Unnamed Star System

Edge of Vorlon Space

A red giant star feebly burned. Flares slowly licked out of the aging star's surface, some arcing back down. Knots and groupings of sunspots mottled the surface, making the star's glow even feebler. The red giant's size, the radius of which would reach Jupiter's orbit in the Sol System, made two Federation starships seem much smaller and much harder to find. The larger of the two ships, the Excelsior held station near the smaller and unlit Miranda-class starship. The feeble red-orange light of the star and its tongues of flame revealed the name Majestic on its hull.

USS Majestic NCC-31060

Dr. Christine Chapel was studying the readings on her medical tricorder. She was feeling like she tasted something repulsive. Her environment suit was not having much effect against infection. It slowed down the infection, to be sure, but Christine was infected as soon as she beamed over. "Lieutenant Saavik?"

The Vulcan woman had been working closely with the doctor and Peter Tiefen, setting up the treatment apparatus. "Doctor?"

"Look at these readings. Nothing that can process oxygen would be immune to the bloodworms. Only an ecosphere with silicon-based life can keep the bloodworms under control. Regulus IV is a class-M planet. Are they native to it? What controls them in their environment?"

The Majestic's captain, David Jefferson, heard the question. "That's classified information, Doctor. It's on a need to know basis."

Christine grimaced. Clearly, this particular captain was of a more military bent than many other Starfleet captains. She has met other such captains before. "I need to know, Captain. The information will refine the treatment."

"Negative. Your concern, Doctor, should be with the treatment itself. Knowing about the plasmasites' natural environment is irrelevant."

Christine was having a hard time believing the man's audacity to stonewall her. "Answer me, Lieutenant Saavik."

"Belay that," said Jefferson. "You do not have a need to know, Doctor."

The human doctor was getting angry with the indifferent Captain Jefferson. "The Chief Medical Officer outranks the captain in health matters."

"And you're not my chief medical officer."

She looked around at the survivors huddling in the dimness lit only by the force field holding the massing bloodworms at bay. She had to find ways to get past Jefferson's stonewall. Since he was of a military bent, he would likely to be a by-the-book man. "I'm sorry to be so blunt but you do not have a doctor anymore. So I am now the Majestic's Chief Medical Officer. You do not want me to use Protocol 121, Section A."

Jefferson now looked angry. Protocol 121, Section A permitted a chief medical officer the power to relieve an officer or crewmember, including a superior one, of their duties if in the officer's professional judgment he or she is medically unfit. Dr. Chapel could use the bloodworm infection in the captain as a pretext for the protocol, never mind the fact that the doctor was now infected despite her environment suit. He silently turned away to quietly talk with Yeoman Nechayev. Clearly, he would not be interfering anymore.

"Well?" pressed Tiefen. He also wanted Saavik to answer Christine's question.

Saavik subtly sighed and said, "The bloodworms are native to Regulus IV. There is no natural control on the plasmacites in their native environment because they were actually engineered to be a weapon of war. We are uncertain about the definite identity of the creator."

"A weapon?" Christine was aghast. Bioweapons were a Pandora's Box that most military officers are loath to open. Especially when they were as deadly and uncontrollable as Regulan bloodworms.

"Indeed. The Regulan bloodworms were a doomsday weapon."

"Well, it worked," Christine said resentfully before turning away to speak into her communicator. She was wondering why Starfleet officers were working with doomsday weapons. The last time they did was during the Romulan War. However, the Genesis Device could be termed a doomsday weapon if misused, but that was not Starfleet's intent. "Captain Sulu? Did you hear that?"

"Yes. We'll talk later. For now, stay on purpose."

She was thankful that in medical emergencies, comm. channels were required to be permanently open.

"All right."

-/\-

"A doomsday weapon." Ford shook his head at the idea. Sitting on the deck, the security officer touched his phaser rifle. He was itching to shoot the person who modified the Regulan bloodworms into a bioweapon. He looked up at Nurse Tiefen who was checking data in his medical tricorder. "Peter, I've seen the records at the Academy." He grimaced at the memory as Tiefen squatted on the deck to clasp a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"The classes about biological and chemical weapons were horrible. Whenever they plan to show recordings of them and their effects, they would set a sick bag beside each of us."

Tiefen nodded in distaste. "They sometimes did that for my classes too. Some of the diseases were not pretty at all."

"Yeah, but I saw diseases that were artificial, diseases that were unleashed on purpose." Ford shuddered.

"I remember my lesson on Regulan bloodworms," said Tiefen, nodding. "The colonists at Regulus IV all died. Starfleet prevented some of them from escaping on ships from the planet. Toward the end, they…they had to shoot down all ships attempting to escape. When the first infection was detected on the orbiting space station, Starfleet Command activated the self-destruct by remote."

"I remember that part. My instructor used it as an example of what we must do if the situation requires it. If they didn't do it, someone might have escaped the quarantine zone and spread the infection to the rest of the Federation and the galaxy. That would be the end for the Federation. It was still young in 2214. The end of life and civilization everywhere. Even the pre-warp worlds would be affected whenever an infected ship comes across them or whenever they develop the warp drive and visit infected planets." Ford paused and added, shaking his head again, "Now that we know it's a doomsday weapon, it certainly fits."

"What Starfleet Command did saved the colonies at Regulus III and V." Tiefen sighed. "Certainly didn't save the people at Regulus IV." Now the nurse was angry. "Whoever did it was stupid. Everyone knows you can't really control a bioweapon, certainly not one that's designed to be a doomsday weapon. In the ensuing paranoia, Starfleet implemented General Order 24 and glassed the bloodworms' home-planet at Regulus II. There are only a few specimens of the pre-plague bloodworms left. Now no one can use them."

"Use?" Ford was puzzled. "People used them?"

Tiefen nodded. "Before they became deadly, doctors sometimes used the bloodworms to clean up the lymphatic system and to filter out toxic antigenic compounds from the bloodstream. Dr. Phlox on the pre-Federation ship Enterprise certainly used them." He looked around at the dim cargo bay. The force field was still active and still glittering at the efforts by the mass of bloodworms trying to break through. He could see the survivors of the Majestic huddling and waiting while Dr. Chapel consulted with Saavik and Dr. Altos Viger on the Excelsior. "I don't know if it's a good idea for Captain Sulu to try this. I'm grateful that he wants to try this." He put an arm around Ford's shoulders and drew him into a sideways hug. "If not for him, we'd be dead right now."

Ford agreed. "The standing order to destroy all infected ships. Yeah." He fell silent and leaned his head onto Tiefen's head.

Commander Chekov came up to the security officer and the nurse. Seeing their reaction to his approach, he held up a hand. "Don't get up on my account." The Russian peered at the men closely. "Are you all right?"

