CHAPTER NINE
Blackness. Silence
Then, a deep inhale. Like someone whose head had been submerged under the surface of the water for far too long, it tried to bring as much oxygen into the lungs as possible before being dunked down deep once again.
But that didn't happen.
Instead, the breaths came continuously. And as one came after the other with no sign of stopping, they slowed and normalized.
He tried to bring himself to a seated position, but clanged his head on the metallic ceiling mere inches above it. What the hell…? he thought. He reached his hands above his head and touched the cold, smooth surface, feeling for any sort of control or clasp that would permit him to exit. But there was none to be found.
He was confined. His movement limited.
His first thought was to panic. Was he in some sort of sarcophagus, buried deep underground? But, if that was the case, why would a thin, pale green line suddenly appear along both sides of his prison, providing limited but nonetheless sufficient illumination? And if he was indeed buried underground, why would he feel a sensation of momentum all around?
And what the hell was that small, flashing red orb on the ceiling at just about eye level? The one that appeared to be calling out to him, pleading for him to touch it? It certainly was insistent, wasn't it? Try though he might, he could no longer resist the temptation. He reached out and touched the light with his right index finger.
Immediately, the ceiling above became blinding white as low-level energy excited the air molecules around the orb into movement. An image slowly coalesced into a recognizable humanoid form. It took less than a second; and when the process was finished, the visage of a woman with close-cropped blonde hair, subtly upswept eyebrows and dully pointed ears stared back at him.
"Greetings, Captain," said the image.
He remembered her. The woman who had shot him!
Sela.
"No doubt you are experiencing some confusion and disorientation at the moment," the image of Sela continued. "However, let me begin by reassuring you that you are, indeed, alive."
Well, thanks for that one, Commander Obvious, thought Captain Jack Bairnson sardonically.
"I'm sure you must have many questions," said Sela.
Boy, do I ever, thought Bairnson.
"Unfortunately, time is a luxury we do not have."
Great, Bairnson thought, bitterly. He realized now that he must be watching a holographic recording that Sela had made and loaded onto this… whatever it was he was on.
As if it read his mind, the recording of Sela announced, "By now, you must realize that you are on board one of our infiltrator pods. I'm sure I do not need to tell you what that is."
Bairnson had heard rumors that the Romulans used small, photon torpedo-like devices to sneak weapons and provisions to troops across enemy lines. They were small enough—and fast enough—that they could evade detection by even the most highly-calibrated sensor arrays. Apparently, they were also just the right size to hold an average-sized adult, making them the perfect tool for espionage.
"This pod," Sela began again, "has been programmed to take you to the Epsilon Dräkmar system."
Why? wondered Bairnson.
Eerily, the seemingly clairvoyant recording responded, "You said that if you could change what happened, you would. Well… I am giving you that opportunity."
Bairnson's eyes widened at the proclamation. Romulans rarely, if ever, just let their prisoners go. Not without some ulterior motive. But Bairnson would be left wondering what that might be as Sela revealed the details of the plan. Once the pod reached the Epsilon Dräkmar system, it would emit an elevated neutrino beam which would open the T'Lajia near Dräkmar IV.
There was that word again. T'Lajia. What did it mean?
"Once opened," Sela continued. "The pod will enter the T'Lajia and return you to the battle of Epsilon Dräkmar." Sela paused momentarily. "At least… I believe that it will."
You believe…? thought Bairnson incredulously.
Sela's hologram informed him that once he was through to the other side of the T'Lajia, he was to activate the pod's emergency transporter. He would then be beamed directly onto the Enterprise-B.
"Once aboard your ship, your mission is three-fold. First: Avert the destruction of the Enterprise-B. Second: Save Dräkmar IV from becoming a poisoned realm. And third…" She paused momentarily before finishing her thought. "Show the crew of the Romulan ship that attacked you the same mercy that I have just shown you."
Bairnson registered the sensation of his momentum slowing. The pod buckled as its reverse impulse thrusters activated. That told him that the pod was entering the Epsilon Dräkmar system.
"Good luck in your mission, Captain Bairnson," Sela's hologram concluded. "Jolan tru," it added as a final punctuation before fading away.
Bairnson felt a slight jolt as the pod dropped out of warp speed to impulse power. He glanced about his surroundings, searching for any control that might activate a viewer. That way, he could see for himself what was happening outside the pod. He pressed down on a control pad to his right side, and another holographic view coalesced before his eyes.
This time, it was a live feed of the starfield just outside the pod. The tiny pinpoint lights of multi-colored stars shifted to the left and right as the pod automatically adjusted its trajectory. Finally, he saw it. The orange-and-yellow orb that was Dräkmar IV. It had always held an inhospitable aura about it. But knowing that it was now a dead world made its appearance even more ominous.
