Star Trek: Reign Of Terror
Chapter VI: Journey To Babel
U.S.S. Yellowjacket, 14 Kilometers South of Azimuth City
Only minutes after promising to release the Zygopterran insectoid from its force field confinement, Captain Data kept his word. The creature moved cautiously forward toward the Yellowjacket's slowly opening exit hatch as soon as the energy field surrounding it dissipated with a final electronic snapping noise. The alien paused briefly in the doorway, glancing back one last time toward the small group of people still curiously watching it. It regarded them thoughtfully with its large, multi-faceted dark eyes.
"I am called Klikek", stated the Zygot proudly. "Your compassion and generosity towards me... and toward those who need this medication... on this occasion is most appreciated."
"We require information," Data responded in kind. "You are offering us the opportunity to learn more about you and where you come from. Therefore we also will benefit from this arrangement. Go about your business and do not worry... even if it appears to your ship's sensors as though you have lost us, I assure you we will be close by."
The creature's gaze focused suddenly on the Doctor. "I am truly sorry I attacked you...." Klikek admitted, his strange clicking language taking several seconds to translate. "Most I have met have not been cooperative... I did not see any other way to get what I needed."
Bashir placed a hand on the tender, bandaged wound near the back of his head and smiled. "I am glad we found a way to be friends," he replied with a small smile. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance."
Utilizing its four upper arms and working swiftly, Klikek suddenly pulled forth the medication case it still held protectively against the right side of its abdomen and opened it. Using one appendage to pluck a single vial from within, it reached across the runabout's passenger compartment and handed the small sample of the precious, perishable vaccine tentatively to Julian. The Doctor accepted the medication cautiously, but not without a look of puzzlement.
"When we get where we are going... you will need this..." Klikek told him firmly. "...and once we arrive at my planet... the Overseer may no longer permit me to assist you. We are very busy assembling his Temple-to-all-places."
"What do you mean?" asked Bashir curiously, ignoring the alien's last words. "Why will I need this?"
Klikek turned back toward the open exit. "You will soon discover why."
Uttering those final, cryptic words the creature was suddenly gone, launching itself powerfully out into the night and flying instantly away from them. Its fully extended wings began buzzing instantly as they worked steadily to hold the alien aloft. O'Brien saw one last flash of light from inside the runabout reflect off of the Zygot's wings before the view outside was once again limited solely to the dimly lit, rough terrain of the planet's nighttime surface. Several seconds passed in complete silence before Data finally activated the hatch's closing mechanism.
"Sensors indicate that Klikek's shuttle is indeed close by," the android stated informatively. "We should all prepare to leave orbit immediately." He waved a hand casually at the empty seats in the passenger cabin while walking back toward the Yellowjacket's cockpit. After seating himself in the pilot's chair he turned briefly to face Benjamin Sisko. "Deep Space Nine must no longer be used as a transfer point for gravity generating equipment," he cautioned the station commander. "Whoever or whatever this Overseer is, it manipulates and relies upon gravitons in order to breach subspace where and when it wishes to. Since requests for significant amounts of this equipment have steadily been increasing on cargo ship inventories over the past few months, I would theorize that Klikek's Overseer periodically needs to recapture the gravitons it expends."
"Don't worry, I'll hold up our end," Sisko promised, bracing both arms above his head firmly against the upper framework lining the cockpit entrance as he peered intently inside.
"If I am unable to reach you, trust Commander Ducane," the android suggested with a confident nod. "He will be able to assist you in keeping the timeline stabilized until I return." Satisfied that Sisko knew what to do, Data returned his attention to the controls in front of him and activated the runabout's transporter system. Taking care to scan for an empty room on board the Ha'Husia, he promptly beamed Sisko back to the Bajoran merchant vessel. Once that was taken care of, he diverted the Yellowjacket's sensors into a broader search pattern, sweeping the entire area for signs of other activity.
O'Brien pointed to the empty seat next to Data and then seated himself comfortably as the android nodded affirmatively in reply to his unspoken request. "Will these controls work normally for me as well?" the Chief asked curiously, pointing at the brightly lit helm and navigation consoles.
"Everything that you see aboard this vessel functions exactly like the controls aboard any standard Federation runabout from this era," Data informed him. "The engine core is significantly different and there are many hidden features built into this vessel, but only I can access them. All additional command functions that are available using concealed 29th century technology are accessible only to me unless permission is first granted to someone else via my neural link." He smiled with mock amusement at O'Brien's expression. "So feel free to familiarize yourself with my ship."
"Since you have pinpointed its location, I simply want a closer look at the Zygot's ship," admitted O'Brien, touching the sensor controls on the co-pilot's station. "I'm curious to see what type of design an insectoid life form would choose to fly in." On the central viewscreen in front of them, Klikek's small vessel was already rising fast into orbit even as they watched. The Chief's inquisitive nature regarding all things engineering prompted him to pull up a detailed analysis of its configuration anyway.
