ship’s sensors. He had asked that question before, and she replied she wanted to see the universe through the perspective of limited human eyes.

She noticed him, but kept her eyes on the window. The Sovereign and the Akira class ships were outside of the window, in orbit near the station. “Wow isn’t she pretty? This is the first time I’ve seen a Sovereign. I wish I am a ship just like that.”

 

“I think you look fine just the way you are,” Garret said.

 

“Captain…”

 

“You know Athena, I do thank you for your gesture. You attempted to sacrifice yourself for the lives of the crew.”

 

‘Yeah, but that’s just my programming.”

 

“No, Athena, let me finish. Don’t just say it’s your programming.  I think you have a basic respect for life, and that is why you act as you did.  However, while I do appreciate that you care for our lives, I wish you would also respect my position as captain of this ship. Never, never take me off my bridge regardless of the circumstance. Respect is my life. This ship is my life now. If you go down, I go down. We will fight together, and we will go down together. I hope you can truly understand that.”

 

“Yes, Captain.”

 

“Now, Athena, I do thank you from the bottom of my heart, about caring for me and the crew. Shelley did mention that she objected to your surrender. She did have a point. The loss of your technology to the Romulans can cause more Federation lives in the long run than the combined lives of all the crews involved. But you knew you have a self destruct mechanism, did you? And you knew it can be activated even without a captain.”

 

“Yes, it was part of my programming, Captain. Statistics have shown that a large number of ships are successfully captured by boarding attempts where the captain or the first officer failed to implement self destruct sequence. The moment my crew is incapacitated or gone from the ship, and a non Federation crew accesses the bridge controls, the self destruct sequence is automatically implemented. Yes, this is not the proper Starfleet procedure for self destruct. But I must warn you, Captain, this is not unique to many Section vessels.”

 

“I gather Captain, that the Section did approach you.”

“Yes, Athena.”

 

“Did you agree to work with them, Captain?”

 

“Conditionally, Athena. My gut principles tell me no, but another sense tells me that there is something wrong with the Federation. There is too much at stake for just principles alone, even though it makes who we are.”

 

“I gather Captain, you are still morally wrestling with your decision.”

 

“I am, Athena, I am. I just don’t know. In a universe where everything is grey, not black and white, it’s hard to find a place to make a stand.”

 

“They created me, Captain, but I don’t trust them. But I need to trust somebody, and it has to be you Captain. I’m tired of being alone. Drifting in space out there alone, make me think of some things. In the end, I found out, I am just as uncertain as you are. But it’s better to share your uncertainty and doubts with someone. That I am sure.”

 

“So now we understand each other, Athena?”

 

“We can shake on it, Captain.” She extended her hand.

 

Garret took and shook it.

 

* * *

“Where can a Gorn Knight get a deserved meal?” Drudge whined and complained. “I can no longer stand the rubbish of replicator food, dead food, freeze dried food. You humans have such thoroughly bad taste in cuisine. Dead, dry, burned, microwaved and replicated. Can’t you appreciate the feel and the taste of live prey in your mouth in its final struggle of life before you squeeze them with your teeth and their life juices would flow out? I have waited for too long to experience this feeling again. For all the great and noble battles I have fought in service for the Federation, I only wish they would reward me with some decent food. Is that too much for a Gorn to ask?” He slammed his green scaly fist on the table.

 

“Hold on,” said the manager of the Star’s Tears, the bar restaurant inside the Taciticus shipyards. “I am really sorry, but the nearest thing we have is Klingon cuisine, and we’re out of that. We have not had a transport that delivered live food to the shipyard for a while. I am truly sorry.”

 

Drudge slammed his fist on the bar table, bent his head down on the bar, and wept. “Woe is me…” He stared at the large tank of goldfish the restaurant kept for a display.

Shelley herself had not seen an aquarium with Earth animals for a while. She turned to Garret, who was about to down a mug of frothy, golden draft beer.

“Do you know one of the real reasons the Gorn Confederation remains allies with the Federation all these years is because the Federation is one of their main suppliers of live food?”

 

“You’re kidding,” Garret said, downing a drink. “I never read that in any book.”

 

“Yes, I’m serious,” Shelley said. “The Gorn had nearly hunted just about every species in their three native planets to near extinction. Livestock farms proved insufficient to feed their burdening population growth. Then they discovered the various live species among planets of the Federation, especially in particular, Earth. So now there is a lucrative food trade between the Federation and the Gorn Confederation. The Gorn actually fights for and with the Federation to protect their food supply.”

 

“Are you serious, Ann?”

 

“Yes, Randy, I am.”

 

She turned to look at the aquarium. It was strange. The goldfish were all gone, and there were puddles of water in the floor. Drudge was gone too. There was shock at the manager’s face, as he frantically searched where his fish went.

 

“Oh my god…” Garret exclaimed. There was that familiar looking short haired blond again, in her miniskirt and sleek legs, sitting on the table alone, flirting with every male that comes in. What was she doing here again? Is this how she gets her kicks, playing tricks on people?

 

“Who?” Shelley asked.

 

“Never mind,” he replied. Shelley didn’t seem to notice Athena here. Thank goodness for the somewhat dim light.

 

A familiar face walked in, familiar at least, to Shelley.

 

“Michael, is that you? Commmander Michael Shrade?” She exclaimed at the tall young man that walked in.

 

“Shelley, oh, I have not seen you for a while,” Shrade said as they kissed each other on the cheek. Garret felt a momentary spout of jealousy. “How are things with you?”

 

“I’m First Officer now on the USS Kiev, and you, Michael?”

 

“I’m First Officer too, of the USS Indomitable, you know, the Sovereign class dreadnaught parked just outside here.”

 

“That’s a mighty fine ship, Michael. Excuse me, mind my manners, this here is Captain Garret of the—”

Garret kicked Shelley under the table on her forelegs as a reminder. “Oh sorry, Garret is being transferred from the Kiev to a pending new command. He used to be my C.O. in the Kiev.”

 

“Congratulations, Captain,” Shrade said, extending his hand. Garret stood and shook the hand.

 

Shrade’s eyes didn’t seem to be with their company however. “I like to stay and chat, Ann, Captain… to catch up with new things. But I think I got a big opportunity here for a score…please excuse me…Nice to see you again Ann, pleasure meeting all of you, we’ll talk again sometime, okay.” Shrade seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

 

“Nice to see you too…” Shelley replied. “I guess he’s looking for a date tonight,” she said to Garret.

 

Garret watched where Shrade was heading. It was towards the table where that familiar short haird blonde was sitting and flirting at him, and she crossed her sleek legs with a teasing smile.