A light began flashing on a control pad to Bairnson's left. Like the first one he'd seen, the light's incessant blinking called to him to press it. He did so, thinking, Typical. She didn't say I'd have to do it!
Bairnson watched on the hologram as a narrow beam of light pulsed out from the bow of the pod. Its rhythmic waves gushed out for what seemed like an eternity. Then, they abruptly stopped.
For a moment, Bairnson laid in his supine position, waiting for something to happen. It didn't. He quickly glanced to the pad by his left hand. An indicator that once showed a nearly full energy level was now down to less than a quarter. The neutrino beam must have severely drained the pod's energy reserves. And there didn't appear to be enough energy left for a second attempt.
Hadn't it worked? Or was there ever really a "T'Lajia" to begin with? Had Sela set him up to die on what was left of Dräkmar IV? He certainly wouldn't put it a past a Romulan to do so.
Then, almost instantly, it appeared on the hologram. The massive swirling, pinkish, wormhole-like vortex.
The T'Lajia. It was there, after all!
Bairnson felt the pod's momentum pick up as the gaping maw of the phenomenon grew larger on the hologram. The pod was being drawn to it.
It didn't take long for the T'Lajia to completely surround the pod. Bairnson felt the pod accelerate as the T'Lajia's gravity well grabbed hold of the pod and forced it down its esophagus like a piece of perfectly cooked chicken. Bolts of energy violently struck the pod, jostling it as it careened down the vortex, seemingly out of control.
One of the bolts must have struck the pod a little too close to its electrical systems because the green light panels above Bairnson's head flickered, and sparks briefly erupted from Bairnson's right side.
He quickly deactivated the viewer and found another pod just above his left hand which he used to shut off the lights. He needed to conserve as much energy as possible. He hoped it would be enough to maintain the pod's life support systems.
All he could do then was brace himself and hope like hell that one of those energy bolts didn't strike a more crucial area of the pod.
As quickly as Bairnson's thrill ride had begun, it ended just as suddenly. The pod's forward momentum vanished, and it felt as if it was bobbing along in the calm eddy of a fast river.
Bairnson quickly pressed the pad to his right, calling up the holographic viewer once again. Outside the pod was a starfield. Its pattern appeared to be identical to what he had remembered being at Dräkmar IV when his journey began. But he couldn't be sure because they were spinning all around him.
Then, just out of the viewer's range, he saw a flash of light. It was followed closely by a what sounded like a thunder clap. But that sound didn't just emanate from the viewer – he felt it rattle the pod. It was quickly followed by another flash-boom. And then another.
Bairnson quickly glanced down to the right pad and found what he believed to be the inertial damper controls. He activated them, and within moments, the pod's position stabilized. He skimmed the image on the hologram for some clue as to what was going on outside.
Then, he saw it. Two silvery shapes in the distance – one larger, one considerably smaller. He pressed the viewer control, hoping it would somehow magnify the image. It did. And the image that appeared was exactly what he had hoped it would be.
It was the Enterprise. And the Dräkmarian aid ship he'd been told about.
The Dräkmarian ship was in terrible shape. Burnt and pitted in several areas, it had moved to a position closer to the Enterprise so it would fall inside the protective bubble of the larger ship's shields. An energy burst from an unseen assailant struck the Enterprise's shield barrier.
And Bairnson could tell by the dull aura it created that those shields wouldn't hold long.
Suddenly, the view on the hologram rotated away from the two ships, and Bairnson could feel the pod tumbling, as if it had been caught in some other vessel's impulse wake. Another flash-boom rocked the pod, and Bairnson pressed the pad to his right again to bring the pod back under control.
When the image on the hologram stabilized, he widened the view out to see the rear of the shuttlecraft Hawking zooming away from his position. A few more flash-booms, and the Hawking was hit! Plasma seeped out of the shuttle's right nacelle, and it continued to fly along an erratic trajectory.
This was it. This was the moment he had to act upon.
The holographic image suddenly broke up in a flash of static and within a second, it was gone. Bairnson glanced down at the pad to his right. The energy reserves were dangerously low, according to the now flashing indicator. If he was going to do this, it was now or never.
He frantically began searching for the emergency transporter activator.
The bridge of the Enterprise was bathed in red illumination and a slight smoky haze filled the air as the crew worked frantically at their stations. Fire extinguishers hissed as fire control crews tamped out a recent flair.
Lieutenant Commander Janet Sunset sat tentatively in the captain's chair. All her years at Starfleet Academy and on numerous starships in the intervening years had prepared her for a moment like this. Even so, her brow was thick with sweat. After wiping her sleeve across it, she reached back behind her head and pulled her shoulder-length jet black hair into a ponytail.
She inhaled deeply, silently calling upon her Cherokee ancestors to bestow their strength upon her in hour of need. She pressed the comm panel on the chair's right arm rest.
