Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

Tentrus VI was deep within its third ice age.

The four major oceans were frozen and most of the surface was covered by ice and snow. Life was sparse, only the most resilient animals and vegetation were able to sustain themselves in this extreme environment.

         The southern continent was defined by its massive mountain ranges, the lowest peak being just over five-thousand meters high while the bigger ones reached far above the high-hanging clouds.

The air was thin this far up but it was here where the only remaining evidence of an advanced civilization that had once thrived on this world remained. A complex series of structures had been erected on a large plateau near the peak of one of the highest mountains.

          The central square, right next to a frozen lake, was covered by centimeters of snow. A waterfall had once poured into the lake from the peak above but now it too was frozen into a massive column of ice. The stone buildings around the square had long ago assumed the shimmering white color of their surroundings. Some of the ancient buildings had stood the test of time and cold remarkably well while others had crumpled under the immense pressures that the freezing temperatures had put on them.

         Five blue energy beams appeared on the square and quickly gave way to five humanoids, dressed in red and white environmental suits.

         Xylion’s first instinct was to activate his scanning device to get a reading of their environment while Nora drew her weapon and made sure that there was no danger nearby. Armstrong and Deen showed an immediate interest in the buildings but did not move away from the party. Gene Edison looked around the square and waited for an initial report.

         “The temperature is minus sixteen degrees Celsius. The atmosphere is oxygen and nitrogen but considering the temperature and low oxygen levels due to our altitude, I recommend that we use the life support system,” said Xylion after finishing a rudimentary scan.

         Gene nodded.

         “These buildings are in remarkable condition,” said Deen and took a careful step toward them, the thick snow squishing underneath her boots.

         Armstrong had also activated his tricorder. “From what I can tell, the compound covers an area of about one-thousand square meters. It’s like a small village,” he said looking at Edison. He was obviously eager to explore the ruins.

         “I would sure love to have a chat with the architect of this place,” said Deen.

         “Me too,” said Nora putting her phaser away after she was satisfied that it was reasonably safe. “What sort of crazy people would put a village this far up a mountain? What’s wrong with putting it in a valley?”

         “We are fortunate that they erected this structure here,” said Xylion. “It would have been lost if it had been constructed closer to the surface.”

         “They must have foreseen the ice age,” said Armstrong. “The Hyterians had a foresight that encompassed centuries to come.”

         “They might have planned on preserving certain parts of their civilization for later visitors to find,” said Deen. His excitement was catching on.

         Nora took a few steps toward the buildings. “If I had incredible foresight, I wouldn’t build a colony on a planet that’ll turn into a frozen rock.”

         Gene smirked at Nora’s comment which seemed to be lost on the scientists. “All right people, let’s check it out. But keep in mind we’re here to find clues to the whereabouts of the artifact. Other expeditions can study their culture in more detail,” he said and led his team across the square.

         “Right,” said Armstrong under his breath, obviously disappointed by the orders before following the others.

         “I suggest we split up to maximize the efficiency of our survey,” said Xylion while they were approaching the main building’s large entrance.

         “Good idea,” said Gene as he passed underneath a wide stone arch that led into the building only to find himself in another, yet smaller square.

There was no roof but two rows of columns formed the middle of the space. There was little doubt that this structure had been built by the same people who had created the buildings at the other locations they had visited. Three additional passageways led from the square into other parts of the complex.

         He waited until the away team had assembled around him. But before he could give any orders, the ground under his feet began to tremble. It wasn’t an especially strong quake but it was enough to make him feel queasy.

         “This place is just getting better and better,” said Nora who had been caught as off guard by the quake as the other members of the away team.

         Xylion had taken scans even while the ground moved under his feet. “I am reading seismic activity of a low magnitude.”

         “This might account for the state of the structures,” said Armstrong.

         “Is there any immediate danger?” Gene said.

         Xylion took another look at his readouts. “That is difficult to determine from the scans I have taken. It appears obvious that this area is prone to seismic activity but it might occur infrequently and at different intensities.”

         “Very well, we’ll proceed with caution and return to the ship at the first sign of stronger quakes. Laas, Dee, you take the west. Keep your eyes open for anything that could reveal the location of the artifact. Xylion, Toby, you’re with me.”

         The four officers nodded and then split up by entering opposite hallways.

*        *        *

Gene led Xylion and Toby Armstrong down a long corridor barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast and made out of what appeared to be solid and featureless stone.

A sense of déjà vu settled over him from the many similar hallways he had explored over the last couple of days. There was no doubt that the Hyterians had a particular fondness for that simple yet functional design. These structures were nowhere in as good a condition as the ones they had found on Dentura I or inside the asteroid station. There were holes and wide cracks in the walls and in certain places, entire sections of the wall and the ceiling were missing.

He could not find any signs of the hidden power source they had become accustomed to in Hyterian structures, leading him to believe that it was damaged or had long since been exhausted. There was no artificial illumination or any indication of technology. Fortunately, the many cracks provided more than adequate light for the away team to see their steps and avoid losing their grip on the shiny and icy floor.

         Armstrong stopped when they reached a spot where the wall and ceiling had entirely collapsed. The corridor lay exposed under the sun of Tentrus for almost eight meters and the narrow passageway was coming perilously close to a sheer cliff. When he carefully approached the edge and looked down, he couldn’t even make out the bottom. He had a spectacular view of the surrounding mountain peaks, however. Icy winds blew against his protective suit making him lose his balance for a split second.

         He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see that Xylion had stepped behind him to steady him. He offered him a grateful nod as he took a step back from the cliff. “It’s a long way down.”

                  “The location the Hyterians chose for this building is impressive. This structure may have held a special significance,” said Xylion while taking a look at the peaks in the near distance.

         “Do you think they hid the artifact here?” said Gene.

         “It is possible,” Armstrong said.

         “But unlikely. This structure is highly exposed. The Hyterians were a space-faring society. It would be more logical to keep a device of great power in a more concealed place.”

         Gene turned to continue down the corridor. “That is if their logic is the same as yours.”

         Xylion nodded. “Indeed. Many ancient cultures had very different views of the universe and their own nature. We cannot naturally assume that their ways of thinking were the same as ours,” said Xylion in agreement while following him.

         “It would make our job easier though,” said Gene. He walked carefully along the opposite side of the gap and the two scientists followed his example. “But then again, that’s why you’re here, Mister Armstrong.”

         “I’m doing what I can, sir. But we’re not having much to work with and too little time.”

         Gene cleared the dangerous opening. He made sure the others passed him safely before he followed them. “Any thoughts on what it is exactly we’re looking for?”

         Armstrong shook his head. “We’ve yet to find any mention of a powerful artifact in the texts we have been able to translate so far.”

         “Nothing at all?”

         “We have only been able to decode thirty-six point seven percent of all the material we have gathered,” said Xylion who was now leading the team. “There is insufficient reference material at present to attempt further translation efforts.”

         “My best people as well as most of our computer resources are working on this around the clock,” said Armstrong. “We should get more results soon but the more material we collect, the quicker we’ll make progress.”

         They stepped into a larger room with three triangular but glass-less windows overlooking the vast depths below. Whatever purpose the room had once fulfilled, it had long since lost that function. The walls might have contained elaborate inscriptions and depictions once but the cold and the ice had shown no mercy or intention on preserving any ancient secrets. A narrow, winding staircase led upward.

Gene carefully approached the stairs and checked their integrity. Once he was reasonably sure they wouldn’t collapse under their collective weight, he began climbing them.

The others followed closely. They encountered an exit that seemed to lead to another yard but Gene opted to continue their ascent using the staircase instead. He took one step at a time, carefully balancing his weight. Once they had cleared the staircase, they found themselves in a similar room to the one where the stairs had originated from. They continued their search by entering yet another corridor.

         “Any speculations on what this artifact might do exactly?” said Gene, now leading the away team again.

         “Many,” said Armstrong.

         “It would be logical to assume that it is a weapon with the potential of causing widespread destruction.”

         “How so?”

         “It has captured the interest of Klingons, Romulans as well as Cardassians. The only reason these groups would divert such effort and resources to finding this artifact is that they are convinced that the device they are looking for is of immense power and therefore of great value to them.”

         “Yes, and let’s not forget that the Hyterians had access to a power source that is still a complete mystery to us. Their technology is so much more advanced than anything we know that it would be safe to assume that any weapon designed by the Hyterians would be inherently powerful,” added Armstrong.

         “So a doomsday device of some sort?” said the Gene, referring to the widely known but rarely encountered weapon of such destructive power that in theory it could obliterate entire solar systems. Rumors had it that these machines had been created by unknown civilizations from without the Milky Way galaxy. No present galactic empire had ever achieved creating such a weapon, mostly because the power it would consume was nearly immeasurable.

         “That is not entirely implausible,” said Xyliojn. “Especially because the Hyterians appear to have gone to great lengths and efforts to keep the artifact hidden.”

         “Well, gentlemen that’s even more reason to double our efforts to find this thing before anyone else does.”

         The two scientists nodded in agreement and increased their pace to match Edison’s.