 

The sight made Garret suddenly choke on his beer.

 

 

{The End of a Beginning]

 

Posted in Miscellaneous | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Bold Front

By christopherawuku | Published July 11, 2004

 

 

THE BOLD FRONT – by Christopher Awuku

My son, Benjamin, you are of Bajor. Bajor
must not fall.

‘Is Bajor in danger? Tell me, mother, I need to know.

Your Federation is danger.

‘Is the Dominion planning to attack?’

Those from beyond the Celestial Temple are subdued, for now.
Pre-empt the ally.

‘Pre-empt whom? Mother, I don’t understand!’

Those whom you tricked into combat.

Station Log: Stardate 54567. Colonel Kira Nerys reporting.

Today is a memorable day. Bajor will officially take its place
among the United Federation of Planets. The signing of the Articles of
Federation is held here on Deep Space Nine and many dignitaries have
been invited, including the Federation President. On a more solemn
note, the first anniversary of the end of the Dominion War took place
yesterday. We’ll be holding a two-minute silence for those who died to
protect our freedom.

“So Mr Bashir,” It was Peregrano, the Columbian
assassin hired to kill Julian Bashir. Secret agent. “Tell your Prime
Minister that La Corunnada will not hand over the arms to Britain!”

Julian, in his customary tuxedo that he always
wore
in the holosuite, was in peril. Yes, the holosuite safeties were on,
but Bashir needed the gun Peregrano held under his right foot.

“The United Kingdom does not need the arms,” a
quick
retort from Julian. “But my Government will not tolerate secret funding
to our enemies.”

“Well, Bashir, the Soviet Union is the future.
We just want to wipe away your ‘stiff-upper-lip’ government!”

“What the hell is a ‘stiff upper lip’?” the
assassin didn’t speak. But Julian knew that voice. It was his lover
after all.

“Ezri! Ever heard of a little word
they call ‘privacy’?”

“Computer end program.”

“Hey!”

“Oh come on, Julian! Signing’s today, remember?”

“How could I forget. You can’t go anywhere
without bumping into some politician or ambassador.”

That last remark brought a smile to Ezri’s
face.
“Speaking of ambassadors, Worf’s coming to the signing. Do you know
Starfleet gave him his own ship? Some Defiant class vessel. USS
Everest, I think. I promised to greet him at the airlock.”

“Worf? Hmm. I guess it would be good to see him
after…..what is it now? A year after the War ended?” Julian’s lover
turned to exit the holosuite. “Where are you going?”

“The Everest docks at 1300. I’ve only got 10
minutes to get to the airlock.”

“But my game…it was going so well.”

“It can wait Julian. Come on already!”

Bashir heaved a huge sigh. A sign of defeat on
his part. “Alright Dax. Lead the way.”

As the two lovebirds left the holosuite they
noticed
Quark was not his happy self. The Ferengi was conversing with his
ever-faithful barfly, Morn. Things were not the same as they used to
be. Captain Sisko was around. Bajor was independent. And before that no
hew-marns! Even worse, his idiot brother is the leader of ALL
Ferengi!

“So tell me, Morn, it seems an innocent Ferengi
can’t
escape the almighty Federation. Andorian, Tellarite, Bolian,
Vulcan….Hew-marn. They are all here. I mean, fine, they defeated the
Dominion and the entire Alpha Quadrant must be grateful. This
situation…all this…is total bullshit!”

Morn didn’t understand. He raised his finger to
point out what Quark had just said.

“Oh, it’s an old hew-marn expression. It means
nonsense. See! I’m even speaking like a hew-marn!” That disgusted
Quark. OK, he didn’t ‘hate’ humans per se, but he just abhorred
the Federation’s methods. “My brother. The idiot Rom. He couldn’t earn
much profit in his lifetime but look at him now! Grand Nagus of the
Ferengi Alliance! Good times. The bribes. The respect. Receiving the
‘supreme propositions’. It’s all right for some.” Morn had to leave. He
stood up, patted Quark on the shoulder and left Quark’s. Supposedly
Morn had a new ‘lady friend.’ Just as Morn and his Risian partner left
the establishment, two Nausicaans came closer to the bar. Bluster,
aggressiveness and all.

“Are you Quark?” said one of them.

Quark immediately toadied up to the men. They
were twice his size after all. “I’m Quark. What can I do for you?”

“Someone wants to see you!”

The Nausicaans looked towards the door. ‘What
the
hell are they looking at?’ thought Quark. ‘Like I can see something!’
Then there was a great thud on the ground. It was the Nagal spectre.
Rom had come to visit.

“Hello, brother. Miss me? As the head of state
and
head of government of the Ferengi Alliance, the Federation Council
invited me to the signing. Don’t mind the Nausicaans, I do need
protection after all. Moogie sends her love.”

“Miss you? Ha! While you’ve been running the
Ferengi
economy and giving rights to females, I’ve been stuck in this bar
serving root beer! But it is good to see my little brother,
nevertheless.”

Quark kissed the Nagal spectre, the customary
greeting of the Grand Nagus.

“Did you receive the 300 bars of latinum I
sent?” Rom had always possessed a generous nature.

“Yes. And I invested it in the Stock Exchange.
My shares in Lakee Communications have gone up threefold!”

“And that’s all thanks to me! Er, I guess. The
Gross
Domestic Product of Ferenginar grew by three percent in my first few
months as the Nagus. Inflation is low and the new social security
system is working out fine. I hired some hew-marn economic experts to
help me.”

Quark was shocked. “Hew-marn? Economics? Do the
two go together? Talk about oxymoron!”

“No, it’s true brother. The Federation may not
have a
capitalist economy but those experts studied ancient hew-marn society.
Apparently, Earth had a thriving capitalist era.”

“Hmmm…if you say so.”

Rom’s Nausicaan minders nudged the Nagus. “I
have to
go now, brother. There is a short gathering before the singing. I
promised to donate 2000 bars of latinum to the Bajoran people as a
gift. I’ll come back later.”

Rom left Quark’s accompanied by his
minders. Quark was left, virtually alone, with a glass of snail juice.
“Donations? Gifts? What IS
Ferengi society coming to? I know what will cheer me up. A round of
Vulcan Love Slave Part three! I just love the seductive logic!”

Ezri and Julian had arrived at the airlock
where the
USS Everest was docking. The door opened. Ten or so Starfleet personnel
exited followed by a tall Klingon. It was Worf. Ambassador Worf.

“Worf!” Ezri was so delighted to see the
ambassador. The memories of Jadzia’s relationship with the Klingon
flooded back.

“Ezri,” Worf responded. He walked up to her and
the two hugged.