"Y'Gar," she called to the air. "How are you holding up?"
The main viewer at the front of the bridge shifted from a view of the starfield just outside the Enterprise to the interior of the Dräkmarian aid ship. Commander D'nadrY'Gar's head and upper torso filled the center of the screen. Around him, Sunset could see that, like the Enterprise's bridge, a smoky haze filled this section of the Dräkmarian aid ship.
Y'Gar's face was sweaty and dirty, and unlike his usually immaculate, button-down dress sense, his now soiled maroon jacket was open, exposing the now dingy white tunic underneath.
"Barely, Commander," responded Y'Gar, also wiping a bead of sweat off his branched eyebrows. "Warp drive is completely inoperative. And there's no way we can escape on impulse power. We could really use Mr. Johnson's services right now."
"Wish I could spare him, Commander," said Sunset regretfully.
"What about the Captain?" queried Y'Gar. "Is he really going through with that mad plan of his?"
Sunset nodded with a wry smile. "Right now, he's the only thing keeping that enemy ship off our backs!"
Y'Gar chuckled. "You still sure you want to have that man's children?"
It was an open secret on the Enterprise that Sunset and Bairnson were engaged. Some said it was the single longest engagement in Starfleet history. Nonetheless, Sunset made no attempt to remind Y'Gar of protocol. Especially not under the current circumstances. Instead, she simply smiled and quipped, "Jury's still out on that one, Commander!"
Sunset then heard the Enterprise's Andorian helmsman Lieutenant Thuroq Mirgant call to her. She reported that the ship's sensors were suddenly registering elevated neutrino levels in the vicinity of the Hawking. Sunset called up an image on the viewer.
A swirling, pinkish vortex suddenly appeared in space. It churned like a oceanic whirlpool, drawing in bits of nearby stellar matter and cloud particles from recent weapons explosions. Sunset ordered Lieutenant Saallak, the Enterprise's female Vulcan communications officer, to hail the Hawking.
After a moment, Saallak reported, "I have the Hawking on audio, Commander."
"Jack," Sunset began. "Watch yourself out there. Some kind of wormhole just popped up out of nowhere."
"Yeah, I see it," said Bairnson's disembodied voice over the bridge's speakers. "Might just be the break we need!"
Lieutenant Curtis Winston, the Enterprise's navigator, called out to Sunset. He reported that the Hawking had altered its course. It was now heading directly toward the wormhole-like phenomenon.
"Jack, are you out of your mind?!" bleated Sunset.
"Don't worry," said Bairnson reassuringly. "With a bit of luck, I might be able to get our attacker caught in that thing's gravity well."
"I would highly advise against that, Captain," came Y'Gar's voice. He had been monitoring the bridge communications from his location on the Dräkmarian aid ship.
"Y'Gar's right," pleaded Sunset. "You could be caught in the gravity well, too!"
"Or worse," Y'Gar interjected. "Crushed by it!"
"Well, then," said Bairnson coyly. "The Enterprise will finally be yours, Y'Gar!"
"You know I don't want that, sir! Not like this!"
On the main viewer, three small flashes of light erupted near the phenomenon. Sunset ordered a magnification of the area. The view shifted, and Sunset and the bridge crew stared helplessly as an image of the Hawking appeared. One of the enemy ship's blasts had found its mark on the shuttle's starboard nacelle. Its illumination slowly faded as plasma oozed into space from the damaged nacelle.
Slowly, the plasma drifted into the gravity well of the phenomenon, followed closely by the Hawking itself.
"Jack!" Sunset called. "Get the hell out of there. Now!"
"Believe me, I'd like nothing better," coughed Bairnson. "But I'm having trouble rerouting available power to life support…"
Sunset pressed a button on the chair's right arm rest. She called for the transporter chief to lock onto Bairnson's position and beam him out. Unfortunately, the chief reported that the elevated neutrino levels coming from the phenomenon made it impossible to lock onto the Captain's position.
The shuttle hurtled ever closer to the phenomenon's event horizon.
"Jack," Sunset desperately called again. "You've got to use the emergency transporter on the Hawking…"
"I'm trying…" croaked Bairnson. "But the systems seem to be… freezing up…"
At that moment, Bairnson's signal cut out altogether. Sunset called Bairnson's name, twice, before ordering Saallak to get him back. She watched as the Vulcan woman operated several control combinations on her work stations. But, in the end, all she could do was shake her head.
Sunset turned back to the main viewer and watched in horror as the Hawking tumbled end over end as the phenomenon's gravitational pull embraced the craft. The Hawking circled the phenomenon's maw, being pulled toward the center like a leaf caught the vortex of a tornado.
And just as it hit the phenomenon's center, the Hawking disappeared, along with the phenomenon itself. Where once there was a swirling, pinkish vortex, only the black void of space now filled the viewer.