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The Star Eagle Adventures: QD2 - State of Entanglement

34

When Michael and Amaya arrived in the empty, yellow-gridded holodeck they found pretty much everyone else already present. Xylion, Hopkins, and Deen were standing around what looked like a computer console, complete with a raised platform, its sole purpose, it appeared, was to connect the card-shaped device with the computer. Michael couldn’t tell if the console had been brought into the holodeck, or, and this seemed more likely, that the contraption was a holographic construct itself.

Garla stood nearby, her arms crossed in front of her chest and appearing as defiant as she had earlier, Culsten still by her side and Nora Laas and the orange-furred Caitian junior lieutenant T’Nerr watching over the Krellonian agent.

Bensu also watched the trio working on the console from where he stood a few meters away from the others but seemed otherwise not heavily involved in the process.

Jarik and his father were standing in a far corner, the half-Vulcan looking more anxious than his father. José Carlos from security stood near Jarik. On Nora’s insistence and with Michael’s full support she had assigned her deputy to follow him wherever he went on Eagle and with specific instructions not to allow him near any sensitive areas. Jarik had unsurprisingly objected to this treatment which he felt to be undignified for a man of his position but considering what he had been up to with the late Gene Edison, Michael had ignored his laments and instead also ensured that he surrender the Prism again and placed it under guard in the science lab. Jon Owens, for once, had backed his son’s play as well, leaving Jarik with no allies on Eagle.

Tazla Star greeted the two captains as soon as they had entered the cavernous room. “I’m being told we’re almost ready to get started.”

Michael nodded. “How does this work exactly?”

“I think I better let the experts explain that,” she said and indicated towards Xylion and the others.

The science officer looked up from the console. “We have not been able to determine the precise nature of the device or how it functions,” he said.

“It’s one hell of a piece of technology though,” said Hopkins with noticeable awe in her tone. Michael wasn’t sure if he had ever met a person as excited about encountering new forms of tech. “With more time I’m sure there is plenty we could find out about it.”

Deen nodded. “It’s definitely a few centuries beyond Federation science. Perhaps more.”

Michael stepped closer to the platform to study the unassuming device which still didn’t look all that impressive to him. “Is there anything you were able to learn about its origins and who may have built it?”

“Not really,” said Deen. “But it stands to reason that whoever created the Ring out there may also be responsible for this device.”

“And the Prism as well?”

“Since both objects and the structure have continued to defy our own analysis, it is impossible to determine this for certain,” Xylion said. “However, it is a reasonable hypothesis.”

Michael considered the Vulcan and then Bensu. “What are you getting from this?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. What I can say for certain is that it does not resonate with the same kind of energy as the Prism artifact,” he said after glancing at the device.

“Best as we have been able to tell so far,” continued Hopkins, “this device isn’t so much a communicator than a data storage device. Once we tried to interface with it our own systems began to reconfigure themselves to allow for what we believe is holographic-based communications.”

Amaya stepped forward. “Which explains why we are here,” she said and both Hopkins and Deen nodded. “But how exactly are we establishing communications? Are we just going to plug this thing in and see what happens?”

Deen grinned sheepishly. “Actually, that was exactly our plan.”

Michael frowned. He may not have been a scientist at his core, but he did usually prefer a more methodic approach when dealing with new technology. Otherwise, what was the point of having a ship filled with science specialists and research labs?

“In their defense,” said Garla,” that’s pretty much what we did with this. And we had many months to study it. In the end, all that matters is that it works.”

Star shot Michael a quick look. “Nothing ventured?”

He nodded. “All right. Let’s do it.”

Xylion and Hopkins went back to work on the console while Nora tensed up, checking over the phaser holstered at her hip.

“Don’t worry, Laas, if this works according to plan, this will be a purely holographic encounter,” Deen said upon seeing the security chief’s concern.

“If things ever went according to plan around here, I would be out of a job,” she said, finished checking her weapon and then reholstering it. “And seeing that I have not exactly been twiddling my thumbs lately, I think I better err on the side of things going terribly wrong.”

Deen responded with a frown.

“What can we expect?” said Amaya.

When Deen just shrugged, Garla took a step forward. “It’s never been exactly the same. But some form of two-way communication should be possible.”

“Here goes,” said Hopkins and began to input commands into the computer console.

The yellow grid which ran all over the floor, walls, and ceilings disappeared but instead of creating a new environment, their holographic surroundings began to flicker and distort with headache-inducing static which caused Michael to feel disorientated to the point that he was beginning to lose his balance.

Only the other people in the holodeck with him as well as the central console remained fixed in place while everything around them was in constant flux, like some sort of attraction at a carnival ride designed to induce vertigo.

His father was the first to succumb to the effects but thankfully Carlos standing nearby managed to steady him before he could keel over.

Michael wasn’t sure how much more of this he’d be able to endure himself. “Is this some sort of malfunction?”

“Unlikely,” Xylion said. “It is more plausible that the holodeck matrix is not fully compatible with instructions it is receiving from the device. I am attempting to compensate.”

“The sooner the better,” said Amaya. “Otherwise, I’m afraid I shall refamiliarize myself with my breakfast and I don’t think anyone here wants to see that.”

The science officer’s efforts were starting to bear fruit and the image began to stabilize even if it was still a long way off from displaying anything sensible, instead it appeared as if they were floating amongst a kaleidoscope of colors, mostly reds and dark earth tones not entirely dissimilar to the shade of the subspace void that surrounded them.

The first sign that they were in fact going to be able to establish contact with somebody was the appearance of the shapeless and distorted figures. Michael had difficulty counting them since they seemed to appear and then wink out again, just to reappear somewhere else entirely. And this wasn’t just limited to the pane he was standing on, figures appeared completely randomly within the environment, including standing upside down or projected on what would have been the holodeck’s walls. It was, without a doubt, one of the most jarring experiences he had ever encountered.

“Is this normal?” said Lif Culsten as he nearly stumbled while trying and likely failing on focusing on anything in particular.

“I have found that there is no such thing as normal when dealing with these creatures,” Garla said and Michael could see that she had closed her eyes, which was probably the smartest move considering the reality-bending imagery they were exposed to.

“The holo-matrix is aligning with the device interface,” said Xylion whose concentration remained on his console. “The image should begin to further stabilize.”

Michael was now intrigued by a figure that was beginning to take shape just an arm-length away from him. It began like nothing more than a shadow, similar to the figure Bensu and Xylion had conjured when they had experimented with the Prism earlier but this time it began to take on a more familiar form until it was undeniably one of the subspace aliens he had encountered previously, wearing the same long robe with a deep hood, and possessing those same reptilian features including deep and dark soulless eyes.

It was very possible that he was mistaken since he couldn’t exactly claim familiarity with this species, but something told him that this was the exact same individual he had helped capture in their previous intrusion into subspace and then nearly tortured to death.

The creature raised its arm, presenting its three-fingered hand, and Michael followed suit. But when they touched, he felt a painful jolt and quickly withdrew his hand again.

Nora quickly stepped closer. “Are you all right, sir?”

He shook out his still hurting hand. “I’m fine. I didn’t expect that.”

The security chief glared at Deen. ”So much for nothing here being able to hurt us.”

Deen looked confused. “I’m not sure what happened. The holodeck’s safety protocols are still in place and working as they should.”

“All it means is that we must be careful,” Michael said as he looked around, seeing more and more creatures appear, even if many of them were still upside down or standing at unnatural right angles. The sound of their clicking language began to fill the holodeck and he had no doubt that many of those aliens were now regarding him and the others.

“Looks like they can see us,” said Amaya. “But can they understand us? I certainly can’t make sense of what I’m hearing.”

“We made some progress in deciphering their language,” said Michael and glanced towards Xylion.

The Vulcan offered a short nod. “The universal translator is active.”

It wasn’t enough to completely eliminate that insisting sound of clicks and snaps but he began to hear more recognizable words among them.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” he heard the voices say, over and over again, from all directions.

Michael decided to focus just on the creature closest to him for now. “My name is Michael Owens from the United Federation of Planets. We are from the realm beyond subspace. We have made contact once before,” he said

“Who are you? Why are you here?” the creature in front of him said in-between clicks.

“We are visitors from beyond your realm. We are looking for a way back to our own universe,” he said.

Another creature, one which hovered above Garla, upside down, spoke to her. “We know you.”

Garla craned her neck back to look the alien in the face. “We’ve had dealings before,” she nearly spat. “We had an agreement. One you have failed to uphold. What you showed me where lies.”

Somewhere to her right, Michael could see images of what he assumed to be from Piqus VII, and although he had never had the opportunity to visit that planet, he didn’t believe that the images he saw belonged to the Piqus of their universe. The blurry and distorted images looked more like what he had remembered seeing in old photographs of Earth’s darkest chapter of its history. They were images of slavery, forced labor and concentration camps. What was unmistakable, however, was that the slaves where all made up of the so-called Outlander races while Krellonian guards watched over them.

Garla angrily pointed at the images in the distance. “That’s a lie. You led me to believe this was our future. Instead, this is an alternate reality. This reality. Not mine.”

Culsten put a hand on her shoulder when she tried to reach out for the hovering creature, likely to assault it. “This isn’t the time for this. Let’s find a way to get home first,” he said.

Michael had to give the younger Krellonian credit for keeping his composure and managing to calm his infuriated aunt, who for now at least, left it to just giving him an angry glare but stopped herself from trying to attack what was essentially nothing more than a holographic projection.

“Who are you?”

Michael turned back to the alien standing near him.

“They aren’t exactly fast on the uptake, are they?” Amaya said

“My name is Michael Owens,” he said and then indicating at the others and Garla. “Like her, we come from what we call regular space. We found your structure and it took us into another universe. We need to find a way back.”

Another creature, standing closer to Jarik glided nearer the half-Vulcan, causing Carlos to tense and moving a hand on his phaser. “We know you,” it said amidst more urgent clicks.

Michael took a few steps to place himself between the alien and Jarik. “We had reason to believe that you are planning to invade our space. We took actions to defend ourselves and took one of your people prisoner.”

The first alien glanced back at him and Michael was surer than ever that it was the creature they had tortured. “You took us prisoner.”

Michael nodded. “Yes. Because we thought you were trying to hurt us.”

“You hurt us,” it said.

Michael shot Jarik a glare but the other man seemed unrepentant. He glanced back towards the alien. “It was a mistake to hurt you.”

Star had moved to his side. “We have an opportunity to find out about their plans,” she whispered in his ear.

Michael nodded. “We have to be delicate here. One step at a time. First, let’s try to find a way back home and create a dialogue. Then we address a potential invasion and all-out war,” he said, keeping his voice equally low even though he had no idea if this meant that these creatures could hear him or not.

“You helped us,” the first alien said to Michael.

He nodded quickly, suppressing a smile at the first sign of progress they were making. “Yes. Because I understood that hurting you was wrong. I want us to speak freely. To learn from each other and avoid conflict. Perhaps we could even become friends.”

“Friends,” the creature said and Michael was not able to determine if it was a statement or a question.

He nodded again. “Yes. And friends help each other. We know you’ve constructed the Ring with Garla’s help,” he said, pointing at the woman. “We know it has somehow thrown us into another universe. One we don’t belong in.” He decided not to mention the Prism for now, better to keep things simple. “We are looking for a way back to where we belong.”