Tiefen and Ford nodded, grateful for the commander's concern.

"How long have you been together?" Chekov asked.

"Since the Academy," Tiefen replied.

"Two long years," chuckled Ford, eliciting a humorous scoff from Tiefen.

"We'll get through this," assured Chekov. "Ve vill celebrate your next anniversary together."

"Thanks, Commander." Tiefen's gratitude was sincere.

"Pavel, please."

"Pavel."

"Dr. Chapel will be ready soon. She'll need your help."

Tiefen gave a nod, recognizing the shift into business mode. "Yes, sir."

When Chekov moved on toward the Denobulan engineer, Terim Azleya, in his duty of making sure of his crewmates' comfort, Tiefen turned to Ford. "Y'know, it's funny."

Ford was looking at Chekov conversing with Azleya. "What is…?"

"How much I worry about you—being on security detail and all. I'm always afraid that—" Tiefen stopped himself before finishing the sentence. "Never mind."

Ford shook his head. "Hey. There's nothing to worry about. Really." He smiled for the first time since coming aboard the Majestic. "We don't have bulls-eyes on our uniforms anymore."

Tiefen gently chided, "Yeah, you can joke, but…." He shook his head. "I know the odds, Colt. I—"

"Hey!" Ford pointed at Tiefen, firmly saying, "Don't talk like that. Now, Peter, get to work!"

"Yes, sir!" Chuckling, Nurse Tiefen pulled off a pre-Starfleet military salute and gave an unmilitary embrace. He got up to work with Dr. Chapel.

USS Excelsior NCC-2000

Captain's log, supplemental. On both the Excelsior and the Majestic, the crew worked feverishly to put the doctors' plan into action. It is error-intolerant and it could be very uncomfortable for the patients. Nevertheless, I have confidence in the doctors. Still, the detractors were right. They include my Chief of Security, Lieutenant Akaar. General Order 22 specifically prohibits any rescue attempt. Therefore, what I am doing is technically against Starfleet standing orders, so they are justified in logging formal protests. I may have been harsh to them at a time when everyone is under a great deal of stress due to the proximity to Vorlon space and the bloodworm infestation. If this rescue succeeds or if, dare I say it, my ship is infected in the attempt, I will do all I can to find out the reasons behind the Majestic's and the bloodworms' presence. Again, I am disturbed by the implications of their presence and by the apparent failure of the quarantine around Regulus IV.

Captain Hikaru Sulu gazed up at the warp core. The blue pulsing glow of core column played on his face.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Sulu started at the voice. He saw that it was the Excelsior's chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Devon Gabler.

"The warp core? Yes it is, Devon."

The blue pulses of the warp core diffused gabler's dark chiseled features. "Almost like gazing at the stars. But that's not what you're really looking at, is it, Captain?"

Sulu smiled softly. Gabler was a fellow crewmate on the original USS Enterprise as a junior engineer. "No, Lieutenant. Some people are nervous about the mission I've given them. Some have even lodged formal protests."

"Shall we have them flogged, Captain?"

The captain looked up, startled. He saw Gabler's grin, signaling that it was a joke. "You know, that's almost exactly what Lieutenant Akaar said."

The engineer laughed. "Let me guess. He suggested beating people up. That's the Capellan culture speaking through him. We were not so different, once."

"Rum, sodomy and the lash. That's how Winston Churchill once described the Royal Navy. But we're past that."

"If you say so, sir," said Gabler with a mischievous grin.

"Don't tell me you've met some of the people who think that Klingons are tame."

"Well, now that you mention it…."

With good-natured severity, Sulu stopped Gabler with a raised hand. "Lieutenant, I said don't tell me."

Gabler grinned for a moment. "Anyway, I came to tell you that I've been in communication with Lieutenant Azleya and the doctors about the problem of safely transporting our people in stasis units. I noticed we haven't addressed the problem of the pods themselves being contaminated by the bloodworms."

Sulu raised his eyebrows in realization. "I thought we're outfitting the stasis pods with a repulsor force field."

"The repulsor won't eliminate all possibilities of contamination. Something could get through, especially if the atmosphere is heavily saturated with undesirables."

The captain sighed. "Now that's a problem. A new problem."

"Until now. My engineering staff is building two stasis units in the isolation ward, one that incorporates transporter technology. We can inject a patient with enzyme-suppressants, wait for the bloodworms to die, then transport him straight into the stasis pod where the docs can do their work."

"Two units? Can the doctors do it?"

"They assured me that they can. Besides, there's little time left before the force field on the Majestic fails."

Nodding, Sulu accepted that. "Let's do it."

USS Majestic

The transporter effect faded, revealing monitors and status screens.

"All set?"

"Yes, Captain," said Christine. "It's a good thing we got Engineering in on this. I'll ready everything up."

As the doctor turned to Nurse Tiefen, she found David Jefferson and Alynna Nechayev standing at her elbow. Now Captain Jefferson spoke, "Captain Sulu?"

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Captain, you'll have to rescue Yeoman Nechayev and myself first."

"Excuse me?"

Jefferson was not embarrassed at all. "There's a Starfleet regulation. Regulation 238—"

"I know the regulation." Sulu's voice now sounded acidic.

"Then you know that it mandates that in situations of dire emergency, critically important Starfleet personnel must be rescued first."

Tiefen snorted in contempt. "Right. 'Women and children last.'"

Jefferson barely glanced at the nurse. "You said something, Lieutenant?"

Christine stepped in. "Captain Sulu, there are people in very bad shape."

There was a brief pause of silence before the Excelsior's captain replied. "I'm sorry, Doctor Chapel. Captain Jefferson has precedent on his side. Whatever he and Nechayev know about the plasmacites is too important to risk losing."

"Yes, Captain." Christine kept her tone neutral.

However, Captain Sulu could recognize the implied disapproval. "I understand exactly how you feel, Doctor."

-/\-

Chapel kept her feelings to herself as she ordered Jefferson to lie on a cot. Her tricorder told her that Jefferson's infection was not as bad as it could have been, which meant he must have been in a protected area longer than the others. Her lips thinned at what this implied about the captain's character.

Without warning, she pulled open Jefferson's tunic. She picked up a pair of surgical scissors and, ignoring Jefferson's protests, methodically cut open the turtleneck undershirt, the arms and legs of his uniform. "You should have taken this off before lying down," she said as she slapped sensor monitors onto his chest, arms, wrists, neck, forehead, belly, groin, legs and ankles. Her expression betrayed nothing. Behind her, Tiefen was quietly helping Nechayev undress before echoing the doctor's application of monitors.

"All right," she said blandly, "Let's see if this works. Congratulations on being the first person to receive the anti-bloodworm treatment." Christine prepared the hyposprays while saying, "There are plasmacite detectors in the sensor monitors. You'll be constantly scanned. If the monitors get a positive reading, you'll be held in transporter stasis, bounced back here…or dumped into space. It depends on the circumstances."

