NOTE:
Hi everybody! Nope, I'm not dead, and yes, Dark Age is about to continue. But before we do, I have a few things that I'd like to say:
Why has it been so long since the last update? I heard a quote once that said: The very best things happen just before the thread snaps! In the last few months, I learned that this is definitely true. You all know that I've been working seven days a week for almost a year now, and a couple of months ago I had a small breakdown. Nothing big, but I just couldn't bring myself to work on this story for a while. On top of this, I've also had two laptop computers stolen in the past three months. When I finally could even look at Dark Age again, I found that I had no idea where the story was going anymore. Things that had been crystal clear to me before were now completely fogged over. I had to back off and re-evaluate everything. Which brings me to our second question:
What's up with this chapter? Yes, Homefires was published several months ago, but I found that the sections with the crew of the Icarus just didn't work with the grand arc. So I rewrote it. The majority of this chapter is the same, but anything involving Alex, Selene and the others is new. I'm sorry I had to do this, but trust me, it'll all pay off in the long run.
But now I'm back, and hopefully things are going to continue smoothly from here on in. The next chapter is already three quarters written, and I hope to post it within the week. So here we go. Believe me, it feels pretty good to be stepping back into the final frontier...
Homefires,
Chapter One:
-Adm. James T. Kirk, "Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home"
-----
From space, the planet was unimpressive, little more than a spherical block of ice with two small moons drifting in an orbit around a dim and distant star. No nebulas or quasars hung over it, their kaleidoscopic colours providing a break from the dull blackness of space. The only oceans that had once been visible from orbit had frozen over long ago, their icy surfaces almost indistinguishable from the snow covered continents. The planet was white on ivory, without even the break of clouds in the atmosphere to change the monotony that covered the sphere.
But it was not the planet that mattered, it never had been. It was what this tiny world represented to so many, what had happened on this world so long ago, and what was happening on it now, that was so dangerous. The world was the physical manifestation of an idea, and an idea can be more dangerous than any army that had ever been known.
And so, with thirty simultaneous flashes, a fleet of ships dropped out of transwarp and entered orbit, their dark green hulls reflecting the light shining off the snow far beneath them. For a long moment, they hung suspended over the small planet as their weapons came on-line, and then the bombardment began.
-----
Michael Chern pushed himself back to his feet, the dust in the air catching in his throat and forcing him to cough. He had been halfway to the sanctuary when the attack had begun, the sounds of torpedoes striking the snow outside echoing across the tall mountains, causing earthquakes and avalanches. It was only thanks to the sturdy construction of the temple and it's deep foundation in the mountainside that no one had died yet.
That didn't mean that the temple had escaped the attack without damage. One of the upper towers had collapsed, crumbling down on the rest of the building, destroying anything in it's path. Michael had been running through one of the many hallways beneath the tower when the ceiling had given way, rock and stone falling on top of him. Looking around himself now, he saw a jagged hole cut into the wall, the freezing air of the outside filling the hallway. In the distance, he saw dozens of jade green trails hurtling down, fire mixed with snow blossoming from their points of impact. It was as though the sky itself was raining green fire.
His teeth chattering, gooseflesh rising under the fur coat he wore, Michael climbed over the ruins of the hallway and ran for the large wooden doors, pushing them open as soon as he reached them. The sanctuary was warm, a large bonfire burning in the pit at the centre of the room, washing away the cold of the outside world. Dust filtered from the ceiling with every strike, the room itself shaking as though the walls of the temple knew that their ends were near. Hundreds of people filled the room, dozens of species represented in the huddled masses. Humans, Klingons, Andorians, Vulcans, Romulans, Bajorans... The list went on. Many of the people turned at Michael's approach, fear or anger evident in their eyes as he passed by them, his own eyes searching for a specific pair of women. Pushing his way through the crowd, he finally found them. A large Klingon and a tiny Vulcan stood near the mason wall, their heads bowed as they spoke quietly under their breaths, their expressions grim. Noting Michael's approach, they nodded and waved him over.
Michael bowed slightly, his hands clutched together as he breathed across them, trying to warm up. "T'Pren. Aayna."
