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

Chapter Text

Eagle shot into the Deleana star system like a bullet. And as if it had struck its target, the saucer-shaped vessel decelerated from its incredible speed to sub-light within a fraction of a second. The ship’s bow slightly adjusted its heading to approach the fourth planet, a silver and blue world covered predominately by oceans.

         Leva had established communications with Deleana IV even before the ship had entered the system. On the bridge, Michael was talking to Commodore Aldous McLaughlin, the highest-ranking representative of the United Federation of Planets on the planet, over the view screen.

 McLaughlin, a man not much older than Michael, wore a full beard complete with sideburns and as red as the hair on his head. The commodore was surprised by the unannounced visit but not displeased. On the contrary, McLaughlin seemed to enjoy the occasion, making it obvious that he did not get many visitors on a world as remote as Deleana IV.

         “Once again Captain, you’re more than welcome to visit my ship and I will personally show you around on Deleana IV. I’m just afraid there isn’t much to see down here. Except for water. A whole lot of it,” he said with a smirk.

         “I happen to be a great admirer of the sea,” said Michael, sitting in his chair. “I’d love to have a look at your one.”

         “In that case, you won’t be disappointed. It’s the biggest you’ve ever seen,” said McLaughlin but then paused. His expression became more serious. “But I have to admit that I have trouble believing that this is purely a social visit.”

         Michael nodded, acknowledging the fact that McLaughlin, even though stationed at one of the farthest edges of the galaxy, was no fool. “I’m afraid you’re right. But I’d be more comfortable briefing you in person.”

         “I’ll see you on the Poseidon then. You’ll have the coordinates by the time you get into orbit.”

         “Thank you, Commodore. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

         McLaughlin gave him a short nod and the channel closed. McLaughlin’s face disappeared and was replaced by the steadily growing shape of Deleana IV.

         Michael stood from his chair and turned to his tactical officer. “Have the away team meet me in transporter room two.”

         Leva acknowledged.

         DeMara had left her station as well and practically blocked his way to the turbo-lift. “You do understand, of course, that according to regulations you’re not supposed to join away missions, don’t you?”

         Michael considered her for a moment before his eyes found the ocean planet on the viewscreen again. There was no chance he was going to miss out on going down there, he had decided. “It’s a nice, friendly planet. There’s a Federation presence. What could possibly endanger my safety?” he said with a playful smile.

         She shook her head. “You’re just asking for it.”

         He easily side-stepped her and headed for the lift. “Are you coming?”

         She uttered a sigh, perhaps realizing the futility of her argument, and then followed him.

*        *        *

Ever since Eagle had set course for the ocean planet there had been a sparkle in Michael’s eyes that DeMara had not been able to explain. As they both stood in the turbolift, waiting for the fast-moving car to deliver them to their destination, she was still trying to figure it out.

         The penetrating look did not go unnoticed and he turned to face her. “What is it?”

         “There’s something about you and this planet.”

         Michael shrugged and then faced forward again.

         The lift came to a stop and the doors opened. The captain walked out.

         “Oh, come on,” she said, unable to hide her growing frustration. She left the lift and quickly caught up with him. “We’ve known each other for twelve years and I’ve never seen you quite so…“ she paused, trying to think of the right words. “Can I say excited?”

         Michael stopped in the middle of the corridor. Two crewmembers startled by his abrupt motion gave him a surprised look but walked on to tend to their duties.

         “Did I ever tell you about what I really wanted to do? Instead of joining Starfleet, I mean,” he said while looking into the empty corridor in front of him.

         “Now that’s a revelation,” she said. “Captain Michael Timothy Owens. The epitome of the career officer, the very model of what it means to live and breathe the Starfleet way. The great defender of Federation values and morality did not set out to be a starship captain.”

“Well, I’m certainly pleased that I still manage to surprise you even after all this time,” he said with mock annoyance evident in his tone. “When I was younger, I wanted to explore the seas. I’ve always taken more after my mother who was an oceanographer and often take my brother and me along on her expeditions. Both Matthew and I were eager to follow her footsteps when we were children.”

         “What happened?”

         Michael seemed to be somewhere else at that moment. It took him a couple of seconds to react to the question. “Earth’s oceans have all been explored a long time ago. There aren’t many unexplored seas left in the galaxy,” he answered, fully aware that it was only a half-truth. He then turned to look at her. There was a smile on his lips again. “I do not regret the decisions I made, Dee. Exploring the galaxy is much more rewarding than anything else I’ve ever done. Especially when I get opportunities like this,” he said. “Come on, let’s not keep the commodore waiting.”

*        *        *

A minute later both of them entered transporter room two. All the members of the away team were already assembled, including Lieutenant Toby Armstrong who appeared to have recovered well from the injury he had sustained on the previous away mission.

Commander Xylion approached the captain as soon as he had set foot into the transporter room. “Sir, as acting Eagle XO it is my duty to point out that regulations demand that you remain on the ship.”

DeMara shook her head, knowing what was coming.

“Been there, done that,” said Michael.

The Vulcan raised one of his eyebrows. “It would not be prudent for the two most senior officers on duty to take part in the same away mission,” he continued as if trying to find some other manner with which to sway his captain.

“You’re saying you want to stay behind?” Michael said with a little smirk.

It was perfectly obvious that this was, in fact, not at all what he had meant. “I believe my presence would be mission critical.”