Jefferson's eyes widened. "You're kidding—"

"I'm not." Christine turned her back on Jefferson to see whether Tiefen did his work satisfactorily. "Excelsior, is everything ready?"

"Yes, Doctor."

Christine curtly nodded. To Jefferson, she said, "Sorry we can't sedate you. There's too much risk. But it shouldn't hurt…too much." With that, she pressed a hypospray upon Jefferson's neck artery. "There. If the enzyme-suppressant works, the bloodworms should disintegrate soon."

Tiefen peered at a monitor screen. He could not resist smiling with delight. "It's working!"

Christine nodded, still looking bland. "You should start feeling it any second now, Captain. A tingly sensation, like pins and needles all over, but only on the inside? Right about now, it should be increasing, like it's becoming a burning sensation?"

Jefferson's face was ashen. He was definitely feeling it.

She replaced the empty clip with a new clip of suppressant and pressed the hypospray again. "That should pass soon."

It was true. The Majestic's captain thought it was because he was getting used to it, but he was starting to feel tired and out of breath. Very quickly, he felt beyond fatigue and exhaustion, as if he was dying except he felt too tired to die.

Christine clinically knew what Jefferson was feeling. She nodded and said, "That's the bloodworms dying." Indeed, she could see the bloodworm count dropping on a screen panel. Inside Jefferson's body, the bloodworms were quickly starving to death, but they were disintegrating into toxic residue and were taking the red blood cells down with them. Therefore, Jefferson's body was no longer getting enough oxygen. She could see that when the captain began to look out of breath. His eyes now began to look unfocused and to wander. She thought that should be caused by the carbon dioxide hallucinations resulting from the quick progression from hypoxia through hypoxemia to anoxia.

"Relax, Captain. Everything will be fine." The doctor crisply turned away to double-check Tiefen's handiwork on Yeoman Nechayev. She said loud enough for Jefferson to hear, "We'll start with you as soon as Excelsior confirms that Captain Jefferson survived the procedure. If he doesn't survive…." She shrugged. "We always make a rough draft before perfecting our work, don't we?"

Returning to Jefferson, she saw that he looked like he was about to pass out. "You're doing fine. Only twenty seconds to go. Do you want me to count them down for you? No?" She casually turned away from Jefferson's eloquently terrified expression and studied the screens showing the sensor readings of his body. "Excelsior, are you getting the readings?"

"Affirmative."

"Can we handle giving him another twenty seconds, just to be sure?"

"It's your call, Doctor. We can hyper-oxygenate, but there are limits to what we can do."

"Hear that, Jefferson? Nothing to worry about. Soon, you'll have fresh blood substitute pumping into you. You'll feel normal in about a week or so. Ah! Panel says you're clean, Captain. No more plasmacites. All that's left to do is to beam you over to Excel— Oops! Dropped my tricorder, just a minute."

As Christine bent to retrieve the med-tricorder, Commander Chekov could see the glint of gleeful mischief on her face. "Commander Chapel," he said quietly with a hidden half-smile, "that's enough."

"Aye, aye, sir." Now her manners were crisp and efficient. She saw that Jefferson had passed out. Once more, she made sure that there were no plasmacite left in the captain. "Excelsior, Captain Jefferson is ready for transport."

Immediately, the transporter effect took hold of the unconscious captain and covered him with glittering motes of light until he faded away from existence. Once done, Christine Chapel turned back to the nervous Nechayev, glancing at the watching Chekov.

Chekov's expression was carefully neutral. "You could work on your bedside manner."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't."

USS Excelsior

Doctor Altos Viger watched as the glow of the transporter effect faded within the stasis pod. Immediately, the status reading screens lit up. He had to remember to thank Commander Gabler for creating the stasis units with built-in transporters. Otherwise, there would be a greater chance for the need to open the cargo bay doors and flush everything out into space.

The environment-suited Bolian doctor cracked his fingers. "All right. Let's transfuse the bastard."

He checked the hoses and injectors in the stasis pod to be sure all was in order. He pressed commands in the control panel beside the pod. Soon, the control panel was reciting blood pressure, body temperature, heart rate, oxygenation and other readings. In Altos' opinion, the most important was "No detectable plasmacites."

Altos was delighted. However, he still needed to get the toxic residue out of the bloodstream. He checked the display on the overhead unit and looked across the closed pod at a nurse. If the patient was not in stasis, he would be experiencing considerable pain. The biggest problem in any injury was system shock. It did not matter if a doctor pumped saline or blood-substitute, he needed to get fluid into a body as fast as he could.

Altos checked the pumps, grateful for the technology behind them. Back when people still used IV-drips, patients often died on the way to a hospital or suffered unnecessary damage. The Bolian frowned. "We're using too much artificial blood. Get another rack from Sick Bay."

Soon, Altos was sure that Jefferson would survive the procedure. "We did it! We just made medical history!" He turned to a comm. panel. "Doctor Chapel, start the next patient. I think we can sedate the patients before injecting the enzyme-suppressants. We're going to do the procedure in a staggered series. The second stasis unit is waiting."

This time, the procedure seemed to go faster now that they knew what to do when Nechayev beamed into the second pod. As soon as Jefferson's transfusion was complete, he was brought out of stasis and nurses carried him out to make room for the next patient.

"We've got fifteen patients to go and we're running out of time." After a glance at a display, Altos added, "And artificial blood as well."

As he worked efficiently, he wondered why Starfleet officers were working with such a doomsday weapon as Regulan bloodworms.

USS Majestic

From now on, each patient would be carefully sedated, carefully injected with enzyme-suppressants and carefully transported into a stasis unit. The procedure was repetitious and boredom was a danger, but everything went efficiently enough.

Just as Dr. Chapel was preparing her ninth patient, the visible glittering glow of the force field sputtered. The humming tone of the field interrupted. It seemed to hesitate before it shifted its tone as it compensated for the momentary hiccup and went back to full strength.

Christine looked up from the cot at Nurse Tiefen. In the dim cargo bay, everyone noticed and exchanged glances.

Saavik voiced everyone's thoughts. "The force field is losing strength. It will not maintain itself much longer."

Terim Azleya checked her engineering tricorder reading and held out a hand to feel the static electricity emanating from the force field. "I think we have forty minutes. An hour maximum. Doctor, we have to speed this up."

"We'll make it," assured Christine. When she caught Tiefen's worried glance, she added, "Barely."

The nurse nodded and shuddered. He did not like the thought of being eaten alive by worms. He went back to work, studiously ignoring the veritable lake of flame-red wriggling worms held back by the force field.