“We belong here,” it said.

“We understand that,” Michael said. “We call this place subspace. It is a layer beyond our dimension, beyond our home. But there are many different dimensions out there. Your ring has placed us in one that isn’t our home.”

“You don’t belong here.”

Michael was beginning to feel that he was losing his audience. He well understood the difficulties of communicating with species so different from the ones he knew that they lacked a common frame of reference. Although this wasn’t exactly a first contact scenario, considering they had met previously, this was the first real attempt to create a dialogue without force or cohesion. It required tact, patience, and diplomacy, three attributes he had always liked to think he possessed in ample supply.

“No, we don’t belong here. Not in subspace and not in this reality,” he said.

At this, the creature went quiet and even the ubiquitous clicking sounds all around them seemed to lessen noticeably.

Michael glanced at the rest of his people, looking for some suggestions. His eyes finally fell unto Bensu. “I think it’s obvious we are having some communication challenges. Perhaps you could attempt to make them understand.”

Bensu looked skeptical. “I’m not sure how I could do this.”

“You have shown some surprising aptitudes dealing with these matters as of late. Just try to communicate with them the way you were able to interact with the artifact. At this point I can’t see how it could hurt,” he said.

Bensu nodded slowly and stepped forward, concentrating on the creature Michael had spoken to. He became quickly obvious that some sort of communication was taking place since the clicking sounds increased once more and the creature began to focus back onto Bensu.

“Are you speaking to it?” Star asked.

But Bensu shook his head. “I wouldn’t call it speaking exactly,” he said while he kept his gaze firmly on the creature. “I am receiving what could be best described as impressions. It’s difficult to put them into words. It’s beyond mere language and imagery.”

Michael had no idea what that meant. “Can you decipher any of it?”

“There is great concern,” he said.

“Concern about what?” Amaya said

“About us, about the Ring, about it fulfilling its function.”

Michael exchanged concerned looks with Amaya and Star before he looked back at Bensu. “Can you gleam its purpose?”

“So far this is mostly a one-way connection,” he said. “I am receiving impressions but I’m not sure how to send any of my own.”

Xylion stepped away from the central console. “I may be able to assist to once more focus your mind to enable you to take greater control of it.”

“That might help,” Bensu said without breaking his eye contact with the alien.

Xylion glanced towards Michael and when he nodded his assent, the Vulcan took up position just behind and to the side of Bensu and reached out for his neck. For a moment Michael thought that Xylion was planning to apply the Vulcan nerve pinch and knock out Bensu but this didn’t seem to be the case. Apparently, Xylion just needed to make physical contact with him, and not necessarily with his face as Michael had observed previously.

“Sense my mind connecting with yours,” Xylion said. “Use it to balance your own thoughts and to focus on the task.”

Bensu nodded slowly. “Yes, I can feel it.”

Michael thought he could see Bensu’s eyes becoming more intense.

“I am trying to determine the purpose of the Ring,” Bensu said.

No sooner had he spoken the words, the creatures’ agitation seemed to increase exponentially, the clicking and popping sounds gaining volume by the second, increasing in speed so much, the universal translator gave up on trying to translate anything. Soon it was getting so bad, many in the room had to cover their ears.

“What is happening?” Amaya shouted to make herself heard.

Xylion crumbled suddenly and Deen and Hopkins quickly rushed to his side, Bensu took a few steps backward as if he had been physically struck, his shoulders immediately sagging as his energy visibly left his body

“The Beholder,” Bensu said. “The time is here.”

Michael wasn’t sure what he was saying but he did recognize the name. The creature had used it before when they had first interrogated it. “Who is the Beholder? Is it them?” he said but Bensu seemed too exhausted to speak and Michael turned back towards the creature. “Are you the Beholder?”

The creature’s blank eyes just looked back at him.

“Can the Beholder help us to get back to our universe?” he said.

“The Beholder. The time is here,” the creature said. “The time is here.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Amaya as she looked around the agitated and loudly clicking aliens. “Something is happening and it doesn’t feel right.”

Their surroundings were beginning to flicker and distort again and the aliens were once more fading out.

“Wait,” Michael said.

“The time is here,” the creature said once more before it had fully disappeared. Moments later the clicking noises were gone so suddenly, the unexpected silence hurt Michael’s ears almost as much as when the noises had become near unbearably loud. The world around him flickered faster and faster and just before it was threatening to overpower his senses entirely, it too vanished to be replaced once more with the standard yellow-on-black grid of the holodeck.

Nora was the first to speak, holstering her phaser again which she apparently had drawn at some point during the chaotic meeting. “I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m glad that’s over.”

A loud surging sound drew everybody’s attention towards the console just before it erupted with a small explosion. Since nobody was still standing near, it didn’t affect anyone but Michael could see that the power surge had burned Garla’s device to a crisp.

Deen and Hopkins had seen to Xylion who seemed to have recovered and Bensu too appeared to find his strength again.

Garla in the meantime had walked up to the destroyed console and carefully picked up the device which was now nothing more than a scorched, black card. “I suppose we won’t be making contact with them again anytime soon.”

Hopkins looked at the destroyed device. “Could they have done this on purpose?”

“Considering how agitated they were I think that’s a good guess.”

But Amaya shook her head. “I don’t pretend to understand what just happened, but I didn’t exactly get the feeling that we were dealing with the most intellectually-advanced species we’ve ever encountered.”

Michael had to admit that he had very much gotten that same impression. However, he also understood that it was dangerous to apply their own understanding of intelligence onto a mostly unknown species so quickly. If they had indeed built the Ring, the communications device, and maybe even the Prism, there was little doubt that these subspace aliens were centuries ahead of their own technological abilities.

Any further thoughts on the subject ended abruptly when he felt the deck trembling underneath him.

“Bridge to captain.”

Michael recognized Leva’s voice. “Go ahead, Commander.”

“Sir, something is happening with the Ring.”

Concerned looks were exchanged among the people in the holodeck.

“Can you describe it?” Michael asked.

“It appears that it has started to move. Or more accurately, it is beginning to spin and according to our readings it’s speeding up at an exponential rate.”

Xylion raised an eyebrow. “Movement of a structure of that size would cause significant gravimetrical sheer.”

“In other words,” said Star. “We probably wouldn’t want to be close to it.”

“Indeed,” Xylion said.

“Commander, back us off from the structure,” he said and then glanced over at Amaya who quickly nodded. “And instruct Agamemnon to follow our lead. We’ll be right there. Owens out.”

“What are the chances that this is unrelated to what just happened here?” said Star.

“I would say very small,” said Deen. “Those words they kept uttering over and over again at the end. That sounded like a warning. Or maybe a threat.”

Michael had to agree. Then the ship shook again, harder this time. “Let’s go to the bridge, we may have to get out here in a hurry,” he said and headed for the doors.

He only made it halfway there before he saw Amaya collapse. He was quickly at her side, steadying her before she could fall. “What happened?”

She seemed baffled. “I don’t know. I suddenly felt incredibly weak, as if every last bit of energy I had was being drained away and—“ she stopped herself again as she gasped and collapsed yet again. Michael watched on in shock as she seemed to flicker for a moment as if she was nothing more than another holographic projection.

“Amaya?”

“Bridge to captain, we have another situation,” the tactical officer said and when Michael didn’t immediately respond, still distracted by whatever had stricken Amaya, he continued. “We are getting very strange readings from the Agamemnon. It appears she is rapidly losing structural integrity on a molecular level.”

With Michael still preoccupied, Star began to communicate with the bridge.

“Can you determine the cause?”

“Negative, but my gut is telling me it is related to the Ring. It is now spinning at an ever-increasing speed and releasing some sort of unknown radiation in massive quantities.”

“Is it affecting Eagle?”

“Not as far as we can tell.”

“We need to get away from that thing now,” said Star.

“Michael,” Amaya said while he held her in his arms, still flickering in and out of existence.

“Just hang on,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure what it was he could do for her.

She reached out for his face but by the time she should have touched him, her hand was gone and a moment later so was the rest of her. Michael stared at where she had been in his arms just a second earlier with wide-eyed shock. “What … what happened?”

Star stepped up to him, ignoring the other captain’s disappearance for now. “Sir, we need to get the ship out of here.”

“There’s nowhere to go.”

Both Michael and Star turned around to look at Bensu. In fact, everyone on the holodeck was looking at him now.

“What do you mean?” Star said.

“It’s not just Captain Donners and the Agamemnon. It’s their entire universe. It’s gone.”
 
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“That’s impossible,” Star said.

“Commander Leva, what is the status of the Agamemnon,” Owens said automatically reopening the channel to the bridge.

“I can’t explain it, sir, but she just vanished. We are also receiving reports that the survivors of the other Eagle who were still on board are also gone, as are the escape pods and every trace of debris we brought onboard.”

Michael was starting to feel dizzy.

Star spoke up next. “Do you still receive telemetry from our signal buoy outside subspace?”

“Negative, the last thing we picked up was some sort of energy surge. Than nothing. It coincided with the activity of the—“ Leva stopped as the ship shook again, this time hard enough to cause everyone on the holodeck to lose their balance. “Sir, the gravimetric sheer is starting to affect our own structural integrity. We won’t be able to sustain it much longer.”

Star glanced at Michael. “We can’t stay here. We’ll have to get back through the threshold and into regular space.”

Michael started to nod but Bensu cut in. “No, we can’t. There is nothing there anymore. If we try to return back to regular space we will disappear as well.”

“How can you know that?” Hopkins asked, clearly having a difficult time comprehending what was happening.

Michael felt much the same way. Amaya was gone. She hadn’t been the woman he had fallen in love with, but she had been so very similar that the differences seemed irrelevant now. And his brain simply couldn’t quite fathom the idea that her entire universe had vanished along with her. He also knew that he had an obligation that outweighed all others. To ensure his ship and crew would not follow that same fate. “Then where do we go?”

Bensu didn’t have an immediate answer.

It was Jarik, who hadn’t spoken at all since all this had started, who suddenly raised his voice. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said, taking a step forward. “We use the Prism. It’s our only chance.”

Michael exchanged glances with Star, both knew that even if they could manage to create another gateway, there was no telling where it would lead and that Eagle would make the trip in one piece. They also immediately understood that Jarik was right: There was no other choice.

He looked towards Bensu. “Do you think you could do it?”

“I’m honestly not sure. Perhaps if we were back in the control sphere with the Prism and Xylion helping me.”

“And I can guide you both,” Jarik said. “After all, I’m the only one here who has used the Prism before. I know how to make this work.”

Michael wasn’t exactly encouraged by those words. And Bensu and Xylion, after what they had both been through didn’t look one hundred percent.

The ship shook again and this time Michael could feel from the way the deck plates rumbled under his feet and the sounds of the bulkheads around him that his ship was starting to come apart at the seams. Time to consider their options was over.

He nodded. “Laas, get to the science lab now and retrieve the artifact than meet us in transporter room one.”

The security chief nodded sharply and then immediately sprinted out of the holodeck and towards her destination, aware that time was not on their side.

Michael considered Xylion next. “What are our chances that we can safely transport back onto the Ring from here?”