“I agree,” he said. “And so is mine, so let’s not waste any more time, and let’s get going. Captain’s orders.”

And that sealed the argument.

         “Oh, before I forget,” said DeMara who hadn’t been sure if she was supposed to be amused or concerned about their little disagreement. “Mister Spooner asked me earlier if there was any chance that he could join the away team again.”

         Nora immediately stepped up to the captain, “Absolutely not.”

         Michael, DeMara, and even Xylion turned to give the Bajoran security chief surprised looks. This was, of course, hardly her decision to make. From the tone of her voice, one may have thought otherwise.

         Michael couldn’t help but smile. Nora’s feelings toward their guest were no mystery. But considering what they had found out about Spooner, he tended to agree with his chief of security. “Not this time. I think I’d be much more comfortable if he stays put for now.”

         Nora nodded with satisfaction. No doubt thinking that it was about time somebody listened to her advice.

         The five officers took their positions on the transporter platform.

         “Chief, whenever you’re ready,” said Michael.

         Chief Petty Officer Yang-Sen Chow nodded shortly and then operated the console. Within seconds the Starfleet officers were engulfed in shimmering blue light and then vanished just to reappear in the same manner but in a different room hundreds of kilometers from where they had departed.

         Michael found a young female officer awaiting them after they had fully rematerialized. She wore a blue two-piece tunic, much more reminiscent of old naval uniforms than the modern Starfleet outfits.

“Permission to come aboard,” he said.

The junior crewmember nodded quickly as if a bit uncomfortable to be asked by a superior officer. “Granted, sir.”

Michael stepped off the transporter platform and his officers followed suit.

“I’m Lieutenant McPhee and I’m delighted to welcome you and your officers to Deleana IV and aboard Poseidon,” she said.

“Not as delighted as he is,” said DeMara under her breath.

The statement confused McPhee slightly but she quickly moved on. “I’m afraid that the senior officers are held up at the moment. I understand that we’re facing an emergency.”

Michael was immediately intrigued. “What kind of emergency?”

“I have not been made aware of the details yet, sir. But if you like I’ll show you to the briefing room. You can wait there until the present situation is resolved.”

Nora noticed the large porthole in the transporter room and approached it to find an endless silver and blue ocean beyond it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on a boat before,” she said more to herself than to anyone else in the room.

“A submersible to be precise,” said Xylion.

She turned abruptly to face him and then glanced at Michael. The captain nodded.

“You’re saying that this thing is actually going to dive into the ocean?” she said, the tone in her voice a bit more shaky than she had wished. “With us inside?”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of going underwater?” said DeMara with devilish amusement twinkling in her bright purple eyes. “You serve on a starship where you are constantly surrounded by the vacuum of space.”

“Of course not,” she said quickly and then turned back to the window.

DeMara stepped next to her. “Just think of the ocean as outer space. Except a lot wetter and with much more pressure bearing down on you.”

Nora offered her a scowl. “You really know how to put a person at ease.”

Michael redirected his attention to the naval officer. “To be honest, Lieutenant, I’d much rather see the command center.”

“Maybe something can be arranged. If you would just follow me I—”

The heavy doors of the transporter room opened before she could finish her sentence and a dark-haired man entered the room. He was of medium height but he carried himself with great confidence. Judging from the rank insignia on the sleeves of his uniform jacket, he was a senior officer.

“Captain Owens,” he said addressing Eagle’s captain right away. “I’m Commander Rico, first officer of the Poseidon. Welcome aboard,” he said and it didn’t escape Michael that he sounded somewhat aloof. Certainly not as inviting as McPhee.

“Thank you, Commander. Meet my officers–”

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for introductions. We have a situation developing and I need to return to the conn.”

“I completely understand. And if at all possible, I would love to get a chance to see it myself,” said Michael. “Only if it isn’t too much trouble of course,” he added.

Rico didn’t exactly appear happy about the request, making little effort to hide his displeasure.

 “Very well,” he said. “You and one of your officers may accompany me to the conn. Lieutenant McPhee will escort your remaining officers to the briefing room where they may wait until the current situation has been resolved.”

“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate this,” he said and turned to DeMara, “Lieutenant.”

She gave Nora who was still preoccupied with the sight of the ocean outside the porthole a pat on her shoulder, mouthing the word ‘outer space’ before she joined the captain and Rico.

Michael turned to Xylion. “I’ll meet you and the others in the briefing room.”

The Vulcan nodded dutifully and then the captain and DeMara followed Rico out of the transporter room.

The most obvious feature of the Poseidon was the fact that she seemed much sturdier built than most starships. Doors and bulkheads were thicker and heavier. The floors were covered with metal grates and pipes intersected the hallway at various junctions forcing them to duck to avoid bumping their heads. Rico walked ahead with a steady pace, practically ignoring the fact that he had company.

“Not the most charming fellow,” whispered DeMara, making sure she was not overheard

He nodded. “I guess they don’t get many visitors out here.”

They took a tight and winding staircase upward and reached the conn. The room was filled with computer stations and personnel. It differed greatly from Eagle’s bridge. Like most of the rest of the ship, it was much more compact which was also because the submarine was less than half the size of a Nebula-class cruiser. Yet Michael was immediately fascinated with what he saw.