The Vulcan observed him quizzically. "How many?"
"Thirteen capital ships, and assorted cruisers. Varying types, classes. All of 'em armed to the teeth and ready to get rid of us."
The Klingon woman growled, "There is no honour in this. It is impossible to defend ourselves. What honour lies in the slaying of a helpless opponent?"
"I dunno. I don't think that they particularly care, Aayna. They just want us dead and swept away." Michael scowled, "We have to use the Hak'Tyn. Get at least the children on board and away from here. The rest of us can hide in the caves until help arrives."
"Illogical. The Hak'Tyn is unarmed, it would not survive long enough to achieve an escape trajectory."
"Then I'll fly escort! I'll hold them off long enough to make sure the kids get to safety."
Aayna frowned, "You would not survive."
Michael shook his head, "I know that. But we have to make sure the kids are safe. That's our main goal here, right?" he looked from one to the other, "Right?"
Neither of them looked happy, but both nodded. "Alright then." Michael removed a key from the chain around his neck, inserting it into a small slot in the stone wall. A few feet away, T'Pren did the same. "On three. One. Two. Three." Both keys were turned in their slots, and with a loud rumble, the stone wall gave way. Flickering lights activated, revealing a stairway that reached deep into the mountainside. Behind him, all of the people in the room turned at the sound. "Alright, everyone!" Michael had to yell to be heard, "This is how it's going to work! We adults are going to hide in the caves, but we're going to use the Hak'Tyn to get the children out of here! We're going to send them to a secondary safe house! They'll be a lot safer there than we will be here! So everybody get down the stairs and let's load the kids up! Let's move!"
Slowly, muttering and arguing amongst themselves, the crowd began to filter through the doors as the sounds of the orbital bombardment grew closer. Waiting until the room was empty, Michael stepped through and sealed the wall behind him.
The descent into the mountain was long, the rough-hewn stone steps uneven and corroding with age. Michael lost his footing several times, having to hold onto the wall in order to stand upright. The further down he went, the colder it became, the chill of the surface permeating the rock that surrounded him. The crowd was descending slowly and carefully, not wanting to risk a full collapse of the staircase. He could hear children crying in front of him, screaming at the thought of being separated from their parents. He could hear adults whispering, wondering how they were going to survive in the caves after the bombardment ended. He saw T'Pren in front of him, her dark haired head held high as she made her way down the stairs, always cold, always practical. He could hear Aayna muttering to herself in Klingon. He didn't need to speak Klingon to understand what she was saying, the tone was clear enough. He wanted to tell everyone that it would be okay, that everything was going to be fine.
But he didn't have the heart to lie.
So he kept moving, not even looking back as he heard the temple disintegrate behind them, keeping his eyes trained forward until they reached the bottom of the staircase.
The Hak'Tyn was a large, bulky transport ship, rectangular with two nacelles built directly into the ship's sides. A large and prominent jutted out from her forward hull, the curved bridge windows smeared with dust. She was ancient, but she still flew, and that was all that mattered. Parents began to walk their children across the gangplank into the ship, saying teary farewells as they ushered their offspring through the hatch. T'Pren stepped up next to him. "You are certain?"
Michael sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Wish I weren't, but.. hey, what can you do when you live in shoe?"
T'Pren looked up at him, an expression of confusion on her face. "I do not understand."
Michael laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. "I'll explain when I get back." T'Pren nodded, accepting the forced levity with grace, knowing that it was unlikely he would return. Smiling, Michael left the Vulcan behind and stepped up next to Aayna, who was watching the boarding with a scowl. "You okay?"
She growled, "This should not be happening, Michael. To murder combatants is one thing, but to murder children... There is no honour in this."
"They don't care about honour, Aayna. You know that." He crossed his arms, "So you're flying the Hak'Tyn?" She nodded, "Alright then. No heroics. No glorious fights. I don't care if I get shot down, you have to make it out. Got it?"
"I understand."