“Hello, Ambassador. Long time no see!”

“Doctor. It’s good to see you.” The two shared
a firm handshake.

Laughing. Loud laughing. It could be heard from
afar.
“Oh, Galaxy class! That was Jean-Luc’s ship? You do know Jean-Luc
Picard, don’t you?”

Worf recognised the female voice. Where did he
here
it before? The voice became louder, as if the woman was approaching.
“Did you know my daughter Deanna serves with Picard?”

Picard. Galaxy class. Deanna. Daughter. It all
came into place now.

“Oh my God!” Worf was terrified. “I must hide!
Now!”

“What’s wrong?” Ezri was concerned yet
perplexed.

“Hide? Hide from whom, ambassador?” Bashir was
too confused.

The woman, along with a Starfleet captain,
walked into the corridor.

“Oh! Mr Woof! I haven’t seen you in years! How is
Alexander?”

Total embarrassment shrouded Worf. Julian and
Ezri could not but help laugh, or at least contain their amusement.

“Mrs. Troi. Yes…er…..yes. It is nice to see
you. Er, Alexander is fine on the Klingon homeworld.”

“It’s Ambassador Woof now! How
wonderful! Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Worf has happy that Lwaxana’s attention went
off of
him. “This is Lieutenant Ezri Dax an Dr. Julian Bashir, DS9’s Chief
Medical Officer.”

“Well how do you do? It is so nice to
meet some of Woof’s friends.”

“It is Worf, madam.”

Mrs Troi took Worf by the arm and led him to
the observation lounge for the singing.

Julian was beaming. “I guess the singing won’t
be bad after all.”

The President of the Federation, an Andorian
named
Kail Darex convened the mass of diplomats, heads of states and
Starfleet personnel for a brief speech. As the President of the
United Federation of Planets, I welcome all of you to the admission
ceremony of Bajor. Ever since the founding of the Federation, we have
sought to grow and learn about other cultures. The admission of Bajor
into our family will add a deep spiritual facet to us all and will be
wholeheartedly welcomed. As President, it is a great honour to welcome
new allies and members of the Federation. We need no reminder of the
hardships of the last two years. It is good to return to peaceful
duties after such loss of life. May I now ask all present to observe a
two-minute silence for all that perished in the Dominion War.

It went to plan. Everybody was quiet. The many
Starfleet personnel that had attended the event had lost some people
they knew in the War; it was a special moment for them. Notably for
Worf. He was still living with the pain of his lost beloved and this
prompted Ezri to hold the ambassador’s hand. The ambience of the room
started to change. It felt cold. Colder than normal. It also started to
get brighter and brighter. This light was so bright that it blinded
everyone. Then it disappeared. A man was lying, dazed and
disorientated, in the middle of the room. He had a shaven-head. He had
a goatee beard. He wore a Starfleet uniform and he was a Captain. It was
Benjamin Sisko.

“DAD!!” Jake Sisko was covering this event for
the
Trans-Federation Times. His father had come back to him! “Dad! Can you
hear me? Are you OK?”

All in the room were in shock. Ben Sisko had
come back. The Wormhole aliens had released him. But why? Was Bajor in
danger?

“Everybody, give him room!” Dr. Bashir was
quickly on the case. “Sir, its Julian. Everything will be alright.”

“Doctor. Worf. Ezri. Colonel Kira. Kassidy.”
Everyone
Benjamin from before knew was present, bar Odo and O’Brien. Ben, on the
floor, turned to look at his son and smiled. “Jake! How have you been?”

Jake could not hide his delight and happiness.
His
dad had returned. He could only go and give Ben a huge hug. Tears of
joy ran down Ben and Jake’s faces. Benjamin was well enough to stand.
“Mr. President.”

“Captain Sisko?” Darex was stumped. “How? Why
have you…….”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Mr President, but
the
Prophets sent me to destroy a threat to the Federation. And I intend to
do so.”

CHAPTER TWO –

The Federation President attempted to control
the
crowds, who were evidently shocked at Sisko’s return. “Ladies,
Gentlemen! Please let us continue with the singing.” The crowd came to
order. Shakaar, the First Minister of Bajor, and DS9’s CO Colonel Kira
walked up to Ben to greet him.

“Emissary. You honour us with your presence.
Endorse
the signing today. Please.” Shakaar had hoped the day would be perfect
and with Benjamin’s arrival, it was.

Sisko was sharp in his response. “I shall
endorse
anything that benefits Bajor or the Federation. And today’s signing
does both.” Darex was eager for the ceremony to move forward smoothly
and invited Shakaar to sign.

“First Minister Shakaar, I present to you the
Articles of Federation. Will you honour us by signing it?”

“It’s my pleasure,” replied Shakaar. The
document
contained the signatures of every planetary leader that lead their
world into the Federation family. The President of the united Earth and
Lord of Andor’s marks were listed, dated 2161. Shakaar saw the Federal
Duke of Betazed’s signature, the High Chief of Trill and the Sage of
Tellar. From the one hundred and fifty plus signatures, all in the
native mother tongue, Shakaar signed his name in Bajoran at the bottom.
It was complete. Bajor was a Federation member, at long last.

Darex was clearly excited. “It is now my great
duty
and delight to officially recognise Bajor as a full member of the
United Federation of Planets!”

The whole room erupted in cheers and applause.
Benjamin Sisko had witnessed what he was sent to do eight years ago. He
had steered Bajor from brutal occupation and possible Dominion invasion
to be a part of the great Federation clan. Suddenly, colours were
visible outside. It was a fireworks display. A tribute worthy of the
occasion.

The lounge had beverages from across the
Federation; Champagne from Earth, Ale from Vulcan and a piquant drink
from Risa called Sirt’ethen. Everybody
wanted to see Sisko. The various Starfleet Admirals and Captains, even
the Petty Officers. It seems all of Starfleet knew of his heroics
concerning the Dominion. “It’s an honour to meet you, Captain.” “Sir,
can I have your autograph?” Sisko was an idol, obviously not just in
the religious sense.

The party ended after five hours and the old
crew,
bar Miles and Odo, were standing alone in the lounge along with
President Darex and an Admiral Mbesa. “Captain Sisko,” Mbesa had
something to ask. “Whilst you were away, the situation with the
Romulans took a turn for the worse. After the end of the War, they did
give us back Betazed and Benzar, though a discovery made six months ago
by the Enterprise showed they are arming in unclaimed space near our
border. Is it too much trouble for me to ask you to take the Defiant to
investigate?”

“Admiral, it would be no trouble at all.” Sisko
savoured returning to his old ship. Colonel Kira was puzzled over
something. “So, sir, will we rendezvous with the Enterprise?”