Standing directly behind the Chief, both Janeway and Bashir were peering over O'Brien's shoulder and watching closely. "That's a pretty small shuttle," pointed out the Doctor.
"Yes. Very small indeed," agreed O'Brien. "From above it looks like a moth. It's basically a small pod at the front, with thin dorsal wings reaching back to protect the central, engineering section. Other than that the Zygot craft is very similar to the various ships we fly, including a small warp nacelle hooked underneath each wing." He touched a few more controls, spinning the layout of the ship 90 degrees so he could study its dimensions from a side view. "The power output signature is extraordinary for a ship that small... I believe our insectoid friend has some serious technology of his own aboard that ship."
"I expected as much," Data admitted. "The site-to-site transport Klikek initiated from a location so distant from his vessel requires a very detailed working knowledge of transporter technology. A species unfamiliar with the intricacies of the process would be hesitant to try it without decades of experimentation and enhancement. Even as recently as a hundred years ago in our own history, Starfleet personnel serving aboard Constitution-Class starships still considered even intra-ship beaming to be a rare and risky process. Klikek boarded the Ha'Husia using the transporter from a shuttle parked over a dozen kilometers distant. He did so without first beaming back to it, so he obviously has a lot of confidence in his systems."
Throughout O'Brien's analysis and their subsequent discussion, the Yellowjacket had lifted off from the surface of Denali Prime and was roaring into orbit as rapidly as the alien vessel it pursued. Klikek's ship nosed gradually higher in the atmosphere, its vapor trail clearly visible as it crisscrossed their view through the cockpit windows in front of them. The exterior visual pickups remained firmly focused on the shuttle itself, displaying a close up image of the alien vessel directly in the center of their viewscreen. Both ships continued rising higher and higher above the clouds until even Denali Prime's atmosphere began to thin noticeably.
"Perhaps when we reach our destination, Klikek will let me take a look at the inside," mused the Chief thoughtfully. "I would certainly take him up on the opportunity if he offered."
"Based on what we've seen so far, I wouldn't count on that," predicted Janeway. "I don't think we're finished running into surprises on this trip, Chief."
O'Brien glanced back at her and harrumphed. "I would have to agree Captain," he admitted reluctantly.
Minutes later they watched as the small Zygopterran spacecraft broke orbit from Denali Prime and plowed steadily toward the distant edge of the solar system. The runabout maintained its pursuit course as both ships moved steadily outward and away from the central star. Finally, the alien vessel's impulse engines shut down and Klikek's shuttle slowed almost to a complete stop. A radiant beam of scarlet energy flared outward from an emitter port on the nose of the shuttle and opened a large, crimson energy rift. As the curious Starfleet crew watched curiously from inside the Yellowjacket, a bright reddish-orange tunnel crackling with radiant energy quickly formed at the center of the distortion.
"Truly remarkable," noted Data with sincere admiration, recognizing the familiar energy signature of a quantum slipstream. "That small vessel has the ability to tunnel all the way through subspace, allowing it instant access to the Gamma Quadrant. "I would not be at all surprised to discover that Klikek's vessel is capable of traversing time as well as space." Even as they watched, the small ship that they continued to pursue suddenly plunged directly into the center of the fluctuating anomaly and vanished.
Altering course and steering the Yellowjacket directly toward the center of the alien wormhole, Data quickly followed Klikek inside. The cockpit windows blazed brightly as swirling waves of orange and red energy shook their vessel. Caught up in the quantum slipstream surrounding it, the Starfleet runabout rocketed swiftly across the galaxy much faster than warp drive alone could ever have propelled it.
"You did mention that the Yellowjacket has a cloaking device," pointed out O'Brien, clearing his throat in a manner that indicated to Data that the Chief still did not feel entirely safe... even aboard the runabout. "And you also indicated that you would make use of it."
"Affirmative. Our cloaking system has been active since we left orbit," the android reassured him. "Sit back and enjoy the ride Chief... you are quite safe while aboard this vessel."
Gamma Quadrant, Star System DNX-170471629
The Yellowjacket emerged twenty minutes later from the spatial rift and soared into the Gamma Quadrant near a small, four planet solar system. Data took a moment to verify their location and nodded affirmatively in O'Brien's direction. "We are indeed where we are supposed to be," he declared. "The second planet of this star system once boasted a very large population of Zygopterrans. No one knows for certain exactly what happened; only that Klikek's world is now completely devoid of sentient life."
Doctor Bashir was browsing through information displayed on Chief O'Brien's console, and he shook his head with dismay. "DNX-170471629," he said out loud. "The star in this solar system doesn't even have a name, Chief... just a really large astronomical catalogue number."
