Author's Notes: As I mentioned in the previous Chapter, this story is a sequel (of sorts) to my previous effort "Star Trek: Dark Archon". I am trying my best, however, to keep this effort as much of a stand-alone story as possible. As a reader you will not completely follow events properly unless you understand several major plot points from "Archon": (1) Who are the Preservers? and (2) What is their subspace network?
1. The Preservers were first introduced in the original series episode "The Paradise Syndrome". In that episode, an obelisk that the Preservers had left behind on a planet long ago is discovered by the Enterprise. Spock spent much of the episode trying to decode the "glyph-like" markings on the obelisk, which he speculated were an unusual combination of math and musical notes.
2. In "Dark Archon" the Preservers show up again, and much of the story centers around a hidden realm… a subspace network that is essentially a gigantic, inter-galactic Internet. Captain Data discovers it by properly deciphering the Preserver glyph language. The network exists primarily in subspace so that – as with warp drive – communications and other functions can occur at faster-than-light velocity. The network also allows people utilizing it to "bend the normal rules of physics" out in normal space.
This chapter is a "connector". It has a passage in it based primarily on Picard's memories from an incident early in "Dark Archon". If you haven't read that story and need to know a little bit more about how and what this network is, the connector should help you. If you did read "Dark Archon", then the connector will serve as a reminder of just how truly remarkable the Preserver subspace realm truly is.
Star Trek: Reign Of Terror
Chapter IV: Catspaw
Cargo Vessel Ha'Husia, Azimuth City Spaceport
Acting Captain's Log, Stardate 48247.9. Although I have never considered myself the best choice for Captain, I'm doing the best I can to complete the remainder of the Ha'Husia's scheduled run. We are currently parked at a space port on the surface of Denali Prime. I've never visited this place before, but things have gone smoothly so far. We're awaiting the arrival of dockworkers who will offload several crates of spare parts from our hold and then transfer additional gravitational generators to us as payment. After that we'll be on our way to our final destination, where we will meet up with an independent third party - someone appointed by a mysterious, unknown buyer to pick up the generators and our supply of Delacon-G medication.
Miles Edward O'Brien paused - tempted to say more - but finally shut down the log recorder. He leaned back in the command seat and sighed heavily with obvious discomfort.
"That was nicely done Captain," commented an amused Kira Nerys.
"No it wasn't, but thanks anyway for the support," growled O'Brien. He shook his head with dismay while watching her studying his edgy nature and harrumphed loudly. "When I was assigned to finish this ship's cargo run, I never for an instant suspected that the entire command staff intended to ride along with me. Commander Sisko's decision to accompany Data and Captain Janeway in the Yellowjacket... well, let's just say that has complicated matters somewhat."
All three of them were dressed in Bajoran civilian uniforms, with O'Brien reluctantly taking center stage in the Captain's chair. Major Kira was seated at the helm and communications station near the front of the snug, box-shaped cargo vessel's bridge. Next to her, Jadzia Dax was manning the navigation console. Other than the three of them, the Ha'Husia's small bridge was completely deserted. It had been that way since their departure from Deep Space Nine - the freighter could be run by twelve people so the majority of its crew were generally busy with their regular duties on other decks.
Every once in a while, however, the door to the lift would snap open and one or two crewmembers would arrive to monitor the vessel's lower priority systems. Whenever that happened, the conversation between the Deep Space Nine crewmen would switch instantly back to business. To the remaining crewmembers aboard the Ha'Husia they were last minute appointees, serving in response to a direct request from the Bajoran provisional government.
Lt. Jadzia Dax chuckled as she glanced briefly in O'Brien's direction. "I would think that you would welcome our assistance Chief," she said sincerely. As usual, her lengthy dark hair was tied in a loose ponytail and fastened with a clasp to keep it out of her way while she worked.
"I do appreciate the assistance... really I do..." O'Brien paused in mid-sentence awkwardly as his thoughts drifted briefly back to his debriefing with Captain Data and the unforeseen conflict of interest he now found himself directly in the middle of. He struggled briefly to come up with an explanation for his discomfort and once again chose to be as honest as he possibly could. "As both of you know, I've never been comfortable in a command role," he admitted. "So I will play the part you want me to play, but I seriously doubt on this trip that I will convince anyone I'm anything but an engineer."
"But it's perfect," decided Kira optimistically. "This is much more believable to the Bajoran members of this crew when they see you as the grumpy Starfleet guy stuck with an unwanted assignment. Just continue to grumble and complain a lot and you'll do fine."
"I don't... complain," O'Brien grumbled crabbily and with more than a little irritation. "Much."
So far there had been very little to encourage them during the voyage. They had made seven stops already, completing their cargo deliveries on time and precisely as scheduled. Sometimes work pods would dock with them in orbit and on other occasions the freighter would need to land on the surface of a planet, moon, or asteroid. All along the way everything had been routine, with the remaining Bajoran crewmembers fulfilling their duties efficiently on the mostly repaired, battered cargo carrier. If anyone in Captain Keyoun's crew knew anything notable about the assignment, they had so far declined to share that information with anyone else.