Michael turned and walked away, headed for a small shuttlecraft that was parked alongside the Hak'Tyn. Sitting down in the pilot's chair, he brought the systems on-line, watching as the shuttle shook itself to life. His heart was thundering in his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage. "It's okay. It's okay. I'll be okay." Michael swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat. "I'm just about to commit suicide, but, hey, I'm okay." Switching on the subspace radio, he spoke into the microphone. "Hak'Tyn, this is Chern. Shuttle reads ready for take-off."
"Hak'Tyn stands ready."
The enormous doors at the far end of the cavern rumbled open, revealing the snow-covered mountains outside. Torpedoes still rained down from the sky, throwing snow into the air. Michael could hear the rumble from beside him as the Hak'Tyn lifted itself into the air on it's repulsors, hovering several meters off the ground as her impulse engines warmed up. Tossing a quick salute to Aayna, Michael brought the shuttle's engines to full power, speeding through the opening and into the blizzard outside. The Hak'Tyn followed him at a much slower pace, her bulk desperately trying to shrug off the planet's gravity. Michael settled into a flightpath directly in front of and above the Hak'Tyn, watching carefully as they ascended into orbit. As the white of the blizzard faded away into the darkness of space, he looked at the sensors. "Aayna. Look sharp. There's a ship on an intercept course."
"I see it."
"Get out of here. I'l hold it off." Peeling away from the freighter, Michael turned and saw one of the smaller ships turn in his direction, their weapons now aimed at him, rather than the planet. Throttling directly towards it, he came as close as he possibly could before he opened fire, the shuttle's weak phaser beams little more than bee stings to the large cruiser, but the point was that he was too close to the ship's hull to be fired at.
He danced the shuttle along it's course, taking out any targets of opportunity until he reached it's engines. Squeezing the trigger, twin phaser beams lanced out and pierced the impulse unit, shattering the ship's sublight engine. Spinning away, he risked a glance at the Hak'Tyn and cursed.
Two more ships had approached from the other side and opened fire, the bright green beams of energy lancing across space towards the fleeing freighter. Aayna was throwing the Hak'Tyn from side to side, ducking and struggling to dodge the attacks, but no one could avoid that much fire. The first phaser beam struck one of the nacelles, shorting it out, leaving the broken engine streaming warp plasma as the Hak'Tyn began to spin out of control. Michael swore and accelerated towards the battle, leaving the damaged cruiser behind him. His fingers racing across the control board in front of him, he struggled to find the emergency communicator, punching it with his fist as soon as he found it. The shuttle began transmitting, his voice reaching across space on every channel, flooding subspace so that everyone could hear him. "Stop! That ship's filled with children! Don't...!"
Whether they would have fired anyway, or whether they had received the warning too late, Michael would never know. He only knew for certain what he saw.
The second phaser beam struck the Hak'Tyn directly amidships, running straight through the freighter's hull and punching out the other side. It became the longest second of Michael's life, as the Hak'Tyn hung suspended in front of him, no more than a kilometer away, every detail crystal clear as the green phaser beam continued on it's path. He could see directly through the hull breach, could see the stars shining through the other side. For a heartbeat, it looked as though the freighter would stay in one piece, even with the gaping hole in it.
Then it exploded.
She was ripped apart, fire burning for only a second as the oxygen in her decks was sucked away in the vacuum of space. It took less than three seconds before she was nothing more than drifting debris.
Michael screamed as he watched, unbelieving. So many young lives... all gone. Tears ran down his face, mixed of grief and anger. For a moment, he sat, screaming and crying, as the wreckage of the Hak'Tyn bounced against the shuttle's hull.
Then he stopped, becoming very calm as he looked up, watching the debris strike the window of his shuttle, a sound like falling rain filling the cockpit. In the distance, he could see the cruisers that had destroyed the freighter turn towards him, their weapons powering up.
Grieve later, he told himself. Grieve later. Help now. Get help now.
Get help now!
Reaching for the steering column, he threw the shuttle into a hard climb, cutting directly through the heart of the attacking fleet, missing dozens of torpedoes by mere meters. It was like running an obstacle course, avoiding ships and weapons fire to emerge from the other side unharmed. As he burst from the top of the fleet formation, he swung hard to starboard, picking up speed as he raced away from the planet.