The Chief chuckled with amusement in response to the Doctor's statement. "Records indicate two Federation science probes passed nearby this system shortly after discovery of the Bajoran wormhole," he added. "Other than that, no one has ever given this place more than a passing glance." He looked toward Data, watching the android's stern-faced profile as the Yellowjacket steadily moved inside the outer perimeter of the solar system. "Why would anyone care about this place, much less travel here?"
"Apparently, there have been quite a few ships moving through this star system," noted Data sharply as the sensor console suddenly lit up. Bright streaks of red began to appear on its screen, all of them leading directly outward from the second planet. Within seconds the sensor net had logged dozens of additional hits, displaying each of them so that the Starfleet officers could study the telemetry further.
"What are those... are they fuel trails?" asked Janeway curiously. She was standing directly to the left of the Doctor, also observing the busy sensor activity displayed on O'Brien's panel.
"Yes, believe it or not the sensors are detecting traces of impulse exhaust," noted O'Brien with a raised eyebrow. He glanced back at his two colleagues. "Someone has been flying in and out of this system pretty frequently for the past several weeks. I'd say at least two hundred separate shuttle trips have been made." He held up his hands with frustration after evaluating a fresh sensor analysis of the second planet. "But there is absolutely nothing significant to be found on the surface... even the life readings down there are plants, trees and smaller animal life. I'm not detecting sentient life forms or energy signatures of any type - could there be a cloaked base of some sort down there?"
Data hesitated only a few seconds before responding. "Negative," he replied firmly. "I have access to enhanced sensors, and they have shown no evidence of a cloaking field." Beside his right hand the tactical console suddenly began bleeping loudly and flashing bright red. "However, the considerable traffic in and out of this system has attracted some unwanted attention."
O'Brien felt his blood freeze as he recognized the energy signatures of the newcomers. "It's the bloody Jem Hadar," he said softly.
"Affirmative." Data's internal link provided him with instantaneous sensor updates. "Two of their attack cruisers were hiding behind the planet's moon, waiting for someone to show up. Now that they have gotten their wish, both vessels have locked onto a direct interception course with Klikek's shuttle."
Bashir felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "Well... stop them!" he practically shouted, a little more loudly than he intended to. His cheeks reddening with embarrassment, the Doctor exhaled with frustration. "If we want to learn anything useful here, I strongly suggest that we intervene."
Data nodded without answering Bashir. The android was busily watching a pair of beetle-shaped Jem'Hadar warships accelerate to high impulse velocity as they continued to close in on Klikek's small shuttle. "I am dropping our cloak," he declared suddenly, glancing briefly at Chief O'Brien and daring him to protest. "We will be able to intimidate them much more easily if they can see us." O'Brien's expression was obviously concerned, but he didn't say anything.
"We're going to intimidate them?" Bashir inquired, clearly feeling a rise in his anxiety level. Fortunately, he had calmed down noticeably.
Both enemy vessels tried to close within weapons range of the Zygotian vessel, but each of them suddenly lost all forward velocity as Data unexpectedly locked a tractor beam firmly onto each warship. Throwing the Yellowjacket's engines into full reverse, he brought both of the larger starships to a very abrupt stop while holding onto both of them firmly. Each enemy ship instantly turned sharply in a different direction and attempted unsuccessfully to re-engage their engines.
"Whoa," gasped O'Brien, noting the huge, abrupt increase of power output from the runabout's warp engine. Both Starfleet tractor beams - usually, a mild bluish-green in coloration - blazed bright red as they clung tightly to the enemy starships. "Starfleet intelligence reports I've read all indicate that the hulls of Jem'Hadar attack cruisers are highly resistant to most tractor beams... that they will almost always deflect them."
"My tractor beam technology is not like most," replied Data with a smirk, refusing to elaborate further. Everyone watched curiously and with growing anticipation as the Jem'Hadar crews aboard the two vessels suddenly realized that a small, Federation runabout had appeared behind them. Noticing that the tiny ship had somehow snared both of them with its tractor emitters, their response was immediate. Multiple white hot polaron beams lashed out at the Yellowjacket immediately, stabbing at its fully powered shields. O'Brien and Bashir braced themselves for the usual expected pounding associated with an all out attack, but were pleasantly surprised to discover that the enemy weapons proved to be completely useless against 29th century shielding.
"I take it your shields are also unique," grumbled O'Brien irritably, exhaling slowly but with obvious relief as the runabout rumbled slightly but remained otherwise unaffected by the assault.
Once again Data chose not to lie to his allies, opting instead to simply remain silent. He had discovered, during his many interactions with the Preserver subspace network, that the protocols set in place by the operating system governing it required fairness in the use of its resources. Since initially connecting to it back on Denali Prime in order to assist Chief O'Brien during the Overseer's attack aboard the Ha'Husia, the android Captain had been steadily downloading significant quantities of information from the subspace realm.