The previous destinations they had visited were all smaller space stations and colonies. Azimuth City, however, was a sprawling, massive urban area encompassing dozens of square kilometers. There were at least a half dozen landing ports for cargo ships scattered throughout the various business districts. The Ha'Husia had descended to a landing point near the Southeastern corner of the city, at which point the local air traffic control station had transmitted instructions to wait patiently. Depending on whether or not other ships ahead of them were on schedule, the wait could take as little as several minutes or as long as several days. So far no one had contacted them since their initial landing, and that alone was enough to leave the normally busy Chief O'Brien agitated and noticeably impatient.
Dax double-checked her console before nodding with satisfaction. "The Yellowjacket has just arrived and is landing at a shuttle pad several kilometers north of us," she told them. "If we need help, all we have to do is signal them and help can be here in a matter of minutes."
"Hopefully we won't need them," mused an optimistic Kira. "But it was nice of Data to offer his assistance and allow Commander Sisko and Odo to covertly accompany him. The provisional government on Bajor is understandably eager for us to discover exactly who is killing and abducting so many civilians. I'm also very interested to know just who is at the root of this problem." Her tone was very serious as she continued monitoring communications while casting an anxious glance in Dax's general direction.
The Trill studied the ship's latest readouts carefully and shrugged. "Precision during this assignment may be something we can only wish for. These internal sensors are terrible," she noted. "If we need to track down anyone aboard this ship, it's not going to be easy. There are plenty of loopholes in this system compared to the accuracy that we're used to with Starfleet equipment."
"If the docking authority takes much longer to get back to us, I'll build you a new system," the Chief promised her with a dry smile. He laughed sharply as he realized how much time had passed. "If I had known we'd have to wait this long after landing, I would have started right then and there and completely upgraded the entire ship by now."
Major Kira smiled reassuringly, noting the Chief's continued discomfort as an undercover freighter Captain. "Truthfully Chief, I don't think that anyone on this ship knows anything relevant. If Keyoun was involved with Quark, then neither of them would say anything outside of their immediate loop. People who run shady deals don't exactly announce their plans to everyone around them."
"He was involved with Quark," rumbled O'Brien. "That bartender of ours doesn't throw out the red carpet - or donate holosuite time - to just anyone. I'm surprised Odo hasn't hammered the truth out of that bartender of ours yet... he usually does a better job of that."
"This is all legal... a simple business deal," said Jadzia with a mischievous smile. She was quoting the Ferengi's repeated pleas for mercy after his interrogation at the hands of the DS9 Constable. "They found a buyer who is willing to pay considerably more than market price in exchange for the speedy delivery of merchandise. So Quark doesn't know anything relevant... he's just doing business."
"Of course he doesn't," O'Brien chuckled darkly. "As usual, he's completely innocent."
A brief silence temporarily settled over the small command center as Dax continued to monitor shipboard activity. Kira watched the communications board carefully, and had also tapped into the security video feed that monitored the immediate area on the landing pad surrounding their small vessel. Wherever she looked, there was still no sign of any movement. O'Brien had a history of hating long waits, but not as much as he loathed simply sitting around with nothing to do. He did his duty anyway on this day, sitting rigidly in the center seat and impatiently waiting for something to happen. Another half hour passed - a seeming eternity for the bored Chief - and still no one from the Azimuth space port's work force showed up to claim their cargo.
"It's getting late in the day, even on this planet," Kira pointed out to O'Brien, noticing his increasingly edgy mood. "You've been on your feet a long time Chief - ever since we left Deep Space Nine. Why don't you go down to Captain Keyoun's quarters and take a nap. We've already searched it, so it should be a safe enough place for you to catch up on your rest. Dax and I will continue to monitor everything from up here and contact you as soon as there's something to report."
The Chief nodded, rising from the Captain's chair and stretching his fatigued muscles. "Thanks Major. That sounds like a good idea," he replied. "I'm pretty used to a busy day, so I only need a couple of hours." He tugged at the bottom of his shirt sharply and smiled. "But I'm still the Captain on this trip, so be certain you do report in if anything interesting turns up."
"Oh you know we will," said Kira with an amused wink, watching him enter the lift.
O'Brien awoke several hours later and instantly noticed that the temperature in the dimly lit Captain's quarters had dropped noticeably. Eerie wisps of fog emerged from his mouth as he exhaled, and the hair on the back of his forearms had stiffened in response to the sudden cold. He was lying on his back and attempted to reach for the heavy blankets he had earlier shrugged aside. Quite amazingly, however, the Chief discovered that for some unknown reason he could not move. He couldn't even rub the sleep out of his eyes, since both of his arms - along with his entire body - were pinned to the mattress by an unseen force of some kind. It felt as though a giant, invisible hand was pressing down from above and holding him firmly in place. The support frame underneath his mattress was creaking in response to the enormous pressure suddenly forcing it toward the deck plating below.
