Star Trek: Voyager - 041 - The Eternal Tide Page 25

  It appeared that the rear of engineering, several meters beyond the central slipstream drive assembly and warp core, was a work in progress. Everything visible was complete and functioning, but it was as if a thick black curtain had been dropped vertically from the overhead to the deck at the far end, creating the illusion that the rest of engineering had yet to be constructed.

  The effect was both mesmerizing and ominous. Farkas found it difficult to tear her eyes away from the emptiness. It was so terrifying she felt it could engulf her. She found herself taking short, rapid breaths.

  Bryce soon spoke up. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “That’s one word for it,” Farkas agreed.

  “It’s doing a hell of a job on our sensors, but for the life of me I can’t tell you how or why. All the readings we can get say there is nothing there.”

  “Is it solid?” Farkas asked semi-seriously.

  “I don’t know,” Bryce replied. “I didn’t think touching it would be a good idea.”

  “Any readings from the ship beyond it?” Farkas asked. She had nursed the hope that here at ground zero, she might get some data.

  “No,” Bryce replied, “but it’s hard to believe it’s not still there.”

  “Or we wouldn’t still be here?” Farkas asked.

  “That’s my thinking,” Bryce agreed.

  “Captain Farkas?” a harried young ensign called from the doorway.

  “What is it, Ensign?” she asked.

  “We’ve established a communications relay to the bridge, and Commander Roach wishes to speak with you.”

  Farkas started to tap her combadge but realized immediately that it wasn’t working down here. Hurrying toward the door, she was led to a small screen angled against a bulkhead with several coils of ODN running from its back. Several rows of text were displayed on the screen, ending with the words, “Please advise when you are ready to proceed.”

  “Text?” Farkas asked.

  “It’s the best we can do, Captain,” the ensign replied. “I’ll be happy to relay your side of the conversation.”

  “Good work, Ensign.” Nodding gratefully, Farkas said, “Go ahead, Commander.”

  After a few moments, her first officer’s reply began to appear on the screen. The ensign read it to her dutifully. “We have received an answer to our distress call from Achilles. Incoming message is text only. They advise us to prepare for transport.”

  The ensign looked to the captain with visible relief, awaiting her response.

  Farkas ordered, “Acknowledge it. Alert all personnel in safe locations to remain where they are. Advise all others to proceed to the nearest safety zones.”

  Turning to Bryce, she added, “That includes you and your team, Lieutenant.” He started to refuse, but the captain raised a hand to silence him. “No buts, Lieutenant. The thirty seconds I just spent looking into that thing was more than enough to convince me that we’re not going to beat it, and we’re sure as hell not going to join it. If we’re going to learn about that thing, it will be from a ship that is intact.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Bryce replied, though his disappointment was obvious.

  “Good man.” Farkas smiled. “I’ll see you aboard Achilles. We’ll figure out our next move from there. ”

  HAWKING

  Lieutenant Vorik stared at the display panel, suppressing a feeling of relief that washed through him at the message from Achilles. The blue glow of Hawking’s warp core was the only illumination in main engineering. As he was the only one on duty, there was no one present to witness an emotional lapse. He knew the thirty-two other Vulcans still alive aboard the Hawking would sense his loss of control, and as the senior officer and new commander of the ship, he refused to allow that.

  The Hawking’s entrance into the anomaly had swallowed almost the entire ship, apart from engineering and some of the lower shuttle and cargo spaces. Vorik had worked diligently to assess the damage and see to the crew’s safety. All command controls had been routed to his station in engineering, where he did all he could to protect the warp core. The rest of the crew had been evacuated to the cargo bay. A secondary control interface had been established in the event Vorik’s was lost.

  During the last two hours the Hawking had slipped 9.2 meters farther into the void. Vorik estimated that the inky blackness consuming his ship was thirty-eight minutes from contact with the warp core. He presumed that at that point, the ship would be immediately destroyed.