Deciding to make efficient use of the Jem'Hadar's predictable attack, Data chose to donate back to the Preserver network what it needed most in order to remain functional... energy. Tapping into the alien network's massive collectors, he opened a small subspace pocket and easily linked an invisible conduit of pure energy directly to the Yellowjacket's shield grid just before the enemy weapons fire slammed into them. The deflectors barely lit up as - constructed specifically to store unbelievable amounts of reserve power - the Preserver network's resources easily absorbed the energy from the Jem'Hadar assault and channeled it into massive batteries concealed deep within the folds of subspace.
Noticing that their initial assault was so completely and easily thwarted, the Jem'Hadar promptly switched tactics and proceeded to launch a steady, ongoing barrage of torpedoes. The entire cockpit lit up with brilliant flashes of red and orange fire as matter/anti-matter explosions continually pounded away at the Yellowjacket's shields. Even while enduring an all-out assault from both warships, the vast majority of the expended energy was instantaneously absorbed by the subspace network or deflected away by the runabout's powerful defenses.
Chief O'Brien watched with complete and utter astonishment as their shield generators held firmly at 98 percent of maximum capacity on the console indicator in front of him. Finally, realizing that the tiny runabout was in fact still very safely protected, he cast a look of shocked disbelief in the direction of the android Captain sitting next to him. "Are you going to hit them back?" he asked tentatively, unsuccessfully attempting to gauge Data's reaction by his blank expression. "I hope you realize that the only thing preventing those monsters from killing us is your superior technology."
"Every death in this timeframe has a significant impact on our long term future," Data reminded him. "Even this small conflict will have at least some influence on what happens years from now, specifically because those two ships are currently here... fighting us at this location instead of patrolling wherever they are supposed to be."
Data closed his eyes and concentrated for several seconds, utilizing his neural link to wirelessly tap into the main computers on both enemy vessels. Such an action was supposed to be impossible, but the android Captain from the future simply had too many resources at his disposal. Almost immediately, the weapons fire came to a complete stop and shortly thereafter both ships lost most of their power and began slow, awkward spins. Conducting a brief analysis of the energy expenditure generated by the Jem'Hadar weapons fire, the android discovered that he had gained significant additional privileges within the Preserver's subspace realm thanks to his unexpected 'donation' to their cause. He had confirmed his suspicions and discovered irrevocably that the best way to gain credibility and within the alien network was a simple one... give more than you receive.
"How the devil did you do that?" asked Janeway, watching the out of control enemy ships rotating clumsily on the viewscreen. The warship closest to them began listing to port, and there was absolutely no sign that either vessel retained significant power of any kind.
"I have infiltrated their computer systems, shut down all major command functions on both vessels and locked in my own private access code," the android informed them. "With the single exception of life support, their major systems are now powerless. Once we have concluded our business in this star system, I will release control back to the Jem'Hadar and allow them to leave."
"You're a lot more compassionate than I would be in your place," O'Brien decided firmly. "Not too long ago, I watched those bloody bastards destroy the starship Odyssey without the slightest hesitation."
"I believe that - before all is said and done in your lifetime - you will have had your fill of war Chief," predicted Data. He dropped both tractor beams and accelerated the Yellowjacket past the powerless Jem'Hadar warships, maneuvering directly toward the second planet of the local star system. Both enemy cruisers continued to spin slowly, their crews contained within and temporarily helpless. The android Captain paid them no further heed, focusing his attention instead on the amber-hued planet rotating steadily in front of them. Several medium-sized oceans were scattered across its surface, but much of its strangely colored ground composition remained unfamiliar.
"The vibrant intensity generated by the star in this system has dropped tremendously over the years," pointed out O'Brien helpfully. "This is barely an 'M' Class planet any longer."
"Klikek," said Bashir suddenly, meeting the Chief's gaze firmly as O'Brien glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow of puzzlement. "If our new friend is indeed the sole surviving member of his race," continued the Doctor, "Then I think that it is only fair to name the planet after him. To honor both our newfound friend and his people, we should name this planet Klikek."
"Why not Zygopterra?" O'Brien countered, turning slightly to face the Doctor. "Or Zigotia?" He shook his head. "Klikek is hard to pronounce - too much like that odd language he speaks. I'm sorry Julian, but it just doesn't sound like a place anyone would really want to visit."
Janeway pointed at the sensor indicators blinking for attention on the Chief's sensor console. "Speaking of our friend Klikek," she pointed out abruptly. "Where did he go? His ship no longer shows up."
O'Brien spun his seat back to face forward and verified her claim. "You're right," he said with disbelief. "His shuttle is gone... it appears to have disappeared into thin air."