Fighting back an instinctive urge to panic, O'Brien realized that the gravity within the small room had significantly increased in intensity. Still pinned firmly to his bed the Chief's gaze shifted to his right, where his tricorder and hand phaser lay innocently atop a small wooden nightstand. If I could only turn the tricorder on, his mind shouted in protest. If I could only reach my weapon. The pressure of the raised gravity had climbed to such an elevated level that it was becoming difficult even to breathe regularly. The Chief gasped for air as the pressure on his chest and ribcage continued to increase.
Help! he screamed within his mind. Someone please help me! I'm trapped in here!
Glancing down toward the upturned toes of his feet, O'Brien noticed the room's furniture and opposite wall in the background rippling with some sort of visible distortion. Most of the remaining night lighting in the room flickered erratically and then went dark as something completely unknown appeared seemingly from nowhere less than two meters from the foot of his bed. A tall humanoid figure covered completely in black robes slowly took shape, its angered crimson eyes peeking out from beneath its dark, hooded robe and fixing their terrible gaze on him. The creature glided slowly forward until it was just inches from the foot of his bed. There the mysterious thing paused with its head lowered, casting a sinister downturned gaze at the trapped human on the bed in front of it.
O'Brien again fought back a fresh wave of panic and focused every ounce of effort he had left into reaching toward his right and the nearby phaser pistol.
It was useless... he could barely move the tips of his fingers.
Julian Bashir had busied himself checking out the supplies and inventory stored in a medium-sized room that currently served as the Ha'Husia's tiny Sickbay. The renovated area had obviously once been a series of three or four crew quarters, until the bulkheads and support pillars had been removed to make room for a basic set of bio-beds and a limited amount of medical equipment. It wasn't much of an infirmary, but Bashir had seen worse on space-faring vessels over the years. It was always amazing to him just how many people never planned for emergencies... how they simply expected everything to always go right.
The Doctor carefully removed what looked like a large briefcase from a refrigeration compartment and opened it, studying the dozens and dozens of vials of Delacon-G stored inside. With the drug in so concentrated a state, he estimated that there were at least seventy thousand inoculations contained within. Picking up a medical tricorder, the Doctor activated the device and began a slow, meticulous scan of the substance contained within each of the transparent storage cylinders. Behind him, the lone Bajoran physician assigned to the cargo vessel watched curiously and said nothing as he observed Bashir complete his latest inspection of the rare but valuable medication.
"There's absolutely no sign that the drug inside these containers is losing any of its potency," he told the tall, spindly male assistant. "When we finally do get to where we're going, this will be in good shape."
The Bajoran physician nodded in response. "I'm well past the end of my shift," he told Bashir. "So I'll be in my quarters if you need me."
Bashir carefully closed the case containing the precious vials of medication and returned it to its refrigerated storage unit. He had just set the case comfortably inside and was about to close and lock the door when something very hard and heavy struck him on the back of his head. Uttering a small grunt of pain, the Doctor pitched forward onto the storage unit and then lost consciousness as his body slid awkwardly down to the floor of the small Sickbay.
Seated in the Yellowjacket, Commander Benjamin Sisko and "Lt. Commander" Data continued to patiently wait as their small ship repeatedly scanned the nearby Bajoran cargo vessel. Since their arrival everything had been quiet for the most part, and all the while Odo paced impatiently back and forth behind them. Data had suggested that the Janeway and Paris holograms wait in the runabout's central passenger compartment. He wasn't exactly eager for Sisko to have a prolonged discussion with either of them; it was still bothering him that the Commander had insisted upon accompanying them on the journey in the first place. The android couldn't blame Sisko for wanting to personally insure the safety of the people under his command, but his ongoing presence made the android's job much tougher. They had maintained their silent watch for several hours after landing, and it was only a matter of time before the two of them would butt heads. Data had therefore prepared for all contingencies and was fairly certain that he could properly control the situation.
He had even decided that it would be possible to tell Sisko a little bit more about the true nature of his mission and the time travel involved, but he absolutely did not want to go down that road unless he was left with no other option. It was highly probable that he was going to have to use his enhanced, internal neural link to interact with the Yellowjacket's main computer. The Commander would probably accept his explanation of a 29th century interactive link of this nature - certainly technology of that sort had been experimented with even here in the 24th century. It was the existence and capabilities of the hidden subspace Preserver network that truly concerned the android, since his internal transceiver had also been enhanced to connect directly to it during an emergency situation. He had orders preventing anyone from this timeframe - even Chief O'Brien or Doctor Bashir - from knowing about that ancient realm and all of its wondrous capabilities.
Keeping the subspace network a secret would be difficult if the people around him suddenly witnessed him doing miraculous things at the snap of a finger. He would have to be extremely cautious.
Data's thoughts drifted briefly back to that amazing time - approximately one year in his past - when he had first encountered the dangerous Sentinel and his dark plan to destroy all life in the Milky Way galaxy. He had rallied the survivors of Starfleet and together they had managed to defeat the powerful alien and his destructive temporal incursion. In doing so they had inadvertently discovered the hidden subspace network and all of its capabilities - something that historically was not supposed to happen for many centuries to come. Starfleet had now been placed in a position where its actions - even so far in the Preservers past - could have major consequences on timelines that stretched farther into the future than they could ever hope to explore.