  The Vulcan had erected a level-ten force field around the core, but given that the anomaly had digested the ship’s much more powerful shields, he didn’t expect it to hold. Vorik knew that his only chance for continued existence lay in rescue by one of the other fleet vessels. What readings he could get indicated that the Esquiline, Quirinal, and Curie were all trapped, although not as deeply as the Hawking. His hopes were pinned on the Achilles or Voyager, who would no doubt respond to their distress calls.

  With icy but calm fingers, he immediately forwarded the message from Achilles to the crew in the cargo bay. The Vulcan replied to the Achilles that the Hawking crew awaited immediate transport.

  Taking control of his emotions, Vorik waited for Achilles. He looked forward to the opportunity to reflect with his entire consciousness upon the loss of Captain Itak. His mentor, along with more than half of the crew, had been lost upon impact with the anomaly. Vorik intended to make it a personal priority to honor the dead.

  Just as soon as he had seen to the safety of the living.

  ACHILLES

  Afsarah Eden wondered when, exactly, she had become so effective at compartmentalizing her life. The captain knew she had taken great leaps forward in this regard when her marriage had collapsed. But, she secretly suspected that it had begun the moment she had left the company of her uncles.

  The captain stood waiting in the largest cargo bay on the Achilles. Commander Drafar and his four senior transport officers were working to acquire a stable lock on the crews of the four vessels. A smattering of crew members hurried back and forth, making necessary adjustments to the transporter systems on the fly. For now, Eden had set aside the fact that she had learned her very existence was a mystery surrounded by a puzzle encased in an enigma. She refused to examine Kathryn Janeway’s resurrection and the admiral’s news of a potential universal catastrophe that still needed averting. Eden was concentrating only on the task at hand. There was a chance that the seven hundred sixteen lives could be saved; that was the only thing she would allow herself to think about.

  Commander Drafar had immediately seen the potential in Admiral Janeway’s suggested use of the transporters and set to work modifying the transport protocols. He had personally overseen the modifications to the transport buffers, where the patterns of those they saved would be stored indefinitely. It would be necessary to begin to rematerialize them at regular intervals in order to maintain the stability of their patterns until permanent living arrangements could be made. It was still an open question as to how long more than seven hundred patterns could be safely stored, but less than half an hour after Janeway’s suggestion, Drafar had confirmed that he was ready to begin the transports.

  “With your permission, Fleet Commander, we will begin with the crew members aboard Curie,” he said, once all was in readiness.

  “Do it,” Eden replied. She believed that the Curie had been selected because at thirty-one, this was the smallest group they would attempt to transport at one time. Minimal communications had been established with the four ships, and all had indicated they stood ready for transport at Achilles’ discretion.

  Eden watched as Drafar rechecked his controls, for what she hoped was the last time, and with a sharp inhale said, “Lieutenant Cates, is our transporter lock on Curie’s survivors stable?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Initiate transport.”

  Eden felt the moment should have been accompanied by the sound of rising strings and percussion. Instead, a high beep was followed by a shri
ll ascending whine.

  “Watch the annular confinement, Lieutenant,” Drafar barked as Cates worked his console with great deliberation.

  “Aye, sir,” Cates replied.

  Eden watched as the signal widened briefly and quickly snapped back into the optimal zone.

  A few moments of silence, and Cates said calmly, “Transport successful.”

  Eden allowed herself a small internal celebration before asking, “Are their patterns stable within the buffers?”

  “Yes, sir,” Drafar replied.

  “Keep going,” Eden ordered.

  “Ensign Chase, is your lock on Hawking’s survivors stable?” Drafar inquired tonelessly.

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Initiate transport.”

  The operation was midway through completion when an alarm suddenly blared from Chase’s panel.

  “What’s that?” Eden demanded as both Chase’s and Drafar’s fingers quickened their pace at their respective controls.

  The Achilles captain was the first to report: “The Hawking is slipping farther into the anomaly. We are attempting to compensate.”