The most noticeable feature of the control center was the windshield-like window at the front that reached all the way from the floor to the ceiling. The window also seemed to function as a computer screen; numerous small displays were projected on the translucent screen, displaying various pieces of information.

Michael’s attention quickly focused on the part of the conn that was most familiar to him. The center seat.

The chair turned toward him and revealed a bearded officer. The man stood and approached the two visitors. He was a bit taller than his first officer and radiated a warmth that was lacking in his subordinate. He offered smiles and handshakes.

“Welcome aboard Poseidon, Captain.”

Michael returned his smile and shook his hand. “Commodore McLaughlin, I presume.”

The man nodded.

“Thank you for inviting us, Commodore. It’s a pleasure being here. This is my operations officer, Lieutenant DeMara Deen,” said Michael and gestured at his company.

McLaughlin, of course, had already noticed her the moment she had stepped onto the deck. But now McLaughlin’s face lit up. He was too much of a professional to stare but he gave her an even warmer smile. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant.”

She smiled back and gave him a short nod.

         Commander Rico cleared his throat and quickly gained his superior's attention.

         McLaughlin uttered a short laugh and then faced Michael. “You must excuse Commander Rico, Captain. He is not the sort of man who wastes much time on pleasantries.”

         Rico frowned, not pleased at being talked to as if he wasn’t present.

         “But then again, he is entirely correct in reminding me that there is an urgent task at hand. You’re welcome to stay if you like.”

         Michael didn’t need to think about the offer. “If we’re not in the way, absolutely.”

         “Great,” McLaughlin said with a smile. “I will fill you in as we go along and naturally, I’m quite curious to find out what brings you all the way out here,” he said then returned to his chair. His first officer followed him while Michael and DeMara stayed at the back part of the control room near a sturdy-looking railing.

Michael could not complain. The view was extraordinary. The back part of the conn was slightly raised and he had an unobstructed view of the large wrap-around viewscreen. At the moment all he could see was the endless shimmering ocean.

         “Helm, adjust our heading to zero four six, full speed,” said Rico with military authority.

         “Zero four six, ahead full,” confirmed the helmsman from his station.

         McLaughlin sat down in his chair. “Estimated time to target?”

         Rico quickly checked a computer console. “Eight minutes, thirty-four seconds.”

         The commodore turned in his chair to glance at his guests. “If you like submersibles, you’re going to like this,” he said smiling. “Better hold on to something.”

         Michael knew what was coming. Both he and DeMara grasped the railing.

         “Take her down, Commander.”

         “Aye, aye, sir,” said the first officer. He pressed several controls causing the lights to be dimmed; blue warning signals began to flash. “All hands, all stations prepare to dive. I say again, prepare to dive.”

         “This is going to be fun,” said Michael with almost childish glee.

         “Not for Laas.”

         “Secured for diving,” said one of the bridge officers.

         “Helm, fifteen degrees. Make your depth three thousand five hundred, dive, dive, dive,” said Rico.

         Michael could feel the ship lurching forward and it took him a second to get used to it. But what he saw and what he felt did not correspond. The ship had quickly and quietly dipped into the huge silver ocean at a steep angle yet he didn’t feel much more than a slight bump. Within moments the entire ship was engulfed by the sea and shot downward.

Even though the ocean had appeared almost silver from the surface, it was remarkably clear underwater with just the barest hints of blue. This ocean looked nothing like what he had seen before. The light consistency of the water allowed much faster travel and also made it much easier to see through it and into the distance.

A read-out on the main screen indicated the submarine’s depth. After only half a minute, they had descended six hundred feet. Except for a slight swaying every now and then, there was almost no indication of their rapid descent.

         He let go of the railing and a few seconds later DeMara followed suit. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” she said after she had made sure that it was safe to stand.

          “They use artificial gravity plating similar to what we use on starships. They compensate for the ship’s movements.”

         Michael could see several fish and fish-like animals in the ocean, most of them swimming in huge swarms consisting of various colors. The Poseidon was moving too fast to make out any specifics.

         After a few more minutes, the submarine had reached the set depth and leveled out.

         “Destination depth achieved. Four minutes and thirty-eight seconds to target,” said Rico.

         McLaughlin nodded and then turned his chair once again to face Owens. “How do you like it so far?”

         “It’s quite something,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed.

         “I’m glad you enjoy it. Believe me, you’re going to see much more soon enough. We’re on our way to answer a distress signal from an ore freighter in the region.”

         “Do you have any idea what the nature of their distress is?” said DeMara.

         “A pretty good one, actually. We’ve had some problems with the Ferengi for a while now. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were behind this.”

         Michael and DeMara exchanged surprised glances. This was not exactly a place either one of them would have expected to find the Ferengi, the most notorious merchants and profit seekers in the known galaxy.

         “From your reaction, I take it that they are not the reason you’re here,” said McLaughlin with a slight hint of disappointment in his voice.

         “I’m not sure, Commodore.”

         “Sir, we are being hailed,” said the first officer.

         “Put it on, Commander.”

         The speakers on the conn crackled for a second. “This is the freighter Tulsa. We are under attack by a pirate vessel and need immediate assistance,” the voice of the person was desperate and the noise and interference in the transmission were enough indications that the Tulsa was taking a serious beating.

         McLaughlin got to his feet. “Increase to emergency flank.”