The Sentinel had been used to interacting with the Preserver network whenever he needed to... almost all of his shipboard activities centered around its capabilities, and his culture relied directly on the non-stop use of its resources. The alien had even worn a device on his head that significantly amplified his neural activity and allowed him to interact directly with the network. For a brief time, Captain Picard had gotten hold of that device by taking it from the Sentinel and using it to connect his own brain with that strange, new world. What he had witnessed within his mind had truly astonished him, and he had once shared his memory of those experiences with Commander Frank Roberts in great detail. As part of the information package downloaded by Data from the Preserver's distant future, Roberts had included Picard's astonishing explanation of what his human mind had observed while linked to the alien realm...
A strange explosion of strange lights and sounds filled his mind, and the experience to Picard felt like some sort of waking dream - only it rushed by much more swiftly. Thousands upon thousands of voices could be heard, and this event reminded him briefly of his encounter with the Borg collective even though this experience differed completely. The Borg spoke together, with their words and voice united as one. These voices, by contrast, were the voices of thousands of individuals who all seemed to be speaking at once. Some of them were shouting, others whispered quietly, but most of them were mingled together in a random, completely indistinguishable haze of conversation.
As though an image was projected on the back of his eyeballs Picard's vision cleared unexpectedly, but he did not see the corridor that he was in or the people that he knew still surrounded him. What he did see was something else entirely... images that were not his memories, but something unexplained that was undoubtedly fed directly into his mind by the headset. Somehow, he decided, the electronics he wore allowed him to see with his mind and not his eyes.
A torrential flood of streaking stars flew past his vision, followed by a non-stop flow of planets, faces, stellar objects, alien species... it was all there and then not there, moving past his thoughts too quickly for him to concentrate on any specific details. The experience was almost overwhelming and the Captain cried out suddenly as he felt a sharp stab of pain in his head - there was simply too much that he was seeing being shown to him far too quickly and his mind was fighting back using the pain as a warning. Gritting his teeth, he made a sincere attempt to focus his attention on his primary objective. As though an imaginary switch had been flipped, all of the images rushing by suddenly slowed to a crawl.
Home.
The word stuck in his thoughts and Picard seized upon it, demanding that the device on his head show him the way home.
How do I get out of here and back to where I belong? He asked himself. And it.
Like a colorful blooming flower, a vast new image formed in his mind and expanded outward until it was the central image blocking out all of the others.
Jean-Luc Picard found himself looking down on a well furnished room from above, as though he were part of its ceiling. Antique chairs surrounding a beautiful table occupied one side of the spacious room, while the other had a colorful, hand woven carpet spread out on a hardwood floor in front of a glowing fireplace. Children's toys were scattered all over the carpet, and two small boys played there by the warmth of the fire, giggling as they shared their fun together. Abruptly one of them grew frustrated and shoved the smaller of the two children and he fell forward, his anger rising quickly as a result of the shove. "Don't be so mean to me Robert," the smaller child snapped. "Ma ma has said on numerous occasions that you are supposed to treat me better."
The other boy chuckled at the indignation so apparent in the other. "Don't be silly Jean-Luc," he retorted scornfully. "You're such a small slip of a boy... we've got to toughen you up or you'll be a weakling all the rest of your life."
The home that WAS, an unidentified voice whispered in his mind.
The image of Picard's childhood vanished as quickly as it had appeared, disappearing as though someone had placed a hand alongside of it and simply shoved it aside. In its place he was now looking at the saucer section of the Enterprise-D, crashed and helpless on the surface of an unknown world. Some of his crew - both men and women - were walking around on top of the saucer as they waved to shuttles passing above them. In the background he could see the dark, ruined trail the ship had carved into the ground as it had descended from orbit and smashed into the ground below. The crashed saucer had emerged from a wooded region, leaving a sizeable number of broken trees and crushed vegetation in its wake. Whatever had happened had been significant and the damage to his ship tremendous.
Again the image flashed away for something entirely new. This time he was looking at a new Enterprise, the NCC-1701-E, as it flew through space and successfully attacked a Borg cube. It was a beautiful starship, more streamlined and obviously combat ready as compared to the Enterprise-D, but certainly this new vessel was not quite as elegant and dedicated to exploration as its predecessor had been. The Enterprise-E, by contrast, boasted many more teeth in its arsenal of weapons and prowled the galaxy daring others to mess with it... her crew had been left with no choice over the years but to continually improve their defensive weaponry.
Sovereign-Class, the unfamiliar voice whispered again. The new home that IS for you the original.
He watched with fascination as his perspective began pulling rapidly back and away from the Enterprise-E. Almost instantly the Sovereign-Class starship dwindled to a tiny pinpoint of light, and the nearby yellow sun of the Sol system swiftly followed suit into the background of stars beyond. The image kept showing him a wider and wider perspective of the stars... first the Orion arm of the Milky Way became visible, followed quickly by its neighboring spiral arms and finally the entire Milky Way dominated his vision with all its billions of stars.