As the warp core cycled up, Michael sat, thinking. This had to end. They had gone too far this time. No more small fixes, no more stop-gap measures, he was going to find a way to end this, once and for all. And there was only one man who could do that.
Whether he would or not, that was different matter.
The shuttle jumped to warp, leaving the snow covered world of Boreth far behind.
-----
On the bridge of the command ship, Kaihl sat in his command throne, watching as his fleet struck at the world circling below. It had been a good day. The rebels were all down on the surface, trapped like voles, except for that single freighter and it's shuttle. "Report!"
One of his subordinates knelt before him, "My Lord. The freighter has been destroyed, as you commanded."
"And the shuttle?"
The subordinate scowled, "It has escaped, My Lord."
With a single stroke, Kaihl ended the man's life, driving a knife between his ribs and into his heart. No one on the bridge looked up from their stations as the man died. Standing, brushing himself off as though he had touched something dirty, Kaihl, Emperor of the Klingon Empire, Chancellor of the High Council, and Champion of the Klingon Arena, turned and left the bridge.
-----
"On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, warm smell of colitas rising up through the air..."
The sound of the so-called "singing" drifted through the darkened hallways of the Icarus, bouncing off of the reinforced bulkheads and echoing from one end of the cargo ship to the other. No matter where they were, the crew glanced up at the warbling noise as one. In her sickbay, Nyssa winced as it assaulted her sensitive ears and clapped her hands to the sides of her head. In the dining room, Selene sighed and pinched her nose, figuring that the act may at least postpone the headache, while Kordath growled deep in his throat and struggled to concentrate on the dk'tahg in front of him.
"Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night…"
On the sound continued, seeping through walls, deckplates and circuit boards until it reached the very depths of the ship, the cargo bay. His fists clenched, Alex paused in his workout, reaching out and grabbing the punching bag on its swing back as his lips curled into a grimace. This wasn't the first time in the past three weeks that he and the crew had been forced to endure the torture. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to block the music out, returning his attention to the punching bag.
"There she stood in the doorway, I heard the Mission bell. I was thinking to myself, this could be heaven or this could be hell."
One-two. Left-right. One-two. Left-right. Don't listen don't listen don't listen... With a rhythmic pulse, Alex's fists hit the leather bag, his feet dancing around as the workout bag bounced back. The sound of flesh on leather filled the room, but no matter how hard he tried, Alex couldn't drown out words.
"Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way. There were voices in the corridor, I thought I heard them say..."
All through the ship, in the sickbay, the dining room and the cargo bay, four heads looked up and muttered as one "No no no…" And as one, their fears were realized as the sound actually doubled in volume.
"WELCOME TO THE HOTEL CALIFORNIA... SUCH A LOVELY PLACE such a lovely place… SUCH A LOVELY FACE! PLENTY OF ROOM AT THE HOTEL CALIFORNIA... ANY TIME OF YEAR any time of year... YOU CAN FIND IT HERE!"
Sighing, Alex collapsed against the wall, hanging his head in his hands. Every day, every single day, it never changed. Oh, the song changed, yesterday it had actually been Janice Joplin's "Little Piece of my Heart", but the fact still remained that Tal was completely tone-deaf and could not carry a tune. As the pilot launched into the second verse, causing a groan that filled the ship, Alex picked up his towel and ran it through his sweat soaked hair. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he stretched, cringing as a muscle in his back started spasming. Tossing the towel aside, Alex stood up and padded out of the cargo bay, shutting down the overhead lights and closing the door behind him. Through the viewport on the opposite wall, he could see the swirling energies of warp space. They had been in transit for almost three weeks now, ever since their escape through the transwarp hub. After two days, their transwarp coil had failed, dropping them back into normal space and forcing them to continue under standard warp. A four-week trip from Earth to the Federation Remnant had suddenly become a month and a half trip. Not that Alex minded all that much. After all, he had six centuries of alternate history to catch up on.
Wrapping the towel around his neck, Alex passed in front of the doors leading into the dining room. Glancing inside, he could see Selene and Kordath seated at the table. His eyes quickly washed over Selene's laid back form, one hand resting over her eyes. With a small smile, Alex remembered how many times he had found his own Selene in much the same position after a long shift. It was amazing, really. His own Selene had grown up in a stable environment, with everything she could ever want while this Selene had grown up in a warzone, fighting for every little thing. For the both of them to be so similar... well, it certainly gave credence to the argument of nature over nurture.