         “Aye sir, increasing speed to emergency flank,” said the helmsman.

         “All hands to battle stations,” the first officer said.

         Alarm klaxons began howling all across the ship.

         “Torpedo systems loaded and ready to fire,” said the weapon’s officer from her station.

         “We’re approaching the target, sensors are reading the Tulsa and an unidentified vessel in retreat,” the first officer said from the sensor station.

         “We’re too late,” said McLaughlin under his breath. “What’s the Tulsa’s status?”

         “She’s suffered heavy damage, her primary hull has been breached and she’s taking in water. At this depth, she’s not going to last long,” said the first officer and then turned to his superior. “They’re requesting emergency assistance.”

         Michael knew all too well how McLaughlin felt. After all, he had been in the exact same position just a few days earlier. Not many things were more frustrating to a commanding officer than to let somebody escape who was sure to attack other vessels again.

         “Stand down from battle stations, prepare to dock with the Tulsa,” said McLaughlin and sat back down in his chair.

         “Aye sir, standing down,” said Rico.

         The alarm lights and klaxons shut off as Poseidon slowed down.

         Michael left the railing and approached the captain of the submarine. “I’m sorry, Commodore.”

         McLaughlin turned. “This has been going on for months now. Pirate vessels attack freighters, steal their cargo, and then disappear before we can stop them.”

         DeMara joined them. “You mentioned earlier that it was the Ferengi that are the cause for your troubles. Are these pirates Ferengi?”

         McLaughlin shook his head. “Not quite. But we’re pretty sure they’re the ones behind it.”

 “They hire the lowest scum they can find for the sole purpose of harassing these freighters. What we need to do is get to the pirate base and put a stop to this once and for all,” said Rico.

         “The problem is that we don’t have definite proof who exactly engages in pirate activities and who doesn’t. Everybody seems to cover for everybody else,” said the Commodore.

         It was obvious that Rico didn’t much care for that answer. It seemed this was not the first time they’d had this discussion. He uttered a frustrated sigh and then returned to his duties.

         McLaughlin stood up. “If it was up to Mister Rico, we’d probably end up arresting half the population of Pacifica City.”

         Michael offered a quizzical look.

         “Pacifica is one of the less desirable settlements on Deleana. We believe it to be the launching pad for most pirate activity. Anyway, there isn’t much more we can do here. What do you say we talk about your visit? I have full confidence in Rico and my crew to be able to handle the Tulsa in the meantime. I’m looking forward to meeting the rest of your team.”

         Michael nodded.

         McLaughlin turned to his first officer. “Commander, please oversee the docking and assistance to the freighter. Give me a full report when you’re done.”

         Rico acknowledged and McLaughlin and the two Starfleet officers left the conn.

*        *        *

Shortly after leaving the bridge, McLaughlin led Michael and DeMara into the ship’s briefing room where the rest of Eagle’s away team was already waiting.

         DeMara sat down next to Nora who appeared slightly paler than usual. “How are you feeling?”

         She considered the other woman briefly before her glance wandered over to another porthole. “Just fine.”

         Michael sat and quickly introduced all his officers to McLaughlin who had taken the chair at the head of the table, seemingly genuinely pleased about meeting Eagle’s away team.

         “So, Captain, I’m burning with anticipation. What brings you to the far end of the galaxy?”

         “It’s a long story. We’ve been on a routine cartography mission less than a light-year from here when we stumbled across the remains of a long-dead civilization. We believe that they hid an object so powerful that numerous significant powers have shown remarkable interest in acquiring it.”

         “You certainly have my attention,” said McLaughlin.

         “Let me ask you this first,” said Michael. “Have you had any form of contact with the Borg?”

         McLaughlin’s eyes opened wide. His reaction was not surprising and it told Michael what he wanted to know.

         “The Borg? By heavens, no.” He needed a second to compose himself. “You honestly think they’re after whatever you’re looking for?”

          “We know for a fact that the Borg are after this artifact,” said DeMara. “We had the pleasure of encountering them.”

         “You mean to say that the Borg are in the region?” said McLaughlin, clearly well aware of the threat the cybernetic race could pose to a colony, especially one as poorly fortified as his.

         “Were,” said Michael.

         “We have found no evidence of additional Borg activity in this sector. We are presently operating under the assumption that the vessel we destroyed was the only Borg ship looking for the artifact,” said Xylion, exuding soothing calm.

          “Well, I’m certainly relieved to hear that. And you believe they were trying to uncover something here on Deleana IV?”

         “That’s what we are trying to find out,” said Michael.

         McLaughlin considered this for a moment. “I can’t think of anything on this world that would point to a previous settlement but then, of course, this planet has not been completely surveyed. The people who come here are primarily interested in mining ore.”

         “To be perfectly honest, Deleana IV is a long shot. The data we found was mostly inconclusive,” said DeMara.

         “But it is the only lead we have at the moment,” Armstrong said.

         Something outside the window caught Michael’s attention. It wasn’t much more than a flash of light and it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

         “I wouldn’t even know where to start looking,” said McLaughlin. “This is a big planet and we haven’t even explored a third of it.”

         “I assume initial surveys were conducted before the planet was populated?” said Xylion.

         The commodore nodded. “Of course. Trust me, if they had shown signs of previous colonization efforts, I would know about it.”