Jean-Luc watched the image in his mind reverse itself, as though he were looking in a mirror. Suddenly the Milky Way roared toward him again, but this time the Starfleet ships he saw laid waste to everything in their path. He watched a Constitution class starship very similar to James Kirk's - the Defiant - maim and kill the populations of whole planets in the name of an Empress Sato. Before his eyes centuries passed in mere seconds, as an entire Empire rose from the ashes of years of war on Earth, peaked in its 23rd century, and then fell into ruin at the hands of an angry, bitter Klingon, Cardassian, and Bajoran alliance. Earth humans in its 24th century were followed and persecuted wherever they fled, and most of them ended up with no choice but to toil endlessly as slaves in order to keep alive the slim hope of surviving long enough to see one more day.
ONE possible home that is NOT yours, suggested the voice inside Picard's head firmly. ONE possible home among an INFINITE number of homes.
As if to prove this point, the image of the mirror universe receded as it had before, and as before the struggling, oppressed humans in the vision that he had been watching shrank instantly into a tiny pinprick of bright light. But this time there were no stars, instead he was looking at a vast, geometrically organized pattern of billions of other points of light that appeared neatly positioned around the central point leading to the evil Starfleet Empire. Picard sensed instinctively that he was looking at an intersection of doorways allowing access to countless other universes. Some of those alternate realities would no doubt be very similar to his own familiar universe... to his home. Others would be vastly different - practice peace or pursue violence; a choice that the populations in each universe were all inevitably forced to make.
If you had to CHOOSE a door, which would be your one true home and which would be so similar to your own that you would be unable to tell the difference? NOW take a look at THEIR home, insisted the unknown whispering voice. A home that will one day also be YOURS..
The visual imagery in Picard's mind shifted to an alien galaxy, one with more stars but fewer spiral arms than his own. A vast war was being fought there, with conflicts so bitter and intense that entire ships routinely crashed into enemy planets or each other, exploding in huge bursts of expended energy. Thousands upon thousands of lives were extinguished, often in the blink of an eye. Other vessels continued the clash, battling each other over countless centuries - an endless war that grew darker and grimmer with each passing year. Their weapons often obliterated all living things on the enemy planets that they passed. Their war claimed whole star systems, sometimes even draining energy away from the suns of their enemies. In time, the ships grew so large and so powerful that the killing threatened all populations living in their galaxy with certain extinction. More than a few recognized the threat, and for the first time in generations those who realized the dire future facing them finally began an aggressive coordinated effort to end the fighting.
A coalition of survivors from all factions quickly formed, and they acted immediately to put a cease fire in place. Those who did not abide by the declaration and throw away their weapons were promptly destroyed; they became the final victims claimed by a war that - in the end - they tragically could not stop fighting. A new society formed, one bonded firmly to the principles of peace and a deep respect for all life wherever it was to be found. In working to rebuild the devastated worlds and populations of their galaxy, these 'Preservers' found a new, powerful motivation for change. They dedicated themselves to reclaiming what was lost; to rebuilding what most thought could not possibly be rebuilt. More centuries passed, and life once again began to flourish, thriving everywhere on worlds that the Preservers' efforts had successfully renewed.
They expanded their efforts to other galaxies, modeling their rebuilding efforts after planets like Earth and other similar worlds just like it - the 'crown jewels' of the cosmos in their eyes. They soon discovered that the populations in other galaxies had not warred quite as violently as the early generations of Preservers had, and thus it was easy to recruit allies and continue spreading plant, animal, and sentient life wherever they traveled to. Occasionally counterparts from other alternate, mirror universes traveled across the divide between dimensions and an inter-spatial alliance was formed with Preservers from other realms who felt as these Preservers did and shared their common goals. If a younger, yellow sun was dying, they stoked the fire burning within its core back to full intensity, ignoring the larger, cooler red giants where life was less probable and planets less habitable. Sometimes they left behind a small group of people on a world already well suited for life, on other occasions a complete renovation of the planet's ecosystem was first necessary.
Additional centuries passed and the new generations of Preservers continued their labor of love and their pursuit of seeding life everywhere they explored. They did not know who had originally created the vastness that was the cosmos and all of its amazing alternate realities, but they were now solely dedicated to preserving and improving it... never again would they war with each other and destroy. Violent species were encountered but the Preservers would not pass judgment on them... after all, they had once been hostile themselves but had matured out of it. Occasionally they left signs of their passing as an indication that someone else existed, that someone else cared. How the people in the civilizations who discovered those signs reacted to them was up to each group of life forms - the Preservers showed no favorites and practiced a policy of strict non-interference. If they could help young cultures begin to grow, then they promptly did so... otherwise they moved on to other worlds. There was so much to do, after all, and the universe an extremely BIG place...
And then the endless, non-stop project undertaken by the Preservers grew so large that it could not help but stumble, it could not help but CHANGE...
The transcribed report of Picard's memories stored in Data's memory terminated at that point, and - sitting next to Sisko in the runabout - Data resolutely made a silent promise not to permit anyone else from the 24th century to know about the Preservers. Although he had thus far corrected at least several major changes to the timeline during this mission to the past, it would be all too easy for him to unintentionally cause more damage. His mission had to remain one of secrecy and deception, even if doing so hid much of what he was doing from his colleagues. There was too much about the future that might change if he said or showed them something critical... if they discovered too much.