*        *        *

DeMara was trying to record as much of her surroundings as possible while she and Nora Laas made their way through the compound. They hadn’t encountered much that was noteworthy. The corridor they had been walking down had quickly split up and they were now seemingly making their way from one empty room to the next. Many had neither walls nor roofs so for the most part it felt as though they were stepping through open ruins.

         Laas was getting impatient with her slower pace. She stopped and turned like she had done numerous times before to wait for her to finish a scan. “Dee, there’s nothing in here.”

         She looked up from her tricorder. “I beg to differ. The layouts of these rooms can tell us about how the Hyterians lived, how they thought, and what they valued most.”

         Laas sighed.

         “Look over there,” she said and pointed at a small platform that had been built into the stone wall. “That is the third altar I’ve seen so far. This could mean that Hyterians were very spiritual and that their faith was part of their everyday life.”

         “Yes, or maybe that’s where they put their flower pots.”

         She was about to reply when she changed her mind and thought better of it. Laas was not the right person to discuss the scientific method with. She closed her tricorder and followed the security officer out of the room.

         “Being Bajoran, I would have thought you’d show more interest in a religious culture,” she said as they walked side by side.

         “I’ve never been very spiritual,” she said. “Even less so since I left Bajor,” she added in a thoughtful tone as if reflecting on a lifelong past.

         “Do you miss it? Bajor, I mean.”

         She didn’t answer right away. She didn’t enjoy being reminded of the place she had once called home. To her, she had left all that behind a long time ago. “All I remember of Bajor is the fighting and the people I saw die. I don’t miss that in the least,” she said. It wasn’t the complete truth but it was good enough for now, she decided.

         DeMara nodded in sympathy. For her, it was difficult to even imagine what Laas’ life must have been like before joining Starfleet. DeMara had been raised and had spent her childhood on a planet that some outside observers had called a place of perfect harmony.

         She had never quite seen her home world in that same way but she had to admit that their people’s way of life was nothing to what she had encountered after she had left. Wars and violence had been difficult concepts for her to fully understand at first and even after her Starfleet training and years in service, she hadn’t quite figured out why some people chose to kill others for material gain, for power, or ideological reasons. She would never understand why the Cardassians had invaded Bajor and oppressed the inhabitants and forced them to labor for them.

         “But Bajor has changed. The Cardassians are gone,” she said after a short while.

         “Maybe so but I have a new home now,” Laas said. “I might go back someday. Maybe when I’ll get too old for this,” she said as her facial features began to relax. “But I do not intent to retire for a long time to come.”

         “And I bet you’ve got other things that keep you here as well,” she said with a little smirk dancing on her lips.

         She stopped and aimed a puzzled expression at the younger woman. The tone of her voice had been suggestive. “My duty,” she said.

         “That too,” said DeMara, stopping as well.

         “What else is there?”

         “You know, certain crewmembers.”

         Laas continued down the broken hallway. “Of course. I greatly enjoy working and socializing with the crew.”

         Her smile grew wider. “There is no harm in admitting that you like him, you know.”

         She stopped again but kept her back to DeMara for a few seconds before turning to face her with that same puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”

         She rolled her eyes. Laas was her friend but when it came to matters she deemed personal she was as hesitant as a complete stranger. “Our first officer, of course.”

         “Gene?” she said, trying to sound surprised. “I get along with him, just like I get along with everyone else onboard.”

         This time DeMara moved on, leaving Laas behind her. “Well, I for one can’t recall you calling him Gene before,” she said, walking by the dumbfounded security chief.

         “I didn’t.” Laas turned. “Did I?”

         DeMara halted and faced her, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Admit it. You’re not just getting along with him. You’re getting along with him famously.”

         “Who told you that?” she said, her voice much louder than she had wanted. But she couldn’t help herself. She was getting angry at the fact that people were talking behind her back. Worse yet, talking about something she had trouble getting to grips with herself.

         “It’s obvious to everyone, Laas,” she said in a more serious tone.

         She was about to raise her voice again but she couldn’t. It was hard to yell at DeMara for whatever reason and that in itself was quite frustrating to her. One look at her face and her sparkling purple eyes was usually enough to want her to evaporate any kind of rage she might have felt bubbling under the surface. This had been very upsetting when she had met her for the first time. She had gotten used to it by now but not entirely. Like everyone else, she admired DeMara and her people but at the same time, she was often confused and frustrated with them. She took a deep breath.

         “I don’t understand why you insist on keeping it a secret,” DeMara said softly. “I’d say you two make a great couple.”

         “Because…“ Laas stopped herself when she realized that she had already given away more than she had wanted. “Because it’s nobody else’s business. That’s why.”

         DeMara’s tricorder interrupted any further conversation when it sounded an alert. She looked at the device and quickly muted it.

         Laas stepped next to her.

         “I’m reading life signs nearby,” she whispered.

         “How far?” said Laas in an equally quiet tone.

         She pointed westwards. “Seventeen meters. That direction.”

         Laas nodded. “Stay back,” she said and began to carefully make her way in that direction. If there was something Laas knew how to do it was sneaking up on people, a skill that had kept her alive when she had been little more than a child.

         They silently crossed a large square that might have been a room once and then entered what seemed to be a spacious chamber. Three wide columns close to the entrance concealed whatever lay within.

         Laas took cover behind one of the stone pillars and gestured for DeMara to do the same behind the other.

         Once DeMara was in position, she took another look at the tricorder. For some reason, it could not tell her how many life signs there were or of what sort. She looked at Laas and communicate to her using hand gestures.

         Laas nodded and drew her phaser.

         DeMara put her tricorder away and followed suit.

         The security chief raised her hand and wordlessly began counting down from three.

         On her mark, they both sprang out from behind their cover with their weapons ready to fire.

         “Wait, don’t shoot!”

         Laas froze.

         Three men in Starfleet environmental suits were standing in front of her, their own weapons drawn.

         Armstrong let out a gasp. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

         “You picked up life signs?” said Laas and put her phaser back into the holster at her hip.

         “Yes. And they led us right here,” said Gene securing his weapon. “I can’t believe it was you we picked up.”

         “I don’t think it was,” said DeMara who had taken another look at her scanning device.

         Gene and Laas gave her a puzzled look.

         “She is correct. You didn’t.”

         The away team turned to discover seven figures standing at the opposite end of the room. They too were clad in environmental suits but theirs were brownish in color. Their heads were covered by a transparent fabric-like revealing the familiar ridges of Cardassian faces. They carried rifles and they were all pointed at the Starfleet officers.

         “This would be the part where you drop your weapons,” said the man standing at the center of the Cardassian party. He had an impossibly wide grin on his face.

         “Gul Renek,” said DeMara who recognized the Cardassian from their meeting by the asteroid station.

         “The very same,” he said and raised his rifle higher to emphasize his point.

         The away team disarmed itself. Everyone except Laas. The gleaming in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Gene. “Laas,” he said in a soft tone.

         She turned to look at him.

         “Don’t,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.

         She turned to see the Cardassian’s self-satisfied grin and closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe that she had gotten herself captured by her sworn enemy. She opened her eyes again and then dropped her weapon.

         “Good choice,” said Renek. “Consider yourself prisoners of the Cardassian Union.” He took a step toward Nora. “Especially you, Bajoran,” he said with disdain. “I’m sure that’s something that you should be used to by now.”

         Gene reacted quickly and positioned himself carefully between her and the Cardassian commander. “What is it you want?”

         “I’m pretty sure you know what we want,” he said. “It’s the same thing you want.”

         “You are mistaken if you believe that we are in possession of the artifact you seek,” said Xylion.

         “I realize that you don’t have it. But the fact that you are here means that this place might hold the key to finding it. Now hand over your scanning and communication devices,” he said once again lifting his rifle in a threatening manner.

         The away team didn’t move.

         “I do not intend to kill you, it’s not the kind of political fallout I’m interested in, but trust me when I say that we have means at our disposal that are far worse than death. Ask your Bajoran lackey, I’m sure she knows what I’m talking about.”

          None of them needed to ask Laas about his implications. Cardassian torturing methods had a well-established reputation.

         Gene signaled for the others to comply. For now, he did not see a better option.

The away team removed their combadges from their suits and handed over their tricorders. Two Cardassian soldiers collected the Starfleet equipment, including the weapons. They handed the scanning devices to their commander and then took positions overlooking their prisoners.

         Renek accessed the data contained in the tricorders but didn’t seem to be satisfied with what he found. He glanced at Edison. “Looks like you haven’t had much luck yet. No matter,” he said and gave the tricorder to one of his subordinates. “We will reveal whatever secrets are hidden here.”

         “By leaving no stone on top of the other no doubt,” said Laas under her breath.

         The Cardassian did not catch the Bajoran’s remark. “You shall be returned to your ship once I’m satisfied you have shared all relevant information with me.”

         “You’ll let us go?” said Armstrong surprised. He had never been a prisoner but he had heard plenty of stories about those unfortunate enough to fall in their clutches. If only half of those were true, he knew that he and the others were as good as dead.