         “That is strange,” said Armstrong. “An initial survey should have shown some hint of a Hyterian presence here. None of their colonies were particularly difficult to find once we knew where to look.”

         “Nothing is hard to find when you know where to look, Lieutenant,” said Nora. “Which means we may be looking in the wrong place.”

         There was another flash of light just outside the porthole. This time it was bright enough to blind him for a moment. And then he felt something he did not expect.

An unseen force grabbed his body and pulled him away from his chair as if he was weightless. He tried to hold on to the table but it was no use, he had suddenly turned completely intangible. Or at least that’s how he felt as he passed right through the table. The others in the room were oblivious to what was happening right in front of their very eyes and continued their conversation as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

All resistance was pointless, as Michael was dragged right toward the porthold. The pull became even stronger as he approached the glass. He stretched out his hands to hold on to the bulkhead but like a ghost, he phased right through the hull of the submersible. He felt like screaming but his instincts told him to hold his breath instead.

Within seconds he was outside the vessel and deep within the ocean. He neither felt pressure nor the moisture of the water as he was dragged faster and deeper into the sea. He shot past underwater cliffs and reefs deep below. He lost all sense of orientation; all he could think about was to hold his breath.

And then he slowed down.

He could hear voices. Just whispers at first but they became louder and clearer the closer he got to wherever he was going.

He had been pulled all the way down to the ocean floor where he found a stunning variety of life and color. The ground was covered with a surreal-looking green, yellow, and red meadow, swaying with the movement of the sea. There were plants of almost every size and hue. There were fish he had never seen before and numerous crawling animals.

 He crossed the underwater landscape unbothered and seemingly unnoticed by the indigenous animal life.

In the distance, he could see what looked like a monolith, a massive rock that seemed to reach hundreds of meters upward. It was the first sign of a large rock formation that stretched out as far as he could see.

It was then that he realized that he had opened his mouth and that he was breathing air without trouble.

But he had little time to wonder how that could be.

Instead, he was focusing on the voices that were now so clear he recognized the language. He still couldn’t understand.

He was pulled toward something that looked like a cave entrance. As he came closer, he could see that it was an artificially created portal. There were familiar inscriptions and signs all around the massive arch. Familiar and yet still unknown. He could not see what lay inside the cave. It was completely dark. He accelerated again as he entered into the cavern. The darkness remained as he shot into the unknown. And then he stopped.

For the first time since this strange journey had begun, he could feel solid ground under his feet. Slowly and carefully, he took a step forward. Then another until the darkness gave way and he could actually spot the exit of the cave

He was no longer surrounded by water. His clothes were completely dry and there was not a single sign of his trip across the ocean.

He exited the cave and found himself on a wide-open platform. Below him sat a city. He recognized the architecture immediately.

It was Hyterian. He had seen it before but that wasn’t what caused him to gasp. The city was alive. Creatures and vehicles were traveling the streets and going about their business.

The city itself was not as big as the ruins on Hyteria had been but it was still impressive. Like nothing he had ever laid eyes upon before.

His gaze wandered upward to see a massive glass dome protecting the city from the ocean above. The sunlight shined through it and the glass-like material intensified it, easily illuminating the entire city as if it were just another regular settlement on the surface.

There was a central building that stood out among all the others. Not just because of its position but also due to its size and design.

It seemed almost identical to the temple in the Hyterian capital. The building stood in the middle of a large square. And in front of the building stood a single creature.

It looked straight at him and spoke.

Even though Michael was standing at least a few hundred meters away, he could easily hear her calm voice. It was clearer than all the other voices around him as if it was being projected right into his mind.

While the creature spoke a column of light shot out from the center of the building. The voice of the creature became noticeably rueful while the light became brighter. The voices all around him became more and more disorganized, chaotic even. The people in the streets began to panic.

The column began to radiate so brightly that Michael had to close his eyes. There were screams and cries but the one voice remained constant. It took on volume and began to boom in his head.

The intensity drove him to his knees.

When he opened his eyes once more the city was burning.

The creature seemed to take no notice of this.

A shockwave of bright white light gripped the city and threw Michael to the ground. The voice was gone and nothing but darkness remained.

For a moment he could still hear faint cries but they too faded away until there was nothing left. He felt something reaching for his arm. He looked down and saw a hand touching him. He looked up and saw DeMara’s face.

         “Are you all right?”

         He looked around. He was sitting in Poseidon’s conference room and everyone was staring at him. He felt a few sweat pearls running down his forehead and he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

         “What … what happened?” he said.

         “We were just talking when you suddenly fell into some sort of trance for a few seconds,” said McLaughlin and stood up.

         “A few seconds?” he said to himself. He looked toward the window but there was nothing unusual there.

         “I better call our doctor,” said McLaughlin as he walked over to the intercom system.

         “No,” said Michael quickly. “No, I’ll be all right.”

         McLaughlin stopped and looked at him skeptically. “Are you sure?”

         Michael nodded and managed a smile. “Yes. It’s nothing. Dinner last night probably didn’t agree with me.”

         He looked at DeMara and it wasn’t hard to tell that she was not buying this story.

         “I’m fine,” he reassured her.

         She was still not won over but decided to let it go for now.

         McLaughlin sat back down in his chair.

         Michael took a deep breath. “We have come to the right place,” he said with a conviction in his voice that wasn’t missed by the others.