He hoped they would all make it in time before being overtaken by the bloodworms.

USS Excelsior

Captain Sulu was trying to read a book. For the past hour, he had been on the same page because his mind was preoccupied with the consequences of this operation. There was no question about it: after an extended quarantine of the cargo bay and of the Excelsior, he would be brought before a Starfleet board of inquiry. The inquiry board would ask him if he had knowingly violated a standing order. Sulu would answer in the affirmative.

The admiral chairing the board would be sympathetic and make noises about extenuating circumstances not mitigating the offense and how important it was to maintain the chain of command in Starfleet. It would be all despite the fact that his crew effectively ended one of the most dangerous scourges in known space. The fact would remain that Captain Sulu knowingly put his ship and crew at terminal risk in violation of a standing order, therefore the board would have no choice but to recommend that he stand before a court-martial.

This was precisely why Akaar confronted him the way he did, forcing the captain to threaten the brig. However, did Sulu really violate a standing order? This was a case of a collision of priorities. There were other orders that gave him the authority to do what he did, such as the order to do whatever he could to preserve the lives of his crew and to preserve his starship. His duty required him to do all he could to accomplish that.

Sulu could argue that to the board. He hoped he would not have to leave the Star Service, but if he had to do it all over again, he would.

The ship's intercom whistled for attention.

"Doctor Altos to Captain Sulu."

"Sulu here."

"There isn't enough artificial blood for everybody. We didn't expect to use so much to replace the patients' blood."

"How long to make more?"

"Too long. Captain, you're going to have to ask for blood donors."

"Blood donors?"

"I know. It's a barbaric practice: you take blood out of one person's body and put it into another as long as the blood types are compatible. It's a painless procedure and it's the best way to save the last six lives—Chekov, Chapel, Tiefen, Ford, Azleya and Saavik. We'll need at least seventy volunteers, each one donating a pint of blood. The nurses are standing by in Sick Bay and we already have the names with the appropriate blood types. We have to start right away."

Sulu had heard about this kind of thing. It was rare for any modern Federation doctor to require actual blood donations from people. He could remember McCoy getting a blood donation from Spock to save Ambassador Sarek's life during the Babel conference concerning Coridan's admission into the Federation. He also remembered it was a standard practice in the 20th century which Dr. McCoy hyperbolically called a dark age of medicine.

"Captain? Time is critical. The more blood we get now, the less we'll need later. The nurses can do ten at a time."

The captain pressed another button in the comm. panel. A bosun's whistle sounded throughout the starship. "Now hear this. This is the captain speaking. We need blood donors to help save the lives on the Majestic. We need seventy volunteers. Dr. Altos assures me it will be painless. I am volunteering. All volunteers report to Sick Bay on the double. That is all." Releasing the control button, Sulu got up to leave his quarters.

By the time Sulu arrived, there was already a line extending out of the open door to Sick Bay. He saw the crewman who had confronted him with a petition against the rescue operation.

"Good to see you, crewman."

He nodded back. "Sir."

USS Majestic

Chekov, Chapel, Tiefen and Ford watched as the engineer Azleya was taken by a transporter beam. They were intensely aware of the sound of the force field keeping the bloodworms at bay. It was sounding more and more unstable every moment, the notes of its sound fluctuating uncertainly.

"All right," said Dr. Chapel. "There's not enough time left. Take off your suits." Once she was satisfied that the others were following her orders, she added, "I'll go first. Dr. Altos will need help to make this fast while the nurses are busy taking the blood donations." She turned to Nurse Tiefen. "I have confidence in you. So far you've done well and have made no mistake. I will put a commendation in your log."

"Thank you, Doctor."

While helping each other to take off the environment suits, Colton Ford said, "Peter, they will need you on the Excelsior. I'll go last."

"Colt, you're going after Dr. Chapel."

"Peter, I know how to do this. I watched you. The whole process is easy enough to—"

"Colton, please let me do my job."

"I have a job to do. I'm security. I'm supposed to take the risk of being last."

"I hate it when you get like this."

A transporter beam took away Christine Chapel.

"Majestic, start the next one."

"Can you take two at once?" asked Tiefen.

There was a pause before the answer came through. "Yes."

The nurse turned to Chekov. "Sir, will you order Ford to go now?"

"Actually, I'll go last."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm the only one here who knows how to monitor the process. If anything goes wrong, I'm the only one who knows what to do. You and Ford have to go next."

Ford shook his head and hand in negation. "They'll monitor me from the bridge. I'm security. It's my responsibility to go last."

"I'm the ranking officer," said Chekov. "It's my responsibility."

Tiefen now looked frustrated and angry. "To hell with this." He quickly pressed a hypospray onto Ford's arm, beginning the sedation process. A flicker of regret crossed Tiefen's face at Ford's expression of betrayal. The nurse hurriedly and gently laid him on a cot and then, without warning, Tiefen whirled to Chekov and a soft hiss signaled the hypospray's action on the Russian's arm.

"There! Argument over."

Chekov looked about to argue anyway but a wave of dizziness took him. The nurse hurriedly half-carried the now stumbling commander to the second cot.

Ford was struggling against the sedation. "Damn you, Pete. That's not fair!"

"Shut up and let me win an argument for once," retorted Tiefen who was already applying sensor monitors onto Chekov. "We don't have time for this."

The point was reinforced when the sound of the force field dipped abruptly and the field flickered.

Tiefen activated another hypospray, filling Chekov with enzyme-suppressants. Immediately, he went back to Ford. "All right, sweetie. You're always the strong one. Today is my turn, okay?" He touched Ford's cheek tenderly. Impulsively, he bent to kiss Ford quickly on the lips. "I love you."

Just before Ford surrendered to the sedation, he whispered, "I love you too."

Tiefen noticed that Chekov was watching with respect in his eyes. "Very decisive, Mr. Tiefen. You're officer material. Here." Chekov unclipped his phaser pistol and held it toward the nurse. When Tiefen took it after injecting Ford with suppressants, the commander lost consciousness.

Tiefen tossed the phaser onto the deck beside Ford's cot. When the display panel indicated that Chekov was ready, he said, "Excelsior, here comes one." With that, he pressed a button in a control panel and the commander vanished into the transporter effect.

Now alone with Ford, he gently touched the security officer's cheek again and kissed him on the forehead. "See you later, honey," he whispered.

Another transporter beam took Ford away to the Excelsior's safety. Tiefen watched as the last motes of light faded. Behind him, the sound of the force field sputtered again. The wall of red wetness pulsed on the erratically glittering force field. He hurried to lie down on a cot and injected himself with enzyme suppressants.

USS Excelsior

Sulu ran out of the turbolift onto the bridge. "Report!"

"The force field on the Majestic has failed," calmly reported Ensign Tuvok.