“Theoretically, gravimetric sheer should not affect the transporter beam,” he said.

Michael nodded and looked at his father. “Dad, you will need to come to, you’re the only one who can activate the Exhibitor.”

He nodded. “I understand, son.”

“Let’s go.”

On the way to the transporter room, Star made a quick but impassioned argument to let her lead the away team considering the many dangers and unknowns posed by their present situation but Michael was insistent that he went himself much to her chagrin. He instructed her to do whatever was in their power to get the ship ready for another journey through a quantum rift.

He wasn’t surprised to find that Nora had beaten them to the transporter room, already waiting with the case containing the artifact in hand, holding it awkwardly away from her body as if weary of the power contained within.

Jarik was all too eager to take the case off her.

Michael in the meantime focused on Hopkins who promptly joined Chief Chow behind the operator’s console to assist him with what was likely going to be a challenging transport. “Will we still be able to beam over onto the structure while it is in motion?”

The chief engineer must have wondered the same thing as she checked the console. “We’re still receiving steady telemetry from our probes inside the Ring, although any of those originating from the other ships have gone.”

Michael looked at Xylion next.

“It stands to reason that the interior of the structure is not affected by its own momentum or that the structure uses powerful inertial dampeners, similar to the ones we employ,” the science officer said.

“Can we beam straight into the control sphere?” he said.

“Since we know the precise locations of its threshold, that may be possible,” Xylion said and then quickly walked over to an equipment locker, having to steady himself on his way there as the ship continued to struggle against the increasing gravimetrical stress being placed on her hull. He retrieved a number of armbands each with a small device attached and then handed them out to the team. “These are subspace beacons based on the devices we employed during our away mission into the subspace fissure. Theoretically, we should be able to maintain communications and a transporter lock even through a subspace fold. Lieutenant Hopkins and I worked on these earlier, anticipating that they may be required considering our situation.”

Michael took the device and quickly attached it to his upper arm, giving him and his chief engineer appreciative nods. “Good thinking,” he said and was again nearly thrown to the deck had Nora not steadied him in time.

Michael glanced towards the ceiling, more than aware that his ship was on borrowed time. “Owens to Star. What’s our status?”

“Bad and rapidly getting worse,” she responded promptly. “I’d say we have less than five minutes until total structural collapse.”

“Nothing like a bit of pressure,” Michael quipped even if he felt little more than dread about their deteriorating situation. He looked at his people assembled around him. “Dee, Lou, I want you to stay here and do what you can to keep the ship in one piece and help Star prepare for another transition,” he said, receiving sharp nods from both women before he glanced to the others. “You’ve heard the lady. Time is not our friend, let’s move.”

He stepped up onto the platform with Xylion, Bensu, Nora, Jarik, and his father who required Deen’s assistance, quickly joining him. He gave Chief Chow a nod to proceed.

Xylion had indicated that immense gravimetric sheer was unlikely to affect the transporter and yet Michael couldn’t help but feel as if powerful forces were trying to pull and tear at his very disassembled molecules as he felt the familiar tingling sensation of being dematerialized. Perhaps it was just in his head, or maybe it was the fact that they were attempting not just to beam across space but, in essence, through subspace dimensions as well.

The anxiety that went with a difficult and possibly lethal transport abated as quickly as it had come when he rematerialized along with his people inside the control sphere. A quick check confirmed that he had made it through in one piece, as had the others.

The sphere wasn’t exactly how he had remembered it. What had been a tranquil, almost harmonious bubble in an endless void now seemed to be abuzz with activity. The bubble around the platform itself was pulsing and throbbing, waves rippling urgently across the sheer film that surrounded them. Sparks and lightning bolt-like discharges of dark greens and cool reds lit up the void beyond, speaking to a barely contained power raging all around them.

A tiny and very distorted voice focused his mind back to the task at hand. It came from his combadge and it sounded vaguely like Tazla Star but it was impossible to make out what she was saying.

He glanced over to Xylion who had also heard the first officer. “We have not had the time to test and fully calibrate the devices. It is unlikely we will be able to improve communications at this time.”

Michael nodded. “They got us this far, that’s good enough for now,” he said and then tapped his badge. “Owens to Eagle. I am not sure if you can hear us but we are unable to receive a clear signal on this end. If you still have a lock on us, beam us back on board as soon as a gateway is forming.”

Star said something else, it was short and to the point, and Michael hoped it was an acknowledgment. Then the line went dead.

Xylion and Bensu made their way towards the center of the platform and the holographic controls arranged there, most of which were now streaming undecipherable data and flashing in much darker colors than they had before.

Michael and the other followed them. “All right, we have no time to lose. How do we proceed?”

“I suggest we commence our mind-link and attempt to establish a connection with our surroundings. Once that has been accomplished we activate the Prism and aim to use it to create a gateway,” Xylion said.

“How can we know that the gateway will lead us back home?” Michael said.

“I think I can help with that,” Jarik said.

Michael considered him skeptically.

“As I said, I’m the only one here who has used it before. I didn’t fully understand it the first time but I believe I learned from my mistakes. If I can focus sufficiently on our destination, I am certain I can control the gateway’s terminus.”

He didn’t like it but the fact remained that they weren’t blessed with an abundance of options. “What do you need?”

“Let me join the mind-link. I am, after all, half-Vulcan. I possess telepathic abilities myself,” Jarik said.

Michael glanced towards Xylion who offered a short nod. “Any additional psionic energy we can bring to bear to bolster and steady Bensu’s focus is likely going to increase our chances of success.”

Michael nodded. “Do it.”

He watched as the three men knelt onto the floor, positioning themselves closely together so that each was able to establish a touch connection by completing a small triangle. While they were getting ready, Michael moved over to his father who had taken the Prism case off Jarik. “How are you feeling?”

He glanced at his son. “You worry if I’m up for this?”

“You haven’t spoken much since your most recent episode. I’m worried about you,” Michael said honestly. He had still not gotten over losing Amaya Donner, not to mention Gene Edison. Even if both had hailed from other universes, watching them die in such a sudden and unexpected manner had affected him profoundly and he wasn’t sure if he could handle losing his ailing father as well.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Worry about the mission instead. That’s where your focus is needed the most.”

The words were true, of course, but it didn’t stop him from sensing that his father was anything but fine, the weak tone in his voice and his pale face only serving as further proof of this.

“I know what I must do,” Jon Owens said as he began to take a knee, Michael quickly helping him to lower himself, then placed the case in front of him and slowly opened it until its lone content came into view.

Michael thought the platform trembled underneath them even as he once more felt the energy of the unassuming device wash over him.

His father retrieved the Exhibitor and raised it slightly.

“The power in this place, it is staggering. It feels endless and eternal.”

Michael looked back towards the group of kneeling men. It was Jarik who had spoken, his entire body visibly trembling. He took a step towards them.

“It is truly awesome,” Jarik said.

“You must remain focused on the task,” Xylion said, although keeping his eyes closed. “Concentrate on Bensu’s mind and add your strength to his.”

“Yes,” Jarik said. “But the potential here. It is difficult to grasp.”

“Don’t let it distract you,” Michael said. “We need to open that gateway.”

Jarik nodded slowly. “Do it. Activate the Prism.”

Michael looked towards Bensu and Xylion even though neither of them could see him through their closed eyes.

“We are as ready as we will ever be,” Xylion said.

Michael glanced back at his father, giving him a nod.

He in turn activated the Exhibitor and the floor trembled once more as the prism-shaped device emerged as it had before, glowing in bright lights, appearing like a holographic projection as it slowly rotated on its own axis.

But it did something it had not done previously. The shape was growing ever larger and the sphere was responding to it, the ripples becoming more and more pronounced like waves turning into a tsunami, the lightning beyond gained intensity building up to a storm of light and energy.

“I can sense it,” Bensu said. “It’s filling this place. It’s filling me. It’s coursing through everything. It is … too much.”

“Steady your mind,” Xylion said, attempting to remain calm but his voice starting to crack with stress and tension.

“This place is tearing itself to pieces,” Nora said as she struggled to step closer to her captain as the energy coming from the still-growing Prism shape was beginning to manifest itself physically, like a powerful wind attempting to blow away anything in its path. “We can’t stay here.”

He had to agree. Already he was starting to lose his footing and having to fight to keep upright. His father had already been flattened to the ground and the three men in the mind-link were wavering like trees caught in a hurricane.

“It is without end,” Bensu said. “Infinite possibilities, infinite combinations, it’s everything and everywhere. It’s the past, the present, and the future and it’s all at the same time. It’s madness and it’s perfection. It’s the sum of all.”

“We must find just one, isolate it, focus all thought on that one single reality,” Xylion said, struggling to even make himself heard as the world around him was turning into a hellscape.

“Yes, yes,” Jarik screamed like a man possessed, his Vulcan side clearly having lost the battle for control. “I can see it. I can see our destination. I can see home. I can see it so clearly and it is pure perfection, pure beauty. Just reach out for it and take it. Just reach out for it and claim it,” Michael could see tears welling up in the man’s eyes and he couldn’t help wondering if the power they were up against was driving him insane.

“I see it too,” Bensu said, managing to keep himself less hysterical. “I can reach it. I can open it. I just need a little more … strength.”

“Focus on it. All of you, focus on that one single thought,” Xylion urged.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jarik cried. “Here it is, here it is. Take it.” He removed his hand from Bensu’s face and then reached for his own head, taking it in both of his hands as if attempting to keep his head from falling off his shoulders. “It’s too much,” he screamed as she began to stand and then was quickly cut off his feet.

Michael tried to reach him but realized there was no point in even trying, the forces at play where pushing Jarik right towards him.

Before they could collide, Michael too lost his balance and he felt himself become weightless for a brief moment before he was tossed backward and towards the surface of the angrily throbbing globe. Something deep inside him told him that hitting that sphere with sufficient force was a certain death sentence.

He saw the others being swept up as if they were nothing more than ragdolls stuck in the path of a powerful tornado, the eye of which was the glowing and rotating shape of the Prism which was now large enough to fill almost the entire inside of the sphere.

Just as he thought he was going to smash into the bubble, Michael felt his body tingling once more. His mind, too preoccupied with what appeared to be its imminent and painful demise, didn’t even register the sudden change of his surroundings until he dropped onto the hard transporter platform on Eagle.

His body felt too bruised and ached too much to immediately follow his commands or even attempt to stand, he nevertheless managed to turn his head just enough to find, with great relief, that everybody had made it back. Although he couldn’t determine if they were all alive.

He heard Chief Chow’s voice. “We’ve got them, Commander. But they may require medical attention.”

“It will have to wait,” Star responded over the comm, her tone hurried but calm. “We are being pulled into the gateway. Bridge to all hands: Brace, brace, brace.”

It wasn’t enough time to prepare.

Not a moment later the deck lurched violently and Michael thought it could hardly have been worse if Eagle had hit a solid brick wall in space. The lights cut out as the room was plunged into darkness and for the second time in as many minutes, his body was catapulted into the air.

The landing, he knew, was going to be murder.
 
Holy shnikies! :eek: You've brought the drama, tension, and action to a crescendo! If the ship and crew survive, I can't fathom how long Eagle will have to lay in drydock for repairs.