"I have been tracking the shuttle during our encounter with the Jem'Hadar," Data informed them. "It descended into the atmosphere and moved toward a mountainous region near the center of the largest northern continent." He didn't share with them the fact that he had tagged Klikek's vessel with an electronic tracking signature via the Preserver network, or that - even with the enhanced search capability in place - the small ship had still managed to somehow vanish completely from all available sensors. "We are beginning our own descent into the planet's atmosphere, and once we are nearer to the surface I will be able to pinpoint his last known location more accurately."
Eventually the Yellowjacket's flight path across the rugged, mountainous terrain brought them to a small, heavily forested valley. The wooded lowlands were bordered on the west and east by long lines of huge mountains stretching high above the misted cloud cover above. Each side of the valley was bordered - for kilometers stretching to the north and south - with tall peaks that would be almost completely impassible for anyone on the surface who attempted to cross them. A thin, winding river bent and twisted its way through the center of the valley. Despite the impressive view, it wasn't the actual landscape that captured everyone's attention.
"Now how about that?" gasped Bashir, pointing toward the view through the wide, angled cockpit windows of the runabout. It was clearly obvious to everyone watching that something unbelievable had been done to the mountains that they were currently flying over. Something had been done that seemed impossible to conceive of, even with modern technological societies so widespread in the galaxy surrounding them.
"If I wasn't looking at this with my own eyes, I'd never believe it," admitted O'Brien.
The Yellowjacket slowed, continuing to shed velocity and descend as it moved in a leisurely, southern course while hovering several thousand meters above the forested, central valley. To the west and to the east of them, it appeared as though a giant hand holding an enormous meat cleaver had simply chopped away one third of the mountain sides facing each side of the valley and then scooped away the rubble. The mountains along each border simply ended in a smooth, vertical cliff face that looked completely unnatural and clearly man made. The flat, perpendicular cliff-like drop offs that had been created stretched for dozens of kilometers to the north and south of their current position. Occasionally there was a minor bend in each line of rugged peaks to the east or to the west, but primarily both ranges followed a reasonably straight line.
"It's an impressive achievement, to say the least," commented Janeway with a small curl of her lip. "Someone has been doing some serious reorganizing down there, and I doubt that it was Mother Nature. But I find myself asking the question... why would someone bother doing all of that?"
Data accessed the sensor controls and put up a display of the flat, cliff face to the west of them. He spun the runabout 90 degrees to face the massive side of a huge mountain as the main computer used the Yellowjacket's scanning systems to carefully scrutinize the surface area in front of it. Bright green crosshairs centered on an area directly in front of them and then moved steadily upward along the flat, vertically rising surface of the truncated mountainside. When it reached a point approximately 1,300 meters from the peak the crosshairs paused and began blinking rapidly. Nodding with satisfaction, the android swiveled in his seat to face the others.
"The trail from Klikek's engines leads directly into the side of that mountain; right up to the point where the target crosshairs have indicated. As we have observed, his vessel simply vanished from our sensors after reaching that point."
"Vanished? Or did he crash?" Janeway wanted to be certain.
"There is no evidence of any impact, explosion, or of residual debris," noted O'Brien thoughtfully. "However, there is an unknown energy signature of some kind at the exact spot where he vanished." Intrigued, he took over the sensors while Data watched contentedly and adjusted them to focus more clearly on the area in question. A hexagonal shaped area surrounding the green crosshairs suddenly flashed brightly in red. "It looks like some kind of energy gateway, approximately nine meters in diameter. It doesn't appear to be a holographic projection, so where exactly that entrance leads to... well, your guess at this point would be as good as mine."
"An interesting challenge has been presented to us by our new alien friend," Data decided.
"Indeed. Do we follow Klikek's shuttle through or do we end our pursuit here?" Janeway posed the question thoughtfully, watching each of them carefully for a reaction.
O'Brien snorted with amusement. "With all respect that is due Captain, we didn't come this far just to give up and go home."
"Even so, we have no idea where that leads to," Bashir countered. "There could be a hostile enemy waiting for us on the other side of... well, on the other side."
Data pointed - not to the viewscreen - but at the cockpit windows and the spectacular panorama in front of them. "Do you notice how far up the cliff face the portal is?" he observed. "It is extremely high off the ground, where only a ship or a life form capable of flight can reach it."
"I say we go through, and see where that thing takes us," O'Brien persisted, waving a hand toward the windows. They were hovering in the empty space directly in front of the massive, flat side of the mountain - precisely where the rest of it would have been if something had not cut it cleanly away. The flat surface area in front of them was almost totally perpendicular to the distant planet's surface below. Whatever had become of the rest of the mountain continued to remain an unanswered riddle. The Chief studied the unusual sight for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. "If we want answers, then I expect that the other side of that electronic doorway is where we will find them."
"I concur," the android agreed. He reached for the Comm-system controls and opening a channel to his colleagues in the 29th century. "Data to Commander Ducane. Commander, are you receiving?"
The communications board crackled with mild distortion that cleared almost immediately. "He's currently off-shift Captain." Lt. Jessica Ingram's voice sounded calm and unconcerned. "Is there something we can help you with?"