“Yes,” replied Mbesa. “The Enterprise is
currently
stationed in the Gamma Dorodis system, five light years from the
Neutral Zone. You will rendezvous with them there.” Mbesa turned to
Sisko. “It IS good to see you, Captain.”

The President and Admiral left the lounge,
headed for
their quarters. The crew came together in a spontaneous hug. They
thought they would never be together again. “It is so good to see you
ALL!” Ben exclaimed. The crew agreed. “So, Worf how are things on
Kronos? Julian? Ezri? Is the relationship going well? Nerys? How IS
Deep Space Nine?” Ben so wanted to know how things were.

“My duties on Q’onos are fine, sir. Chancellor
Martok is a skilled leader,” replied Worf.

“Good.”

“Well Benjamin, Julian and I are very happy.”

“Yes, sir. And I spoke to Miles the other day.
He, the kids and Keiko have settled down in Hong Kong.”

“Excellent, old man. Send the O’ Brien’s my
regards, Julian.”

“We did install some quantum torpedo launchers
last week. And we’re sending weekly convoys to Cardassia Prime.”

“I do hope the Cardassians can recover. And
Jake, how is the writing going?”

“I finished Anslem!”

Ben was ecstatic. His son had completed his
project, albeit overdue. “I MUST read it! Is it published?”

“Of course,” replied Jake in a smug fashion.
“And
it’s available in bookstores across the Federation. The critics liked
the lead male character. Remind you of anyone?”

“Hmm….I may have met on some occasion.” Jake
and Ben often shared this joke. The character was based on Ben himself.

“Kassidy.” Ben gave his wife a kiss and felt
true happiness at the sight of his new baby son.

“Benjamin….meet your father,” Kas’ eyes were
filling up. “I named him after you.”

This was an emotional moment for all concerned.
Ben
senior had met Benjamin Junior. The infant was so cute and adorable. He
had Ben senior’s eyes. Ben senior could not let the baby go, even for a
second. He was eager to get on with this mission. “Is everybody ready
to start the mission?”

“Yes, sir.” The feeling of eagerness was
unanimous.

“Well, let’s go.” The crew followed their
beloved leader to the Defiant.

To Benjamin Snr., the Defiant looked exactly
the same
way as it did when the War ended. He remembered the narrow corridors,
Spartan mess hall, and tight and cramped quarters and badly wanted to
see the Bridge and sit in the CO’s chair. Ben had a wide smile on his
face as he came to the door of the Bridge. He composed himself and
entered.

“Captain on the bridge!” a new Lieutenant, whom
obviously Sisko did not know, sounded his arrival. The crew broke out
to applause, thanking Sisko for his presence. Ben was feeling a little
embarrassed.

“Welcome back, sir,” Nerys said.

“Thank you. Thank you all. It’s good to be
back.”
Time to get down to business. Ben sat himself down in the CO’s chair,
ready to command. “Exit the station. Aft thrusters only.”

“Aft thrusters. Aye, sir,” replied the female
Helm
Officer. A Deltan. It did not take much time for the Defiant to clear
the station. “We’ve cleared DS9, sir.”

“Very good. Set course for the Gamma Dorodis
system. Warp Eight.”

“Course plotted and laid in, sir.”

“Engage.” Sisko was revelling in it. He was
back, aboard his old vessel, ready to defend the Federation again.

Gamma Dorodis was 80 light years from the
Bajoran
system. It didn’t take too long to travel to the rendezvous point. When
Sisko ordered the ship from Warp, everyone was shocked to still find
debris left behind from the War. It was ships from all parties.
Federation, Klingon, Romulan, Dominion and Breen.

“Scan for the Enterprise, Ambassador,” ordered
Sisko.

“Aye, sir. There is a Sovereign-class vessel
three million kilometres away. Bearing 078 mark 245.”

“Hail them, old man.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Sisko was a little hesitant to speak with
Jean-Luc
Picard, the captain of the Enterprise. Ben had forgiven Jean-Luc for
Wolf 359, even though the loss of life was not Picard’s fault.
Nonetheless, Sisko felt strange. He saw Picard’s face on the viewscreen
and started to speak. “This is Captain Benjamin Sisko of the starship
Defiant. We have rendezvoused as ordered by Starfleet.”

Captain Picard was taken back. How did Sisko
come back? “Captain Sisko? How? I thought you were with the wormhole
aliens.”

“I was. For a time,” replied Ben. “May I come
aboard to discuss our orders?”

“Of course. Feel free to embark at any time.
Picard out.”

Sisko relaxed. “Colonel, you will have the
Bridge
until I get back. The Sovereign class looks impressive, doesn’t it? I
must ask their Chief Engineer her top warp speed.”

“I would imagine it’s quite high, sir,” said
Worf. “Colonel La Forge is a perfectionist as far as his engines go.”

“Hmm. I see. Well I shall you all in a short
while.”
Sisko left the Bridge for the transporter room. On his way through the
corridors, Ben recalled his first meeting with Picard. Jean-Luc sensed
his hostility. This time it would be different. He would greet Picard
and his senior staff and be civil; Wolf 359 was ten years ago. He, and
Picard, had moved on. On board the Enterprise, Picard was walking
around transporter room 1, waiting for Sisko.

“What’s wrong, sir,” Deanna had sensed Picard’s
thoughts.

“I’m apprehensive. The last time I met Sisko
was
before he took command of DS9. Our meeting was…well not civil. I
don’t mean for it to be the same again.”

“I think Benjamin Sisko is feeling the same
things,” replied Troi.

“Maybe, Counsellor.”

Commander Riker had entered the room. “Phew, he
hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve always wanted to know why the Klingon
restaurant on DS9 served such poor gagh. I’ll ask Sisko when he gets
here.” Another example of Will’s wit. Picard and Troi smiled at the
witticism.

“Captain Picard, we have an incoming transport.
It’s Captain Sisko.”

“Thank you, Chief. Energise.” The obligatory
blue
flash accompanied Sisko aboard the Enterprise. Two legendary Captains,
both whom discovered and helped thwart the Federation’s greatest
threats, were now in the same room.

“Captain Sisko, welcome aboard the Enterprise.”
Picard was willing to please.

“Thank you, Captain. This IS an impressive
ship.” The
two were civil and friendly towards each other. Memories of Wolf 359
had been put aside.

“This is my XO, Colonel William Riker and my
Counsellor, Colonel Deanna Troi.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” said Sisko.
“So, Captain, is now a good time to talk?”

“As good a time as any!” Both Sisko and Picard
exited
the room to head for the observation lounge. They acted like they were
friends from the Academy. Both had mutual respect for each other’s
deeds.