         His officers looked at him with a mixture of confusion and skepticism but he chose to ignore them all. Instead, he faced McLaughlin but the commodore had no words to offer.

         “You mentioned that the Ferengi have started to give you some trouble. Do you know why?”

          “I wish we knew. They came here about a year ago to profit from the rich ore deposits like everyone else. At first, there was nothing strange about that. But very recently they started to hire more and more workers for their mining efforts and buying out many of the local outfits. Those they can’t get to, they rob through pirates. We don’t have any definite proof that they are behind it.”

         “Do you believe the Ferengi intend to establish a mining monopoly?” said Xylion.

         “If that’s not what they’re up to then I don’t know what it is.”

         “No,” said Michael to himself, massaging his temples. “It’s got to be something else.”

         McLaughlin offered him a quizzical look.

         “Do you know where the Ferengi are focusing their mining efforts?” said Michael.

         He shook his head. “No, they go to some lengths to keep their main sites a secret. We believe that they are concentrating their efforts somewhere in the Greater Horseshoe basin but that is a huge area to cover.”

         “The Ferengi might have found something,” said Armstrong with renewed excitement. “If they did find clues to the Hyterians on this planet, the last thing they’d want was to advertise this to the general public.”

         DeMara nodded. “And they harass other ships to make sure nobody else gets their hands on Hyterian secret before they do.”

         “We should refrain from making premature conclusions,” said Xylion.

         “Agreed,” said Michael. “But it’s worth investigating.” He faced McLaughlin.

         “If what you say about this artifact is true, I will help you any way I can but I don’t even know where to start looking for their mines. Even with every vessel I have available, it’d take us over a month to scour the entire Greater Horseshoe basin.”

         “How about Pacifica City?” said DeMara. “Those pirates are bound to know more about what the Ferengi are up to.”

         McLaughlin nodded reluctantly. “I can take you there but I’ll tell you right now, we’re not going to be welcome.”

         Michael stood. “That wouldn’t be the first time.”

         “Very well,” said the commodore, stood as well, and walked over to the intercom. He activated it and connected to his first officer.

         Nora walked over to Michael. “Sir, are you planning to enter this city yourself?”

         He nodded.

         “I must strongly discourage you from that idea. From what I’ve heard it is not the friendliest place. Your safety would be greatly compromised.”

         He smiled. “I guess that means you’re going to have your hands full, Lieutenant.”

         McLaughlin turned to the starship captain. “We will depart for Pacifica immediately. It will take us about two hours to get there. I can offer you a tour of Poseidon in the meantime if you like.”

         “That’s a wonderful idea,” said Michael and followed McLaughlin’s invite.

         Nora moved closer to DeMara. “I don’t like this one bit,” she said once the captain was out of earshot. “He shouldn’t even be down here in the first palace.”

          “No, he shouldn’t,” she said before she followed him out of the briefing room.

*        *        *

The next two hours turned out to be extremely interesting for Michael who took the opportunity to learn more about the Poseidon and Deleana IV. His interest had been considerable and yet he could not completely focus on what McLaughlin had to say. His thoughts kept trailing off to that vision he had experienced earlier.

The details of it were already beginning to fade and others were as clear to him as if it had happened just seconds ago.

He could still hear a voice in his head and it still seemed familiar in the strangest way. Something had been different in his last vision, something that made it more immediate and more important. It felt as though there was more to what he had seen and heard but he couldn’t put his finger on what it could be.

         The tour of Poseidon came to an end and the submarine approached Pacifica City. To Michael’s disappointment, it was nothing like what he had expected. A large metallic dome formed the center of the underwater city and connected to several smaller domes through tunnels. The city had been erected in a hurry and with no interest in style or esthetics. Michael had seen much more impressive underwater structures at the bottom of the Pacific and Atlantic oceans on Earth.

         McLaughlin had suggested keeping the landing party as small as possible and so Michael had decided to have only Nora and DeMara accompany him. Of course, the Bajoran security officer had tried to convince him to stay behind but he dismissed the notion almost immediately.

         DeMara who had been at the captain’s side since the briefing earlier, followed Michael into Poseidon’s docking port. Commander Rico, who was going to lead the away mission, and Nora were already waiting for them. Rico had also brought three security officers who were armed with assault rifles. Nora was inspecting a similar weapon she had borrowed from Poseidon’s armory.

         “Don’t you think we should try to maintain a low profile?” said DeMara when she noticed the security detail, consisting of two men and one woman both wearing black combat outfits, armor, and rifles.

         Rico grabbed a sidearm from a locker nearby and secured the weapon in his holster. “I know these people. They can smell us from miles away,” he said. “Trust me, if you intend to get out of Pacifica in one piece you better follow my example.” He pointed to two belts complete with holsters and guns sitting on a table.

         DeMara looked at Michael. He nodded, walked over to the table, and picked up the belts. He passed one to her and fastened the other one on himself. DeMara followed suit. Michael removed his sidearm and quickly familiarized himself with it. The design was significantly different to Starfleet-issue phasers but the basic functions seemed to be the same. Once he was satisfied, he put it back into the holster.

         “What can we expect over there?” he said.

         “In one word: Hostility,” said Rico. “These people don’t like us very much and I’m pretty sure they don’t like Starfleet any better. Remember that this is not a starbase or Federation colony. These are mostly renegades who do not share the same value for life as we do.”