Fortunately, everything the characters have learned to this point gave them the necessary tools to at least make the attempt at an escape back to their dimension. Here's hoping they succeeded!
 
Interlude: The Looking Glass


Six Years Ago

Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco were not a secure facility.

At least not for the kind of work Admiral Jonathan Owens and his Department of Special Affairs and Investigations dealt in. The problem wasn’t necessary security itself, which was pretty impressive for an installation which otherwise prided itself in being transparent and non-threatening. To reach the forty-second floor of the main building which functioned as the official home of SAI, visitors were required to pass at least four security checks. And civilians, as well as members of Starfleet without high-security clearance had to be vetted first and usually didn’t make it as far as reception if they hadn’t been expressly invited.

But there was a good reason why even Starfleet Intelligence conducted most of its business elsewhere, including in its purpose-built facility in central Africa and others including numerous clandestine sites.

San Francisco was simply too high profile for work that was best carried out in the shadows. There were too many people with too many eyes focused on headquarters to make it a viable location for some of Owens’ more delicate work.

After all, few things could be more disruptive than some overzealous admiral, or even worse, the Commander, Starfleet, or the CNC to just casually stroll into the SAI offices and start asking too many questions about a project that wasn’t yet ready for wider scrutiny.

Of the dozen or so clandestine off-site locations administered by SAI, Owens was particularly partial to his facility located at the bottom of a deep and long since abandoned diamond mine located in the sparsely populated Sakha Republic.

Although still located on Earth, it was fair to say that few people ventured this close to the Arctic Circle for good reason, especially not in Far East Russia.

It was therefore the perfect location for one of SAI’s most secretive projects until Operation Myriad was ready to be moved off-world altogether.

One of the advantages of the underground facility was the fact that transporters were unable to beam anyone or anything directly into the base and instead had to be deposited just outside the entrance and at the bottom of the deep, ring-shaped, open-pit mine. Owens had established the base two years prior and he still hadn’t gotten used to the sub-zero temperatures he was briefly exposed to every time he beamed-in from San Francisco.

Thankfully the beam-in area was just a few short steps away from the base entrance and the main turbolift that led deeper into the Earth and the main section of the facility.

His most trusted lieutenant, Jarik, greeted him as soon as he had stepped out of the turbolift.

“We just arrived two hours ago,” he said without preamble and then fell into step beside him as they walked down the fairly standard looking hallway which looked hardly any different than countless corridors on countless Starfleet ships and bases. “Doctor Alaalatoa and her team are looking over it now.”

“You encountered complications in retrieving it?”

Jarik offered a curt nod. “You were right. They did interfere and came very close to obtaining it before we could. However, Susan did an outstanding job of reclaiming the object. At a high cost. We lost Sorenson and his team.”

“That is regrettable,” Owens said without slowing his pace. “I assume you managed to elude any further pursuit from our friends.”

“I am confident we were not pursued. Nobody knows the object is here.”

“Excellent,” he said just before he entered through a set of heavy doors which led into a large, cavernous room with high ceilings and which was mostly empty save for a few work stations lining the outer walls. A handful of men and women in lab coats and blue-shirted science officers stood around a platform positioned at the very center of the room, studying the small object that had been placed there.

Doctor Alaalatoa, a dusky-skinned and impressively tall woman of Samoan ancestry turned to Owens and Jarik as they approached, clearly already excepting what kind of questions she was about to receive.

“Doctor, what have you learned?” Owens asked even before he had reached the group of scientists.

The shorthaired woman shook her head. “Not much, I’m afraid. A few things we have been able to determine. One, it emits an immense form of unidentified energy which we have not been able to identify but which is physically palpable. Two, the device functions like an exhibitor of sorts which summons the object itself which after initial observations appears to be out of phase with our universe and three, we are not able to summon the object using the exhibitor for longer than two point four seconds.”

Jarik nodded. “I noticed the same effect when I first attempted to use it after we managed to obtain it. The exhibitor device grew so hot, I was unable to hold on to it.”

“We made the same observation and have not been able to overcome this limitation,” Alaalatoa said. “What we have been able to determine is that the exhibitor appears to scan the molecular structure of its user to attempt to create a connection. When it is unable to do so, it simply shuts down.”

“It’s a security measure,” said Susan Bano, the Bolian science officer who had been chiefly responsible for obtaining the object from the planet Eteron after a harrowing encounter with enemy agents. In fact, she had chased after the mysterious objects for months, ever since they had learned of its possible existence. She looked at Owens. “It must be a similar feature to what we have observed on the two Pandora Boxes we have obtained. Since studying the shard-artifacts contained inside them led us to this object in the first place, it is clear that they are connected.”

Owens frowned, not happy with the mystical-inspired nickname for the boxes SAI had managed to secure before getting their hands on this latest object.

“We only know of two people who have been able to open the boxes,” said Jarik. “You being one of them. If these objects are connected, it stands to reason that you might be able to activate this exhibitor as well.”

Alaalatoa didn’t seem to like the sound of this. “I strongly suggest we continue to study the object before we make any further attempts to activate it,” she said. “We still know next to nothing about its function or the limits of its power.”

Bano nodded. “I agree. Let’s put it through its paces before we try to meddle with it.”

Owens stepped closer to the platform containing the unassuming device not much larger than an isolinear chip. The power Alaalatoa had spoken of was undeniable and somewhat mesmerizing as well. He reached out and picked up the device.

“Sir, I really think we should—“

But Owens cut off the Bolian. “Give me the room.”

“Sir?” she said, sounding somewhat surprised.

The admiral exchanged a telling look with Jarik who offered him an acknowledging nod before the half-Vulcan turned to consider Bano and Alaalatoa. “We need the room. Everybody, we’ll convene in two hours to discuss our next steps. In the meantime, we are not to be disturbed.”

Bano still looked doubtful. “I don’t think that is wise.”

“Regardless, Commander,” Jarik said, offering the woman a small smile that appeared almost disturbing on his dark Vulcan features. “The admiral wishes to study the object in private. Considering his track record with the shard artifacts, I believe that is not an illogical approach.”

When the Bolian science officer was still not mollified by his words and the prospect of being shut out of her own discovery after everything she had gone through to obtain it in the first place, Jarik placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Susan, you did a truly outstanding thing in bringing this to us. But you always knew that the nature of the work we do here is extremely compartmentalized. Trust me, if we require any assistance, you’ll be the first person we call.”

Since it was obvious this was not an argument she could win, Bano begrudgingly left the room, following the rest of the science team, until Owens and Jarik were the last two persons remaining.

Jarik turned back towards the admiral who still held the small device in his hand, his body trembling ever so slightly as his eyes were squarely focused on it.

“Sir, I think that perhaps Susan is right about this,” he said. He had not been willing to raise his own doubts in front of the others but now that they were alone, he was clearly determined to say his piece. “This object appears more powerful than the shards and we studied those for years.”

“Your concerns are duly noted, old friend,” Owens said, even while he kept all his focus on the Exhibitor. “But something tells me that we don’t have that kind of time.”

“How do you know?”

He shook his head briefly. “I am not sure. It’s as if it’s speaking to me. It’s not in a language I fully understand. It’s not language at all, really. They are like … impressions. Even that is not quite the right word. I can feel its power, Jarik, it is astonishing.”

“Which makes it dangerous as well,” he said.

Owens nodded. “Oh yes, of that I have no doubt.”

“Please, be careful.”

The admiral regarded the man at his side, offering him a smile. “I have never

been afraid of power, Jarik. Now, brace yourself,” he said and glanced back at it. “It’s time to see what this object can do.”

Jarik quickly retrieved a specially adapted tricorder that had been designed by Bano and Alaalatoa to pick-up on the unique energy readings emitted by the mysterious shard objects contained in what the Bolian had liked to refer to as a Pandora’s Box. Although this artifact was clearly not another shard, it was clear that these objects were all connected in some form.

Owens was once more focusing on the oblong device in his hands and it began to stir. Owens cried out in pain and dropped onto his knees with Jarik immediately lowering himself at his side. “You need to let it go.”

But Owens shook his head. He had trouble speaking, using one hand to steady himself on the floor but kept a firm grasp on the device with his other. “No, it’s all right. Something is happening. I can feel it coursing through me.”

Jarik referred to his tricorder. “I see it. It’s establishing some sort of connection with you. Curious, this did not happen when I attempted to activate it,” he said and then looked back at Owens. “You appear to have an inherent aptitude interfacing with this device.”

“Just like … with the boxes,” he said between labored breaths.

“Can you summon the object itself?”

“I think so, hold on,” he said and closed his eyes.

A perfectly prism-shaped object shimmered into existence just above their heads. It was larger than it had been the last time Jarik had seen it, just after Bano had retrieved the Exhibitor. It still shimmered in a green light, spinning slightly on its axis like a projection. It was obviously much more than that.

Exhausted, Owens let the Exhibitor slip through his fingers and allowing it to fall to the floor but for now, his entire focus was on the geometric shape floating above, and with Jarik’s help he managed to get back onto his feet.

“It appears fully stable,” Jarik said, glancing at his tricorder before he looked back at the shape. “But I am not getting a clear reading of it. I cannot tell if it is a solid object or merely a projection of sorts.”

Owens stared right at it. “The Prism. It’s real.”

“You can sense it?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I think all I’m getting are surface impressions. It feels like a vast ocean and all I can perceive are a few drops. The amount of information contained in just the small fractions I have access to is incredible.”

“Can you determine its purpose?”

Owens took a step closer and then another until he stood right inside the Prism, the shape rotating around him. He gasped.

“Sir?” Jarik said concerned and made to follow him but was stopped when Owens raised a hand to keep him back.

“It’s just, there’s so much here. Past, present, future, other realities, they all seem to be contained within the Prism. It’s a window and what lies beyond seems more infinite than space itself.”

“That is too much knowledge even for us,” Jarik said.

Owens nodded slowly. “I agree. But there is something here, something it wants me to see,” he said and closed his eyes to focus on a specific thought.

Moments later the large holographic screens which surrounded the center of the room came to life, each one showing a stream of seemingly never-ending images of known and unknown people and animals, of starships and bases, of planets and stars until, all of a sudden, all screens display the same image. A massive ring-shaped structure floating in what looked like a mass of salmon-colored space. Small gaps within the structure made it seem that it was not yet fully completed.

“What is it?” Jarik said as he stepped closer to one of the screens.

Owens shook his head. “I am not sure. But I don’t think it is a good thing.”

The images shifted again, this time to reveal the builders of the structure, their tall, lean bodies wrapped into long cloaks and hoods and offering few glimpses at their pebbled and reptilian faces.

Jarik quickly glanced back at his tricorder to ensure the images were being recorded and to crosscheck everything they were being shown.

“I don’t recognize the species,” Owens said, staring at the screen.

But Jarik found a match. “We only have a single known encounter on record. Last year, in the Amargosa Diaspora, this race abducted members of the crew of the Enterprise to experiment on them. Their motivations were unclear but we know they are salonogen-based and live in subspace.”

“And now they are building a massive superstructure.”

Jarik glanced at Owens. “Could be an attempt to crossover into regular space. A possible incursion.”

He nodded slowly. “Something we would be entirely unprepared for.”