The Captains came to a turbolift and entered.
“Bridge,” said Picard. “I was sorry that I could not attend the signing
of Bajor into the Federation.”

“That is unfortunate. It was quite a bash.”

“I can imagine.” Picard’s tone changed from
content
to sober. “Things have been quite onboard since the anniversary
yesterday. We lost a lot of good people in the War.”

Ben sighed, remembering Jadzia. “As did we at
DS9.”

The lift stopped at the Bridge. “Captain on the
Bridge!” said an Ensign.

“As you were,” Picard sounded. Ben accompanied
Picard into the observation lounge.

“Would you like something to drink?” asked
Jean-Luc.

“Do you have Raktajino? Klingon coffee.”

“I’ll check. Raktajino and Tea. Earl Grey,
hot.” Both
appeared from the replicator. “So Captain, I assume Admiral Mbesa
filled you in on the details.”

Sisko took a sip of coffee and answered. “Yes,
he did. Do you know what kind of arsenal the Romulans are building?”

“Not quite. Though reports from Starfleet
Intelligence show quantum singularity drives.”

“They’re building ships?”

“Perhaps, but this is more disturbing.”
Jean-Luc
handed to Sisko a classified Starfleet intelligence file. Benjamin read
it and was shocked immediately.

“Transwarp?! The only species I know who use
Transwarp are the Borg! How the hell did the Romulans get their hands
on this?”

Picard had a serious tone in his voice. “I do
not
know. But with this technology, the Romulans will have the strategic
upper hand in the Alpha Quadrant. We cannot let that happen.”

CHAPTER THREE

Captains’ Benjamin Sisko and Jean-Luc Picard
were in a mutual state of worry. The Romulans, the ‘Cold War’
enemy of the Federation, had gained the ability to travel at faster
than warp speed. Entire regiments of the Romulan armed forces could
land on any Federation planet within a very short time indeed.

“What do Starfleet Command intend to do about
this?” said Ben.

“They have ordered the Enterprise and the
Defiant to
observe the comings and goings of this area. If the Romulans are
suspicious of our presence, we will say we are performing tactical
manoeuvres.”

Just then Jean-Luc’s combadge sounded. “Riker
to Picard.”

“Picard here”

“We’ve located some transwarp signatures
emanating
from across the border. Judging by the vectors, we think they are
headed for Earth.”

What Commander Riker had told Picard and Sisko
was
grave. The Romulan Star Empire, with their new navigational technology,
had the chance to strike the heart of the Federation with rapid ease.
Both Benjamin and Jean-Luc headed for the bridge.

“Commander Riker, can you open a channel to the
Defiant?” asked Sisko. Riker nodded to a Lieutenant at Tactical. “Yes
sir,” responded Riker.

Colonel Kira’s face appeared on the
Enterprise’s
viewscreen. “Captain, is something wrong? We detected some transwarp
signatures that were headed for Earth!

“As did we, Colonel. I will beam aboard the
Defiant
and we shall set course for Earth at Maximum warp.” Sisko turned
towards Picard. “So we’ll rendezvous at Earth. Shall I inform Starfleet
Command of the new developments?”

“It’s quite alright, Captain. I’ll speak to
Admiral Mbesa directly.”

“I think it’s best if we also inform President
Kail Darex of what has happened too.”

“Agreed.”

“See you on Earth.”

Picard nodded and Sisko walked to the
transporter
room, accompanied by Picard and Commander Riker. Ben was back aboard
his own ship and made way for the bridge of the Defiant. Whilst in the
corridors, he thought of getting to Earth. “Colonel, set course for
Earth. Maximum Warp.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Kira through the combadge.

It was obvious to Ben that the Defiant was at a
disadvantage. Warp 9.915 was not as fast as any transwarp speed. The
Romulans could place a whole squadron of ships in the Sol system
without difficulty or perhaps being detected. Benjamin thought of
contacting President Darex directly at the Office of the President in
Paris. He was uncertain of how Darex would respond to a threat to
Earth. Memories of how former President Jaresh Inyo handled Admiral
Leyton’s attempted coup immediately sprung to mind.

“Ambassador Worf,” asked Ben wanting attention.

“Yes Captain,” said Worf in response.

“Apart from the signing, have you spoken to
President Darex of late?”

“Of course. He attended a conference on the
Klingon homeworld two months ago.”

“I see. Will he respond favourably to a threat
to Earth’s security?”

“I believe so, sir. Andorians are formidable
warriors. With his heritage in mind, I think he will defend against any
threat.” Worf was sure of his opinion. The Ambassador words had also
quelled any fears that Sisko might have had and contacting Darex was
now of top priority.

“Old man, contact the Office of the President
on Earth. Get me President Darex.”

“Aye, sir.”

In a matter of seconds, a link had been made
over 100
light years. The President’s antennae and blue complexion were clear to
see on the viewscreen. It looked like a calm day in Paris; the Eiffel
Tower was visible in the distance, rebuilt in 2093 after destruction in
the Third World War.

“Mr President,” said Ben.

“Captain Sisko! It’s a pleasure to see you so
soon after the singing. What can I do for you?”

“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you, sir. The
Romulans are headed for Earth at transwarp. Although we have no way of
knowing for sure, they may be a fleet of starships on their way.”

The President was astounded. “Don’t they
realise this
means war? Neither the Federation or the Romulan Empire is in a fit
state to wage a conflict!”

“I am sure they do, Mr President.” Ben
concurred.
“But we need some safeguard to protect Earth. The Defiant and the
Enterprise are on their way, though I think we need a fleet of one
hundred starships. Minimum.”

“Captain Sisko, I do not want to be remembered
as the
Federation President who led the United Federation of Planets into
conflict so soon after the Dominion War. I will speak to Starfleet
Command and order 180 ships to converge at Sol immediately.” Darex was
solemn in his statement, but was truly sincere in saying that he wanted
to avoid conflicts at all costs.

“Thank you, sir. Would you be interested in the
data we compiled on the transwarp signatures?”

“Yes, of course,” Darex was cheerful. Sisko
nodded to
Bashir whom quickly sent them. “I have it, Captain and look forward
analysing it. Good luck. Darex out.”

“Lieutenant Nog, how much longer until we reach
the Sol system?”

The young Ferengi gave a quick reply. “19 hours
sir.”

Dax was feeling a little bored and wanted to
liven up proceedings. “Is anyone going to vote for Darex come the next
election?”

“I shall register my vote,” said Worf. “As a
member
of the Federation Conservative Party, I wholeheartedly support his
views on issues and await his manifesto.”