"Indeed there is." Data's fingers danced quickly across the console controls, and most of the indicators flashed brightly as he swiftly entered commands into the system faster than any normal humanoid could ever manage. "I am uploading our latest visual logs and telemetry into the Relativity's main computer. A short while ago, we were tracking a small ship that passed through an electronic portal of some sort. We have located the phenomenon in question and plotted its specific location. At the precise instant the vessel we followed disappeared from our sensors, the Yellowjacket's scanners detected traces of Berthold and Delta radiation."
"Interesting," Jess Ingram replied curiously. "That sounds consistent with the energy signature created by a dimensional shift of some sort. No wonder there have been no detectable temporal events."
"That is exactly what I was thinking." Data finished the data upload and his hands came to a sudden stop. "We plan to follow the vessel through the rift and discover what is on the other side. It is probable that we will lose the ability to communicate with you once we do so."
"How long do you want us to wait before sending a rescue party?" Ingram asked with a trace of amusement in her voice. "You have no idea what you'll find in an alien realm, and if you don't return within a reasonable time period, I expect that Commander Ducane will be hard to restrain once he decides to come after you."
"I would suggest that you wait at least three hours," Data suggested politely. "After that, our good friend Commander Ducane is welcome to come rushing to our rescue if he wishes to."
"Acknowledged." Ingram paused for a few more seconds while reviewing some of the new telemetry that Data had sent to her. "While you're gone, we'll run a scan on the alien ship's crossover signature... it will be interesting to see how many trips have been made back and forth over the past few weeks."
"I predict your scans will reveal at minimum two hundred," concluded Data, glancing at O'Brien as he remembered the impulse fuel trails that they had scanned upon first entering the star system.
"We'll let you know as soon as you get back," promised Data's Second Officer. "Ingram out."
Data regarded O'Brien, Janeway and Bashir thoughtfully. "Someone is very interested in our galaxy and in this timeline." He fired up the runabout's maneuvering thrusters and nodded confidently. "Brace yourselves everyone, we're about to fly into the side of this mountain."
"Then I would suggest you fly slowly," suggested Janeway.
The view through the cockpit changed only subtly. The runabout passed through the hexagonally shaped energy barrier traveling in a westerly direction, yet the first thing that Data noticed was that they emerged facing east. Other than that, the basics of the landscape surrounding them didn't appear to have changed all that much. The Yellowjacket was still hovering below the low hanging cloud cover of an azure-tinged sky. Even the flat-surfaced, truncated artificial cliff faces of the mountains that bordered the east and west sides of the central valley were still there. It didn't take long, however, for the Starfleet crew to discover that much around them was indeed significantly different.
Curious as to the reason for the direction change, Data altered the viewscreen's image to an aft visual of the area behind them. Again they were looking at the flat, perpendicular surface of the artificially created cliff side, but this time there was a hexagonally-shaped metallic rim surrounding the nine meter portal that they had maneuvered through. The energy barrier itself continued to remain invisible to the human eye, but it was immediately obvious to everyone aboard the runabout that the metal frame served as a generator of some sort for the portal. And that was only the beginning...
Surrounding the gateway they had moved through and stretching up, down, and for kilometers in all directions, an entire series of interlocked, identical hexagonal shaped metallic frames had been attached to the flat, artificially constructed perpendicular surface of the mountains. The Yellowjacket had passed through one gateway, but there were astonishingly many more of them... thousands in fact.
"I'm detecting sentient life signs down there... lots of them," said O'Brien excitably from his co-pilot's seat as the console in front of him instantly blurted out an electronic warning. "It appears that there is a thriving Zygopterran society down there." Even as he spoke the words, several of the winged aliens buzzed past the cockpit windows and gave them a fleeting, inquisitive glance before turning and flying away. Behind them several work shuttles followed close behind - each of them very similar to Klikek's vessel and towing more of the hexagonal shaped gateways via tractor beam.
"This is an alternate universe of some sort," Janeway gasped, leaning forward so that she had a clearer view through the windows. "Probably a mirror universe... something parallel to our own reality."
The Yellowjacket continued to drift slowly east, moving steadily across the valley below them. "Notice the opposite cliff face," indicated Data, pointing his right index finger toward the eastern mountainous border region. "There are thousands more of the hexagonal gateways built into its surface as well." Even as he spoke the words, he remembered the words of Jean-Luc Picard as he described the images shown to him in the vision provided to him by the Preserver subspace network. Those words floated suddenly back to the surface of Data's mind, touching his positronic thoughts...
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?
Data continued to evaluate the endless possibilities as he pondered Picard's words.
"Someone is linking universes together," concluded Janeway, noticing Data's sudden silence. "Someone is linking a lot of universes together for purposes unknown."