Knocking on the doorjamb with a single knuckle, he poked his head inside to speak, but Selene cut him off before he could make a sound. "It's your turn."
"What do you mean, it's my turn?"
"I did it yesterday. Nyssa did it the day before, and Kordath the day before that. Your turn."
Alex stuck out his tongue. Without even looking up, Selene waved her arm at him, telling him in no uncertain terms to get moving. With a scowl, Alex turned and walked away, taking the long walk up to the bridge. Still, the din rebounded through the decks.
"So I called up the captain, please bring me my wine. He said, 'we haven't had that spirit here since 1969…'"
Nyssa came running through one of the hatches, her hands clapped against her pixie-like ears. Seeing Alex, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good. Someone is going up there. Hit him once for me, huh?"
"You have to remember that the man flies the ship."
The Romulan smiled an evil smile. "Can't fly the ship if he's dead."
"I'll let him know that." Climbing the metal staircase that led up into the bridge, Alex winced as the singing got louder. Tal sat in front of him, lounging back in his chair, his hands swinging back and forth like a conductor in front of an orchestra. "Wake you up in the middle of the night, just to hear them say-hay…"
"Tal! Shut up!" Alex whipped the towel off from around his shoulder and threw it at the Bajoran pilot. The damp cloth struck him in the head, causing Tal to stumble and fall out of his chair. As the singing ceased, Alex heard a chorus of "thank yous" rising up from behind him, supporting by a deep voice saying "finally."
Muttering under his breath, Tal rose up from the floor. "Critics."
"Tal, who sang 'Hotel California'?"
"The Eagles."
"Well, let them sing it."
Tossing the towel back towards Alex, Tal readjusted his chair. "Critics. You're all critics. No taste for classical music." Alex chuckled under his breath and sat down beside the sensor suite, taking a quick moment to glance at the readings. Nothing special or impressive, just the usual mixture of particles and energies found in warp. Smiling, Alex turned back to Tal. "I love classical music. Soon as I hear some, I'll let you know."
"Ha ha." Tal turned around in his seat to glance back at Alex. "At least I'm not singing something like the Rolling Stones."
"Hey! The Stones are the very definition of classic! Their farewell album released in 2023 was one of the greatest albums of all time!"
"Not nearly as good as The Beatles' Imagine."
"Imagine was done by John Lennon after he broke off from the Beatles."
Tal frowned, then angrily glanced up. "No fair! You have the Starfleet database in your head!"
"Yeah, makes it great for winning arguments. I can also tell you what year Mick Jagger was brought out of suspended animation…" Icarus bucked, sending Alex and Tal flying across the bridge as the lights went out throughout the ship. Klaxons sounded, filling the ship with their shrill screams while Alex crawled back to his chair. Blood flowed from a gash across his forehead where he had struck it against the far wall. Behind him, the hatch swung open and Selene, Kordath and Nyssa ran through, each of them looking much the same as Alex and Tal, namely, banged up and bruised. Grasping one of the supports built into the bulkhead, Selene pulled herself into the room. "What the hell is happening to my ship!"
"Checking that now." Alex's fingers flew across the sensor console, futilely typing in commands before punching it in frustration. "I'm not getting anything here! It's like there's nothing out there!"
"I could have told you that." Nyssa pointed at the window. "Look outside. What happened to the stars?"
Glancing up, Alex did a double take. Outside the windows, the blue streaks of warp space had vanished, replaced by... nothing. No stars, no planets, just a vast black emptiness that seemed to stretch on forever. Behind him, he heard Kordath growl. Turning away from the windows, Selene glanced at Tal. "Can we move?"
The blonde pilot tapped at a few controls before shrugging. "We have thrusters, but it looks like impulse and warp engines are off-line."
"Alex?"
"All of the systems seem to be working. It's not internal. There's something... out there…" Alex waved at the window, "... holding us back. We're not stalled out, we're stuck."