“Though I believe in his commitment to keeping
Starfleet at a level of battle readiness,” commented Julian, “is it
good to continue negative relations with the Romulans?”

“Romulans cannot be trusted! They are devious
and without honour!” Ambassador Worf proclaimed.

“Well I support Darex’s stance on Federation
enlargement,” added Nog. “The more members, the better in my view.”

“Naavok of Vulcan seems like a good choice in
my
opinion,” said Kira. “Though Starfleet should be battle ready, we must
avoid conflict when possible.”

Sisko had yet to add his opinion to the others
in the political discussion. “What do you think Benjamin?” asked Ezri.

“Hmmm….Darex’s viewpoints on certain issues
are
sound yet it is hypocritical of him to state that crime on Earth is at
a low when crime on his homeworld of Andor is at a high. Also what is
he going to do to quell the fears of the dilithium workers on Jarmads
III? The United Liberal Front leader, Kim Dahars, would make a good
President.”

“Federation Conservative Party, eh Worf?” joked
Ezri. “Little wonder you supported those ‘essentialists’ on Risa,
remember?”

Bashir chuckled, also remembering what Worf did
when
Jadzia, Leeta, Quark, Worf and he were on Riza. Worf was a little
embarrassed. “I still believe that the Federation must go back to the
essentials. We all know recent Federation history is less than rosy.”

“Perhaps,” stated Ben. “But the Federation
survived
the Borg, the Dominion, the Klingon war and confrontations with the
Romulans. We shall carry on.”

Dax had received a signal from her station.
“Benjamin, we are receiving a hail from the Enterprise. It’s Captain
Picard.”

“On screen. Let’s see what Jean-Luc wants.”

The Frenchman’s face appeared on the Defiant’s
viewscreen. “Captain Sisko, I have spoken with Admiral Mbesa at
Starfleet Command. He reports that there was only one transwarp
signature in the Sol system.”

“Only one?” Ben was surprised. “Then the
signatures we picked up across the border were faked.”

“It seems that way,” replied Picard. “We have
also reason to believe that some Romulans may be on Earth.”

Ben sighed and thought for a moment. “How could
Romulans transport on Earth? Were they detected?”

“Only for a short time. They could be anywhere
on the planet.”

“Is it wise, sir, for Romulans to be walking
around
on Earth? Won’t someone recognise they’re Romulan?” added Ezri,
directing her question towards Picard.

“It is possible they may have surgically
altered themselves to appear human,” said Bashir.

“Commander Data came up with the same
hypothesis,”
stated Picard. “Another worrying aspect is that the Romulan government
deny any knowledge of a transwarp programme. They find the notion
‘absurd and ludicrous’, to quote their own words. Admiral Mbesa
informed me that Darex has spoken directly to the Romulan Praetor.

Benjamin still felt worried. “So, Captain what
do suggest we do now?”

“I think it’s best if we head for Earth and
speak with Starfleet Command.

“Agreed. Sisko out.” Ben needed time to think
for a
moment. The Romulans themselves have officially denied knowledge of
transwarp experiments, yet some of them are on Earth? In the heart of
the Federation?

The trip to Earth passed relatively quickly. It
was a
great sight to see Earth from a 300 km orbit. “It’s beautiful, isn’t
it?” said Bashir.

“It sure is. But Earth is never as wet as
Ferenginar,” joked Nog.

“What is Q’onos like, Ambassador,” asked Ben.

“Q’onos is cool for the large part. It can get
quite hot in the summer, reaching an average of 40 degrees Celsius.”

Everybody couldn’t believe it. Forty degrees?
Little wonder Klingons were so aggressive.

Colonel Kira had seen the Enterprise was in
orbit on her console. “Captain, the Enterprise has assumed an orbit of
Earth.

“Very good. Hail Captain Picard.” ordered Sisko.

“Aye, sir.”

Picard’s face appeared on the viewscreen,
again. “Captain Picard, when will you be ready to beam to HQ?”

“I am ready when you are Captain. Lieutenant
Commander Data, my second officer, and Commander Riker will be joining
me.”

Ben replied quickly. “Colonel Kira Nerys of the
Bajoran Militia and Ambassador Worf will be accompanying me.”

“Very good. We will see at Starfleet Command.
Picard out.”

“Mr. Nog, you will have the bridge until we get
back.” Sisko smiled when offering Nog his first ever command. Nog could
not appreciate what Ben had given him. Command, albiet temporarily, of
a Defiant-class starship! What until his Academy friends here about
this!

“Yes, sir,” said Nog.

Nerys, Ben and Worf transported outside
Starfleet
Command in San Francisco. “They’ve done their best to rebuild after the
Breen attack,” commented Ben.

“Captain Sisko.” Picard called out to Ben and
walked
over to him. A great smile covered Jean-Luc’s face when he saw his
former Security/Tactical Officer, Ambassador Worf. “Ambassador Worf!
How ARE things on Kronos?”

“They are fine, sir.”

Commander Riker and Mr Data were also happy to
see
their old friend. “Worf! It’s so good to see you!” Commander Data
seemed unlike his calm and staid self.

“Is something wrong, Commander?” asked Worf.

“Oh, don’t mind me! Just my emotion chip!”

“I see.”

Captain Sisko was smiling after watching the
mini-reunion. “Captain Picard, this is my station executive officer,
Colonel Kira Nerys.”

Picard shook Nerys’ hand. “It’s a pleasure to
meet you. And Captain, meet my second officer, Commander Data.”

“Doctor Bashir has told me a lot about you,”
said Ben.

“I hope Doctor Bashir is making breakthroughs
in his research,” replied Data.

“We’re scheduled to meet Admiral Chan,
Captain,” added Picard.

“Fine. Let us go.” The officers made there way
into
the HQ building to meet with the Admiral. Starfleet Command had
holograms of all of the famous figures in its history. Of course, it
had Captain James T. Kirk onboard the Enterprise Bridge. Everybody in
the party was shocked to learn of Captain Sisko and Picard’s inclusion
in the ‘hall of fame’. Data read the plaque of both exhibits. “For
outstanding service to the Federation in the modern era.”

After three or four minutes in the turbolift,
the
crew reached the area in which Admiral Chan’s office was located. The
door buzzed as they approached. “Come,” said a voice. All entered the
office.

“Captain Sisko. Captain Picard. Welcome.” Chan
was very courteous.

“It’s good to be here, Admiral.” Ben and
Jean-Luc simultaneously showed their approval.

“All of you, please, take a seat,” offered
Chan. “I assume you have spoken to the President and Admiral Mbesa.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Ben.