         “Once your captain has provided adequate compensation for our efforts,” he said.

         “What efforts?” said DeMara.

         “Entertaining you as our guests, of course,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an artifact to find. Feel free to stay here and do absolutely nothing,” he said and signaled his men to follow him out of the hall. Three of the soldiers remained to keep guard over their prisoners.

         DeMara turned to Gene. “He’s going to try and exchange us for the data we have collected on the artifact so far.”

         “That isn’t much though, is it?” said Gene while keeping his eyes on the guards.

         “We don’t know that yet. We might already have the location of the artifact without even knowing it. We cannot let them have our research,” said Armstrong. He wasn’t especially bold or courageous but he was suddenly very much aware of what Edison and Owens had talked about. If this artifact proved to be a doomsday device it could not be allowed to fall into enemy hands. Five lives were a small price to pay to prevent that from happening.

         Gene remained silent. His instincts told him that if the captain had to be forced to make a decision, he would always put the well-being of many over the well-being of just a few. It was what he would do in his position. But he didn’t even want to imagine what the Cardassians might do with them if the captain proved unwilling to cooperate.

“I say we take them,” Laas said through clenched teeth while studying the guards closely. “I say we take them right now.”

         “Considering our current situation, the chances of successfully overpowering the guards and surviving the ensuing conflict are less than eleven-point-four percent.”

         The three-armed Cardassians were standing about five meters from the away team, two at their flanks and one directly in front of them. Not willing to take any chances, they all had their rifles pointed at their prisoners, ready to fire if they made any move to try and escape.

         “We can’t just stand here and wait for them to kill us,” said Laas and shot Xylion a glare although the Vulcan did not seem to be impressed by her emotional outburst.

         Then the ground split open.

*        *        *

Shortly after the away team had transported off Eagle, Michael had left the bridge to make for his quarters. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have left while a critical away mission was in progress but he had made an exception this time. He knew that the mission could take hours and he could no longer fight the fatigue beginning to take over his body and mind.

This shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering that he hadn’t had a good night’s rest for days. None of his officers, not even Doctor Wenera realized this but Michael had been plagued by strange dreams ever since he had collapsed on Hyteria. It was one of the reasons he had tried to avoid sleep as much as possible as he had since learned the hard way, his dreams did not care if he was asleep or not.

He had kept the details of his nightmares a secret for obvious reasons. And since he had found out that they were in fact looking for a weapon of enormous power it had become even more imperative that he remained in control of Eagle. Something that would be at risk if he were to admit his true condition.

He was still convinced that whatever it was that was causing these exhausting visions, he still had a handle on it and that eventually they would pass. He had no concerns with leaving Leva temporarily in charge of the bridge in his absence, knowing well that he was a capable officer.

He hoped a quick sonic shower would suffice to stave off the fatigue.

         Michael Owens never even reached his quarters.

He had felt his body grow heavier with each step and soon enough it was nearly impossible to set one foot after the other as if he was walking against a powerful and invisible current.

His vision blurred and the corridor began to twist and turn like an angry snake. He stopped and reached out to grab hold of the bulkhead in case his balance was going to leave him next.

 He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ventured another step.

This one turned out to be much easier than the ones that had come before.

He opened his eyes.

And found that he was no longer on his ship.

He was back amongst the ruins of the Hyterian city they had visited days before and it felt all perfectly real. The smell of the fresh air, the touch of the nearby stone, and the warm sunshine on his face.

It was nothing like a dream but he knew it couldn’t be real.

The ruins had been destroyed.

He stood only a few meters from the large temple-like building that had captured his attention the first time he had visited this world. The very same place where he had been injured. 

He approached the building and walked up the few steps leading up to it. He entered the passageway and carefully made it into the oval chamber.

He moved to the center of the room only very hesitantly, the memory of collapsing here for no apparent reason still fresh in his memory.

He didn’t lose consciousness this time.

Instead, the room came to life.

The inscriptions on the walls began to glow in bright blue colors while outside day turned into night.

Strange and unfamiliar voices began to speak up. He did not understand the language but he knew he had heard it before. Most prominent of all was a distinctly female voice. It was soft and soothing. So harmonic that Michael couldn’t be sure if she was talking or singing.

A three-meter-wide circle of pure yellow light appeared on the floor around him making him its center. It moved upward, creating a veil of light between the floor and the ascending ring.

The circle of light passed his hips then his face and continued its journey toward the sky. He reached out carefully to touch the vail of light that gently moved with the wind. His hand easily passed through it without resistance and left a warm and tingling sensation on his skin. He retracted the hand and looked up. It had traveled out of his sight and he was now standing within a column that seemed to reach to infinity.

His attention was redirected toward the voice.

He still did not understand what the woman was saying in her sing-song voice but her tone had grown more urgent.

When he looked up again, he could see something approaching him within the column. Before he could even think of stepping out of its way a beam of pure light hit him from above. He gasped at the suddenness with which it had made contact but he quickly came to realize that it was harmless.

More than harmless. It felt pleasant. Revitalizing.

The ray grew in width until it had him completely swallowed up.

The woman began to speak faster and the light became brighter. Soon it completely illuminated the chamber he was standing in. The intensity increased still though he remained at the center of its focal point he felt neither heat nor pain.

Within moments not only the chamber but the entire sky above him was bright as day.

It was like nothing Michael had ever experienced.

It was intense and yet comforting, disturbing in a sense but also as natural as sunlight. He was soaking up the energy released here like a sponge and it gave him never-before-known strength, comfort, and confidence.

The only thing truly askew was the warning voice of the unseen woman.

And then everything changed.

The beam of light began to pulse erratically and whatever comfort he had known quickly evaporated when he felt it release a massive amount of heat.

So much he instantly stepped out of the circle.

It wasn’t enough.

The voice was now booming as though to warn him to get away while he still could.

The angrily fluctuating beam of light began to grow and expand across the chamber. The heat increased but so did its intensity and brightness. Slowly the chamber began to fade as if it was being wiped out of existence.

Michael ran.

By the time he cleared the building, he found the world on fire.

He didn’t stop, didn’t even take the time to wipe the sweat off his face.

He couldn’t stop. Behind him, a wall of pure, bright white light turned everything it came into contact with into nothingness.

And it moved faster than he could.

It finally caught up with him like the shockwave of an explosion.

He froze when he realized there was nowhere else to go. The world was gone, turned into complete and utter blankness.

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His rational mind tried to convince him that what he had witnessed was impossible.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back where he had started. Back in the corridor on Eagle with no sign of the depressing desolation or the Hyterian city. It was as though he had never left the ship and something told him that he hadn’t.

Sweat pearls dropped into his eyes.

         “Bridge to the captain.”

         He still felt unsteady on his feet but the fatigue he had felt earlier was gone. So was the strange, invisible current that had made it so difficult to move.

         To his relief, he found that the corridor was empty. There were no crewmembers in sight who could have wondered about their captain’s strange behavior.

         “Bridge to Captain Owens,” said Leva again, his voice containing a hint of concern now.

         Michael stood away from the bulkhead once he was satisfied that the episode had passed. “This is Owens,” he said, still sounding much weaker than he had anticipated.

         “Sir, a Romulan warbird has just entered the system and is approaching the planet.”

         He took another breath and forced himself to backtrack his steps. “Understood, I ‘m on my way.”

*        *        *

The quake that shook the icy mountain was nothing like the one the away team had experienced before.

By the surprised look on the Cardassians’ faces, it was quite clear that they did not know about the seismic activity the region was prone to.

         The quake intensified and part of the back wall of the large room collapsed, engulfing the surprised guard who was standing closest in a cloud of dust and debris.

         The noise was near deafening but Laas knew that this was their best chance. She glanced at Gene who had clearly been thinking the same thing. He promptly offered an approving nod.

         Without wasting another second, they both charged. Laas the guard on the left, the first officer singled out the one on the right.

         The Cardassian didn’t even her coming.

Laas leveraged not only her speed but also her hatred for Cardassians to press her attack. She had clenched both her fists to deliver a devastating blow against the guard’s head. Her fists impacted with his lower jaw and his screams left no doubt that she had dislocated the bone. She ignored the pain that shot through her own hands while the Cardassian flew backward and landed on the hard stone floor.

He tried to crawl back onto his feet but Laas refused to show mercy and followed up by kicking him hard into his unprotected face. He flipped over and onto his back and passed out from the pain almost instantly.

Gene’s attack was less ruthless yet as effective. The guard on his side was not quite as distracted. From the corner of his eye, he had spotted the threat approaching. He swung around but by the time he could squeeze off a shot, Gene was already so close, he simply shoved the rifle aside allowing the deadly energy blast to fizzle harmlessly into the air.

Gene delivered a powerful blow into his midsection, aiming just under his ribcage and driving his fist upward. The guard began to double over but another blow to his head stopped him short and jerked him backward instead.

He landed unceremoniously on his back where he remained.

Then Gene heard the shots.

He whipped around to see that they had come from where the third guard had stood.