“Starfleet’s current focus is on the Borg and the Maquis,” said Jarik. “Securing resources to fully investigate this may be difficult.”

Owens seemed to consider that for a moment. Then he glanced back towards the Prism which still floated at the center of the room. “We may be able to find allies elsewhere,” he said as he stepped back into the Prism. “There are an infinite amount of universes out there and we may have found a way to connect to all of them.”

The screens once again began to show the rapid stream of images they had earlier, seemingly cycling through an endless amount of people and objects from an infinite amount of other universes.

When the stream finally came to a stop again, every screen displayed the face of a middle-aged and entirely bald-headed Deltan man wearing a Starfleet uniform.

“Assistant Director Altee of Starfleet Intelligence?” Jarik said after recognizing the man’s face.

“Not the man we know,” said Owens and stepped back out of the Prism.

“Why him?”

“I think he too is looking for allies beyond his own universe. And we have to start somewhere,” Owens said and glanced at one of the screens.

The image was no longer static and the Deltan appeared to be looking straight at Owens, he turned to look at somebody off-screen for a moment. “That’s it,” he said. “I think we’ve made contact with somebody. Maintain this frequency,” he said and looked back towards the screen. “Can you hear me?”

Owens nodded. “Yes, we can. Altee, I presume?”

“Yes. And you look very much like Admiral Owens. However, I have a feeling you are not that same self-important windbag I know, are you?”

Owens and Jarik exchanged looks before the admiral turned back towards Altee. “I sincerely hope not,” he said. “There’s much for us to talk about.”

“Yes, indeed,” the Deltan said with a smile. “And I cannot wait to get started.”
 
Part 2: Shattered



1


“Michael?”

He nodded at her and held her closer. He could feel her weight in his arms as they embraced, could smell her fragrance and when their lips touched, he could sense her skin, her warmth, her entire being.

None of those sensations lasted. With his eyes closed and his mind focused on the kiss they were exchanging, he could already feel her slipping away from him.

When he finally looked at her, Amaya Donners was dissolving in front of his eyes. “No, stay with me,” he heard himself beg.

But she wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Or rather, she was looking through him now, as if he no longer existed even while it was she who was fading out of reality. He tried to grab on tighter to her but in the end, all he came away with was empty air until even the specter of her appearance had dissolved into nothingness.

“Amaya,” he cried as if shouting her name loudly enough would force her to reappear.

He heard his voice endlessly reverberate in the dark void that had opened where she had been just moments ago.

She didn’t return but somebody else did.

The figure of Gene Edison suddenly swam into his vision. He was certain it was Edison even though much of his face was distorted and almost unrecognizable. His former friend and first officer didn’t linger either and instead, he too disappeared in much the same way Amaya had.

Edison was soon followed by other familiar faces: Tazla Star, DeMara Deen, So’Dan Leva, his father, Nora Laas, and at an increasingly faster pace, every single person he had ever known appeared in front of him, albeit briefly and only to vanish inside the void.

And it didn’t end there. Once they had all come and gone, other objects followed suit. The starship Agamemnon appeared only to be swallowed up by infinite nothingness. Then the Fearless, the first starship he had served on as an ensign fresh out of the Academy, followed by the Columbia, his first command and then ultimately Eagle herself. He watched stunned and helpless as Earth briefly manifested itself and then vanished, as did Andor, Vulcan, and Tenaria, entire stars and even galaxies disappeared until he started to feel the pull himself.

He tried to brace himself against it, tried to move away from the void but it was all for naught, the force of it was overwhelmingly strong.

As he approached the threshold and just before he was sucked inside, he realized that the outer edges of the dark, endless void were shaped like a perfect ring.

The darkness swallowed him whole just as the feeling of nothingness, of eternal solitude, insignificance, and misery began to take hold of him completely.

Michael awoke with a start to find himself lying on a biobed in sickbay.

The overhead lighting was such a stark contrast to the darkness he had been plunged into just a moment ago that he needed to bring up a hand to shield his eyes.

What he had experienced, it hadn’t felt like a dream at all. It was still so raw in his memory, the sensations so acute, touch, smell, sight, all of it felt as if it had truly happened and yet he knew that it couldn’t have been possible.

As his eyes were beginning to adjust to the light and he began to lower his arm again, he spotted a face entering his vision, looking down at him with a frown he quickly recognized and which made him wonder if Doctor Elijah Katanga had been off the day they had taught bedside manners at medical school.

“Look who has finally deigned to rejoin the land of the living,” he said before he consulted his readings displayed on the monitor above the biobed. “How do you feel?”

It took him a moment to find his voice. “Not as well as I would like, to be honest.”

At that Katanga actually offered a tiny smirk. “A starship captain admitting to his own weakness? Will wonders never cease?” He picked up a tricorder and began to scan him for additional details. “Although I’m sure you are still understating the matter, considering that you smashed right into a bulkhead and suffered a nasty concussion in the process.”

It was only now, that the dreamlike sensations and the associated dread were beginning to fade, that he was starting to feel his physical body, especially the pain from his bruises and his aching bones.

“I’ve treated the concussion and your vitals have almost fully recovered about an hour ago but I thought it best to keep you unconscious a while longer to give your body the chance to heal.”

“I wish you hadn’t,” Michael said. Considering the intensity of his visions, he would have gladly accepted any kind of physical pain in order to avoid that nightmare. He tried to push himself up on the bed but was forced to stop when his body began to protest his movements.

Katanga quickly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Easy now, your not really in shape to go gallivanting around yet.”

“You can give me something for the pain.”

That trademark frown was back on his face. “You know, pain can be a good thing, Captain. It reminds us of our limitations and when we need to slow down and let our bodies heal.”

Michael stared right at the octogenarian doctor.

It didn’t happen often but on this occasion, Michael won the wordless argument and Katanga backed down, reaching for a hypospray on a nearby tray and injecting it into his arm. The sensation was almost immediate and Michael could feel his body relax and the aches subside enough to allow him to sit up and swing his legs around. “Much better, thank you, Doctor.”

He nodded reticently, clearly not entirely happy. “You just take it easy for a few hours. I have little scruple to relieve a starship captain of active duty if I have to. Wouldn’t be the first time either.”

“I have no doubt,” he said and attempted to stand. Katanga actually had to steady him when he initially threatened to lose his balance. “Just a little dizzy from lying down so long,” he quickly said, preempting another lecture from the doctor.

He looked around sickbay and found Nora Laas and Xylion already sufficiently recovered to be sitting on their beds. Jarik also seemed to be awake, although he was still lying down. His father and Bensu still appeared to be unconscious.

“What happened after we beamed back on board?” Michael asked while he tried to search his memory, which remained fuzzy and mostly obscured by his recent dream vision. He recalled having been beamed back onto the ship from the Ring and thought to remember Star’s voice calling out but other than that he was having difficulties putting it all together.

“We went through yet another of those blasted portals. God knows where this one has deposited us. Thankfully we were a little bit more prepared this time. DeMara and I managed to inoculate the majority of the crew against the side effects we’ve seen last time we went through one of those things. I believe our industrious chief engineer and Taz managed to do the same for the ship itself.”

Michael nodded as he walked over to Xylion and Nora who had both gotten back onto their feet to huddle together. “How are the two of you?”

The Bajoran security officer gave him an affirmative nod. “I’ve had worse,” she said.

Michael offered her a smile. He was fairly certain that she was understating things much more than he had done earlier but then he wouldn’t have expected anything less from his tougher-than-nails security chief.

“The experience of passing through another gateway was unpleasant, however, I believe I have mostly recovered my strength,” the Vulcan said.

“Did either of you experience anything while you were out? Visions or dreams of any sort?”

Both Nora and Xylion answered in the negative and Michael didn’t get the impression that either of them was attempting to hide anything. Of course, this made the fact that he had been faced with such disturbing imagery all the more concerning.

He and Xylion approached Bensu next who remained unconscious on his biobed. “How about him, Doctor?”

Katanga brought up his tricorder again for additional scans but quickly shook his head. “Bensu is the only member of the away team who has not regained consciousness yet. Now, this isn’t necessarily a reason to be concerned. We already know that losing consciousness is a side effect from traversing these gateways and we still have a few people who remain affected by this.”

Michael moved on to his father.

“He has not suffered any serious injuries I have not been able to address and his vitals, including his brain patterns, are stable. Considering his recent medical history, however, I’d rather not wake him for now,” Katanga said in a tone which made it very clear that he was not going to have another argument about his prescribed medical treatments.

On this occasion, Michael decided that he was probably right.

A sudden scream caused both him and Katanga to whip around towards Bensu. He had awoken suddenly, his entire body shaking uncontrollably and only Xylion’s quick reaction, grabbing him by the shoulders, appeared to have kept him on top of his bed.

Nora quickly jumped to the other side of the bed to help the science officer to try and keep Bensu steady.

It appeared to be a tough fight, as Bensu’s body refused to stop shaking or screaming for that matter. His eyes were eerily wide open as if he had seen a ghost and yet they didn’t seem to be focused on anything.

Katanga and Michael quickly joined the others, as did a small group of nurses and med techs prompted to action by Bensu’s toe-curling screams.

“What’s wrong with him?” Michael asked as he watched the nurses and Katanga taking over for Xylion and Nora, trying desperately to hold down the thrashing man.

Katanga, however, was too busy giving instructions to his people, asking for various medical compounds that were hopefully going to calm him down.

It took a few minutes until they found the right combination of drugs to at least stop the screaming and the seizures but Bensu’s eyes remained wide open as he was mumbling incoherently.

It wasn’t until Michael managed to get closer to him that he could hear what it was he was saying over and over again. “The universe is dead. The universe is dead.”

It gave him chills mostly because he already suspected that he was exactly right. In some way he still couldn’t explain, the alternate universe they had visited had suddenly and unexpectedly been utterly annihilated, including Amaya Donners and every other person or object inhabiting it. It was still difficult for him to even grasp the full scope of this and its implications.

Bensu finally stopped his mantra and the seizures fully subsided, allowing a couple of nurses to place him onto his back again.

“Bensu, can you hear me?” Katanga asked a few times but although his eyes remained open, he didn’t seem responsive at all. The doctor looked at Xylion next. “Has he ever exhibited these kinds of symptoms before?”

“Not as far as I know,” Xylion said.

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Michael asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea. This is definitely a much more extreme reaction than we have seen previously. Most of his anatomy is still a mystery to me, although on the surface his vitals appear to be within a range I would ordinarily class as acceptable.”

“Bridge to sickbay.”

Michael looked towards the ceiling, recognizing Star’s voice.

“Is Captain Owens awake?”

“I am, Commander. How’s my ship?”

“Glad to hear your voice, sir. I would have hated to have to argue with Eli to have to wake you. We’ve taken some damage from our latest transition but not nearly as much as last time.”

“Understood, Commander. Are we back home?” he said and fought the urge to hold his breath. The short pause in Star’s response didn’t help matters.

“I think you better come up here and see for yourself.”

“I’ll be right there, Owens out,” he said and then looked at Katanga who he was sure was about to raise an objection. “You have another patient who will require your attention more urgently than I do,” he said and glanced at Xylion. “Commander, stay here for now and provide the doctor with any assistance you can dealing with Bensu.”