As the words began to sink in, the five of them took in the emptiness outside, held at bay by the fragile hull of the ship. For a long moment, no one said anything, and then Tal spoke up.
"You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave."
And with Don Henley's immortal words drifting through the darkened bridge, they continued to stare.
-----
Aishwarya stood in the medical ward, staring at the frozen body of Jason Madden, her eyes nearly as cold as the stasis chamber itself. She had exchanged her red sari for a formfitting black dress with blue vest, her clothing reflecting the funereal attitude she had adopted over the past three weeks. Her dark hair was tied in a severe but elaborate bun at the back of her head, a pair of jeweled pins holding it in place. Everything about her appearance and bearing screamed control.
Better for people to assume she was what she appeared to be, rather than to have them realize that she was a mess of emotions.
Behind her, the door to the room irised open, admitting Rakiin, dressed in dark clothes just as she was. Aishwarya kept her face impassive as he stopped next to her, staring at the stasis chamber in silence. The change in her brother in the past weeks had been disturbing. Before his battle with Kordath, she had known that his control had been thin, little more than rice paper over the burning fire of his temper. She had known how far she could push him, where she could fool him, but now...
Rakiin rarely left his chambers now, and on the occasion that he did, Aishwarya could see the difference in her brother. He was calm. Staring into his eyes now was like standing in the eye of a storm, a total and perfect calm, but one that masked the coming thunder. It frightened her to a degree he never had. Rakiin had been dangerous enough before, but with true control over himself...
"You spend so much time in here, Sister. Why is that?"
Aishwarya refused to let him see her fear, keeping her eyes on Madden's body as she answered. "To see the future, perhaps." She shrugged, "The future... or the past."
Rakiin tilted his head, as though examining a piece of art. "I suppose the good Commander could be both. One of them, and soon to be one of us." He looked at her, and Aishwarya could feel his eyes searching. "We are the children of Humanity, Aishwarya. And children have always been meant to replace the parents."
"I understand that concept far better than you could ever imagine, Brother. Far better." Aishwarya turned and stared at him, her own eyes flashing. "You taught me that lesson long ago. What lesson are you trying to teach me this time?"
"That it is dangerous to become attached, Aishwarya. You never know when the betrayal will come."
"A dim view on the Universe, Rakiin." Aishwarya turned back to Madden. "But it has been proven true in our lifetimes, hasn't it? Betrayal comes from the most... unexpected... places."
Rakiin laughed at her thinly veiled jab. "Indeed it does, Sister. Father should have learned that lesson." He turned to leave, the door whispering open in front of him. As he made to step through, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "We will be arriving at Fatalis in the near future, Aishwarya. Until then, feel free to spend as much time as you wish here. I would hate to keep you from a piece of living history." And he was gone, leaving Aishwarya more frightened and more alone than she had ever been.
-----
"Well, what have you been able to figure out so far?"
Selene stood against the wall of the engine room, watching as Alex ran simulation after simulation at the main console, his face caught in the glow of the computer screen. Less than ten minutes after their arrival, Selene had decided that continuously feeding power to engines that didn't work was a waste of energy and had ordered the warp core and impulse drives shut down. No use spinning their wheels in the mud. That had been two hours ago. "Alex? Anything?"
Straightening up from his hunched over position, Alex turned towards her and rubbed his eyes. "Well, you have two options. The first is a long, involved, technical explanation that will clarify everything assuming that you wrote your graduating thesis on warp physics and their effects on subspace phenomena. The second is short and to the point."
"I'll take option two."
Alex shrugged. "We're stuck."
Selene sighed. Of all the times for the man to get a sense of humour... "Okay, find me an option between the technobabble and the smart-ass."
Alex nodded as he leaned against his console, and then lifted one hand, palm facing towards the ceiling. "Imagine that my palm is space. We exist along the surface, right? Now, in order to fly at warp speeds, we bend space slightly." His fingers curled upwards, not much, but just enough so that his hand now formed a small bowl. "What's happened here is that the subspace which we usually bend has curved too far, wrapping around us." His hand closed until he was holding his fist up in front of her. "Subspace has formed a bubble out of the area around us, and we're stuck inside."