He could see the man outlined within the slowly dissipating dust cloud. He had survived the collapse of the far wall and was now firing blindly at the away team.

“Get down,” yelled Gene as he rushed the Cardassian, trying to reach him before he could get a clean shot.

DeMara, Armstrong, and Xylion scrambled for cover.

         Gene wasn’t quite fast enough. The Cardassian had taken a couple of steps to clear the cloud and brought up his rifle again to find the nearest target of opportunity.

         It turned out to be Toby Armstrong.

         Gene jumped but not before the guard managed to squeeze off a shot.

         The young archeologist went down as he screamed in pain.

         Gene tackled his target at full speed but realized too late that his momentum would push them both toward a wall that no longer existed.

Laas watched with terrible foreboding. She raced toward the scene but she was already too late and watched with disbelieving eyes as both Gene and the Cardassian tumbled over the cliff.

         When she reached the collapsed wall, she found that she couldn’t even approach the cliff safely, with powerful gale-force winds keeping her back. She could spot a few clouds but was unable to see what lay directly below.

         She thought she could hear a faint noise over the hauling wind but she couldn’t be certain. There was no reason to believe that Gene Edison could have survived the fall, and all signs seemed to point toward the simple fact that he had not.

It was not an outcome she was willing to accept.

Armstrong in the meantime had hit the floor and clenched the wound on his chest. The phaser beam had ripped through his suit and blood was rapidly soaking the uniform underneath.

         DeMara and Xylion had hurried to his side immediately.

         DeMara knelt next to him and investigated the wound while Xylion opened a tricorder he had collected from one of the fallen Cardassians.

         “It’s bad, isn’t it?” said Armstrong, his face distorted by pain.

         She looked at him. “It’s going to be all right.”

         “I’m going to die.”

         She smiled her marvelous smile and looked right into his eyes. “You’re going to be just fine, Toby,” she said and took his hand into hers.

         Doomed or not, Armstrong couldn’t help but believe her. He suddenly found it very difficult not to. As if it was impossible that the beautiful young woman could have ever said anything to him that wasn’t the truth, as if she was incapable of lying.

         It gave him a sense of comfort he had rarely felt before.

         She looked up at Xylion.

         “We must return him to the ship immediately,” he said and closed his tricorder.

She nodded.

         Xylion looked up to see Nora Laas still trying to locate the first officer near the cliff. “Lieutenant, is there any sign of Commander Edison?”

         Laas ignored him. Instead, she quickly approached one of the incapacitated Cardassian guards and collected her gear. “I’m going to go find him.”

         “Lieutenant, we must return to Eagle. We will come back with a search party.”

“You go ahead, I stay here and look for Edison,” she said and headed for the nearest exit.

         “That is unacceptable,” said Xylion while she walked away.

         But Laas didn’t listen and within moments she was gone.

*        *        *

His recent experience haunted him all the way to the bridge. When he stepped out of the turbolift his forehead was still covered with perspiration and his knees felt weak. His strength was returning but only gradually.

Michael had no time to be weak. He wiped away the sweat, determined to face the Romulans with resolve after already having suffered one painful blow by their hand.

He walked down the ramp and toward the command area of the bridge and by the time he had reached his chair, he had already forced the memories of his unexplained sensation out of his mind.

         Leva had risen from the center seat once he had noticed him and quickly returned to his station.

         Michael took his chair, glad for the opportunity. He was also relieved to realize that the bridge officers were too busy to take notice of the paleness of his face.    

Only seconds after Leva had reassumed his regular post his console informed him of yet another occurrence. “Sir, the away team has returned to the ship.”

         Michael simply nodded.

         “Lieutenant Nora and Commander Edison are still on the surface, however,” he continued, unable to keep his voice entirely free of concern

         “Still on the surface?”

         “Yes. Commander Xylion is on his way to brief you as we speak.”

         Michael’s thoughts quickly rearranged themselves to push matters of immediate concern into the foreground.

         “The Romulan warbird is approaching our position,” said Ensign Lance Stanmore who was in charge of operations in Deen’s absence.

         “Mister Culsten, set course to intercept,” he said. “I want to face those Romulans head-on instead of sitting duck in orbit. They have already shown their hostile intentions once and I do not intend to be their victim for a second time.”

         Culsten acknowledged and then steered the ship away from the planet and toward the majestic warbird.

         “Go to yellow alert. Raise shields.”

         Xylion entered the bridge and stepped into the command area.

         Michael stood. The uneasiness he had felt before, vanished. “What happened down there, Commander?”

         “We were taken prisoner by a Cardassian landing party but were able to overpower them. Commander Edison was separated as a result. I ordered the away team to return to the ship after Lieutenant Armstrong was injured.”

         “What about Nora?”

         “She disregarded my order and stayed behind to locate Commander Edison,” said the Vulcan. “Sir, I am unsure if he’s still alive.”

         Michael felt his throat tighten.

         “We are intercepting the warbird in thirty seconds,” said Culsten.

         “Understood, Commander,” Michael said, realizing that he had to deal with one crisis at a time. “We’ll deal with that matter as soon as we can.”

“The Romulan ship is slowing,” said Leva.

         “Match your speed, Mister Culsten.”

         “Aye, sir.”

         Both ships slowed until they came to a complete stop only a few thousand meters from each other. The imposing green warbird almost twice the size of the Federation starship.

         The Romulan vessel filled out the entire view screen on Eagle’s bridge. Michael knew that the ship was as menacing as its looks suggested. It was more than capable to pose a serious threat to Eagle.

         “They are hailing us,” said the half-Romulan tactical officer. He seemed quite unperturbed by the fact that he was about to face his own people. He had never been forced to fight other Romulans in a major combat engagement but the unsteady relationship between the Federation and the Star Empire had always made that a possible scenario.

Michael had no concerns about the man’s loyalties if it came to a fight. “On screen.”

         Two Romulan officers appeared on the viewer. Only the woman on the right spoke. She appeared quite young for a starship commander but her facial expression and body language seemed so tense that Michael was sure that she must have been extremely uncomfortable. “This is Sub-commander Sentar of the Imperial warbird Heruc. You have trespassed on a world claimed by the Romulan Star Empire. You are to surrender any information or objects you have retrieved from that world and leave this system immediately if you wish to avoid serious repercussions,” she said in what seemed to be a well-rehearsed speech.

         “I was not aware that the Romulan Empire had claimed this system or anything else this far outside your territory,” said Owens.

         “An honest mistake on your part,” said the man sitting next to Sentar. He seemed to be a subordinate to the woman but his attitude was as self-assured as his superior’s. “We shall overlook your oversight and spare you further embarrassment if you leave at once.”

         Michael sat in his chair and Commander Xylion followed suit by sitting next to him to present a united front against the Romulan duo.

         “I would, unfortunately, there is a problem.”

         Sentar raised an eyebrow in an almost Vulcan fashion.

         “You are, in fact, guilty of trespassing on a planet claimed by the Federation. Not only that but you ruined an archeological dig site on that very planet. You destroyed Federation property without provocation,” said Michael. “Not to mention that you endangered Starfleet personnel in the process. This is a serious matter. You understand my dilemma?”

         The Romulans did not answer. They had apparently not expected him to make the incident on Hyteria official. The two Romulan commanders exchanged a quick look. “We will have to consider what you have said, Captain,” said Sentar. “You will remain at your present position until this matter has been resolved to our satisfaction.” She was trying to maintain her authoritative tone but it had begun to crack, showing her apparent inexperience in dealing with foreign matters.

         She pressed a button on a computer console next to her and the picture faded away.

         Michael knew that he had merely bought some time. Romulans could be extremely stubborn and once they had laid eyes on something they wanted, they would find a way to justify getting it. No matter who got in their way.

         “Mister Culsten, how far are we from Tentrus VI?”

         “Five and a half million kilometers,” he said. “Well outside scanning and transporter range,” he added, sensing his commanding officer’s intention.

         Leva stepped away from his station and walked down to the command area. “Captain, I request permission to take a shuttle and return to the planet and get our people.”

         Michael shook his head. “Too dangerous while the warbird has us in their sights. They might interpret it as an aggressive gesture and open fire.”

         “I doubt that, sir. At the moment they are uncertain as to how to proceed. I do not think they’d be bold enough to fire upon a shuttlecraft and provoke a battle with Eagle,” he said. “I know how they think. They’re trying to figure out how to get what they want without causing an interstellar incident. They are convinced that they haven’t done anything yet that can’t be justified. They blow a shuttle out of space and they’ll lose any chance to explain this away.”

         Michael looked at Xylion for further advice.

         “I concur that their recent behavior suggests that they would prefer avoiding open hostilities. It stands to reason that they would not wish to be seen as an aggressor in an ensuing conflict to retain plausible deniability. However, I strongly recommend that we do not move Eagle as this may be interpreted as an aggressive gesture.”

         Michael’s glance returned to his tactical officer. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was eager for the chance to rescue his comrades. “Very well, we’ll send a shuttle.”

         Leva nodded with satisfaction.