Xylion offered a brief nod, understanding that since he had been instrumental in creating Bensu’s synthetic body, he understood his physiology better than anyone else on board.

Michael wasted no time to get out of sickbay and before Katanga could try and find a reason to keep him contained.

The short journey to the bridge was not a pleasant one for him. Besides some ongoing dizziness and lingering aches, he was plagued by a multitude of disturbing thoughts, chief among them was the apparent destruction of the other reality which it now seemed they had managed to escape in the nick of time. He couldn’t stop thinking of Amaya having vanished in front of his eyes. He could also not shake the sensation of dread his vivid visions had left in him.

On top of all that, he was also worried about Bensu and his father’s health which had already shown signs of failing. The matter of the subspace aliens and their poor reaction to their attempts to communicate with them was also an ongoing concern and he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t a link to their unexpected behavior and the destruction of the alternate universe. He didn’t even want to think about the still unresolved threat of an invasion.

By the time he had reached the turbolift, he had resolved that he needed to face one crisis at a time, and for now, the most pressing concern was where the gateway had transported them to. He desperately hoped it had brought them back home but something in Star’s voice had made him doubt that.

Those fears were confirmed when he emerged from the turbolift and stepped onto the bridge to be greeted by another, familiar face displayed larger than life on the main viewscreen.

It belonged to a man who had been desperate to kill them all not too long ago and Michael felt an immediate tightness in his stomach upon seeing yet another version of Lif Culsten.
 
Oh, hell... they're going to be stuck in the starship version of Sliders. :eek: The thought that the entire universe they've just left has been completely annihilated is tragic beyond comprehension. And what could have caused that?
 
This tale gets more hair-raising with each installment! Now Eagle is careening through the multiverse? And they still haven't thwarted the subspace aliens' invasion plans, I might remind you.

And I'm curious about the AU they just left...was it really destroyed, or did it just seem like it?

Can't wait to see where this ride has stopped now...
 
2


There seemed to be no shortages of crises as of late, Michael mused, as he realized that after only just barely escaping the apparent annihilation of an entire universe, just after being nearly obliterated by a Krellonian fleet, they were, yet again, facing a very similar opponent, once more surrounded by a potential adversary.

The Culsten on the screen wasn’t currently paying attention to Eagle and the bridge crew, leading Michael to assume that even though they could see each other, the connection was temporarily muted, likely awaiting his arrival.

Star immediately turned to face him when he stepped down the incline connecting the aft turbolift to the command area at the center of the bridge. “Captain, good to see you back on your feet. Are you all right?”

“As good as can be given the circumstances. Bensu, it seems, is the only member of the away team who has been seriously affected. He is still unresponsive. My father was still unconscious when I left sickbay but the doctor assures me he should recover,” he said and then took a moment to glance around the bridge, finding it mostly in good shape and more or less the way he had last seen it, which certainly had not been a given considering their most recent experiences. Deen, Culsten, Leva, and Alendra were all at their stations with the helmsman paying particularly close attention to yet another double of his currently occupying the screen.

Michael wanted to inquire about the status of his ship and crew but considering that the other Culsten looked as if he was becoming somewhat impatient, he decided he needed to focus on the matter at hand.

Star seemed to understand this as well. “He and his ships, six in total, showed up just a few minutes ago. We were still trying to get sensors working after our arrival here.”

“Any ideas where we are?”

“Not yet,” she said. “But evidence suggests that we are neither where we were nor where we want to be.”

Michael nodded. “Good guess. First impressions on this version of Lif Culsten?”

“He goes by Sentinel Culsten. He hasn’t started shooting at us yet, which is always a plus. He’s confused as to where we’ve come from, which I suppose is understandable. I am not clear on their relationship with the Federation but I don’t think he’s particularly happy to see us,” she said. “I’ve made sure he didn’t get to see his counterpart.”

At that Lif Culsten at the helm turned around to look at his two superior officers, looking somewhat grateful for that decision. One could hardly blame him considering his recent experiences with his double from an alternate universe.

“Let’s keep it that way for now. At least until we know more about who we are dealing with this time,” Michael said and glanced towards Leva at tactical, giving him a nod to reopen the channel.

The tactical officer confirmed with a bop of his head that the connection had been reestablished.

Michael tugged at the bottom of his uniform jacket and redirected his focus towards the screen. “Greetings, I’m Captain Michael Owens of the starship Eagle. Sentinel Culsten, I presume.”

“Indeed. And please accept my gratitude for deciding to join us,” he said, his tone sharp, calculated, and containing noticeable sarcasm.

“I apologize for the delay but it was unavoidable. We have arrived here not entirely of our own volition.”

That seemed to catch his interest. “Sounds to me you’ve got a story to tell, Captain.”

“I suppose we do.”

“I appreciate that this region is technically neutral space but you can understand that we would be somewhat concerned about Starfleet activity in this area, particularly since you have never shown an interest in the Diaspora before. Frankly, I would think Starfleet is far too preoccupied these days to venture all the way out here.”

Michael and Star exchanged brief glances, neither of them certain what he was referring to before he looked back at the Krellonian. “We don’t expect to remain in the area for long, Sentinel. And I can assure you that we have no intention of venturing anywhere near Krellonian space.”

Culsten smirked. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been concerned about Starfleet activity. But I want to make something very clear to you; we have no interest whatsoever in getting involved in your internal affairs and the Star Alliance is on good standing with the Nyberrite Alliance. Having said that, I am curious to find out what brought you here. Your vessel appears to have taken damage. I would be willing to offer technical assistance to any of your vital systems.”

“That’s very gracious of you, Sentinel,” Michael said, even if he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he was referring to. He knew of the Nyberrite Alliance, of course. In their home universe, which clearly wasn’t this one, it was an organization not too dissimilar of the Federation, albeit far smaller, made up of a dozen or so member worlds which had banded together to create their own space force dedicated mostly to defense. Michael had never visited their space since it was located at the far end of Federation territory, but he knew that they were known for their willingness to recruit skilled people from any background.

Their last experience with the Krellonians still fresh in his memory, he was rather disinclined of repeating that episode and decided that keeping them at a safe distance was probably the smarter play. “However, I believe we have repairs well in hand over here. Once they are complete, we will be getting on our way again.”

Culsten seemed to consider this for a moment. “In that case, I’d like to extend an invitation to you and your senior officers to visit my ship as guests while you carry out your repairs,” he said and then continued when he apparently noticed Michael’s unspoken reluctance. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can do it the other way around, I’d be happy to visit your ship instead. I haven’t heard a good story in a while and one look of you is telling me that yours won't disappoint.”

Michael didn’t like either suggestion but he was getting the distinct impression that this Culsten wasn’t a man who liked to be turned down and as it stood, Eagle was in no condition to get into another fight. So he nodded. “Very well, we’d be honored to have you come onboard, Sentinel.”

Culsten was all smiles. “Outstanding. I’ll beam over within a standard hour and once we’ve received your coordinates,” he said and then vanished from the screen.

Michael took a small breath and considered his officers. “Thoughts?”

“I say that for him, he certainly is nothing like the last version of Lif we’ve encountered,” Deen said.

“I don’t like him,” said Culsten.

“He seemed friendly enough,” offered Alendra who had stepped up from one of the aft stations she usually manned.

“Too friendly,” Leva quickly added. “He’s fully aware that he has the tactical advantage and he may see our presence here as a threat.”

“If he wanted us gone, he could have attacked us already. The fact that he is willing to beam onboard doesn’t speak of hostile intentions since he risks becoming a hostage should hostilities ensue,” said Alendra, causing the two officers to glower at each other for a moment.

Michael turned to his first officer for an opinion.

“I think it’s clear he has an agenda. But this is also our best opportunity to learn more about where we are.”

Michael nodded. “I’d rather not stay here any longer than we absolutely have to, Commander. But I have to admit, part of me is curious to learn where exactly we have landed this time. Our main priority, however, must remain clear. We need to get back home and stop the subspace aliens using that Ring. What’s our current status?”

“Better than last time we went through a gateway,” she said. “However, sensors, shields, and warp engines are still down. Louise is working on them now in that order and last I spoke to her she is optimistic that all ship functions will be restored within a couple of hours. About five percent of the crew is unconscious but we suffered no serious injuries in the transition.”

Michael nodded, appreciating hearing some positive news for a change. “We need to get up and running again as soon as possible and find a way to return to in-between space. If the Ring is capable of destroying entire universes, our mission has just become a whole lot more critical.”

“Are we absolutely positive that’s what happened?” Star said.

“Right now there’s nothing we can be absolutely positive about. Bensu seems to be the only person who can answer a lot of these questions and he is not responsive at the moment. For now, let’s see if we can get these Krellonians off our back and return to our mission,” he said and glanced towards the other Culsten sitting at the helm. “Lif, I want you to remain out of sight while your counterpart is onboard. The same goes for Garla. In fact, I want the guards around her doubled. We can’t have her go off again the same way she did last time.”

“She won’t.”

“See to it, please.”

Culsten nodded and left his post to ensure his orders were carried out and to keep a close eye on his aunt.

Michael turned back to his first officer. “All right, let’s get ready to welcome our guest. I don’t want him to get the impression we are hiding anything but we can’t tell him the truth either.”

Star smiled. “Once upon a time, that’s exactly how I used to make a living.”
 
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I'm very curious as to what the situation with this universe's Federation is. From what this alt-Lif is saying, it sounds like the UFP may be in a spot of trouble with someone or something.
 
Maybe the Dominion War is still in effect. There are limitless possibilities when it comes to a writer's imagination.
 
Yeah, no. Not trusting this smarmy new version of Culsten. Don't drop your napkin on the floor at dinner, 'cause he'll probably put his steak knife in your back as soon as you bend over!

However, he offered a clue regarding who or what is keeping this Starfleet so busy. If you notice there was a rather cryptic reference to the Nyberrite Alliance. Maybe they're a force to be reckoned with in this AU?

In the meantime, let's hope Eagle and her crew can stop their Flying Dutchman routine and ah, "move along home".
 
3


Jarik was waiting for him outside the transporter room as he was making his way to receive their Krellonian guest, shadowed closely by a security officer and Michael couldn’t help but frown at seeing a man who he had once counted as one of his closest friends. It seemed like a very long time ago now.

He shook his head even before he started to talk, already guessing what he had planned. “You are not taking part in this meeting,” he said resolutely.

“I believe it is important that I do.”

Michael stepped up closer, nearly invading his personal space, but he wanted to make sure that there could be no misconstruing his next words. “You should consider yourself lucky that I haven’t confined you to quarters after what you’ve done.”

Jarik didn’t speak right away, instead, he simply regarded him for a moment. “Everything I’ve done was what I believed to be in the best interest of the mission which, in case you had forgotten, is to ensure, not just the safety of the Federation but perhaps of our entire galaxy.”

“Yes, and how has that gone so far? What price have we paid to ensure our own safety? We were just witnesses to the destruction of an entire universe.”

“We don’t know that for certain.”

“I think we got a pretty good idea.”

Jarik seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts, or perhaps consider an alternative strategy since whatever he was doing at present didn’t appear to work. “I thought you might want to know that your father is awake.”