  Eden wanted to order him to hurry, but refrained, knowing that he was doing all he could. A few tense seconds later, the confinement beam controls stabilized and the deed was done. Before Eden could ask the question, Drafar said, “Confirm your count, Ensign Chase.”

  Chase’s fingers finally began to shake as he replied, “Twenty, sir. We only got twenty.”

  “There were thirty-three signals aboard Hawking?” Eden asked.

  “Yes,” Drafar replied, his voice thick and heavy. “The twenty we did recover are safely stored. Hawking has now slipped completely into the anomaly,” he added.

  Another ship lost, Eden’s conscience reminded her. Her heart began to pound at this unthinkable new reality, but she refused to give her grave disappointment any rein.

  “Esquiline is next,” she said evenly. “Let’s get to it.”

  Drafar nodded.

  Five minutes later, and with no further complications, the one hundred fifty-nine of Esquiline’s crew and the four hundred ninety-three of Quirinal’s were safely transported and stored.

  “Well done,” Drafar congratulated his staff, before moving on to the next phase of the operation. “Lieutenant Cates, prepare to initiate materialization of the first ten signals retrieved from Curie for stabilization.”

  “Belay that,” Eden said quickly, then added, “Commander Drafar, a word?”

  He stared down at her with a glare that could have melted tritanium, but followed her from the transporter controls and stood at attention.

  “Before we began, Voyager was detected on long-range sensors,” Eden said with more confidence than she felt.

  “They were,” Drafar replied.

  “Make best possible speed to intercept them. As soon as they are within communications range, alert Captain Chakotay that we have recovered all of the crew aboard those four ships, and to expect transport of four directly to my quarters.”

  Commander Drafar was attempting to maintain his composure, but his bafflement at her priorities was clear.

  “Once that is done, you will move Achilles beyond the effects of the anomaly, engage your slipstream engines, and set course for the Alpha Quadrant. As soon as you are in range, you will provide a full report to Starfleet Command of the fleet’s condition, which I have prepared, and await their orders for the stored personnel.”

  Drafar’s confusion passed, as her intentions became clear to him.

  “Maintaining the stability of the seven hundred and three patterns you are storing is my highest priority. Right now, Achilles is in harm’s way and I am unwilling to risk a single additional life lost to this madness. Your buffers will remain stable for the time it will take to complete the transfer of personnel to Voyager. Once you are again in open space you will begin the materialization rotations, and you will execute them continuously until Starfleet Command provides you with a means to off-load your new passengers.”

  “And once we have returned to the Alpha Quadrant?” Drafar asked, this time more gently.

  “Await further instructions,” Eden replied. “I don’t know how this is going to end, but by the time you could return to us, I’m willing to bet your assistance will no longer be required. The fleet has lost two, and now possibly five, of our original complement. I am certain Command will want to weigh in on our mission in the Delta Quadrant once this situation is resolved.”

  “What of the Galen and Demeter?” Drafar asked.

  “That’s my concern, Commander. Get the twelve hundred lives now in your hands safely home.”

  “Aye, sir.” Drafar nodded solemnly.

  Eden nodded briskly, then turned to leave him to it. Before she had taken two steps, Drafar said, “Fleet Commander?”

  “Yes?”

  “May the stars guide you in peace.”

  Eden didn’t recognize the saying, but assumed it was a Lendrin benediction. It communicated fully his understanding of the peril she was now facing, and his sincere hope that she would succeed in her efforts. Whatever doubts he might still harbor about her orders, she knew he understood how she felt toward her people and the lengths she would go to to ensure their safety.

  “And you as well,” Eden replied.

  Interlude

  OMEGA CONTINUUM

  “How many do you consider stable, Itak?”

  “Seven hundred eighty-five of our people are now one with the Continuum. Of those, three hundred ninety-one are still cognizant of who they are and what has happened. They confront their new reality with courage and grace, including you, Xin.”

  “And the others?”

  “Our efforts continue.”

  “If what you’ve just said is true, it may not matter.”