         “But not you, Commander,” said Michael causing the Romulan’s features to darken.

         “Sir?”

         “I need you here in case you’re wrong and they consider open hostilities a small price to pay for a chance to obtain the Hyterian artifact,” he said and turned to Xylion. “Commander, assemble an armed detachment and locate Nora and Edison. Return as quickly as possible.”

         Xylion nodded.

         “I want you back on Eagle if there is any indication that the Romulans or the Cardassians are moving in on the shuttle.”

         “Yes, sir,” said the Vulcan and made his way to the nearest turbolift.

         “Mister Leva, send word to the Heruc. Inform them that we are dispatching a shuttlecraft to the planet to retrieve our crew.”

         Leva’s disappointment was obvious but to his credit, he didn’t hesitate and confirmed the order with a short nod and then returned to his station.

         Michael sat back in his chair and sharply monitored the Romulan ship on the view screen. Ball’s in your court, he thought grimly.

*        *        *

Laas found a staircase and made her way down as quickly as the frozen steps allowed.

She had just disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer based on nothing more than a gut feeling. But at least for the moment, her thoughts were not focused on what she had done but on what she needed to do next.

Gene was still alive and she had to find him. She didn’t know how she knew, the rational part of her brain tried to convince her that she had no basis whatsoever to believe this but she paid little attention to that. She just knew.

The staircase ended and she found herself in one of the many similar-looking chambers of the Hyterian compound. She was about to cross the room to get to the other side when she heard the voices.

She froze.

They sounded familiar and they were closing.

She quickly stepped back into the winding staircase for cover.

Not a moment later a group of Cardassians entered the chamber from one of the many arches that led inside. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but from the animated discussion they were having, it was clear that they weren’t happy.

         Laas raised the rifle she had taken from the unconscious guard earlier and took careful aim at Gul Renek. She had a clear shot and a compelling yearning to squeeze the trigger. Renek would be one of many Cardassian commanders she had killed in a very similar fashion. It would have been just one more.

         She hesitated, something she would never have done ten years earlier.

         She lowered the rifle.

That person she had once been was long gone, left behind on a war-torn planet. She was a Starfleet officer now and more importantly, she had a mission that required her to remain unseen.

         The Cardassians seemed to be communicating with their ship. Renek was furious about the news he had been given and promptly stormed out of the chamber closely followed by his men.

Laas could only guess what had upset him that much. To her relief, he was too distracted to think of contacting his guards as the com-unit she had taken remained silent.

Once the Cardassians were gone, she carefully stepped out of her hiding place and approached one of the large, empty window frames just in time to witness them dematerialize in rays of crimson light. They had returned to their ship.

         She then left the chamber to continue her search.

Without DeMara's meticulous approach slowing her down, her exploration of the ancient structure proceeded at a much faster pace. She was not concerned with finding any hidden artifacts or remains of scientific interest. She was simply trying to scour the westwards facing lower levels, the only places where Gene could have landed after he had fallen.

She quickly realized that the entire structure was much bigger than she had first assumed. It seemed to be divided into different parts with streets and large squares separating them not unlike a village.

Laas hurried through the rooms and across the narrow alleys as fast as she could, with just one thing on her mind.

She tried to look for clues, disturbed ground, pieces of his environmental suit, or maybe blood. But there was nothing.

She didn’t let that deter her.

She continued downward, taking one staircase after the next until she had reached the lowest level of the compound.

The building from which Gene had fallen was to her immediate right. She stood on a small plaza, a large obelisk-like statue at its center.

Doubts were beginning to spread in her mind. If Gene wasn’t here, there weren’t many other places she could look. If he wasn’t here then he had plummeted off the mountain and to his certain death. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, there simply couldn’t be any other explanation.

She lowered her rifle to activate her com-unit. She needed mountain climbing gear to continue her search. She’d repel down the entire height of the cliff if she had to.

But before she could activate the device, the ground began to tremble once more.

She fought to maintain her balance but the quake only intensified.

She lost that battle and was painfully thrown onto the stone-tiled street.

Out of the corner of the eye, she noticed that the stone obelisk that stood nearby had begun to wobble dangerously.

It happened so quickly that she barely had time to react.

Another jolt gripped the ground and the tall monolith came crashing down.

Directly toward her.

She rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed but the impact was so forceful it ripped the ground wide open, swallowing her and dragging her into darkness.

*        *        *

“What is the status of the De Gaulle?” said Michael, sitting in his chair at the center of the bridge.

         His science officer and a security detachment had left Eagle in the shuttle De Gaulle only a few minutes ago. Their departure had been uneventful. Leva and Xylion had remained right and the Romulans had shown no sign of hostility so far but Michael knew that that could change in a heartbeat.

         “They’ll be entering the planet’s orbit momentarily,” said DeMara Deen who had since returned to her station on the bridge.

         “So far so good.”

         Michael's sentiment didn’t last very long. As if on cue, a sensor alert from Leva’s station signaled trouble.

         “A Cardassian ship has appeared close to the planet,” the tactical officer said.

         Michael stood up. “Damn.”

         “Same configuration as the ship we encountered earlier,” said Leva. “It’s the Keldana.”

         “They must have followed us from the asteroid,” said Culsten.

         Michael nodded, silently chastising himself for not having been more cautious. “Why didn’t we detect that ship earlier?”

         “Judging by their ion trail, they must have maintained a low altitude orbit over the magnetic pole of Tentrus VI,” said DeMara. “We would not have seen them unless we knew where to look.”

         “The Cardassian ship is approaching the De Gaulle and…” Leva interrupted himself to double-check his computer panel.

         “What is it?” said Michael.

         “The warbird is moving to intercept the Keldana.”

         “This could turn ugly,” said Michael. “What about our shuttle?”

“The Keldana has changed course to intercept the Heruc. The De Gaulle is being left alone of the now.”

“They’re going after the bigger fish,” said Culsten.

         “I believe the Romulans have hailed the Kaldana,” said DeMara. A small smile formed on her lips. “If I make this out correctly, they’re both trying to claim this system for themselves.”

         “Under different circumstances, this could be quite amusing,” said Culsten who couldn’t hide a smile either.

         “We’ve got a new contact.”

         Michael turned to face Leva. There had been something in his tactical officer’s tone he had never heard before. It wasn’t quite fear but it was perhaps the closest thing he had ever witnessed in his voice.

         “What is it?”

         “Holy mother of King—” said Culsten slowly but unable to finish his sentence. His eyes were fixed on the viewscreen

         Michael turned back to the screen, curious to find the reason for his helmsman's unusual exclamation and his tactical officer’s apparent trepidation.

When he finally recognized what had caused everyone’s surprise, he wished he hadn’t looked. The screen showed a massive gray and black globe approaching his ship. It had no visual features that could have hinted to a propulsion or weapon systems of any kind but Michael knew exactly what they were facing; one of the most powerful and fearsome races in the known galaxy.

         “It’s a Borg sphere,” said DeMara, her eyes the size of saucers.

*        *        *

Laas opened her eyes and saw nothing at all.

         She tried to move and found that it would be a difficult task. She was halfway buried underneath rock.

Then her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings and she was able to make out the contours of a cave. Her glance wandered upward and she could see pieces of what remained of the obelisk. But the fracture through which she had slipped was now sealed by earth and rock. She would not be able to return that way.

         The quakes had since stopped but she was in a precarious position. The slightest tremor could potentially loosen the feeble ceiling above her and this time there’d be no room to evade it.

         She put all her strength into trying to free herself.

         The third attempt did the trick.

         She managed to pull herself out from under the rock and quickly inspected her suit. She noticed with relief that it was undamaged except for a slight crack in the transparent aluminum visor. She felt bruised but found that she hadn’t broken any bones.

         Her gear, however, including the phaser rifle and the com-unit were gone.

         She noticed a dim light coming from somewhere further down the cavern. It was the only way to go and so with little hesitation, she sat out that way.

         The terrain was rocky and unsteady and she had to watch her every step carefully so as not to trip and injure herself further. A noticeable draft of air was getting stronger the further she went.

         She soon discovered why.

         The cavern led to a small, snow-covered ledge inset into the steep mountain precipice.

         Somebody was lying there.

         “Gene!” She moved as fast as her bruised body would allow and knelt next to him.

         He was flat on his stomach and she carefully rolled him onto his back. Her heart fluttered noticeably when she heard him moan quietly. He was still alive.

         His environmental suit looked mostly undamaged but she knew that this didn’t mean that he was not injured. Blood was trickling out of his nose which meant something as innocent as a broken nose or something far more life threatening.

“Commander,” she said, took hold of his shoulders, and shook him gently. “Commander Edison.”

         His eyes opened slowly.

         She smiled. “You gave us quite the scare, Commander. We thought you were dead.”

         For a moment he looked as though he didn’t recognize her. The notion was quickly dispelled as familiarity set in again. “Fortunately, the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” he said and tried to move his head slightly to look around. “Where are the others?”

         “They returned to the ship. Armstrong was wounded.”

         “But you stayed behind.”

         She nodded.