         “Sounds lovely,” said DeMara.

         Nora stepped up. “Sir, are you positive about this? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

         “I survived Eteron, I think I can handle this,” said Michael, referring to an away mission to a less-than-savory locale a few months earlier.

         Nora sighed silently.

         “All hands prepare for final docking procedure,” said McLaughlin’s voice over the intercom.

         Poseidon shook slightly when it made contact with the underwater city’s docking port. A red light next to the exit hatch changed to green and the hatch opened, revealing an unremarkable, short corridor and a second hatch that opened only seconds later.

         Rico walked up to the first hatch and then turned around. “Stay close and do as little talking as possible and we won’t have any problems,” he said and then stepped through the hatch. One of the security officers followed him.

         Michael and DeMara were next then Nora and the last ones through were the two other security officers.

After passing a few unremarkable and mostly empty access corridors the away team reached the center of the city.

Michael found the inside of Pacifica City as disappointing as the outside. The main promenade was lined with stands, shops, and other establishments that attracted all kinds of customers. The city was a busy hub for traders, merchants, and rogues. There weren’t many humans in the city which made Poseidon’s party stand out even more. An anthropologist would have had a field day, many of the races mingling here, not even Michael recognized.

Law and order did not appear a priority. The place was dirty, poorly maintained, and barely functioning in places. Anarchy and the rule of strength seemed to be the way of life. Most inhabitants seemed to try to keep to themselves but many traveled in groups and were well-armed. Fights, verbal, with fists, knives, and the occasional blaster seemed to be a regular occurrence.

Rico had appeared right about the denizens’ dislike for authority figures. Entire groups of people stopped what they were doing when they noticed the approaching Federation contingent. They were regarded with suspicion while others made for a quick getaway, most likely because they had outstanding warrants. Most looked on with obvious despise mirrored in their eyes, some spat on the floor when catching a glimpse of the uniformed visitors.

Michael and DeMara carefully followed Rico while Nora warily surveyed everyone she deemed suspicious or dangerous. Not an easy task considering the general look of the people frequenting the city.

         “Don’t get the wrong idea,” said Rico while walking down the promenade. “Not all settlements on Deleana IV look like this.”

         “That’s a relief,” said DeMara who sounded like she was starting to get second thoughts about leaving Poseidon. She was the most eye-catching member of the group and most of the men and even a few women they passed stared at her with more than just disdain for her uniform.

         “If it was up to me, we would’ve cleaned this place up a long time ago,” said the commander. “But Federation law does not yet apply on this world. Officially, Deleana IV is an unaffiliated colony run by several independent city-states. Most tolerate our presence here, a few welcome it to keep up a semblance of law and order and protect the shipping lanes. And then there are places like Pacifica where we are regarded as the enemy. People here are free to do whatever they feel like.”

         “And that’s a bad thing?” said DeMara with a hint of skepticism in her voice.

         “Look around, Lieutenant. This is no clean and orderly Starfleet base. This is where the scum of the universe hides from people like us.”

         Michael could not understand why these people would choose to live this way. After all, there was no reason why they would be rejected somewhere else. He noticed a large alien with green skin standing in a corner. He wore a prominent prosthetic leg and something that remotely looked like an eye patch. Maybe Rico was right, he thought. Perhaps these people had made wrong decisions a long time ago and now chose to live in exile in a place like this instead of taking responsibility for their actions and serving time in a rehabilitation colony.

         Rico stopped in front of a rundown bar. Most of the letters in the neon sign above the entrance had long since died.  “I guarantee half the people in this joint are on the Ferengi’s payroll.”

         “Guess this would make it a good place to start then,” said Michael and stepped into the bar.

         The establishment was decently sized, spread out over three levels. The lower one offered a long bar counter and a great number of chairs and tables as well as plenty of dabo and dom-jot stations as well as other games of chance.

Business seemed to be going well, almost all chairs were occupied by noisy customers who yelled, laughed, and drank. Over thirty rowdy patrons made casual conversation nearly impossible.

         Michael walked over to the counter which was not quite as populated as the rest of the establishment. The few men who stood there quickly walked off once they noticed him and the others approaching. It didn’t take long for the rest of the customers to realize who had entered their bar.

The noise level dropped dramatically.

Most appeared surprised at first, a few choked on their drinks, others simply started laughing hysterically, no doubt induced by the large quantities of alcohol they had consumed. After a few seconds, the general chatter began anew but nobody fully turned their backs toward the bar counter and Michael could sense that their appearance had caused the tensions to rise.

         An especially bold and noticeably inebriated Bolian stood up and staggered toward the counter, his glance fixed on DeMara. “We don’t see many of the likes of you around here,” he said with some difficulty, his speech slurred and his wide smile revealing a row of ugly, yellow teeth. “Maybe … maybe I can interest you in a drink, friend.”

         Nora quickly stepped between DeMara and the rude Bolian, her phaser rifle pointing right into the man’s face. “If you’d like to keep your head on your shoulders, I suggest you move on,” she said in a tone of voice that left no doubts about her determination. “Friend.”

         The man stepped a little closer until the beam emitter almost touched his nose. He looked at the weapon for a second, then at Nora, tried to get another glimpse at DeMara but eventually gave up and turned around. “Just … trying to be nice,” he said and broke out in laughter.