The captain bit his lip as he looked at the Majestic adrift in the main viewscreen. "Who's still over there?"

"Commander Chekov and Lieutenant Ford have beamed over. Nurse Tiefen is the last." Tuvok glanced to his science console display for confirmation. "He has injected himself. He will have ninety seconds before we can beam him out."

"Lieutenant Tiefen to Excelsior."

"Go ahead, Tiefen," Sulu said.

"The force field's down. The bloodworms are coming through. I can see them—I can hear them."

The Excelsior bridge crew could hear the bloodworms, too—a crackling and wet slobbery noise.

"I'm not sedating myself. I need to stay alert. I can feel the effects of the injections. It's uncomfortable but I can handle it. It's gonna be a close one."

Sulu watched the Majestic drift across the wall of red fire filling half the visible universe on the main viewscreen. He mentally urged the Miranda-class starship to help keep Tiefen safe for a bit longer.

"God, they sound awful. They're coming toward the cot." There was a sound of a phaser firing. The sound of Tiefen crawling out of his cot and away from the bloodworms came over the comm. system.

Tiefen's phaser fired again. Then the distinctive sound of bloodworms dominated the ship-to-ship communication line again.

"Doctors!" called out Sulu. "Beam him out!"

"Not yet, Captain. He's still carrying live plasmacites."

"Colton, I'm sorry. I thought I had more time…. Oh, God! They're coming! Forgive me!"

Another phaser shot. Then silence except for the liquid crackling of bloodworms.

Sulu opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a scream. A phaser shot abruptly cut out the scream.

The captain lowered his eyes. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to say anything nor did he want to exist. He felt very alone. The bridge was full of a wet ugly noise.

Janice Rand's voice was gentle. "Captain?"

"Shut the damn thing off!"

Silence. Blessed silence.

-/\-

Sulu had his head in his hands.

He raised his head when the door to the conference room opened. Sulu quickly sat up and schooled his face. Ensign Tuvok came in, followed by Jefferson and Saavik. Gabler came in, holding a compad and talking with Dr. Chapel and Lt. Akaar. Gabler handed the compad to Sulu when he passed his chair. Commander Chekov was scowling and glaring at Jefferson when he came in.

When everyone was settled at the conference table, Sulu said, "We have solved one part of the plasmacite problem by extracting all the people from an infected environment we could. We still need to solve the problem of the Regulan bloodworms." The captain was relieved when he heard his voice not reflecting his emotions about losing Nurse Tiefen. He looked down at the compad. "I see we have a few suggestions for solving the problem. First one: Destroy the Majestic itself."

Tuvok said, "That would be ill-advised. The plasmacites are not destroyed by phaser fire nor are they satiated by feeding. Destroying the ship would merely release the bloodworms from their current environment. Furthermore, as discussed before, the explosion would trigger a feeding frenzy and then a feeding frenzy in the corona of the red giant star. I do not need to remind you what would happen when the star has a stellar event such as a supernova."

The gathered people nodded grimly. It might take billions of years for that to happen but when it happens, the force of the star's explosion would send the bloodworms hurtling outward. They would ride the expanding shockwave heading out in all directions. Wherever they are captured by a star's or planet's gravitational field, they could infect. If the planet happened to be inhabited, the inhabitants would die. If a ship passed through the shockwave or the infected environment, the ship's crew would be infected as well as bringing the bloodworms to other worlds much faster. From there, an entire galaxy would be infected. That was saying if a ship, sent by the Vorlons for example, did not pass through this star system first. The chance of that occurring increases if they destroyed the Majestic. The starship's explosion could plausibly attract the Vorlons' attention and cause an investigation by them, considering how close they were to Vorlon space. To make matters worse, Vorlon ships seemed to be biological so it was conceivable that the bloodworms could infect and kill bioships as well as the Vorlons themselves.

"What about tossing the ship down into the star?" wondered Chapel.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow. "There would still be the problem of the star getting infected because the heat and pressure of the corona would destroy the Majestic before it gets inside the star."

"That's what I don't understand. How could bloodworms survive a corona and spawn there?"

"It would appear that they were designed that way. They could survive the heat and vacuum, and they breed rapidly. So each time a sufficiently hot flare destroys some of the plasmacites, they are replaced by new bloodworms."

"Foolhardy," whispered Chapel wonderingly and uneasily.

Sulu said, "That suggestion is similar to another one here: tractor the ship and throw it down into a black hole."

Saavik took it upon herself to respond to the suggestion. "A risky endeavor. Risky not only to ourselves but also to the galaxy at large. We have no guarantee whether the bloodworms would remain inside the Majestic for the duration of the trip, not to mention the time needed for us to search for a black hole."

"What about having meat tanks as bait or creating bloodworm pheromones to keep them following us to the black hole?" Gabler said.

"There would still be the risk of bloodworms getting loose."

"What about using the transporters to take as many bloodworms as possible and beam them out to space at maximum dispersal?"

"The bloodworms breed at a high rate. We cannot guarantee getting all of them. We would, essentially, be racing against both time and nature."

Dr. Chapel said, "That proves the bloodworms were mutated in some way to inhibit their natural course of development." She banged a fist on the table in frustration and anger. "A real doomsday weapon. Whoever did this was smart."

Sulu nodded. "Saavik's right. We don't know when the Vorlons would come a-calling and I don't want to be here if they come."

Akaar scowled. "We shouldn't have done the rescue operation. We should have solved this problem long ago."

"Mr. Akaar," warned Sulu, "what's done is done."

The Capellan almost growled, and glared at Jefferson and Saavik pointedly. His blond queue, if it could, would bristle. "They did this. One of my men died because of them. They should be telling us all about the bloodworms."

"How about it?" agreed Chekov. "Suppose you can provide some…useful insights to this problem?"

Jefferson and Saavik glanced at each other. The former captain of the Majestic looked grim while Saavik's half-Romulan nature caused her to look apologetic. She said, "The bloodworm is a specifically-designed mutation of the earlier Regulan bloodworm, created as a doomsday weapon. We believe—"

Jefferson spoke up, deliberately interrupting. "Do not say another word, Lieutenant Saavik."

Sulu rubbed the bridge of her nose between his thumb and forefinger. Jefferson's stonewalling was becoming tiresome. "Mr. Jefferson—" Jefferson's lips thinned at Sulu's omission of his title. "—we do not have time for this. The Vorlons could come at any moment and we must know what's going on. Please continue, Lieutenant Saavik."

The half-Vulcan and half-Romulan lieutenant nodded her acceptance, causing Jefferson to grimace in disapproval. "We believe that a race from the planet M-113 called the Maizlish wanted a doomsday weapon because they were losing a war and they wished to deny the victors access to the prize they fought so hard to win on their world. Therefore, they hired a Vulcan scientist—"

Chekov gaped with wide eyes. "A Vulcan?!"