         “Can’t believe Xylion liked that idea much.”

         “The important thing is that I found you. How do you feel? Do you think you can move?”

         He tried to get up but a sharp pain quickly convinced him that he wasn’t going anywhere by himself. “I don’t think so. We’ll have to call Eagle and have them beam us out of here.”

         She didn’t answer but the look on her face spoke for itself.

         “Let me guess, you misplaced your communicator again.”

         She slowly shook her head.

         “That would seem to complicate matters. Maybe if we—“ he interrupted himself when the pain returned unexpectedly but with increased intensity. It caused tears to shoot into his eyes.

         “What is it?”

         He couldn’t find the strength to speak and clenched his teeth tightly.

         “Commander, are you all right?”

         “Yes, I’m … fine,” he finally managed to say. The tone of his voice, however, seemed to indicate otherwise.

And Laas could see through the bravado. “Nonsense. You’re in pain.”

         “A bit maybe,” he said, barely audible.

         “We have to get you to sickbay.”

         “I’m open to suggestions.”

         Laas was frustrated. She knew that there was nothing she could do. Without means of communication, there was no way to contact the ship and arrange for transport. And without medical supplies, she could not treat him. She had only the most basic medical training which was going to be entirely inadequate to deal with a patient who was most likely suffering from internal injuries.

         Gene’s body twitched slightly as he experienced another jolt of pain. It was becoming unbearable and he felt a sudden desire to rest and close his eyes. He knew it would stop the pain.

Remembering some of her medical training she quickly collected as much snow as she could and pushed it down under his legs to keep them elevated. It wouldn’t stop the internal bleeding but hopefully, it was going to buy them some time.

         Gene didn’t even seem to notice and when she looked at his face, she saw that he had closed his eyes.

         “No,” she cried. “Stay awake. You must stay awake.”

         “I’m gonna close my eyes for just for a little while,“ he said so quietly, she had to lower her head to hear him.

         She took him by the shoulders again. “Listen to me. You cannot sleep. I get us out of here somehow but you have to keep awake.” Laas couldn’t remember a time she had been more frightened. She had seen many people die, many people that had been close to her and who had fought by her side against the Cardassians. But somehow, this was different. She wasn’t sure if she could bare seeing him die. She didn’t want to find out.

         “I don’t know if I can, Laas, I just don’t…“

         “Yes, yes you can do it. I know you can. Just tell me what to do and I do it. Please, just hang in there. Don’t do this to me,” she said, with tears threatening to escape her eyes. The fact that she could not wipe them away making it worse.

         He stared into her hazel eyes. Then he nodded slightly. “Talk to me,” he said.

         “What?”

         “Keep talking, tell me a story, anything.”

         “I … I don’t know any stories.”

         “If you want me to stay awake, you need to tell me a story,” he said, his eyes threatening to close once again. “And it better be a good one.”

         “Okay, wait, I know a story,” she said. “It’s a tale that I was told once. I’m not sure if I can remember it all.”

         “Just tell it.”

         “It’s about a little boy who lived in a small village in Kendra Province. No, wait. It was Lonar Province. Or was it—“

         “Laas.”

         She looked at him.

         “It’s not important, just tell the story.”

         She nodded and then continued. “He lived in a small village all his life. Then there came a day the village was plagued by a terrible disease and his mother became very sick and passed away. He was very sad but then he remembered the stories his mother had told him when he had been younger about a creature called the Dal’Rok, a massive beast able to spit fire, four stories high, with immense wings and huge razor-sharp blades on its feet.”

         “A dragon.”

         She nodded and continued. “He often sat by the fire, listening to stories the townspeople would tell about the creature and the many heroes who had been sent out to slay it but who had never returned. Legend claimed that the Dal’Rok guarded the most precious treasures in the entire land. Whoever was strong enough to defeat the beast would return as a king.

The boy didn’t care about riches. What he really wanted was to get to the Spring of Desire which was said to be deep within the Dal’Rok’s cave. And the story went that the hero who slew the monster would be allowed to drink from the crystal-clear fountain and then be granted one single wish.

The boy became obsessed with the legend. He came to believe that the Spring of Desire was the only way he would ever see his mother again. So, from that day forward, he made it his single mission in life to find the Dal’Rok, to slay it, and to drink from the spring.

The town elders tried to talk him out of what they believed to be a foolish undertaking. A myth at best, a suicide mission at worst, they tried to convince him that even if the Dal’Rok really existed, no man could ever defeat him. He was too powerful and so many others, equally dedicated warriors had lost their lives in pursuit of riches and fame.

But the boy could not be deterred. His cause was just, he told them; he was not interested in fame or wealth. All he wanted was to bring back a loved one that had been unjustly taken from him. Determined and utterly devoted he began his training as a warrior.

For many years he learned and trained. He went out to see the greatest masters and teachers to steel both his body and mind.

After eight long, hard years, the boy, now a young man, had become one of the strongest and most respected warriors in all the lands. He had aced one competition after the next and a great number of kings and warlords had become eager to hire him and pay significantly for his services. He turned them all down. Instead, he set out on his journey to find the hidden cave of the Dal’Rok.

He traveled for months, crossing oceans, climbing the highest mountains, and searching the thickest woods. Months turned into years as he endured the coldest winters and the hottest summers. Determined not to rest until he had found what he was so desperately looking for.”

         Laas paused to take a breath and to remember the ending but when she looked at Gene she realized that his eyes were closed. “Commander!”

         He didn’t react.

         She desperately took hold of his shoulders and shook to no avail. “Gene, open your eyes. Please, just open your eyes.”

*        *        *

Michael had never encountered the Borg before.

But he knew them well enough from official briefings and horrific witness testimonies. The race of cybernetic drones, half machine, half man, traveled the galaxy with the aim of assimilating other races and their technology in an endless pursuit of perfection. They had already tried to conquer Earth once and in the process had caused the most devastating loss of life and ships in Starfleet history. If there was one thing Michael understood it was that the best way to win a battle against the Borg was to avoid one.

         “The Kaldana and the Heruc are moving to intercept the sphere,” said Leva.

         DeMara shook her head. “They’re insane.”

         “Or desperate,” said Culsten.

         “Mister Leva, go to red alert. Raise shield, arm all weapons,” said Michael and sat in his chair.

         DeMara turned to face the captain. “You’re not seriously considering going up against the Borg?”

         “I’d say that we have even more at stake than our Cardassian and Romulan friends. We have two crewmembers still on that planet, not to mention a shuttle in orbit,” said Michael. “Mister Culsten, execute attack pattern omega-three.”

         “Omega-three, aye sir.”

         The two warships didn’t waste any time opening fire on the Borg sphere. They pounded the vessel with phaser fire, torpedoes, and disruptor volleys. But the Borg failed to be impressed, not even bothering to avoid the incoming fire. Instead, the ship kept its course and speed, making its way determinedly toward the sixth planet of the system.

Moments later, Eagle joined the two other starships and added its firepower to the mix, trying to inflict as much damage as possible. The Starfleet vessel’s involvement seemed to make the difference as the Borg finally changed course, acknowledging the enemy for the first time.

         This did not go unnoticed on Eagle’s bridge.

         “The Borg vessel is sending a general hail,” said Leva. “Audio only.”

         “Let’s hear it.”

         A second later a choir of voices boomed through the speakers of the bridge. “We are the Borg. You will be assimilated; your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile.”

         “I guess we have their attention now,” said DeMara.

         “They are returning fire.”

         Michael didn’t need to be told. He could see the emerald-colored energy beams being hurled toward the Kaldana. Its shields were barely withstanding the onslaught.

         “Evasive maneuvers, keep firing weapons,” said Michael and held on to the armrests of his chair.

         Culsten’s palms became sweaty as he steered the ship as fast and as erratic as the mass of Eagle allowed. It didn’t matter how much faster the Krellonian’s reaction times were compared to those of average humans, in the end, it wasn’t fast enough to avoid the innumerable energy blasts unleashed by the Borg sphere.

Leva had to put all his long experience as a tactical officer to use to inflict damage on the much bigger and more powerful vessel. His fingers raced over the weapons and defensive controls making sure that he kept up Eagle’s barrage. At the same time, he needed to worry that the shields remained stable around the ship’s most vulnerable areas like the engineering section and the warp nacelles. His frown was evidence that the battle was not going well.

         Eagle was taking a beating, and the only reason that the shields had not yet collapsed under the immense pressure of the Borg weapons was that the sphere had to deal with three different ships that all attacked using their own individual tactics. This seemed to be effective in keeping the Borg busy but it failed in causing any serious damage to their massive vessel.

         “Our shields are down to forty-three percent,” said DeMara, her voice now drained of anything but cold, hard professionalism.

         The shape of the green warbird began to dissolve and slowly disappeared from the view screen.

         Michael couldn’t believe it. The Romulans were cloaking their ship and retreating.

         “That’s right, tug in your tail and run,” said Culsten when he caught a glimpse of the ship turning invisible. He had not much time to comment on the apparent Romulan cowardice much further, however, as he had his hands full avoiding another incoming volley.

