Chapter 1

1963 Caribbean Sea-Northwest Bahamas

K-222 Soviet Echo I Class Nuclear Cruise Missile Submarine

Captain Gorshkov wiped perspiration from his forehead. It was a small matter. He was used to moisture everywhere; moisture in his eyes, moisture in his hair and clothes, moisture on the instruments. The ping of the sonar became steadier. "Depth," he demanded.

"One thousand meters, Captain."

"Captain I recommend we halt our descent and level off."

Gorshkov ignored his first officer. "Status of target?"

"Object is dead ahead, twelve hundred meters, sir."

"Continue the dive five hundred meters then level off. I want to see it up close."

The men were silent as the sub continued to drop down through the murky water. The creaking of the steel and titanium hull reminded the crew of what they already knew; they were too deep. So much for the promised shore leave in Cuba. Now they were committed, but to what, they could only guess.

"We are at eight hundred meters and closing."

"Halt," shouted, Captain Gorshkov leaning over his navigator. "Judging by the sonar image, Captain, the object is nearly 200 meters long, sir."

"Nothing but a sunken ship," Gorshkov muttered under his breath. There were rumors of a WWI American naval ship overloaded with 11,000 tons of manganese ore for armaments. The ship was thought to have sunk somewhere roughly in this vicinity. But then again, this was the Bermuda Triangle, and rumors and all kinds of nonsensical theories were commonplace.

"Captain!"

"Silence! What is that?"

There was an odd creaking and then the interior of the sub grew quiet. Too quiet. Suddenly, instruments began popping and springing out of their places, glass began to crack.

"Outer hull breach!"

There was no point in asking how, because there was simply no time to waste. "Blow the ballast tanks!" shouted Captain Gorshkov. There was a rushing sound as seawater from the flooded ballast tanks was quickly being replaced by air. But something was wrong, and instead of rising to the surface, the ship began sinking further and further down in a twisting path.

"Inner hull is breached!"

Captain Gorshkov grabbed a railing just as the water began to burst inward. Two crewmen struggled to close a safety hatch, but were blown backwards onto the deck as water powered onto the bridge. The water swept the men violently into the command center. As the bridge lights were extinguished and just before he was killed by a powerful jet of sea water, the Captain believed that he could see the swirling water glowing with thousands of tiny green lights.

"Captain's Log: Star Date 42356.2. The Enterprise is returning from the Beta Quadrant where a distress call we were assigned to investigate turned out to be an apparent false alarm. According to the small unaffiliated trading ship we encountered whose captain admitted his ship was the source of the distress call, the false alarm was caused by 'mechanical tampering and attempted sabotage' on board his ship. Although I am skeptical of such a suspicious explanation, the ship turned out to be non-Federation, and without further obvious cause for concern we simply didn't have the authority to investigate further.

The Enterprise has now plotted a return course to Earth to pick up Chief Medical Officer Doctor Beverly Crusher, who has finished her role in the rebuilding of Starfleet Medical, following devastating Borg attacks several months ago. Along the way we are scheduled to rendezvous with the USS Columbia to pick up our new Chief of Security."

Captain Picard turned at his ready room desk at the sound of insistent beeping. He took a deep breath before answering. He knew exactly who was calling him, but he found that as much as he longed to reunite with Beverly Crusher, he had no desire to continue an argument he had been re-hashing with her for nearly a month. So far, neither of them had won. Just a few days ago she had called and berated him again for agreeing to accept the transfer request of Lieutenant Natasha Yar.

It had been arguably the worst fight he'd had with Beverly since returning from the Q Continuum several months ago. Given the events that had taken place during those months, he was understanding of and sympathetic with her fears. But it was time for everyone who had experienced that upheaval to begin moving on. Sighing he pressed a pad on his desk, striving to keep his expression as reasonable as possible.

Her image blinked onto the screen immediately, but his joy at seeing her beauty was dampened slightly by her serious expression. "Beverly—"

"First of all, I'm sorry," she said quickly, apparently unconcerned with the usual salutations. "As Captain, of course it is your choice who you think should be part of this crew."

Oh. Not the of course it's your choice but you're still wrong approach again. He consciously avoided palming his face in frustration. "Beverly—"

"Please just let me finish."

He lifted his open palms, unsure if he even wanted to get a word in. "By all means…."

"You are bringing a potential time bomb on board your ship. And there is no excuse, Jean-Luc, because we all know what she is capable of! I can't believe that you would make a decision like this knowing that your son is coming on board—she nearly had Wesley killed Jean-Luc, and I know you haven't forgotten, because you are the one who saved him."

He merely sat in silence. Perhaps the longer she was allowed to vent, the more she would come to forgive him and his decision, coming to terms with it at last. Or perhaps not...

"And she nearly killed Jack. And Jean-Luc, if I had lost you…I just don't know," she trailed off as her voice began to break.

He cleared his throat. "But you didn't lose me. I'm here. And soon you'll be back on board and we can be together again. Isn't that what we both have wanted for so long?"

"Yes," she whispered, wiping at her eyes.

"Well, alright then-" But his dismay, she had gathered herself and picked up steam again.

"And Seth…I just worry for him too, Jean-Luc. He's been through so much. We're his new family and we need to protect him, not surround him with danger."

Picard shook his head. "Beverly, Seth has no idea who Yar is—or rather was when she had the power of the Q. And I certainly have no intention of telling him. The boy has enough to deal with as it is." Seth, one of the orphaned children of the Marca II Colony, kidnapped, assimilated, and then rescued from the Borg had been living with him for about a month now on board the Enterprise. Just as long ago, Picard had made the poorly-thought out decision to become the ten year old Seth's guardian. For the most part, he still believed it had been the correct decision.

"But how is he, Jean-Luc? I hope you don't refer to him as 'the boy' in his presence."

"He's fine, and no, I refer to him by his name of course."

"Good. Because children are quite sensitive at his age—"

"Nonsense…I wasn't," he disagreed.

"And that's why I worry, Jean-Luc."

He shrugged, not insulted in the least. He knew he was a poor excuse for a parent. And now with Wesley, his biological son coming back on board, well…he supposed he had his work cut out for him. "I don't want to burden you, Beverly, but I suppose I could use your seasoned advice in that department," he admitted.

She smiled genuinely for the first time during their conversation. "It's no burden. In fact I can't wait to give you some lessons…." As she continued to smile at him, he gained hope for a moment that she would turn the conversation to more pleasurable topics, but alas….

"So... back to Yar," she was saying, her expression growing serious again. "At the very least you need to warn Geordi, Data, and anyone else who was actually aware of her—her destruction and chaos before you and Q re-set her life for her."

"I've already informed those who knew who she was, Beverly, but as you know this crew is mostly new. Jack inspired a great deal of loyalty, and when he left the Enterprise, so did many of his crew."

"Yes, but—"

"Beverly," he said gently. "As you I've told you, the Lt. Yar that is coming aboard as Security Chief is not the same Yar who took over the Q Continuum, murdered on a whim and set the Borg after humanity. She's just a Starfleet Officer who asked to be transferred to my ship."

"And you're certain about this, Jean-Luc? Q gave you his promise that she would never come to realize the evils that she or her alter ego, or whatever you want to call it, inflicted on all of us?"

He sighed again. "There are too many variables to keep track of even for a Q. But Q and I did our best to merge the timelines so that this Yar, the one who never encountered the Q will be able to start a clean slate. I wish that I could say for sure that she could never know, but it's not that simple."

"It never is," said Beverly tiredly. "But I love you, Jean-Luc."

He smiled. "I love you too."

"So I'll see you in a few days?"

He nodded. "Count on it."