"First question. How do we burst the bubble?"
Alex shook his head. "Still working on that."
"Second question. How did this happen?"
"Well, if it were natural, we would have had warning. Warp field destabilization, power fluctuations, things like that. There was nothing. One minute, Tal and I were talking about music, and the next we were pulled right out of warp. This isn't natural. It's a bear trap."
Selene shook her head, running a hand through her mass of black hair. "A bear trap?"
Alex nodded, "A bear trap. Hunters on Earth used to scatter these serrated clamps around in the wilderness. An animal would come wandering by, step on the trap, release the trigger, and boom." He clapped his hands together, "Trap would close and crush the animal's leg. It wouldn't be able to move."
Selene turned and faced the doors to the engine room, considering what Alex had just told her. For some reason, it sounded familiar. Something she had read about years ago… "A sinkhole."
"Yeah, I suppose you could call it that..."
"No. It's a sinkhole." Selene spun around, anxiety playing across her face. "That's what they called them during the war. The Khanate reprogrammed singularity bombs and sprinkled them throughout the galaxy. They'd do just what you said; warp subspace so that any ship that passed through would get stuck inside the bubble. Once it was stuck, it's power would run out, it would be completely cut off from supply routes... from the entire galaxy. The crew would either die in the transition back to normal space, or die when their power or supplies ran out."
"Take out an enemy ship without risking one of your own." Alex nodded, "From an engineering viewpoint, it's brilliant. From a personal viewpoint, it's cruel and unusual."
"Just like the Khanate." Selene sighed and leaned against the console. Beside her, Alex continued to stare out into space. "I don't remember hearing about any Federation ships ever escaping from a sinkhole. One minute they'd be there and the next... nothing."
"So for us to get out of here, you need a miracle."
She glanced up at him and smiled, "I keep asking you for those, don't I?" They stared at each other for a long second, and then burst out into laughter. Wiping his eyes, Alex chuckled, "I'll see what I can pull off."
"You do that." Pushing away from the console, Selene headed for the door. Sobering up, she looked back at Alex. "I mean it, Alex. If we can't figure a way out of this…"
"I understand. I've already got a couple of ideas but not much beyond that. What I was thinking was that we could..." A burst of static from the shipwide comm system interrupted him, drawing both of their eyes towards the sound. After a moment, Nyssa's voice filtered through the room. "Skipper? You and Alex might want to get up here. We've found something."
Glancing at each other, Selene and Alex ran from the room, their boots pounded on the metal grillwork of the Icarus' decks as they rushed to the bridge. Pulling herself up the staircase, Selene stepped through the hatch. "What's going on?"
"That is." Nyssa waved towards the bridge windows, urging Selene to take a look of her own. Outside, the pitch black of the Sinkhole had been replaced by what seemed to be a dark green construct that filled the view. Squinting, Selene stepped up to the windows, placing her hands against them as she tried to make out details. "What is that?"
Seated next to her, Tal grabbed the steering column and eased the Icarus back. "Maybe it'll be easier to see if I do this."
Icarus drifted slowly back from the emerald assembly, it's edges slowly coming into view as the small cargo ship gained distance. Before them stretched a ship that was easily ten times as big as Icarus, large wings swept forward like the wings of some enormous jade angel grasping pontoon like warp nacelles. A dull green glow emanated from the belly of the cruiser, the last remnants of her power illuminating her long crane-like neck.
A Romulan Valdore class warbird hung in front of them; it's gargantuan form filling the windows.
Tal whistled, the sharp sound filling the room and causing everyone to turn and glance at him. The pilot shrugged, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Will you take a look at that?"
Alex stepped up to the windows next to Selene, his eyes roaming over the derelict warship. "She's beautiful. There's a bit of damage, a couple of hull breaches from what I can see, but still... Back in my reality, these things have been out of service for five and a half centuries."
"It's been even longer here." Nyssa's voice was strained, "After the Empire fell six hundred years ago, no more were built. A few were absorbed into the Khanate fleets, but they fell out of use a decade or so after the war."
Selene turned to Kordath, "Any indication of power over there?"