         “Mister Leva, Mister Culsten, implement attack pattern kappa-six,” said Michael. Kappa-three was a more direct tactical strategy that sacrificed certain defensive systems for a stronger offensive. Michael realized that playing it safe would be ineffective against the Borg. If they wanted to beat them, they had to give them everything they had.

         Leva and Culsten did not reply but they followed his order to the letter. Eagle turned to face the Borg sphere head-on and unleashed a volley of its weapons arsenal; deadly phaser fire, photon, and quantum torpedoes as well as a couple of tri-cobalt devices.

         “Transfer all available auxiliary power to forward shields.”

         The Borg’s answer to Eagle’s aggressive maneuver came at once. Multiple energy beams hit the forward section of the saucer, sending shockwaves through the interior of the ship.

         On the bridge, several energy conduits overloaded, showering the command center with sparks and filling it with smoke. Two crewmembers unlucky enough to have worked close to the overloaded stations were thrown to the floor.

         “The Kaldana is in trouble,” said DeMara.

         Michael noticed. The Galor-class ship had been completely engulfed by a green energy beam and was now being held firmly by the Borg ship. They were getting ready to carve up the ship like a Thanksgiving turkey.

         Michael understood that he could not allow the Cardassians to be taken out of this battle. Without them, the Borg would be able to concentrate solely on Eagle and he knew that they wouldn’t stand a chance.

         “Target the tractor beam emitter and fire quantum torpedoes. Full spread.”

         Only seconds later, six torpedoes were catapulted out of the launchers and made their way toward the sphere. A few, quick Borg energy bursts took out half of the torpedoes before they could reach their target. The other three impacted on the metallic surface of the machine ship. The energy beam that held the captive vessel fluctuated and then disappeared completely. The Cardassians didn’t hesitate to steer their ship clear of the Borg sphere.

         Eagle was once more the unlucky recipient of the Borg’s retaliation efforts. This time, the shields were not able to absorb all of the incoming fire.

         Michael was nearly thrown out of his chair by the force of the impact. He knew his ship well enough to know it had taken serious damage.

         “Hull breaches on decks four and six. Emergency force fields are in place,” said Leva. “We will not be able to withstand much more of this.”

         The Cardassians came around for another pass, firing all their weapons at the enemy to pay them back for their attempts to dissect them. The damage caused turned out to be minimal. Instead, a well-placed Borg shot ripped a gaping hole into the starboard wing of their hull, causing the ship to bleed plasma and oxygen. The ship spun out of control for a few seconds before it could compensate for the damage and stabilize again.

         Michael took a quick look at his ship’s damage report being fed through a small display in his armrest. He glanced back up at the screen and shook his head. “This is getting us nowhere,” he said, stood, and made his way to DeMara’s ops station. He held on to the back of her chair to avoid losing his balance after another hit. “Lieutenant, find us the most damaged part of the Borg ship.”

         “I’ll try but they’re in fairly good shape.”

         “Whatever looks like their weakest spot will have to do,” he said and then turned to his tactical officer. “Prepare to transfer all power we have left to weapons, everything but shields. I don’t care if it’s waste reclamation, pump it into our guns.”

         Leva responded with a curt nod and began to reconfigure the energy relays. A necessary step to ensure they wouldn’t blow out from the massive redirection of energy.

         “Open a channel to the Kaldana.”

         Michael didn’t wait for a reply. “We cannot win this way Renek. I suggest we concentrate all we have left on one single spot.”

         Michael turned to his tactical officer. One look told him that he was ready.

         “Dee?”

         The young lieutenant sighed. “This is as good as it gets.”

         “We’ll take it. Commander, target those coordinates and give’em hell.”

         Eagle slowed as the power to the impulse drive was cut in half. On the bridge, lights and even computer consoles dimmed significantly.

         Then she opened fire with everything she had.

         It was a splendid firework of destructive energy.

         The Cardassians joined in a moment later.      

         “We are definitely causing some damage,” said DeMara. “I’m reading energy fluctuation all over the Borg sphere.”

         But Leva shook his head. “We cannot keep this up for much longer. Main energy will be drained in a few seconds.”

         The Borg ceased their fire, refocusing all their efforts on repairing the damage the two ships were causing before it could lead to disaster. It was an ingenious strategy that was going to ensure that they would outlast this final desperate maneuver.

         Once their enemies were spent, the Borg would be able to blow them out of space as easily as shooting fish in a barrel.

         “Sir, the Heruc is de-clocking,” said Culsten now unable to restrain his excitement. “They’re rejoining the party.”

         “About damn time,” said Michael who watched as the warbird came swooping in like a bird of prey and unleashed its own weapons arsenal at the sphere, adding its awesome firepower to that of Eagle and the Kaldana.

         “I think that tipped the scales. I’m detecting a massive overload within the Borg ship,” said DeMara. “Something bad is happening over there.”

         Eagle stopped firing. But not by choice.

         “We’re out of weapons.”

         Small explosions erupted on the surface of the sphere. Seconds later the two other ships ceased their assault as well.

         “Lif, get us out of here, now. Put anything we’ve got left into the engines, including shields.”

         Eagle turned and accelerated away from the Borg sphere at full impulse.

The explosions continued to rip through the outer hull of the Borg vessel and then stopped suddenly. For a moment it appeared as though their collective will and efforts had managed to avoid disaster.

It was just the quiet before the storm.

Something immensely powerful at the very center of the sphere erupted.

It tore the ship apart with such force the shockwave was felt for many thousand kilometers.

In the end, nothing remained of the once deadly sphere but debris.

*        *        *

“Please, wake up,” Laas whispered.

         For the last couple of minutes, Gene had shown no signs of life whatsoever as he lay peacefully in the snow.

She had tried to shake him in the hopes that he would regain consciousness but it had been useless. She could no longer control the tears flowing down her cheeks and for one of the few times in her life, she felt completely and utterly helpless. She couldn’t even bring up the energy to talk anymore. Gene Edison was dead and there was nothing she could do to change that.

         She stared at his closed eyes for a while longer before she let herself fall on top of him. She could still feel the warmth of his body even though both their protective suits. But she couldn’t sense a heartbeat or breathing.

         Then a familiar feeling spread across her body. She got up and looked at the sky as if she could make eye contact with their saviors. Her vision blurred but she could still see that her hands were beginning to disappear along with Gene’s body. A few seconds later they had both left the surface of Tentrus VI behind.

*        *        *

Michael entered Eagle’s briefing room at the back end of deck two. Most of his senior officers were already sitting at the conference table. His first officer as well as Lieutenant Nora, Lieutenant Commander Xylion, and Doctor Wenera were noticeably absent.

         He quickly took his usual seat and immediately turned toward So’Dan Leva who was his acting first officer at present.

         “Report.”

         “The warbird and the Cardassians have retreated beyond sensor range. They took serious damage from the battle and the subsequent destruction of the Borg sphere. I don’t predict that we’ll see them again until they have concluded their repairs.”

         Michael nodded, acknowledging what the half-Romulan had said. It was not surprising that he had chosen to give him a tactical report first.

         “Commander Xylion and his team have managed to retrieve Nora and Edison from the planet. The De Gaulle is docking as we speak.”

         “What is their condition?” said chief engineer Louise Hopkins.

         “Nora is fine but it seems that Commander Edison has been severely injured. He has been transported to sickbay as soon as we were within transporter range,” said Leva, his voice betraying his obvious concern. He had been quite relieved to discover that Nora Laas, a close personal friend, was all right but Edison’s serious condition prevented him from feeling any palpable relief. “There has been no word from the doctor yet.”

         “Understood,” said Michael. He did not show it but he was concerned as well. He always was when a member of his crew was injured especially if the person in question was a valuable officer and friend. As much as he wanted to, he had no time to concern himself with the welfare of his officers at the moment, however. They were now in the care of his medical staff and there was nothing more he could do. Recent events had made clear to him beyond a shred of doubt that their mission was of the uttermost importance. The involvement of the Borg could not be understated.

         He turned to DeMara who was sitting opposite Leva. “I hear you found something in the Borg debris?”

         She nodded. “We think it’s a Borg data module. Unfortunately, we don’t know enough about Borg technology to completely decipher the information it contains.”

         “Did you get anything out of it?” said Leva.

         “Bits and pieces,” said the chief engineer who was seated next to DeMara. “We believe we found what could be the coordinates for a planet twelve light years from our position. Off course it could also be total gibberish.”

         Leva turned to the captain. “They might have visited that world.”

         “Or were planning to,” he said. “Do we know anything about this planet?”

         “We do actually,” said DeMara. “Deleana IV.”

         “Sounds familiar,” said Michael, leaning back in his chair.

         She nodded. “It’s on the outermost rim of Federation space but it does have an outpost. The surface is almost entirely covered by oceans and the outer crust contains large deposits of valuable ore. The Federation established a mining station on the planet about three years ago.”

         “Yes, I remember reading about it,” said Michael. “If I’m not mistaken, there is a small fleet of maritime vessels operating on the planet. They also have a spaceport on the surface and a few underwater settlements.”