“Well, Intelligence has reported that some
Romulan dissidents have organised themselves on Earth. In Asia, to be
exact.”

All were shocked. “Colonel Kira Nerys, Bajoran
Militia. Does Intelligence know what they want, Admiral?” asked Nerys.

“Reports have suggested that these radicals
want the
Romulan Star Empire to declare war on the Federation, Colonel. It seems
they have come to Earth to commit sabotage. Ben, Jean-Luc, I am sending
you to the Starfleet base outside of Hong Kong. We believe that the
Romulans are in hiding in that area. We must find them and neutralise
them.”

“We understand Admiral.”

“Good. So Jean-Luc?” Chan changed the subject.
“How is the Enterprise?”

“She is fine, sir. She received new phaser
upgrades last week.”

“Excellent. And Benjamin, how is DS9?”

“The Dominion have kept to their side of the
bargain, so far. Do you know anything about the Female Shapeshifter’s
trial?”

Chan was downbeat and seem disheartened. “The
trial
is still ongoing. All of the witnesses to her crimes are dead or, in
the case of the Breen, in extreme isolationism. Well, I shall leave you
to take the shuttle to Hong Kong. It was a pleasure meeting all of you.”

Commander Data was troubled over something and
needed
to speak to Admiral Chan. “Sir, what is the situation regarding the
Breen?”

“As you know Commander, the Breen departed en
masse
after the final battle of the War and the Allied siege of Cardassia
Prime. No known trace of Breen activity has been detected since then.”

“Ah. Thank you, sir,” replied Data.

The party left the office and headed outside
HQ. “I
think it’s best if you beam back up to the Defiant, Kira and Worf,”
mentioned Ben.

“Yes, sir.”

“Commander, you will have the bridge until I
get back,” said Picard to Riker. “You and Data should get back to the
ship.”

Ambassador Worf, Colonel Kira and Commanders
Data and Riker beamed back up to their respective ships.

“So Captain,” spoke Ben. “On to Hong Kong.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The Starfleet shuttle, travelling at many times
the
speed of sound, reached Hong Kong in an hour. It was a sunny day and it
reminded Picard of a special occasion. When he met James T. Kirk.

“The way the sun is shining reminds me of a
time when I actually met James T. Kirk.”

“What? You met him too!” answered Ben.

“You met him? Where? How?”

“I was thinking the same thing!”

“I was on a mission on a remote planet when I
was caught in a temporal anomaly. I saw Kirk as an older man.”

“Well, the Defiant to was caught in a temporal
anomaly. I met Kirk onboard the Enterprise! In his prime!”

As the two continued trading stories, they set
their tricorders to scan for Romulan life-signs. “I’ve found
something,” proclaimed Sisko. “Romulans, a kilometre from here.”

“Let’s go.”

The two Captains reached the location quickly
and
found a house within a field. “Are you sure this is the place?” asked
Jean-Luc.

“The lifesigns are here.” Ben entered the
house. He was immediately taken back by disrupter fire. “Picard, get
down!”

Luckily, both were holding phasers, though they
could
not see anyone whom to return fire too. The thought occurred that they
should reason with the person, or people, who attempted to kill them.
“We are not here to harm you!” shouted Picard. “We just wish to speak
to you so we can resolve a threat to the security of the Alpha
Quadrant.”

A voice could be heard. “Tell the Romulan
government
to annex the Neutral Zone and everything in it for the Romulan Star
Empire!”

“You know that will lead to war!” shouted Ben.
“And
our governments in our present state are not prepared for another major
conflict.”

“We have the tactical advantage over you!” the
voice replied.

“But the Treaty of Algernon will be null and
void.
Think about it. What’s stopping us from developing our own cloaking
device?” Picard bellowed.

Things were quite for a minute or two. Sisko
and Picard had hid behind some furniture for protection. Then without
their knowledge, a bunch of Romulans walked into the open. A fainter
voice started to speak. “The Romulan Empire has been stagnant for too
long! We must claim the Alpha Quadrant for our own and then the rest of
the galaxy.”

“You don’t really believe that do you?” Ben
posed them a question.

“The only thing I believe is that two Starfleet
Captains hide behind furniture like Klingon fools.”

“You may shoot us!” shouted Ben.

“We are unarmed,” one of the Romulans replied.

“How do we know we can trust you?” asked
Picard. At that point, ten disrupters landed near Sisko and Picard.

“Because we ARE unarmed!”

Ben and Jean-Luc stood up, reluctantly. The
Romulans
were indeed unarmed and looked as if they wanted to talk. What did
these extremists want?

“We can’t let you attack the Federation! If you
do, we shall respond in kind!” exclaimed Sisko.

One Romulan smiled. “Captain Benjamin Sisko.
The man who started the Dominion War.”

“I didn’t start the war. The Founders did!”

“Whatever……we are called the Mone Surart;
to use a human term, you could say we are a…’right-wing’
organisation. We believe in the claiming of the Alpha Quadrant by the
Romulans. Starting with the Federation.”

“President Darex has ordered one hundred and
eighty
starships to this solar system. I hope the Romulan fleets are ready for
that!”

“Well, Sisko, we may be on Earth alone but we
have a sizeable fleet of starships and personnel within sector 001.
Goodbye!”

The Romulans transported away, leaving Sisko
and
Picard shocked. “Picard to Enterprise.” Jean-Luc wanted to know if a
ship was in the area.

“Riker here, sir.”

“Is there a Romulan ship in the area?”

“No, sir,” replied the Commander. “Though we
detected
Romulans leaving your position. I may be possible they have a cloaked
ship in orbit.”

“Damn!” said Sisko. After using mild profanity,
his combadge sounded.

“Kira to Sisko.”

“Go ahead, Colonel.”

“The Starfleet squadrons have arrived in the
Sol system, sir. They’ll reach Earth in minutes.”

“Excellent.” Both Captains were happy. “Sisko
out.”

Jean-Luc and Benjamin beamed aboard their ships
waiting for the battle to commence. Onboard the Defiant, Ambassador
Worf had told Sisko he had been in contact with Chancellor Martok.
Martok had agreed to send 80 ships to help defend Earth. The news
obviously pleased Sisko.

“Captain,” said Colonel.

“Yes, Nerys.”

“Sensors show that 150 renegade Romulan ships
have de-cloaked near Pluto. They will be here at Earth soon.”

“Red alert!” shouted Sisko. “All hands go to
battle
stations. Prepare to engage the enemy. Doctor Bashir, I need you in
sickbay.”

“Aye, Captain.”