  “Preserving the dignity of every mind is a duty we will not shirk, whatever the conclusion.”

  “Do you believe this man Tallar?”

  “Deception is not possible here. His mental fortitude in the face of Omega is astonishing. It is born of his devotion to those he considers his family. I have seen what his garden once was. But I have also listened closely to Omega.”

  “I still don’t understand. How can this be Omega? Starfleet knows Omega. Its destructive capabilities are massive, but nothing on the order you are suggesting.”

  “Starfleet knows Omega’s shadow, a synthetic particle whose power dwarfs any known energy source. This place is the continuum of pure Omega. It is the truth that lies beyond the theoretical particle. It is no coincidence that the area of destabilization through which Tallar entered Omega lies in our Beta Quadrant, near the Lantaru sector.”

  “If we do nothing, Omega will continue to expand into normal space-time, eventually destroying all of it?”

  “This is Omega’s nature. It is the predetermined end toward which the universe irrevocably moves. The Omega Continuum is in its infancy, and were it not for our intrusion would still be countless centuries from its release and the concurrent destruction and rebirth of a new universe. The weak point we unintentionally exploited has altered Omega’s timetable. Unless we act, and quite soon, to seal this area of destabilization, Omega will continue to expand, and what should have existed for trillions of years will be extinguished within a relative blink.”

  “Why didn’t Tallar’s breach have the same effect upon Omega?”

  “The mass and energy we have brought into the Continuum is an ocean compared to Tallar’s drop of water. His actions have undoubtedly hastened the universe’s end, but not by a statistically significant margin. The same cannot be said of our vessels and their crews.”

  “Couldn’t all of us join Tallar in the garden? Destroying our ships is possible, clearly necessary. But must we sacrifice our lives as well?”

  “I cannot make this decision for you, Xin. You are the keeper of your own life and the lives of your crew. However, to spare the rest of the universe, I will not hesitate to do what must be done.”


  “And Captain Dasht?”

  “Despite my best efforts, I cannot focus his concentration sufficiently for him to comprehend the magnitude of this decision. His chief engineer, Lieutenant Derek Waverly, retains his faculties, and the decision for the Esquiline will be his.”

  “There is a young ensign aboard Quirinal, Sadie Johns. I found her once, and though she is terrified, the ensign has mastered her fear and could act for her ship.”

  “I would suggest you, I, Waverly, and Johns meet again with Tallar in his garden.”

  “For your plan to succeed, Tallar would also have to destroy his vessel.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe he will do so?”

  “He understands what is at stake and would not, I believe, willingly risk the lives of every creature in the known universe to continue the life he has come to despise.”

  “We are also deciding for those who are still on board our ships in normal space-time? They will have no say in our choice.”

  “My ship, the Hawking, was pulled completely into Omega. Thirty-three of my crew were not on board during the shift.”

  “You believe they were rescued by the rest of the fleet?”

  “That would be the logical assumption.”

  “Very well. I will find Ensign Johns.”

  “And I will locate Lieutenant Waverly.”

  “And how do I find the garden?”

  “Decide it is there, and it will be.”

  “Itak?”

  “Yes, Xin.”

  “How did we get here? What brought Omega into normal space in the first place?”

  “I do not know, nor does Tallar. It is a question that has plagued him for most of his life. For him it remains unanswered, and when he ceases to exist it will surely be his most poignant regret.”

  “Just decide? Decide the garden is there?”

  “And it will be.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  VOYAGER

  Captain Chakotay paced the floor of his ready room like a caged tiger. For more than thirty-six hours the image of Quirinal, Esquiline, Hawking, and Curie hanging fragmented, trapped in space, had not left his mind’s eye. Unable to form a stable warp field or use maximum impulse for more than a few minutes, Voyager clawed its way to the site in maddeningly small increments. Constant course corrections were needed. The entire senior staff was showing the strain. Everyone had maintained their professionalism despite the burden they all carried. Hundreds of lives depended upon their ability to safely and quickly mount a rescue.