Chapter Fifteen
The wind tore through my hair with a deafening howl as giant waves crashed against the rocks of the shore. Above, ominous black clouds roiled in anger as lightning flashed across them and thunder shook the air. Nature was exploding around me in a symphony that I could feel deep in my bones.
Michael.
The voice was like the thunder, heavy on the air. But its sound was soft and tremulous, the voice of a woman. The voice of Julie. There was no direction from whence her voice had come, but I instinctively turned toward the sea. Not far from the shore, she huddled perilously on an outcropping of rock, the golden tresses of her hair catching the wind and whipping across her shoulders.
Why did you leave, Michael?
The gauzy fabric of her dress flowed over her body and dipped into the sea. My heart beat against my chest in an arythmic, painful throbbing. I knew I must go to her. Pull her from the rock and take her to safety. I saw the deadly waves, and fear caught me for a moment. But I had left her there, and I must brave that fear to bring her back.
I waded into the sea, feeling its violent attempts to thrust me back ashore. I leaned into the waves, trudging forward toward the rock. With every step, my heart grew heavier. Fear and an unexplained sadness gripped me.
I'm so sorry, Michael…I never meant for this to happen.
Meant for what to happen? I shouted into the wind. But there was no response. Ahead, very close now, she huddled on the rock with her back to me. I was almost to her. I was reaching a steadying hand out to her when she spoke again. But this time the voice was different. It was cold.
The galaxy is becoming a smaller place, Michael.
Her head turned, and she faced me. I recoiled in horror as I saw a mechanical eyepiece, and black rivulets spread across her face where nanites swam through her bloodstream. Her remaining eye viewed me passively as she grabbed my arm. I tried to backpedal, but the force of the current now worked to drag me further into the sea. In a motion as fluid as the water around her, her body slid from the rock and up against mine.
Behold perfection, Michael.
Her lips parted, and she tilted her head sensuously toward me, leaning in. White light radiated from her mouth as she connected, pressing her lips against mine. I tried to scream, but I was suddenly mute. I felt the heat of the light pouring into my mouth, the tangible force of energy coursing through my body as our kiss deepened. I looked into her staring eye, and saw the light coalesce into the perfection I feared. It was Omega. The particle radiated in her eye, pulsing and growing until it filled my vision. Her kiss, the warmth of her body against mine despite the chill of the sea, her fingers pressing against the sides of my face – all of these things became a secondary reality to me as overwhelming, terrifying perfection swam between us.
Resistance is futile, Michael.
Tex was shaking me. I opened my eyes, and the haze of the nightmare lifted, though its dark spirit lingered around me as I sat up.
"You all right, Cap'n?" he said, concern on his face. For a long moment, I couldn't speak. I rubbed my eyes, and looked around at our detention cell. In addition to Spock and Picard, I was surrounded now by Lietenant Commander Weston, Tex, and Carrie Johnstone.
I jumped up, still recoiling from the horror of my dream. I looked around wildly, hit with a sudden wave of claustrophobic panic. Tex put a hand on my shoulder.
"Cap'n, you ok?" he repeated. I stepped away from him, and his hand slid off my shoulder as I moved toward the archway.
"No," I said. "We've got to get out of here." Frantically I began searching the surrounding walls for a weakness.
"You might do better to conserve your strength, Captain," said Spock. "At present, there is no viable means of escape."
"They're suffering," I said. "We have to get out of here and help them!"
"Agreed, Captain. But until an opportunity to do so presents itself, all expenditure of energy would seem to be a waste," he said coolly. I looked at him, seated on the floor next to Weston, who gave me a look of thinly veiled disdain.
"Permission to speak freely, Captain?" she said, standing. I nodded, my eyes still scanning the room.
"Go ahead," I said, my frustration building.
"Can we expect your nightmares affecting your judgement to be a fairly regular occurrence?"
At that moment, I had finally had enough of her.
"What the hell do you expect me to do!" I shouted, getting up in her face. "Do you want me to just sit here, knowing what's about to happen to us? Or what's probably already happening to our friends?" I was gesticulating wildly now, and I could feel the anger in me bubbling over uncontrollably. Weston backpedaled a little.
"Sir, I…"
"Don't 'sir' me, Lieutenant Commander! I know what you did back on the Ascension." I stepped forward toward her again, pointing a finger in her face. "Look, Weston, I didn't ask for this assignment. I accepted it because the Federation needed help, and they thought that I would be a good choice. And who knows? Maybe they were wrong about me. But you have never even given me a chance!" I threw up my hands and turned away, shaking my head. When I turned again, Weston's face seemed a little pale.