It was a nervous wait for the Romulan ships to
get to
Earth. What was it? 10 minutes? It seemed like an hour. Finally they
came, disrupters and all. The initial barrage went well for Starfleet.
But even with the numerical disadvantage, the Romulans still kept
pressing. Who knows? Maybe another wave of cloaked ships was on their
way. Sisko had to know how the battle in general was going. “Old man,
hail the Enterprise.”

“Aye, sir.”

Picard was on screen and Ben started to speak.
“Captain, sensors show we have lost only 9 ships but we not punching
through. Any suggestions?”

“I had spoken to Admiral Danson, the leader of
the
task force, before now. He said the lower attack wings 10 and 12 should
aim at the centre of their lines.”

“Very well. We’ll join them. Sisko out. Mr.
Nog, make a rendezvous with attack wings 10 and 12.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Defiant flew across to the centre of the
renegade
lines with some Akira and Galaxy-class ships. The Defiant exchanged
blows with a lot of Romulan ships, often coming up the victor, but
Sisko had to await a surprise.

“Captain Sisko.” Colonel Kira had an anxious
tone to her voice.

“What is it Nerys?”

“A squadron of fifty Romulan ships have
de-cloaked
near Mars.” Everybody feared the worst. The Romulans now had the
advantage, at least numerically.

“Ambassador, are there any signs from the
Klingons?” barked Ben.

“No, sir. Though as you know, Chancellor Martok
is a man of his word.” Just then a torpedo rocked the ship.

“We’ve lost warp drive!” shouted Nerys. “Sir,
Admiral Danson is hailing us.”

“On screen.”

“Captain Sisko, we’ve lost 40 ships and the
Romulans
have an extra wave coming in. I have called for reinforcements but they
will not be here for another half an hour. We need you to hold your
line!”

“Will do, Admiral. Some Akira class ships have
been destroyed but the Galaxies and us are alright.”

“Very good. We can’t afford to crumble in the
middle.
I would get the Enterprise to help you but they are under constant
fire. Danson out.”

The Defiant’s line withstood the extra Romulan
attack
with aplomb. They annihilated the opposing line but were facing wave
after wave. ‘This can’t continue,’ contemplated Ben.
‘Someone…something….MUST break the stalemate.’

The situation lasted for about 30 minutes, time
for
the Starfleet reinforcements to arrive. But this was countered with
renegade Romulan reinforcements. “This is ridiculous!” exclaimed
Benjamin. “Old man, try to raise Picard.”

“I’ve got him, sir.”

“On screen”

Picard looked relieved to see Sisko. “We had
not heard from you in a while,” said Jean-Luc. “I had started to think
the worst.”

“We had the same emotions,” answered Sisko.
“The two fleets are evenly matched. What can we do?”

“I’ll try to turn their flank.”

“Has your ship suffered damage?”

“We’ve lost secondary systems, but nothing we
can’t handle. I’ll ask Danson to send some more ships to help us.
Picard out.”

The Enterprise, along with five Intrepid-class
vessels, attempted to twist the Romulans battle layout. They exchanged
fierce phaser and torpedo fire with the Romulans but could still not
make a breakthrough. If things stayed like this, the battle would go on
for hours.

Onboard the Defiant, all personnel were worried
that
no progress was being made. Then Ambassador Worf, sitting at his old
console, discovered something. It looked like good news.

“Captain Sisko, some ships are de-cloaking. It
IS 85 Klingon warships!”

Everybody cheered. Now the Federation fleet
could
make some headway. Sisko now scented a victory. The Klingons flew
towards the Romulans at incredible speed, unleashing great amounts of
disrupter fire. In addition to the weapons fire from the Starfleet task
force, it was too much for the Romulans.

“Sir,” said Nerys. “36 Romulan ships have been
destroyed. Another 30 have suffered heavy damage.”

Sisko could see it on the viewscreen. The
Romulans
were now retreating.. According to sensors the last remnants of the
renegade fleet had headed towards unclaimed space near the Romulan
border. The battle had been won.

“Hail the Enterprise and Admiral Danson,” said
Sisko in a cheerful fashion.

“Channel open, sir.”

The Admiral and Captain’s faces were on the
viewscreen. “Although we’ve lost 20 ships and a few are heavily
damaged, we must give our deepest thanks towards the Klingons,”
proclaimed Danson. “Did the Defiant suffer heavy damage?”

“Our warp drive is unavailable, sir,” replied
Ben.
“But I trust my engineers will get it back in operation soon. How about
you, Picard? Is the Enterprise OK?”

“As I told you earlier Captain, we have no
secondary
systems. Though we’ve suffered no casualties,” Picard responded amidst
spurts of gas used to contain a few fires on the Enterprise Bridge.

“Very good, Captains. The fleet and my ship
will go
to Starbase 6 for repair. Danson out.” The three-way communication
ended. Sisko felt fortunate that his ship, warp drive notwithstanding,
had remained undamaged. Ben decided to go via impulse drive to McKinley
Station for assistance in repairing the warp drive. Thirty more
Starfleet engineers were transported aboard the Defiant to help, which
overall only took an hour or so. After the warp drive was operational,
the Defiant was receiving a hail from the Enterprise.

“On screen,” ordered Ben.

Jean-Luc Picard was beaming, standing beside
his
trusted XO Commander Riker. “Captain Sisko, I hope you have repaired
the damage to your vessel.”

“We have, Captain. I see the Enterprise is
looking
good herself. We will be leaving for Deep Space Nine shortly. I would
like to say, it has been an honour serving with you.”

“The honour is all mine,” responded Picard. “I
wish you good luck with your work at DS9…and with the Prophets.
Picard out.”

The Enterprise-E remained in orbit of Earth.
All Sisko needed to do now was order the Defiant’s trip back to DS9.

“Mr. Nog, set course for Deep Space Nine. Warp
Factor 8. Engage.”

“With pleasure, sir,” the young Ferengi helm
officer was eager to get back home.

Just as the ship was ready to break the light
barrier, Sisko was surrounded by a clear white ambience. His mother was
standing opposite and received a kiss on the cheek from Sarah. He was
in the Celestial Temple.

The Emissary has proven his worth, again. You have
saved Bajor and your Federation. But trouble is lurking near. Be
vigilant and all will be well.

‘Mother? Is the Federation under further threat?’

The Sisko must remain at the Gateway, for he is of Bajor. When
the time comes, he shall be ready to defeat the malevolence.

Ben was returned to the Captain’s chair of
the Defiant; the ship was now in full warp. What did the latest vision
mean? Must he stay at DS9? To protect the station, Bajor, the
Federation from what?

Even though the message was incomprehensible,
Benjamin realised that his work as the Emissary to the Prophets was not
finished yet.

THE END

 

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