Even Tuvok held a hint of surprise and distaste in his face.

"Yes, a Vulcan, distasteful as it may be. Specifically, T'Uerell."

Sulu leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table anxiously. "The T'Uerell? The same T'Uerell as in the Romulan War?"

Chapel and Chekov shifted uncomfortably in their seat. They remembered the encounter that the Enterprise had with the infamous Vulcan scientist in the last year of Kirk's first five-year mission.

"Indeed," confirmed Saavik. "That particular information has been classified at the highest levels in Starfleet. T'Uerell's lab was on Regulus IV and the bloodworms somehow escaped her control."

"A very expensive mistake," breathed Chapel. "…if it was a mistake."

Jefferson spoke up then. "Starfleet Command was concerned about the bloodworm infection as a possible military threat. Our mandate was to investigate the possible military use of the bloodworms and what defenses might be effective against them."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow while Sulu and Chekov exchanged a glance, and Akaar scoffed. "Does that mandate say you have to do that here, of all places?" asked Akaar incredulously. "If the Vorlons caught you, we'd all be in it!"

Sulu frowned, watching Jefferson with disgust. "The Vorlons are exactly why you're here, aren't you?"

The accusation hung in the air. Unhappiness crept through Saavik's face.

"This is on a need-to-know basis," said Jefferson coolly.

"I believe we're beyond that, Mr. Jefferson. That need-to-know basis cost you a ship and us a good man. Therefore we definitely have a need to know."

"Indeed," agreed Saavik, earning a scowl from Jefferson. "Our mission's mandate required us to find a way to control the bloodworms…so we could use them as a weapon."

A knot formed in Sulu's stomach. He had subconsciously suspected it but he shied away from that. It challenged everything he believed about Starfleet and the Federation. Now he felt sick.

"Captain," Jefferson spoke candidly, "can you imagine what would happen if the Vorlon Empire went to war with the Federation?"

Chekov said, "Judging by the Shadows, by what Vorlon technology we could see and by the local legends of the Vorlons, it'd be a very difficult war."

Jefferson slammed an open hand on the tabletop. "We'd lose the war!" He looked at the faces around the triangular table. "The Shadows were destroyed in the last galactic war in this universe, but they still have a few ships. Look at the difficulties we've had with them! Captain Sulu, you yourself experienced firsthand a Shadow bioship. The Vorlons have entire fleets of bioships that are on par with the Shadows and they still have an entire empire of resources to draw upon!" He leaned forward ominously. "The Vorlons are vipers. They cannot be trusted."

Sulu raised an eyebrow. He noted Chekov's grim expression and turned back to Jefferson. "Go on."

"The Vorlons have manipulated galactic affairs for centuries, if not thousands of years. It's likely they have been manipulating the local races for thousands of years because we've discovered genetic markers in the local races that indicate a sector-wide past effort in genetic engineering. They might be the reason why this universe's Humanity has a large minority of telepaths while our own Humanity boasts only a few telepaths. Tell me, what did people see at Babylon 5 when Kosh revealed himself?"

"An angel," replied Chapel without thinking.

"To be precise," chimed in Tuvok, "a being of light that appeared to be an angel or a winged deity."

"And what did Admiral Kirk and Spock see?" prompted Jefferson.

"They saw…an energy being," said Chekov.

Sulu nodded. "By their description, Kosh looked like an Organian in its true form. An Organian with energy tendrils that were like tentacles. For a moment, Spock thought he saw an ancient Vulcan god, while Kirk also thought he saw an angel…only for a moment."

"Exactly." Jefferson seemed to feel vindicated. "They are taking advantage of local belief systems. Just like the energy being at Shakaree."

Tuvok cocked his head in thought. "That is a flawed comparison, Captain Jefferson. The Shakaree being claimed to be the creator god that is featured in the mythology of many worlds, including Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, and Tellar. The being clearly intended harm for us. The Vorlons, so far, do not show that intention."

"The operative words are 'so far,' Ensign. Do any of you know the Vorlons? Does anyone here know them? I mean, really know them? Or really trust them?"

There was no answer from any of the Excelsior crewmembers. Jefferson nodded. "See? The Vorlons are supposed to be Lords of Order while the Shadows are supposed to be Lords of Chaos, and they're supposed to have fought wars with each other many times. Many worlds and races got stuck in the middle and many of them went extinct." He spread his arms as if to indicate the Excelsior, and by extension, the Federation. "We are outsiders, interlopers. Lords of Order do not like anything that could disrupt their beloved order. Just by being here, we are disrupting their order. They will move to correct the situation. We must prevent that from happening."

Sulu frowned. "That is the goal of your mission here, isn't it?"

Jefferson's answer was intense. "Captain Sulu, we are unprepared to face hostile fleets of powerful bioships. Tensions with the Romulan Empire are running high. We have a de facto war with the Centauri Republic, the Earth Alliance and the Shadows. We just suffered an incursion by a new race called the Borg. We simply cannot afford a war with the Vorlon Empire. It would be far too expensive for all of us in terms of lives, ships and resources. Not just the Federation but also all of our allies. We want to solve the problem of the Vorlon Empire. You want to solve the problem of the Majestic? We could send the Majestic into Vorlon space."

"And unleash the bloodworms on the Vorlons?" gasped Dr. Chapel. "You must be mad!"

"Actually," Saavik interjected, "that's part of our orders. We are to aim the Majestic as a weapon at the Vorlon worlds."

"Orders??" Gabler could not believe what he was hearing.

"Indeed. The orders come from…a secret section of Starfleet Security."

Sulu was silent for a long time, digesting the information Jefferson and Saavik had just revealed. He studied the space between his arms on the tabletop. By tacitly allowing the orders to come through and by allowing the Majestic to come through the inter-universal rift with its deadly cargo, Starfleet Command morally implicated itself. After a while, he looked up at Christine Chapel, Pavel Chekov and Leonard James Akaar. He could see disgust warring with rage on Akaar's face. This information was offending his Capellan sense of honor. "Lieutenant Akaar. Please escort Captain Jefferson and Lieutenant Saavik to their quarters. See that everyone from the Majestic are restricted to their quarters."

Akaar grunted an assent. "Come with me, sirs." The tone in the last word was clearly not meant to be respectful.

To no one in particular, Sulu wondered, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

-/\-

Sitting in his command chair on the bridge, Hikaru Sulu felt repelled by the militarism of the Majestic's mission. The reasons used by Captain Jefferson were compelling but the mission clashed with the Federation's ideals and with Starfleet's mission to preserve all life and to exhaust all options before taking military actions. This mission risked starting a war between the Federation and the Vorlon Empire, never mind its chances of success. As Jefferson pointed out, such a war would be disastrous for the Federation.