"This has to be the reason why your colleagues on the Relativity aren't detecting any temporal incursions," O'Brien speculated excitedly. "The interference is obviously coming from somewhere outside of our own universe... from here."
"We've discovered one potential source of interference," pointed out Janeway. "Don't forget those subspace ruptures used by the creature that attacked you, Chief. Those are probably coming from outside the normal flow of time as well."
"So anything happening here... the construction of all this, everything... it could all have been taking place for years - centuries perhaps - and we would never even know?" Julian Bashir looked more frightened than O'Brien had ever seen him as the implications of what they were witnessing weighed on the Doctor's consciousness.
"Yes," acknowledged Data. "That is correct Doctor. Until these aliens began entering and interfering with events in our universe, we had no way of knowing that they existed."
He tipped the runabout forward so that they could all see the valley below them. It was blatantly obvious that virtually all of the wooded forestland present on their side of the portal had been completely removed on this side. Only the river remained, winding and bending through a rocky, relatively flat surface covered in all directions with heavy equipment and swarming hordes of working Zygots.
"They've got everything they need down there," pointed out O'Brien as he continued scanning the work site below. "I'm picking up energy signatures from massive power generators, replicator equipment, and there are enough workers available to cover this entire planet with those hexagonal shaped portals. I wonder how many more mountain ranges on this planet they have done this to."
As if that prospect wasn't alarming enough, Picard's words continued to tickle and poke at the edges of Data's positronic thoughts. "I wonder how many planets these aliens have in their domain... planets all available to build gateways on," he commented idly. "This universe is obviously a major intersection allowing access to countless other realities."
"Yeah, well I for one would like to know what they want with ours," decided O'Brien.
"I was recently in a mirror universe very similar to this one," pointed out Bashir. "Major Kira and I encountered some runabout trouble while passing through the Bajoran wormhole. We ended up in an alternate, extremely hostile reality and barely escaped with our lives. Our experience was an accident... who in the hell would intentionally want to take the risk of traveling between dimensions? And for what purpose? What would they be hoping to accomplish?"
"That is our new mission," decided Data. "To evaluate and determine their intent. Are these aliens hostile or are they merely explorers like us?"
The android paused for a moment to check the runabout's Comm-system and - as predicted - all communication with the Relativity in the 29th century had been terminated. Wherever they were, it was in an alternate reality that was completely separated from their own. Even so, Data was pleasantly surprised to discover that his neural link continued to keep him firmly connected to the subspace network. The Sentinel had mentioned on several occasions that the Preservers' efforts to spread life and maintain solar systems spanned entire universes, but until now he had never needed to test the veracity of that claim. Checking his interface with the subspace realm curiously, Data silently evaluated the options available to him and noted with satisfaction that if he needed to use the network's communications resources to contact Commander Ducane, that option was open and available to him.
"How the devil are we going to get back?" asked O'Brien suddenly, gripping Data's forearm firmly as he realized just how far the runabout had moved away from their arrival point. "How do we know which gateway we came through?"
Data turned toward the Chief and gave him a reassuring smile. "Relax Chief O'Brien," he said reassuringly. Adjusting the viewscreen pickup, he replayed the sensor recording of their initial arrival. The image of the hexagonal, metal framed gateway reappeared along with a series of green and blue numbers in the lower right corner. "Each portal has a unique, very specific energy signature," the android informed them. He touched a key on the control console and the magnification switched instantly to a close up view of the metallic rim... so close it looked as though they could reach through the screen and touch it. In the lowest segment of the hexagonal frame, there appeared to be some sort of scratches engraved into the surface of the odd, silver-colored metal. Upon closer examination, it was obvious that the odd scrawl was some sort of marking... an alien language.
"Is that some sort of identification?" wondered the Chief.
"Yes. It is a Zygopterran number," Data told him.
O'Brien shifted an interested gaze toward the android. "And just how do you know that?" he wondered.
Data shrugged his shoulders. "During our trip through the quantum slipstream, I took a few seconds to learn the entire Zygopterran language," he replied coolly. Opening his mouth slightly to prove his point, he uttered an odd series of clicking and chirping noises. "That sound you hear is the number on the doorway leading back to our own world," he explained to them.
Bashir had moved further into the cockpit, pressing up against the back of O'Brien's seat so that he could see down toward the surface. "Look at them all," he said. "There must be hundreds of thousands of workers down there... all building more of these portals."
The Chief nodded and continued studying the life signs that he had detected. "It's not just Zygopterrans," he told them. "There is a huge variety of alien species down there, all working..." his voice trailed off unexpectedly as he looked closer at the list of races displayed on his screen.
There was a long pause as O'Brien worked to confirm his latest scan. "What is it Chief?" asked Data inquisitively.
"I'm not certain I believe it myself, but scanners indicate there are at least six dozen humans down there," he declared with obvious surprise.