He already had a problem in the form of Benjamin Sisko, who had allowed Data to shadow the Ha'Husia using the runabout only on the condition that both he and Odo were permitted to ride along. Data was going to have to find a way to deal with Sisko's presence, and there was simply no way to do so without severely angering the Commander. Unfortunately, there was no other alternative. He would have to make his decisions as events continued to take place her in the past and live with the inevitable consequences. He could not totally undo the damage that had been done here, only repair it as accurately and efficiently as possible.
Sisko nodded with satisfaction as the sensor console in the runabout's cockpit suddenly lit up and began beeping for attention. "We've finally got something," he noted with a grim smile. "And it's exactly what we've been waiting for. There is a small gravitational anomaly forming aboard the Ha'Husia. The computer pinpoints a location inside the Captain's quarters."
Odo was standing directly behind the Commander and grunted with satisfaction. "It makes sense," he commented. "Someone wants the merchandise on the ship so badly they're willing to kill for it. Whoever is behind all this has undoubtedly come back to check up on their precious cargo."
Data was in the seat directly to Sisko's left and he silently activated the neural transceiver built into his positronic net. Using his wireless link with the runabout's main computer, he tapped into the Yellowjacket's sensor logs and swiftly analyzed the new information more efficiently than would ever be possible by simply reading it from a computer screen. Satisfied that their unknown enemy had indeed returned, the android initiated a site-to-site transport. Data's body shimmered with blue transporter energy and he promptly vanished from his seat.
"And just where is he going?" asked Odo curiously, leaning in close as he peered intently over Sisko's shoulder at the streams of incoming sensor data.
"I don't know. If Mr. Data was planning on going somewhere, I expected him to warn me in advance," said a concerned Sisko, swiveling in his seat to face the rear of the runabout. "Captain Janeway, do you have any idea...?" his voice trailed off unexpectedly as he noticed the empty passenger compartment behind him. Apparently the android had transported both Janeway and Paris in addition to himself. "Obviously, Data felt it necessary to take those two with him," the Commander growled, barely containing his sudden anger. "I just wish he had included us in his plan."
"Why would he do that Commander?" Odo wondered. "Why would he leave us behind?"
Sisko thought the entire matter over for a few minutes before responding. "Data is the second officer on the Enterprise... the flagship of the Federation," he pointed out. "Every member of Captain Picard's command staff is extremely proactive and capable of taking risks when confronting the dangers we encounter during space travel."
Even as he spoke, the lights on the consoles in front of him vanished as everything abruptly shut down. Acting on a hunch, the Commander tried to open the outer hatch on the side of the runabout and discovered that the small vessel was completely locked down. Frustrated, Sisko slammed a fist angrily down on the console and glared at the darkened screens in front of him.
"However you try to rationalize it, Data's behavior is highly irregular." Odo shook his head negatively.
"His entire mission has been suspect," responded Sisko with growing frustration. "Those secret Starfleet orders about planting Tom Paris in the Maquis... something about all of this just doesn't add up. I think his assignment to Deep Space Nine involves a whole lot more than he has told us, so he'd better have a damned good explanation as to why he trapped us here." For a second time the Commander tried to activate the Yellowjacket's darkened, inactive command console. Once again the main computer completely ignored his instructions.
At least for the moment, both he and Odo were trapped.
"Well I'm certainly not a member of Starfleet," pointed out the Changeling. "However, isn't this technically a direct violation of the Starfleet chain of command? If I'm not mistaken, you are Lt. Commander Data's superior. You allowed him to accompany the Ha'Husia on this mission, so it looks to me as though he should be taking orders from you."
The Commander leaned back in his seat, his eyes flickering over the dimly lit, completely powered down interior of the runabout. "For the moment, I'm willing to wait until I hear Data's reasons for taking this action," decided Sisko. "It would be unprofessional on my part to simply reprimand so experienced an officer without first hearing his point of view."
Odo folded his arms together in front of him. "And if you don't like what you hear, then what?"
Sisko smiled darkly, completely frustrated. "In that case I will reprimand him... I'll give that android of Picard's an ass chewing he won't soon forget."
Miles O'Brien continued to lay helplessly on Captain Keyoun's bed as the creature standing in front of the opposite wall continued to watch him with its flaming red eyes. There was no way to tell if the darkness within the hood actually contained a face - all he could see were the angry, blazing eyes within.
"WHY ARE YOU IN COMMAND OF THIS SHIP?"
The Chief's eyes widened at the unexpected sound of the harsh, raspy voice... specifically because the words somehow permeated his thoughts at the same time they reached his ears. Normally unflappable, he held silent for a moment as he watched the huge seven foot monstrosity towering over him. O'Brien was not someone who panicked easily, but his complete helplessness as he lay trapped in front of the strange alien presence was not helping matters. He had absolutely no way to defend himself if the entity chose to kill him as it had so many others. "I'm just doing the Bajorans a favor," he said finally. "My government has a treaty - an arrangement to cooperate - with their government. All I'm supposed to do is complete this ship's scheduled cargo run."