Preemptive strikes punished people not for what they have done or were doing but for what they might have done or could do. That was a very nebulous reasoning, often used in the Terror Wars of the 21st century. It was a policy that had the potential to lead states down dark paths.

He felt sick at the idea that the Federation would adopt such a policy, even if unofficially.

The navigation officer, Lieutenant Angelo Tiffe, turned around in his chair. "Captain, I think I found a black hole."

"Where?"

Angelo obliged by putting up a starchart on the main viewscreen. A small crosshair blinked in an area that was outside the territories of the Earth Alliance and the Centauri Republic. "It's near Omega Fornacis. In our universe, it'd be in the Tiburonian Sector."

Sulu recognized the black hole's location. The Enterprise encountered it on the way to Starbase 9 and it flung the starship to 1969 Earth.

Chekov, like Sulu, realized that there was a problem with the black hole. "That's on the other side of Centauri space, Mr. Tiffe. Isn't there any other black hole that's, you know, closer?"

Tiffe nervously looked down at his navigation console. "It'd take days, if not weeks, for us to find black holes in this universe even if we use our own Federation starcharts to find counterparts. I did find one that's closer but it's…in Vorlon space."

That was unacceptable. Sulu understood why the navigator did not bring that to his attention earlier. It ran the risk of encountering Vorlons and of having the Excelsior accidentally carrying out the Majestic's mission. By all reports, any ship that entered Vorlon space disappeared. The captain was not fond of the idea of himself and his crew disappearing forever. "If we choose the Fornax black star, we'd have to tow the Majestic behind us at high warp. It will be a long time before we reach it." Sulu shook his head, rejecting the proposal. "The bloodworms could have the chance to escape the ship and get loose in the galaxy."

At the right side of the bridge, Akaar swung around in his chair at the tactical station. "Why not just toss the ship into that red star?"

Chekov looked sharply at the Capellan. "Have you been listening, Mr. Akaar? The ship would be destroyed before plunging into the star itself. The bloodworms would then infect the entire corona. We're trying to solve the problem, not create a new red-giant-sized problem."

"We'd be buying time," Akaar insisted. "It'd take billennia before the star goes nova. We'd have all that time to find solutions for the bloodworm problem."

"A red-giant-sized problem," Sulu argued, using Chekov's words. "This star seems to be extremely old. It might not even take millennia for it to go nova. When it does, the problem would spread throughout this sector, infecting worlds and ships. The end of carbon-based life."

Akaar looked peeved and frustrated. "What about asking the race that made the bloodworms a weapon? Saavik called them the Maizlish. They might know something about cleaning this up."

"Ms. Rand?"

Janice Rand turned to her station and checked the files. For a while, she refined the search parameters and double-checked. "Captain, the library computer says the Maizlish are extinct. Their homeworld was M-113. Sir, that's where we found that salt vampire."

Now Sulu knew why the planet's name seemed familiar. It was a dead world full of ruins. Since there were no bloodworms on the planet, the inhabitants must have been killed off without unleashing that terrible weapon. "So there's that. It's all up to us."

"Sir," Rand said hesitantly, "if we want to reach that black hole as fast as possible, why don't we use hyperspace? It would be a shorter trip than at normal warp."

"Well, Ms. Azleya?" Sulu put the question to the Denobulan woman stationed at the engineering console.

Terim Azleya frowned as she thought about the suggestion. "We could try. But…the Majestic has no power so it doesn't have its structural integrity field. The gravimetric shears in hyperspace could tear the ship apart. That will be guaranteed if we go at hyperwarp. The bloodworms could adapt to the gases and gravity currents of hyperspace…"

"Making it one vast spawning field for the bloodworms," finished Sulu. He shook his head at the challenges. "What a mess we've gotten ourselves into."

"Captain," called Ensign Tuvok from his science station. "I am detecting an energy surge and a subspace distortion." The Vulcan looked up, betraying nothing of his emotions. "It is a jumppoint forming."

"Visual!" ordered Sulu.

The main viewscreen's image of the red giant star and the adrift Majestic switched to an image of an empty star field. A massive blue jumppoint bloomed open. A small star seemed to flash in the darkness of its depth, signaling the approach of a vessel.

A Vorlon mothership came out of the jumppoint, flanked by two smaller cruisers and a small swarm of fighters.

Sulu stood up from his command chair, staring at the image with wide eyes. The Vorlons!

The four appendages on the largest vessel seemed to be reaching out for them all. Chekov grasped the railing around the bridge's central pit.

Janice Rand held her earpiece deep in her ear. "Captain! The Vorlons are demanding we leave this area or surrender."

"Stall 'em! Explain we're on a rescue mission!"

The Vorlon ships began to take positions around both the Excelsior and the Majestic, with the mothership facing the Excelsior squarely.

"Tuvok! Tractor beam! Take hold of the Majestic!" Sulu turned to the helmsman, Kruton Lojur. "Lieutenant Commander, open a jumppoint!"

"Sir—" Tuvok protested in surprise.

Rand interrupted, "Sir, they're saying unless we leave in five minutes, we must surrender or they'll open fire!"

"Shields! Arm phasers!" Sulu pointed at Tuvok. "Tractor beam, now!"

On the main viewscreen, they could see the Vorlon ships beginning to discharge green energy from the end-points of their appendages to create a ball of energy in the space between them.

The blue shimmering light of a tractor beam reached out from the Excelsior to latch onto the Majestic. The lights on the Excelsior's bridge began to dim as the starship built up the power needed to open a hyperspace window.

"Azleya, work with Engineering! Do everything you can to give us power without costing us the shields, tractor beam or phasers. If you absolutely must, take power from life support and phasers."

The lights on the starship dimmed further until emergency lighting activated. Soon, a tiny pinpoint tear in the fabric of space-time appeared. Some of the red gases of hyperspace spilled out as the hole expanded. The nearby Vorlon fighters retreated to a safe distance from the forming hyperspace window, still energizing their weapons.

As soon as the window was large enough, the Excelsior turned sideway away from the Vorlon mothership, drawing the Majestic close behind itself, and fled into the window. The window instantly shrunk, pulling the red gases into itself, and faded into nothing.

"All stop," ordered Sulu as soon as they were in hyperspace. The starship rumbled and lurched in the hyperspace turbulences.

"Reading all stop," confirmed Lojur.

"Captain," said Chekov, "if ve stay here, the Vorlons will come in. Ve're not buying much time."

"I don't intend to stay here. Ensign Tuvok, find the heaviest gravity field. It should be right next to us. Azleya, extend shields around the Majestic. Do whatever you can to protect it from the gravity shears."