         DeMara shot him a surprised look at his detailed knowledge of such a remote world.

         “What could the Borg possibly want there?” said Leva.

         “I don’t know,” said Michael. “But I intend to find out.” He turned to DeMara and Lou Hopkins. “I want you to keep working on that Borg device. See what other information you can dig up. Give top priority to any information related to their fleet activities. If there’re any more Borg ships in the area, I want to know about it.”

         They both gave him a short nod.

         “As soon as the shuttle is secured, we’ll head for Deleana IV,” said Michael and looked at his temporary first officer. “But have Mister Culsten set an indirect course this time. I want to avoid leading anybody else to the possible location of the Hyterian artifact.”

         “Yes, sir.”

         Michael stood, signifying the end of the meeting and the others quickly followed suit.

*        *        *

Gene Edison didn’t look as if he had come within a hair’s length of meeting his maker, Laas thought, as she considered him peacefully slumbering on a bed in sickbay.

         Although he was well on his way to a full recovery, according to Doctor Wenera, she couldn’t help but entirely dispel that sense of trepidation she felt that had never really left her since she had first come across his broken body in the snow.

         The doctor had done miracles, that was for certain, having spent nearly two hours in a surgical bay with a team of medical professionals to heal and stabilize their patient.

         Laas hadn’t been able to leave his side since he had come out of surgery, still filled with the irrational fear that if she left him now, she may never see him draw another breath again.

         That fear never quite left her until he finally opened his eyes again in what had felt like an eternity.        

         “How do you feel?”

         “Like I fell off a cliff and never hit the ground,” he said, his voice still raspy.

         She offered him a glass of water and helped him sit up on the bed before he greedily took a large sip.

         “Close enough. Wenera said that you were technically dead for a couple of minutes. Had we been rescued just a little later—” she cut herself off, not wanting to even entertain that thought.

         “I guess that means that she’ll want to keep me here for a while,” he said and tried to break the somber mood with a smile.

         “You can consider yourself lucky if she’ll ever let you leave at all,” she said, her lips mirroring the gesture.

         For a moment there was silence.

         “Gene, there is something I have to tell you,” she said, suddenly sounding much less self-assured.

         He gave her an expectant look.

         “I think I—“ the words got stuck in her throat.

         The doors to sickbay opened and Captain Owens entered. He quickly found who he was looking for and approached the bed his first officer was occupying.

         Laas noticed him right away and quickly took a small step away from Edison. “Captain.”

         “Lieutenant, how’s he doing?” he asked while stepping up to the bed.

         “He’s stable for now but still weak,” she said, her eyes remaining focused on the first officer.

         “You gave us quite the scare, Commander,” he said.

         “You don’t need to worry about me, sir How’s Eagle? What of the mission?”

         Michael smiled. Edison was not interested in talking about what had happened to him or his condition. All he wanted was to be filled in on what he had missed. “We had a little run-in with the Borg.”

         “The Borg.” Edison instinctively tried to get up but Laas stopped him short by pushing her hand gently against his chest.

         “You’re not going anywhere.”

         Edison shot her a glare.

         Michael couldn’t help but smirk. “Looks like security has got you pinned for the time being,” he said. “But Nora is right, we’ve got things under control and you need to get your strength back before returning to duty.”

         “Sir,” said Edison and then gave the Bajoran officer such a hard stare that she removed her hand voluntarily. “If you’re facing the Borg, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

         “The Borg vessel has been destroyed and we’ve been able to determine that no other ships are in the immediate vicinity. Besides, you wouldn’t be any good to us in your present condition. You’d just slow us down.”

         Edison was about to reply but Michael cut him off. “Gene, don’t make me restrict you to sickbay. For the time being, the doctor is your boss, understood?”

         The commander nodded reluctantly and then relaxed on the bed. “If I thought it made any difference, I’d point to when our roles were reversed, and you refused to let a little injury slow you down,” he said with a little twinkle in his eyes.

         “Don’t even try it,” Michael said with a frown. “That was different. Besides, rank hath its privileges, I’m sure you’ve heard that one before.”

         “Once or twice,” he said and then grew more serious, apparently having accepted being sidelined for the time being. “Have we made any progress on the whereabouts of the artifact?”

         “We picked up some data from the remains of the Borg vessel we hope is relevant. A planet called Deleana IV is our best bet for the moment. The whole surface consists of one massive ocean. I can’t wait to see it for myself.”

         “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind sitting that one out,” said Edison with a smirk. “I’ve had enough diving this week to last me a lifetime.”

         Laas couldn’t hide a smile of her own, recalling being stuck inside the flooded asteroid with Gene a day earlier.

         Doctor Wenera stepped out of her office adjacent to the ward. “Captain, could I have a word with you, please?”

         “Certainly,” he said and then turned to Edison. “You just stay here and get better quickly. And don’t get too comfortable, we’ll need you back eventually.”

         Edison nodded and Michael left to follow the doctor into her office.

         Laas watched as the captain and Wenera disappeared and then looked back at Edison. His face was still pale and his eyes bloodshot.

         “I should let you rest now.”

         Edison nodded softly. “I am a bit tired.”

         She smiled. She was pretty sure that that was an understatement.

         “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

         “It can wait.”

         “I will,” he said. “Thank you, Laas.”

         “For what?”

         “For coming back for me, for staying at my side, for talking to me, for whatever you did to keep me alive down there. I wouldn’t have made it without you.”

         Laas couldn’t find the right words to reply.

         “Now get out of here and let me get some sleep already,” he said. “But I expect to see you first thing in the morning.”

         She nodded. “You bet.” She turned and headed for the exit.

“By the way,” said Edison.

         She stopped and turned. “Yes?”

         “What happened to him?”

         “What happened to whom?”

         “The boy in the story. Did he ever find the Spring of Desire?”

         Another smile cracked her lips. She had all but forgotten about the tale she had told him while they had been on the surface of the planet. She was glad that he had remembered. “After looking for years and years he found the cave the Dal’Rok lived in.”

         He rose from the bed a bit. “And?”

         “The beast tore him apart limp from limp.”

         “What?”

         “No one ever gets to the Spring of Desire. No matter how much you want it or how well you train, it’s not something within any mortal’s grasp. There is no such thing as a free wish.”

         “That’s a hell of a story to tell to a dying man.”

         She shrugged. “I told you. I’m not good at telling stories.”

*        *        *

Doctor Wenera stepped behind her desk while Michael stopped just about a few feet after passing the threshold to her office.

         “So, how long do you think until I can have my first officer back?”

         “Three to four days, maybe sooner depending on how well his body responds to the surgery.”

         Michael sighed. He didn’t like the idea of not having his first officer by his side for this mission but he was not willing to sacrifice his health either.

         “What about Lieutenant Armstrong? I heard he had been shot.”

         She nodded. “He’s fine. I treated him for a phaser wound and released him to his quarters. Aside from a headache, he should be fine in the morning. I also prescribed a couple of sessions with Trenira in case he develops any symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder but he seemed in pretty decent shape, considering what he’s been through lately.”

         “Good.”

         “There’s another matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

         He gave her a puzzled look.

         She sat behind her desk. “I’m still not convinced that you should’ve left sickbay so quickly.”

         “We’ve been over that,” he said and took a step forward.

         “No, you have. We haven’t.”

         “I’m fine, Doctor. There is no need to worry.”

         She leaned back in her chair, her probing eyes appraising him carefully. “You might be able to fool the rest of your crew but I am a doctor, Captain. I can tell when people are not fine.”

         He sighed. She was right, of course. And under different circumstances maybe he would have listened to her recommendations. He wanted some sort of treatment, making those dreams and hallucinations go away so he could focus on his mission. But at the moment he simply had no time for this. If he was to allow the doctors and psychoanalysts free reign now there was no telling what they’ll do to him. And he needed to be on the bridge, now with Edison temporarily out of the picture, more than ever.

         “Doctor, we are dealing with an object here that could for all we know be able to destroy entire solar systems. The Borg are looking for it. Can you imagine what they might be capable of with technology like this? Wolf 359 will look like a donnybrook compared to the kind of destruction they’d be able to cause once they have access to this artifact.

To put it simply, I do not have the luxury of going through lengthy medical examinations right now. We have to ensure that we get there first, no matter the personal inconveniences this may cause us.”

         “There are other ships.”

         “Not out here they’re not. It would take the nearest Starfleet vessel days to meet us. And it would take them even more time to catch up on what we have already learned. We’re already behind our competitors. We cannot afford to lose any more time.”

         She frowned, clearly not convinced. She was a doctor and all she cared about was the well-being of the crew she was responsible for. She did not consider matters of political or strategic importance. She could not allow herself to do that.

         “I promise you, doctor, once we’re done with this, I will make myself available for as many tests and treatments you can think of,” he said. “Until then, I ask that you let me do my job. A great number of lives might depend on it,” he said and then, considering the matter closed, left her office.

         “I just hope it won’t be too late.”