"YOU WILL DELIVER MY SUPPLIES ON TIME?"
"Yes. That is my assignment... to make certain everything is delivered to its proper destination." O'Brien waited tentatively, with the hair on his arms and on the back of his neck still prickled and standing on end. Whoever or whatever he was dealing with in this matter was definitely not an everyday, run of the mill smuggler. This was a very powerful unknown alien, and it was obviously capable of distorting space/time itself in addition to manipulating gravitons.
"EXCELLENT... IF YOU KEEP YOUR WORD, YOU AND YOUR CREW WILL LIVE."
Behind the creature Captain Data suddenly appeared. His unanticipated presence was most definitely not the result of a transporter beam... the android simply flashed into existence as though he had stepped through some kind of cosmic portal. "I am here Chief," Data told him reassuringly, his gaze refocusing instantly on the alien entity standing with them in the room.
Data's voice caused the creature to turn in response, its body swiveling gracefully toward the newcomer. As its dark robed shape turned toward the android, O'Brien's eyes widened in surprise. Attached to the alien - like some sort of tether - was a shimmering rope-like strand of emerald energy. It sprouted out of the center of the alien's back, slightly below the shoulder blades, and twisted and wound its way toward the area of severest distortion in the small room. Several meters to the left of the position where Data currently stood, the other end of the tether poked into and then simply vanished within the depths of the gravimetric disturbance.
The android's curiosity was obviously piqued, and Data seemed content to visually study the alien and gravitational chaos that its presence had brought with it. O'Brien continued to lay on the bed consumed by his own personal helplessness and fear of this unknown. "Pha-ser," the Chief managed to gasp, spitting out the word and then immediately sucking in a deep breath of air. The intensified gravity within the room continued to pin him firmly to the mattress, and even the smallest motion took great effort.
The android nodded and - seemingly impervious to the waves of highly focused gravitons swirling through the room - leaped over O'Brien's bed and landed softly next to the nightstand. He attempted to pick up the tricorder and noticed that it too was held firmly to the table's surface by the enhanced gravity. Fortunately, the sophisticated scanning device was already open, so Data simply activated it. As the colored lights on the tricorder sprang immediately to life the android swiftly moved his hand to the phaser pistol and used his superior strength to pick it up.
"Who are you?" Data inquired, the weapon in his hand emitting a series of electronic chirps as he raised its intensity setting to maximum. Beside him, the tricorder whirred electronically, recording everything that was currently taking place in the room.
"THAT IS NOT YOUR CONCERN... ALL I WANT IS MY EQUIPMENT."
"You have killed people in a simple quest for inanimate objects... our governments have laws prohibiting such behavior." Data watched its reaction carefully but detected no emotion or expression of any kind from within the dark, hooded form. In response to his accusation, the black-robed figure raised its left arm and pointed a lengthy, hooked finger directly at Data. Instantly the phaser in his hand became heavier and - ignoring the sudden graviton surge - the android used his considerable strength to slowly raise the weapon until it was once again pointed at the strange intruder. He fired a powerful beam of orange energy directly at the creature, hitting first the extended arm and following it back to the chest. The alien's extended arm and most of its shoulder disintegrated as the phaser beam struck, but the damaged areas of its body simply regenerated mere seconds later.
The creature lowered its instantly healed arm and began gliding backward, towards the center of the rippling distortion where its shimmering green tether emerged from. Astonishingly, the black robes that shrouded the alien and kept its features hidden appeared to simply collapse into the center of the gravimetric anomaly and vanish. Less than a minute later, most of the disturbance had faded and even O'Brien could tell that normal environmental conditions were quickly returning to the room. He sat up with a relieved sigh and cast an astonished gaze in the direction of his android friend.
"Androids weigh an awful lot," the Chief told him needlessly. "How did you manage to counteract all of the gravitons in this room? You walked through all of that like..."
"...like someone who is not really here," pointed out Data, setting the phaser down on the nightstand and picking up the tricorder. "What you are seeing is in reality a sophisticated projection... it is a method that allowed me to reach you in time to keep you alive." Although he could not specifically tell the Chief everything, Data was actually standing on the northern edge of the landing field where the Ha'Husia was docked. His internal neural interface had been significantly enhanced since his encounter with the Sentinel and the Preserver culture, so he had made use of it to directly link up with the subspace network and cast an isomorphic projection of himself inside the Captain's quarters.
"How can you be a projection?" asked an astonished O'Brien. "For crying out loud, you picked up a phaser and fired it at that thing... not to mention that there isn't any sort of emitter in this room!" He shivered at the memory of the cold and utter helplessness that he had felt during the confrontation. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad that you came..." The Chief looked a bit sheepish as he tried to get control of his fear. "I promised Keiko that the danger on this trip would be minimal, and things haven't exactly turned out that way. Just what in the name of hell was that thing?"