The android's fingers once again tapped a series of commands into his own console, bringing up a display identical to O'Brien's. "Where?" he asked curiously. Continuing to work for another few minutes, the two of them pinpointed the location of the specific humanoid life signs. "I am setting a new course to rendezvous with them," said Data. "They are not very far from here."
The Doctor was also reading information off of O'Brien's sensor screens, and - a troubled expression suddenly clouding his features - he opened his tricorder and began a medical scan of the immediate area outside of the runabout. "No wonder they require a constant supply of Delacon-G for this project," said Bashir, inhaling sharply. "I'm detecting massive amounts of Berthold and Delta radiation outside, not to mention minor traces of other things that are also severe bio-hazards. Whatever these people are doing here, it is most definitely not environmentally friendly and not good for the long term health of biological tissue."
Minutes later the Yellowjacket touched down in a central area of the valley less than a kilometer from the river that wound more or less from the north to the south. As the exit hatch snapped smoothly open a blast of sunlight lit up the interior of the runabout. Bashir held up a cautious hand in warning as they prepared to disembark, taking the vial of medication that Klikek had given him and attaching it to a hypospray. He inoculated Chief O'Brien first and then himself. "This isn't a permanent remedy to the radiation out there, but it will keep us safe enough for a short visit. However, limited exposure is most assuredly in our best interests," he informed them.
In every direction surrounding them, huge dark black factories and a variety of other mechanical equipment stretched upward, reaching high into the sky. Dozens of workers - many of them Zygots in flight - surrounded the largest machines as they steadily worked to create and deploy more of the portals. O'Brien watched all of the bustling activity with fascination, including the domed shapes of massive power plants and the lengthy assembly lines where hexagonally shaped metallic frames were speedily put together and prepared for use. Work shuttles very similar to the one flown by Klikek continued to pass over them, moving steadily back and forth as the assembly of the portals on the two opposing mountainous rock faces continued uninterrupted.
"We are very busy assembling his 'Temple-to-all-places'," O'Brien said softly, causing the other three to look at him curiously. "That is what Klikek told us right before his departure," the Chief reminded them. "That's what he said his people were doing for the Overseer."
To the north of them was a large encampment containing rows and rows of habitable wooden huts that had obviously been erected to house a massive work force. A vast majority of the workers in the camp were Zygopterran insectoids, but there were also plenty of alien humanoids... especially species native to the Gamma Quadrant. The four members of Starfleet became even more curious as they wandered closer to the camp, and O'Brien's tricorder began beeping repeatedly as soon as they moved toward one of the small homes. Even without further analysis, it was immediately obvious that humans lived there. The first two people that they found were so shabbily dressed and their faces so fatigued from hard labor that it was hard to feel any sort of cheer at the discovery.
The pair of humans looked as though they had been through hell and back again.
"Look," one of them said, pointing excitedly toward Data, Janeway and the two humans following them. "They're human, just like us!" The man was tall, thin and dark-haired - by visual observation alone it was perfectly clear that he was someone who had obviously been mistreated and severely underfed. His face brightened noticeably, however, as he recognized other members of his race suddenly arriving so unexpectedly at their home.
"Don't just stand there Mark," growled the young blonde woman standing next to him irritably. She slapped him firmly on the shoulder. "Go and get the Captain!"
Data stepped forward and held out a hand as Mark, the first man who had spoken, ran off toward one of the other, nearby huts. "My name is Data and I serve as a Captain in Starfleet," he told the female, waving a casual hand in the direction of Janeway, O'Brien and Bashir. "And these people are my colleagues. Who are you?"
The woman regarded him thoughtfully with tired eyes and a forlorn expression that clearly showed how overworked her current condition was. "You don't look like a human," she told him. "But these other three certainly do. You say you're from Starfleet?"
"Yes, we are," Data informed her as she tentatively accepted his hand and then firmly shook it.
"Well, so are we," replied the woman. "I am Lt. Sheila Wakefield, formerly a science officer on board a Starfleet exploration vessel."
"How did you get here?" asked O'Brien, his eyes widening with disbelief at her statement. Behind her the man named Mark who had left earlier returned with a slim, dark-haired woman walking confidently next to him. The two of them studied the four newcomers curiously.
"Captain... these people claim that they are also from Starfleet," said Lt. Wakefield informatively, turning her head so that she could speak directly to the other female.
Data's mind quickly accessed his memory core, which promptly supplied the necessary information needed to put the rest of the puzzle together. He studied the fatigued but recognizable face of the attractive, female Captain carefully. "I know who you are," the android declared confidently. "Your picture and personnel history is in Starfleet's memory banks. You are Captain Erika Hernandez, commander of Starfleet's second NX-Class starship U.S.S. Columbia... a vessel originally launched into service in Earth's 22nd century."
The charismatic female smiled boldly back at Data. "Guilty as charged," she responded crisply.