It was a cheap shot, Michael understood that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel thankful to hear that news and found himself nodding slightly. Things had progressed so rapidly ever since he had recovered from his own episode that he had not found the time to check on him. “How is he?”

“Still weak and restricted to sickbay but your doctor seems to think he should be back on his feet soon.”

Michael knew that if his father had not managed to escape Katanga and sickbay yet, he truly was sick, considering how he had successfully stood up to the veteran physician earlier even though his health had clearly not warranted his premature medical release.

“With your father still recovering, I am the ranking officer on this ship, Michael. I also have significant insight into the Krellonians from my research of this sector of space—and granted, I know these aren’t our Krellonians, but we’ve established obvious parallels between universes already.”

Michael glared at the other man. “I want to make one thing very clear to you. I no longer recognize your authority. Not since you threatened to assault my ship to take over command. And the moment this mission is over and we are back in our universe, I will make sure that you’ll face a court-martial for your actions.”

If those words had affected Jarik, he did well to hide it. “You do what you need to do. In the meantime, I do what I have to. And I have to be at this meeting.”

Michael was sick of arguing and somewhere deep down he felt like he didn’t care anymore what Jarik did or didn’t do. “I don’t know what working for my father did to you over all those years but I don’t even recognize the man you used to be.”

“We all change, Michael.”

“Yeah,” he said and nodded. “Some of us more than others.” With that, he turned towards the transporter room and stepped inside, Jarik following him.

Tazla Star and Nora Laas were already waiting for them inside. Michael had decided to keep the delegation meeting with Culsten as small as possible, considering how poorly things had gone the last time they had run into a counterpart of their helmsman.

Nora stood by the freestanding computer console, next to transporter chief Chow. “Sir, the Krellonian lead ship is awaiting our go-ahead to initiate transport.”

Michael exchanged a quick look with Star who in response subtly indicated towards Jarik, which Michael simply acknowledged with an annoyed expression, making it clear that his presence hadn’t been his idea. Star, it seemed, got the message: Keep an eye on him.

“We’re ready on our end. Give the word,” Michael said.

Nora gave Chow the nod and then stepped around the console to join the others as they took position to face the transporter platform.

A green-blue beam shimmered into existence on the dais, which quickly began to coalesce into the familiar body of Lif Culsten. The sentinel wore a dark, form-fitting uniform that showed off his splendid physique and he wore his silver hair much shorter than their Culsten, showing off his earless head. He glanced around for a moment with what appeared genuine curiosity before he found the captain.

“Welcome aboard, Sentinel,” Michael said.

“Thank you for having me,” Culsten said and took the two steps down the podium.

“I might be mistaken, but I believe this may be how you say ‘hello’,” Michael said and then pressed his palms together, pointing his fingers in his direction.

Culsten followed the gesture. “Quite correct, Captain. You honor me by showing such knowledge of my people. Not something I’ve come to expect from those hailing from the Federation.”

Michael acknowledged this with a quick nod before turning to his officers. “I believe you’ve already met my first officer, Tazla Star. This is my security chief Nora Laas and Jarik.”

Culsten repeated the greeting gesture for each member of the delegation. “A pleasure to meet you all,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if I left my entourage behind. I thought it is best to have a more intimate conversation.”

“That suits us just fine, Sentinel. Why don’t we head somewhere more suited for that conversation,” Michael said and pointed towards the doors.

Culsten nodded and headed into that direction, stepping through the doors and onto the corridor where Michael led him towards the nearest turbolift.

Their guest seemed to be taking in his surroundings with great interest. “This is quite a fine ship you have here, Captain. Nebula-class, I believe?”

“That is correct,” he said.

“As I mentioned before, we don’t come across many Starfleet vessels out here so you can understand my curiosity as what has brought you so far from your own borders,” he said as the five of them stepped into the turbolift.

Star ordered the lift to take them to the observation lounge on deck two.

“Our mission out here is highly classified, which means, unfortunately, we are not able to share any of the details with you,” said Jarik, immediately garnering him a subtle scowl from Michael. He too thought it was the right approach to keep the more spectacular details of their unusual journeys to themselves for now, but Jarik’s tact was unnecessarily undiplomatic.

“As a sentinel, I can appreciate the importance of operational security,” Culsten said.

“I believe I have some, albeit limited, understanding of what a sentinel does,” said Star. “And forgive me for saying this, but you appear fairly young for such a position.”

Michael had wondered the same thing, after all, this Lif Culsten appeared very much the same age as their own. Certainly, he looked physically fitter and his darker eyes seemed to speak to a man who had been exposed to a far wider range of experiences than their helmsman, and yet he would have been surprised to learn if Sentinel Culsten was more than thirty years old, certainly much younger than Garla.

“No offense taken. But I can assure you, I have more than earned my position. Some of my enemies in the past have underestimated me because of my youth. I can say without embellishment or conceit that most have come to regret this. You see I had an excellent teacher whom I admired a great deal. I took up her mantle when she was tragically killed.”

Michael had an inkling who that teacher may have been.

“Now that you know a bit more about me, it’s time we talk about you,” he said quickly. “And since you are operating so close to our borders, in an area of space neither of your Starfleets normally operate in, I feel I am entitled to a few answers.”

Michael and Star exchanged a surprised look by his turn of phrase before they disembarked from the lift and shortly thereafter stepped into the observation lounge, which afforded them a great view of the area directly aft of the ship.

Michael hoped that the threshold into in-between space was still somewhere out there but the quickly developing events over the last few hours had prevented them from trying to find it again.

He pointed at one of the seats around the conference table. Culsten was happy to take up the offer with the rest of the group quickly sitting down around him.

“I’ve been wondering, Captain,” Culsten said after he had taken his seat. “Which faction exactly do you belong to? Guardians? Or is your allegiance with the Preservers?”

Michael had no idea what he was talking about but guessed that it related to some sort of political group unique to this universe.

“We are with the Guardians,” Jarik said.

Michael shot him a look, not sure if to be thankful for his quick thinking or upset that he had just, quite possibly, dug them into a hole by offering such a blatant untruth.

“I see,” said Culsten. “I’m sure you understand that the Krellonian Star Alliance must remain neutral in your conflict.”

Michael nodded. “We are not here to look for allies, I assure you.”

“Good. Now then, why are you here?” he said and then quickly raised a hand. “I don’t need to know about your classified details. But a sudden appearance of a Starfleet vessel in the Amargosa Diaspora will need to be explained to my superiors.”

“What if we were to say that we are on a scientific expedition?” said Star.

Michael liked that. And it wasn’t exactly a complete fabrication, more like a significant understatement.

It didn’t go over as well with Culsten, however. Or at least, Michael thought it didn’t but he couldn’t tell exactly since the Krellonian had started to laugh out loud. He caught himself again quickly. “I apologize for my outburst but I don’t think anyone in this quadrant is going to believe that Starfleet is still in the business of dedicating capital ships to scientific undertakings. Not even the Guardians.”

The more he was hearing about this version of Starfleet, the less he liked the sound of it, and the more desperate he was to find a way to get out of this universe as soon as possible. This time, hopefully, without it tearing itself apart in their wake.

“Unless, of course,” Culsten said. “You are working on some sort of weapon in order to get the upper hand over the Preservers. Now that I could believe. And it would concern me at the same time.”

“We are not working on a weapon,” Michael said but couldn’t help think that even that was not entirely the truth. What else could have been responsible for the terrible fate of an entire universe?

More than ever he understood that they had to find answers to that question as soon as possible and before the same fate could befall any other reality. A task made more difficult with Culsten’s fleet surrounding them.

The sentinel considered him carefully as if trying to peer right through his eyes and for a brief moment, Michael feared that perhaps, in this universe, Krellonians were telepaths. “I want to believe you, Captain, I really do. But all I have for now is your word on that.”

“What else would you require?” said Star.

He seemed to think that over for a moment, or at least make a show of it. “A full inspection of your crew and ship would go a long way to show your cooperation and trustworthiness.”

“Out of the question,” Jarik said so sharply, all eyes in the room turned towards the half-Vulcan. “We were more than happy to cooperate with you so far, allow you to come on our vessel, and have a polite conversation about your concerns. But the truth of the matter remains that this is neutral space. We have as much right to be here as you do.”

“I have not disputed that,” said Culsten, his tone remaining civil but starting to show signs of an edge.

“An inspection of this ship is crossing a line. You have no authority in this area of space and judging by the fact that you have not attempted to force the issue yet, tells me that you will not resort to force without explicit approval from your government.”

Culsten now glared at the other man. “Do not make the mistake to confuse my courtesy for weakness.”

“I suggest we end this now,” Jarik said, looking at Michael. “The sentinel here clearly has his own agenda and we are not in the least interested in allowing it,” he said and looked back at Culsten. “So let us part ways to allow us all to continue with our respective tasks.”

Michael was about to object to Jarik’s bold and, in his opinion, unnecessarily blunt suggestions when Culsten stood from his chair. “Very well, I can see this has been a waste of my time,” he said and looked towards Michael. “He’s right. I won’t attempt to force the issue for now. Carrying out an assault on a Federation starship in neutral territory is not worth the paperwork I’ll need to file. But I know your up to something out here, starships don’t just show up out of nowhere. So I am going to stay right here and keep a very close eye on you to make sure that I find out exactly what that is,” he said and then turned on his heel to head for the doors.

Michael could tell there was little point in trying to get him back to the table so he indicated for Nora to escort him back to the transporter room.

The security chief nodded sharply and then quickly got up out of her chair to chase after Culsten who was apparently so annoyed, he didn’t want to wait on anybody.

Once both were out of the room, Michael turned towards Jarik, trying hard to keep his own rising irritation in check. “What the hell was that?” He didn’t do a great job at it.

Jarik didn’t seem concerned about being the target of his ire. “There was little point to continue this dance. He was merely looking for an excuse to search the ship, something we can not allow.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael shot back. “And perhaps we could have found a compromise if we had continued to talk, an opportunity which you blatantly sabotaged with your accusations.”

“Tell me, Mister Jarik,” said Star, not sounding quite as upset as her captain but her eyes reflecting a similar annoyance. “Is diplomacy not a trait held in high esteem in the Department of Special Affairs or is it that you are just dead awful at it?”

Jarik stood. “Diplomacy is not going to get us anywhere in this situation.”

“I see,” Michael said. “But having an irritated and distrustful Krellonian senior official and his fleet shadowing our every move does?” Michael said.

“There’ll be other opportunities.”

Michael looked at him dumbfounded before he slowly turned to Star. “Remind me to keep Mister Jarik away from any future meetings with the Krellonians or anyone else for that matter. In fact, let’s make sure he doesn’t have any off-ship communication privileges from this point forward.”

Star reached for a padd on her desks and typed in a few commands. “Done.”

“You are making a mistake,” Jarik said. “I can still be helpful.”

Michael shook his head. “If this is the help you can offer then I think we are all set without you. You have shown repeatedly that you cannot be trusted. I am not entirely clear what you are trying to accomplish but this will mark the last time you will be involved in any decisions pertaining to this ship and her mission.”

“You are making a—“

“You are dismissed,” Michael said, cutting him off and indicating to the security guard who had been assigned to him.