Data responded by turning off the tricorder. "Perhaps the data we collected from this direct scan of our unknown enemy will tell us more," he decided. He didn't dare say anything specific to the Chief about the Preserver network, and yet along with the isomorphic projection that he had utilized to intervene he had also focused some of the network's most sophisticated sensors on the Captain's quarters. The android was fully aware that he had dropped a major conflict of interest directly in the Chief's lap, but he also recognized that he too was undeniably caught between a rock and a hard place. A brief review of his ancestor's memories of actually having worked with O'Brien temporarily stimulated Data's emotion chip - in any century it simply wasn't easy for him to hide crucial information from someone he still considered to be a close friend.
"Kira to O'Brien."
The Chief had been standing motionless, studying the projected image of Data curiously. The Major's voice snapped him immediately back to the situation at hand, and he walked over toward his uniform. He had left it lying neatly folded over the backrest of a chair - something that Keiko would never let him get away with at home. Lifting up his shirt, O'Brien tapped the Starfleet Comm-badge attached to it lightly. "O'Brien here."
"Are you okay? We just detected all kinds of gravimetric turbulence on your deck. Our sensors have confirmed that this latest anomaly is very similar to the other occurrences previously recorded aboard Deep Space Nine."
O'Brien hesitated before responding, his gaze shifting momentarily to Data. The android shook his head negatively, unwilling to share anything new with them before first analyzing the latest information himself. "The situation is under control. Please stand by Major," O'Brien replied tersely. "I managed to get a tricorder reading of the alien life form that has been killing our people. I'm a little shaken up down here, but I'll be back on the bridge soon."
He expected her to accept his explanation and terminate the transmission, but she did not. "We've got another problem," Kira informed him. "Someone just attacked Dr. Bashir in Sickbay and stole our entire supply of Delacon-G. The Doctor is a little banged up, but the ship's physician says he's going to be okay. A quick survey has revealed the medication as the only item missing."
"The encounter here was a simple diversion," theorized Data softly. "Someone wants that medication very badly - at any cost. They're playing us against each other like pawns on a chessboard. We cannot simply allow the Delacon-G to disappear... we must find that thief."
O'Brien nodded in response. "Major, who specifically took that medication?" he asked inquisitively.
"At this point, we don't really know," she informed him. "Internal sensors show that someone from outside the ship used a site-to-site transport to beam in close to the Sickbay. The intruder attacked Dr. Bashir and then beamed right back out again. Our latest sweep of the area clearly shows that one biological life form materialized approximately 2,000 meters south of our landing pad. Without better sensors we can't determine which species."
Data's eyes closed as he activated his neural interface, tapping directly into the Ha'Husia's sensor logs. "I am downloading the destination coordinates now," he told O'Brien. "Stand by."
"I don't understand," Kira's voice sounded a bit concerned as it emerged from the communicator. "Is everything really all right down there Chief? Dax and a security team are already on the way..."
Her voice trailed off as Data used the Preserver network's transporter capabilities to lock onto O'Brien and beam him, the hand phaser and the tricorder directly to the destination coordinates of their unwanted Sickbay intruder outside the ship. Seconds later the android terminated the isomorphic projection and he also vanished from the room without the slightest trace of a residual energy signature.
Discovering himself unexpectedly standing outside in the chilly night time air, Chief O'Brien cussed loudly as he looked at all of the street light towers scattered throughout the spaceport. Slowly he began putting on the uniform that he still held in his hands. "Blasted time traveling androids from the future..." he growled with obvious annoyance. His voice trailed off as he suddenly noticed that Data, along with both Janeway and Paris, had transported to his location. One minute he was alone, and in the next instant all three of them were standing next to him. "Blasted time traveling androids from the future, sir," he repeated with a wry smile.
Captain Data tapped into the Preserver network yet again and focused its scanners directly on the medical bay aboard the Ha'Husia. Doctor Bashir's human bio-signature was easy to identify, so Data promptly targeted him and transported him directly to their position. As soon as Bashir materialized, it was obvious that he was still recovering from the attack. The Doctor was holding an ice pack against the back of his head, and they could see white bandages peeking out from underneath.
"Are you all right Doctor?" asked Janeway in her kindhearted way.
"Yes," Bashir replied, still a bit disoriented from the abrupt nature of the unexpected transport. "What, may I ask, is our next step in all of this?"
"We must recover the Delacon-G," declared Data sternly. "Maintaining our possession of that drug will allow us to continue to lure our enemy back to us. They obviously want that substance very badly, which is why we cannot allow them to keep it until we know why they want it so desperately."
O'Brien's thoughts drifted briefly back to the events that he had earlier witnessed. "What if we don't want to contact our unknown enemy," he declared snidely. "Not all of us have your... durability." Even as he released some of his anxiety by cracking a partial joke, the Chief turned slowly while carefully using the tricorder to scan the immediate vicinity. "I'm detecting one life form moving very swiftly toward the South," he observed, glancing between the dozens of larger cargo ships and shuttles parked in the spaceport surrounding them. "That's got to be our thief." He handed the tricorder to Data so that the android could read the information himself.
"Elevation is thirty-two point four meters," Data read aloud, raising the device slightly higher to get a more accurate sampling. "We are in pursuit of yet another interesting life form to be sure." He turned and regarded the others thoughtfully. "This one flies."