"What are you trying to do?" Chekov wanted to know.

Before Sulu could answer, Tuvok reported, "There is a very large and powerful gravity field on the portside."

"Take us in."

Lojur and Tiffe looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Mr. Lojur, bring us to the center of that field. Ms. Azleya, I'm relying on you to keep the Majestic tractored and in one piece."

"Yes, sir."

The turbulence increased as the starship turned into the gravity field. Quickly, the turbulence got so bad that the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up. This forced everyone put on their seat belts and harnesses. Commander Chekov took an empty seat and did likewise just in time as the deck jumped with a gravity impact.

"Sir," said Azleya, "I'm reading hull stresses on the Majestic. Any deeper into the gravity field, we could be looking at hull breaches there."

She did not have to spell out what would happen if the Majestic's hull breached. Sulu nodded as he gripped his chair arms against the increasingly violent turbulence. He said, "I think this is far enough. Lojur, all stop. Increase power to the shields."

"Reading all stop. Shields at maximum."

"Open a jumppoint."

"Sir?" This time, Lojur looked at the captain as if he doubted his sanity. "The Vorlons are still there."

Tiffe added, "According to my calculations and readings, we're going to come out inside the red-giant star." He was also staring at Sulu as if to question the captain's sanity.

Sulu's head snapped back against his seat's headrest as his ship shook around. He wondered if he would get whiplash for his troubles. "That's the point. The moment the jumppoint is large enough, throw the Majestic through it."

Akaar realized what Sulu was proposing. "If we can't throw the ship at the sun for risk of infecting its corona, why not throw it inside the sun?"

"Exactly. Let's get on to it before the Vorlons find us in hyperspace. I hear that combat is not safe here."

Once more, Lojur caused the lights to dim again as he formed a new hyperspace window. At the same time, Tuvok used the tractor beam to move the Majestic closer to the forming jumppoint. This time, lightning bolts seemed to arc all over the jumppoint. Immediately, extremely white-hot energized plasma and glowing blue solid helium fragments began to spill through the jumppoint. There were heavy lustrous veins of glowing gray and silvery metal in the fragments. Mixed in among the fragments were broken dark reflective debris. Many of them impacted the Excelsior's extended shields.

"Fascinating," commented Tuvok as he calmly held onto his console for support. "What we are seeing are pieces of a star's outer core. Plasma, helium, iron, nickel, silicon and some neutronium."

"It may be fascinating, but we're losing shield strength!" retorted Azleya.

"Toss the Majestic now before there's too much sun!" Sulu watched the scene anxiously.

As the shields glowed brightly under the solar assault, the tractor beam reversed polarity, becoming a repulsor beam. The Majestic shot away from the Excelsior into the window. Some of the solar fragments hit the Miranda-class ship, tearing off a warp nacelle. Her hull bent under the pressure of the impacts and the gravity turbulence. The whole ship glowed from the intense heat. The window closed the instant the Majestic was through it. But not before the liquid plasma spill became as water rushing from an open faucet.

The strength of the gravity turbulence jumped up. Lojur and Tiffe struggled together to keep the Excelsior stable.

"Get us out of here!"

Lojur executed Sulu's order almost before the captain was finished. The starship pivoted on its axis, aiming its bow back the way it came, and flew forth on impulse power, shields flaring against the spreading plasma and core fragments.

Tuvok said, "Hyperspace in this area is…" He faintly frowned. "…having a seizure for lack of a better description. It appears that our action has affected the star."

-/\-

The Vorlon flotilla had powered down their weapons. The Vorlons were scanning for the two escaped Federation starships when they noticed that there was something wrong with the red giant star.

The red star's surface seemed to convulse, pulsate and boil. The boiling action became massive and it began to throw off helium flashes. Flare activity increased exponentially.

The Vorlon commander decided it was time to leave the area. The massive mothership turned as it opened a jumppoint. Its companions, the two light cruisers and the single squadron of fighters hurried their way into the orange-yellow jumppoint, followed by the mothership. The jumppoint closed behind the Vorlons, leaving the star alone with its fate.

The red giant star continued to violently throb and boil. Soon, each of the star's magnetic poles shot hot neutrino jets. They became large twin explosions as the star shed its outer layers. For the duration of a brief moment, the star's temperature quickly rose from red-hot to white-hot and beyond until it seemed to shine mostly with ultraviolet and x-ray light. This caused the star to become almost transparent as it shrunk for the briefest of moments, collapsing. The collapse instantly reversed into a brilliant explosion, plowing into the already expelled cooler gases, creating a light show that would drown out all of the stars in the sector.

While all this was happening, hyperspace seized and convulsed in tandem with the star until there was a sector-wide hurricane-like storm that made hyperspace travel too hazardous for ships of any race that was not as advanced as the Middle-born Races. Even First One ships would still struggle through the hyperspace gale-force storm.

Zwiest System

The local jumpgate activated and opened a vortex. The Excelsior came rushing out of it, tumbling end over end.

As the lights came back to full strength, Sulu groaned from the pain of being thrashed around in his seat harness. "Everyone all right?"

Everyone, except for Tuvok, groaned in response. Nevertheless, even Tuvok was rubbing sore spots.

"We have escaped the shockwaves and storms in hyperspace." Tuvok studied his science readings for a moment before continuing, "It would appear that the red giant star has gone nova."

"How is that possible?" wondered Chekov.

"It is likely that the Majestic's antimatter tanks, its likely warp core breach, and the star material spilling into hyperspace all conspired to achieve this result."

"We've murdered a star to save the galaxy from the bloodworms," breathed Chapel.

"What happened to the Vorlon fleet?" asked Sulu with concern. If Vorlons died because of their action, there would likely be hell to pay.

"Unknown."

Beeps sounded from the science and helm stations. "Sir, the jumpgate," said Lojur.

"Put it onscreen."

Instantly, they could tell that the gate was feeling the effects of the supernova in hyperspace. Electricity arced all over the four struts of the Centauri-built jumpgate until they became veritable lightning bolts. It was as if the jumpgate had become a giant Tesla coil. Several of the panels bent and tore away until the electric storm faded away.

Tuvok arched an eyebrow with interest in this latest phenomenon. "The jumpgate can no longer be utilized. Repairs will be required. However, the gate may cease to be useful when the supernova effects reach this system several years in the future." The Vulcan imperceptibly frowned. "I failed to realize this could happen."

Sulu smiled at Tuvok's self-chastisement. "Don't worry, we won't report you to the Vulcan Perfectionists' Association."

Tuvok glanced at Sulu archly with both eyebrows raised. "With all due respect, Captain, were there such an entity, it need only be called the Vulcan Association to avoid redundancy."

Sulu stared, dumbfounded. He turned to Chekov. "I'll admit it: That last line got to me."