She promptly stepped up behind him, making it unmistakably clear that he was to follow her at once.

Jarik hesitated just a moment longer before he turned to the exit and left, his guard one step behind him.

Michael uttered a heavy sigh once he was gone. “I knew it was a mistake to include him. I just wish I had listened to myself.”

“I’ll remind you to stay true to your instincts next time,” Star said.

“Thanks.”

“What now?”

Michael wished he knew. He left his chair and walked over to the large windows currently showing little more than the star-filled space of the Amargosa Diaspora which, as in his universe, was bright and colorful. Somewhere, in the not so far distance, he hoped the threshold leading back to the Ring still remained. But no matter how close it was, with half a dozen ships surrounding them, it was next to impossible to reach it undetected. “We need to figure out what the hell happened back there. In the other universe. How the Ring factored into all that and if it is even still there.”

Star stood as well. “It better be. It might be our only way back home.”

Michael turned to face her and nodded. “We need to understand where we stand and collect theories on what happened and how we can stop it from happening again. Bensu would be a real asset to that conversation but I don’t believe he has recovered yet.”

“I take it we are excluding Jarik.”

“Absolutely.”

Michael noticed her becoming pensive. “You disagree?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, not at all. That man is clearly a menace in more ways that one. It just struck me that for all his bluster and boisterousness, he was right about one thing.”

Michael nodded slowly, realizing it now as well. “He knew that Culsten was not going to make a move against us. Could have been a lucky gamble on his part.”

“Perhaps,” she said, clearly not fully convinced.
 
The Guardians and the Preservers... I think we've seen them before. I liked the meetings with Culsten's double. I still don't like Jarik. Can Owens change his cabin assignment to an airlock or something? I sense a tense situation happening soon. Batten down the hatches, people. CeJay is going to continue to blow our minds!
 
Aha... I know exactly which AU this is. I can't wait to see if Michael has to interact with this Starfleet. I can assure you he's not gonna like what he finds...

Wow. How are they going to get home? What if the portal doesn't exist here? And what if the next stop is even worse?

Eager for the next chapter!
 
4


“I just don’t like that thing.”

DeMara turned to glance at Nora Laas who stood a few meters behind her in the science lab, arms defiantly crossed in front of her chest and her gaze firmly fixed on the pedestal which securely contained the Exhibitor covered by a force field.

Besides the Bajoran, there were an additional four armed security guards in the lab, as to Commander Star’s orders. Nobody wanted to take chances with this incredibly powerful artifact.

“It very likely saved all our lives,” said DeMara. “Without it, we may not have been able to escape whatever happened to the other universe.”

Nora held up a hand. “Don’t even go there, please. Bad enough that we’re traveling through other realities and encountering people we should have never come across in the first place.”

DeMara was fairly certain that she was particularly upset about meeting one specific person she should never have met under normal circumstances.

“Now we might be dealing with entire universes falling apart as if they were nothing more than a house of cards,” she said. “I cannot even start contemplating such a thing without my brain wanting to kill itself. It’s certainly not the kind of thing I thought I’d be dealing with when I signed up for Starfleet.”

“None of us expected something like that,” DeMara said. “But that’s part of why we’re doing this. Starfleet is about the unexpected.”

Nora just frowned. “There’s the unexpected and then there is this.”

She nodded slowly as she turned back to look at the Exhibitor, the unassuming little device which was able to summon the Prism, a yet to be fully understood phenomenon which could, somehow, create gateways into other universes when activated near the Ring superstructure. She had spent the last few hours, along with Xylion and a small army of science personnel to try and study the device in more detail but their efforts had been stymied by the fact that they were not able to activate the Exhibitor themselves. Apparently, this could only be accomplished by the Admiral, Michael’s father, who currently was in no condition to do so again.

Michael had called for a meeting to share their findings so far and Xylion had left to prepare but for the moment it appeared they still had far more questions than answers to give. It didn’t help that the one person who had, inexplicably, been able to provide any kind of answers at all, was still in sickbay, fading in and out of consciousness.

“And I certainly don’t care for the strange sensation it emits. Is there nothing you can do to at least dampen it?” the security chief asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing has been proven successful to shield the radiation it emits. At least Doctor Katanga has confirmed that it appears benign.”

In response, Nora took a small step back from the device, apparently not at all put at ease by that statement. DeMara didn’t blame her for her cautiousness. But her scientific curiosity, not to mention their desperate need to fully understand how this Prism worked, kept her close to it, staring at the device as if it would reveal its secrets at any moment.

That’s when the ship trembled so suddenly, everyone in the room lost their balance as the lights in the lab began to flicker.

Nora had her phaser out at a moment’s notice and so did the rest of the security team, all of them jumping to high alert, expecting imminent danger.

“What was that?” Nora asked.

DeMara had no immediate answer.

“Are the Krellonians attacking?”

“I’m not sure, but it didn’t feel like a conventional weapon that hit us.”

The red alert lights and klaxon came to live, only to immediately die down again, along with all lights and computer consoles, plunging the science lab into sudden darkness.

“By the Prophets, what’s going on here?” Nora said.

“Deen to bridge.”

But there was no response.

DeMara tried her combadge next, trying to circumvent the ship’s internal comm. system, but the results were the same. Nora attempted the same but received nothing but a dull chirp in response, indicating a malfunction.

Emergency lighting along with the flashing crimson red alert strobes returned to finally illuminate their surroundings again but communications remained dead.

Nora indicated for her people to spread out across the room.

“What are you thinking?” DeMara asked her.

“A sudden systems and comms failure?” she said as she began to slowly round the room. “Textbook approach for a boarding mission.”

“The Krellonians don’t even know about the Prism.”

“I guess they found out.”

Sounds from the main entrance to the lab immediately directed all their attention to the doors. With main power apparently down, somebody was attempting to force them open from the outside.

Nora gave more instructions and her team took up positions to cover the door and blast whoever was trying to make their way inside.

Since DeMara didn’t have a weapon on her, she kept close to Nora. “What’s the plan?” she whispered.

“Stay back. The moment the doors open wide enough, we start shooting,” she said and trained her weapon on the point where the two still closed door panels met.

DeMara took cover behind the pedestal with the device. The proximity to it caused her skin to tingle but that seemed preferable at the moment to getting hit by crossfire.

Nora raised her free hand to indicate to her people to get ready to fire on her signal.

The panels began to part a few centimeters, not enough for a clear line of fire but it did allow a few fingers to push into the gap.

A moment later the gap widened and Nora was just about ready to give the signal to start shooting.

“Wait,” DeMara said when she thought she recognized something and then stood.

Nora shot her an annoyed glance.

“Look,” she said.

The panels opened wider to reveal a face. It was a distinctly Trill woman with bright red hair.

“Somebody help with this blasted door,” Tazla Star said.

Nora holstered her weapon and quickly stepped up to the panels and a moment later DeMara joined her as well. Together, the three of them managed to push the panels aside enough to let Star enter.

DeMara was just about to let go of the panels again when she noticed that the commander had not come alone. Jarik and Jonathan Owens had accompanied her and also slipped inside.

Owens looked pale, even in the weakened light, and needed Jarik’s help to steady himself. “Admiral, I don’t think you should be out of sickbay,” she said. Differently to Michael, DeMara had always enjoyed a very good relationship with his father who had embraced her with open arms when she had come to Earth as the first of her people to attend Starfleet Academy. Of course, back then most people she had encountered had responded mostly positively to her.

“He’ll be fine,” Jarik said and Owens nodded lamely.

It didn’t inspire her with much confidence.

“What happened?” Nora asked Star as soon as she had made it all the way into the lab.

“It’s the Krellonians. Our meeting with them didn’t go as well as we would have liked and they got fed up with waiting around. They struck us with some sort of EMP weapon.”

“That explains why our systems crashed,” DeMara said.

“We need to prepare for what’s coming next,” Star staid and glanced at Nora. “I need you and your people to get ready to repel borders and keep anyone from entering the lab,” she said and then looked at DeMara. “You are needed on the bridge.”

DeMara looked at her and then Jarik and Owens. “What are you planning to do?”

“We may need to use the artifact to get us out of this mess,” she said.

“But we need to act quickly.”

“How exactly are you proposing to do that?” she asked, somewhat confused by this proposed plan, considering that the science team so far had not been able to shed any additional light on the device or the Prism artifact.

“SAI has studied this object far longer than you have, Lieutenant,” Jarik said sharply. “We believe we know what we are doing and it might be our only way to survive going up against the Krellonians who outnumber us six to one.”

DeMara remained skeptical. “I should stay and help where I can.”

“I appreciate the assistance,” Star said. “But we have no time for this and you're needed urgently on the bridge.” She glanced over to Nora and her people who were also still in the room. “Come on, people, you have your orders. Let’s move it.”

“I’d be more comfortable to keep a team close by,” Nora said.

Star nodded. “Fine. But keep them outside the lab. They’d only be a distraction in here when we activate the artifact.”

The security chief frowned but then followed her orders. Her people quickly managed to pry the doors open again and one by one they slipped out of the lab with DeMara the last person to push herself through but not before shooting one last glance towards the lab where she could see Star and Jarik approaching the device.

“Is it just me or did that sound like a very odd plan?” Nora asked once they were back in the corridor outside the lab.

DeMara was still staring at the now-closed doors again. “Not just odd,” she said. “Irresponsible, too. We’ve already seen what this artifact can do.”

“You think they’re trying to make us jump universes again?”

“I’m not sure if it’s possible without being in the vicinity of the Ring. And without the proper preparations, it could be incredibly dangerous.”

Nora nodded. “I remember that first jump. I wish I didn’t. I still haven’t fully shaken the nightmares it gave me.” She was pensive for only a moment. “Anyway, we have our orders and if the Krellonians are attacking us, we need to get ready. You better get back to the bridge.”

In truth, she didn’t want to leave the lab but she understood that her priorities needed to shift and that her expertise was likely put to better use on the bridge to fend off a Krellonian assault. She nodded and they headed for the nearest turbolift. They made it halfway down the corridor when the lights came back on.

DeMara stopped and looked at Nora, both of them seemingly having the same idea and immediately called the bridge.

This is Star, what’s your status?”

DeMara and Nora exchanged surprised looks at hearing the first officer’s voice.

“Commander?” Nora said.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed. “We’re pretty busy up here. What do you need?”

“Sir, are you presently on the bridge?” DeMara said, still giving the security chief a perplexed look.

“You called the bridge, I answered. What do you think? Are we done playing games now?”

DeMara and Nora turned around to look at the still-closed doors to the science lab. Without having to utter a word, they both set out in a dead run towards them.

Although power had been restored, the door panels refused to budge as they approached.

“They have been sealed from the inside,” DeMara realized.

As the head of security, Nora had an override code to open pretty much any door on the ship and once she had provided the computer with her authorization, the doors hissed open.

The lab was empty.

DeMara immediately headed for the pedestal but the Exhibitor was gone.

“Commander, are we under attack by the Krellonians?” she asked.

“We don’t believe so. It appears they have been affected in the same manner as we have. We are still trying to figure out what happened.”

DeMara and Nora looked at each other again before the Tenarian spoke. “Sir, I think we have another problem.”
 
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