The Klingon consulted the tactical readout before shaking his head. "Minimal power usage only. Emergency batteries."
"Tal?"
The pilot glanced up at the sound of Alex's voice. "What is it?"
"Can you take us up? About five hundred meters. I think I saw something on the other side of that ship."
Tal looked at Selene for approval and she shrugged, watching as he fired the ventral thrusters, lifting the ship until they came to rest at a point above the Valdore, looking out over it.
The Sinkhole was filled with ships. Romulan, Federation, Klingon, Breen, all of them running on what appeared to be minimal power. A smile broke across Selene's face. "Look at that. A Neghvar, a wing of Valdores, that's an Akira class over there... It's an entire fleet!"
"I am registering twenty-seven vessels of various design." Kordath looked up from his console. "All of them dating from the Khanate War."
"There's a Sovereign class over there in the middle." Alex pressed his face against the glass in an attempt to make out the lettering on the distant ship's hull. "USS... Grissom."
The name was like a thunderclap on the bridge. Within seconds, Selene had pushed Alex out of the way, trying to confirm it for herself. Seeing he was right, she backed away, laughing hysterically. "It is. It's the Grissom! We've found it! We've found it!"
Alex looked from one ecstatic face to the next, confusion written across his features. "Found what?"
Grabbing Alex by the shoulders, Selene pointed at the cluster of ships hovering just beyond her reach. "It, Alex. We've found it!
"We've found the Lost Fleet!"
As the rest of the crew celebrated, Alex stepped back to the window, his earlier wonder forgotten. Staring out at the Grissom, he muttered under his breath. "We didn't find it. We've joined it."
None of the others heard him.
-----
Thousands of light years away, deep within the heart of the Khanate Empire, an emerald flash broke the darkness of deep space as the lustrous black form of the Gilgamesh emerged from transwarp. Before her lay an amber jewel of a world, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of Khanate vessels, some even larger than Rakiin's cruiser itself. Once, the world had been green and alive, covered by lush rainforests and deep blue seas, but that had been long ago. Now, only the desert remained, bathing the surface in violent sandstorms that would strip the skin from a man's bones if he were foolish enough to stand in its way. The desert planet had once been a paradise, and now, it had become a very literal Hell.
But through their iron will and determination, the Khanate had begun to tame the planet to their desires, bending the awesome force of nature itself. Small wisps of cloud gathered in the upper atmosphere, water vapour where there had once been none. Tiny fields of green dotted the landscape, carefully maintained and protected agricultural zones that had been painstakingly grown.
As the Gilgamesh approached, weapons platforms hanging in orbit turned and trained their deadly arrays on the cruiser, their electronic eyes ever alert and vigilant. An access code sang across the void of space to the platforms, the Gilgamesh's roar of identification. Recognizing the black ship as an ally, the platforms turned away, but kept their sensors locked. They would fire at a second's notice, if the need arose.
With the knife's edge suddenness possible only in space, the Gilgamesh cut across into the planet's far side, where its most distinguishing feature came into view. The lights of an enormous city, easily three hundred miles in diameter, shone out deep on one of the continents, fighting back the encroaching night. Built far from the roiling acidic oceans, the city of Fatalis was the heart and soul of the Khanate people, even more so than the sprawling shipyards of New Chrysalis. It was from here that the ruling council governed the fractious empire, maintaining a semblance of order amid the chaos. A group of men and women who had been trapped within the stone walls of the Holy City for so long that they had long ago lost any true concept of how the Universe operated, issuing proclamations only to have them mostly ignored. They were mostly figureheads, symbols to prove to the rest of the Galaxy that the Khanate were united.
Symbols are useful things, but it was beneath the Holy City that the true symbols, the true leaders, of the Khanate lay. The greatest leaders and warriors in their history, laid to rest in the dark catacombs of the original underground city of Fatalis. Alia's and Enkidu's bones, exhumed from their resting places on New Chrysalis and interred here, next to the preserved body of Augustus Raine, next to the memorial to Malik...
Next to the tomb of Khan Noonien Singh and Marla McGivers.
With a deadly beauty and grace, the Gilgamesh settled into orbit of Ceti-Alpha V.