"What do you want from me?" I asked. Picard spoke.
"I think perhaps she wants some assurance that her captain is not going to be ruled by his emotions." In the stillness following his comment, I was deflated. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. I was sure he was right, but I didn't want to admit that to Weston, even though she seemed now to have lost her air of defiance. It was at this moment that Ensign Johnstone spoke.
"With all due respect, Captain, I think that there's a bigger issue here. Captain Allen is right; most of the people from this time are not even giving us a chance to prove ourselves." Weston turned to her, looking a little more comfortable confronting a subordinate.
"That's not true," she said. "You people have proven yourselves several times already to be unfit for the posts Starfleet has given you!"
"Still, Lieutenant Commander," said Picard, "I think that even you would agree that we all make mistakes, especially in the face of difficulty." I looked at Picard. Whose side is he on, anyway? I wondered. "After all, how would you react if I had made those same mistakes?" he said. Weston frowned.
"But you would not have made those mistakes, Captain."
"Au contraire," Picard countered. "I have defied Starfleet orders more times than I care to rememeber, and many times there have been severe negative consequences."
"Would you all like a little more time to work this out?" said a gravelly voice. We all turned, and were met with the sunken face of V'Eral.
"What do you want?" Picard asked bitterly.
"What I want is not important. What is important is what must be done."
A dark fear settled on me as I realized what he meant: to the gas chambers with us.
"So they're ready to kill us now, are they?" said Picard. V'Eral began pressing in his security code.
"Your 'integration into perfection' is to begin today, yes."
"And they gave you one last chance to stab us in the back by taking us to our 'integration'?" I said malevolently. V'Eral just shrugged. With an audible drone, the forcefield deactivated.
"They might have if I had asked. As it stands, the duty still belongs to the guards, who will be here in an hour."
There was a silent moment in which we looked at each other and back at V'Eral. I tried to find the words I was looking for.
"You mean…?"
"Eradication is not perfection, Terran. We have many differences, some of which I should like to get to know more about at my leisure. But the debate of subjugation versus freedom has no place for the removal of a race from its existence." He waited. None of us moved. "Come with me now," he said. "I have a way to get you out of here, but you must hurry. It will not be long before they discover that the security viewers have been disabled."
For a moment, we hesitated. Then Tex spoke up.
"Well, shit folks!" he said. "If he's a'gonna kill us, he ain't got no need to lie 'bout it." There was a silent acquiescence as we all moved toward the archway.
We walked silently through the dark corridor, following at V'Eral's heels. He carried what looked like the Reman equivalent of a tricorder, and consulted it before each turn we made. Finally, we came to a doorway, which opened with V'Eral's security code. The door closed behind us as we entered, enveloping us in an inky blackness.
I nearly turned back when the stench hit me.
"What the hell is that?" Picard said, a little too loudly. V'Eral hissed for him to be quiet in the darkness. There was a click, and the tricorder he carried suddenly lit up a small portion of the room.
"We are in the refuse docking bay, and that," he said, pointing at a dull gray hunk of metal in front of us, "is your means of escape." I winced as I took in another breath of the putrid air. The ship looked to be about four or five times the size of a shuttlecraft, though it was difficult to tell for sure in the dim light of the tricorder.
"A garbage scow," Spock said. "Fascinating." V'Eral pointed toward what looked to be the back of the ship, and we could see that a door was open.
"The owner of this ship will be here very soon. If you hide in the cargo hold, you have a good chance of getting out of here," he said.
"What about you, V'Eral?" I asked. "Shouldn't you come with us?" V'Eral glowered at me.
"Do not mistake this for friendship, Terran. The Prefect is insane, that is all. I must stay behind and try to undo some of what is being done. Should I survive, we will be in contact." He backed away, looking over his shoulder into the darkness. "I must go."
He looked at Spock for a moment, the raised his hand and parted his fingers.
"Live long and prosper, kinsman," he said. Spock solemnly raised his hand to do the same.
"Peace and long life, V'Eral."
With that, he disappeared out the door, and we were left in darkness. Picard was the first to say anything.
"Everyone stay together. Let's find a place to hide in this thing."
We linked arms, and moved deeper into the night.