         Many of the other patrons joined in. The Bolian attempted to sit down again but missed his chair completely and fell to the floor which caused another round of amusement.

         “Under different circumstances, I’d be flattered,” DeMara said.

         But Michael’s attention had already been caught by somebody else. In one of the far corners stood four Ferengi who were watching the Federation officers with great suspicion. The short, bald-headed, and big-eared men were whispering to each other while never taking their eyes off the landing party.

         Michael turned to Rico. “Commander, do you think you could find a way to get those Ferengi out of here for a few minutes?”

         Rico looked at him then at the short aliens at the other side of the bar. He nodded. “Priestley, Bentrai,” he said getting his officer’s attention. “Come with me.”

         Rico and the two guards slowly and carefully walked toward the Ferengi while Michael and Nora observed the unpredictable crowd. Some of them were getting agitated but not enough to oppose the black-clad officers. The Ferengi themselves became nervous and started to back-peddle. Michael could not make out what Rico was saying to them but he saw him pointing at a second exit and after a few moments the Ferengi complied reluctantly. A minute later Rico and the Ferengi had left the bar.

         “Now what do we do?” said Nora without taking her watchful gaze off the restless crowd in front of her. “I suggest we don’t draw unnecessary –“

Michael had grabbed a mug from the bar and loudly banged it on the counter. The patrons of the bar fell mostly silent again.

         “Attention to us,” said Nora quietly, finishing her sentence.

         Michael took a step forward. “We’re looking for somebody who might be able to assist us in locating a major mining location in the area,” said Michael loud enough for all to hear.

         Most customers began laughing at his seemingly ridiculous request. One of them, a tall Edosian, a tripodal species with three arms and legs and sepia-tinted skin color, stood. “I know this place is filthy and got more holes than Terran cheese but there ain’t no rats here,” he said and looked around the room. “Isn’t that right?”

         His question found ample agreement within the bar.

         DeMara stepped forward and immediately received the full attention of the present crowd. “You may not realize this but the Ferengi mining operations on Deleana might be in direct violation of … Intergalactic Mining Safety Act Sixteen. We’re here to inspect this facility for the safety of all workers.”

         Michael gave her a puzzled expression. “Mining Safety Act?”

         She offered a quick shrug and turned back to the crowd. She took another step forward. “We would be very grateful for any assistance any of you could render for us to perform these necessary inspections.”

         There were some chuckles but most of the male patrons couldn’t help but be captivated by the beautiful woman addressing them.

         One man stood up and slowly approached her. Nora was about to raise her rifle again but Michael kept her back.

         The man, a cat-like Caitian with white and black fur and a long tail that seemed to wag with excitement licked his lips as he stepped closer. He walked up to her until he was only a couple of feet from her.

 She did not budge.

         “How grateful?” he purred with a wide grin on his face.

         “Extremely,” she said, returning his smile.

         He seemed to savor the moment, taking in her smile, her brilliant white teeth, and her sparkling purple eyes.

         A shot was fired. Nora and the security officer jumped to attention and raised their weapons.

         The Caitian dropped to the floor. Another man, standing at the other side of the bar, holstered his gun and took a step forward.

         DeMara knelt to check on the unconscious body but she couldn’t make out if he was dead or only stunned. She looked up at the man who had fired on him. “Why did you do that?”

         “Because that is not the kind of person you want to do business with,” he said and walked toward the away team. He raised his hands slightly when he noticed the phaser rifles tracking him. “Easy, I’m done shooting,” he said. “For right now that is.”

         DeMara stood to look the man in the face. He was of a race she didn’t recognize and she was well-versed with most races inhabiting much of the known Alpha and Beta Quadrants. His body was covered with slick, silvery, and hairless skin. His pitch-black hair was braided close to his skull in four large plaits that seemed to grow out of four vertical ridges on his smooth forehead.

         She couldn’t quite help but feel intimidated by the mysterious alien and took a few steps back until she bumped into the bar counter.

         The man stepped over the body of the man he had shot and stopped.

         “And why should we trust you?” said Michael.

         “For one, I’m probably the only person in here who is sober enough to help you, and two, you could say that I’m less than satisfied with the terms of my current employment. Something tells me that we could agree on a form of payment that we will both find satisfactory,” he said in a much lower tone to keep their conversation as private as possible.

         Michael didn’t like the man. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his line of work or the fact that he had just shot a man in the back.

         “My name is Jungo and I suggest you make up your mind quickly. I can lead you to where you want to go,” he said and then turned around. “Why would I want to work for Starfleet?” he yelled across the room and spat on the floor. “There is enough garbage right here in Pacifica!”

         The room began to fill with laughter again.

         Jungo turned to face Michael again with impatience etched on his face.

         Michael glanced at his security chief.

         “I don’t know, sir. But I agree that we better hurry up. This could get very ugly, very quickly,” she said while keeping her focus on the patrons. “We are rapidly outstaying our welcome.”

         DeMara didn’t have an opinion to offer but her facial expressions made it quite clear that she was less than impressed by Jungo.

         Some of the guests were becoming restless and impatient with the away team’s prolonged presence and the fact that they were mingling amongst one of their kind wasn’t helping matters. “Go home, Starfleet!”

         “Watch Out!” Nora pushed Michael aside just in time to avoid his head being hit by a glass that had been slung their way. Instead, it shattered loudly against the wall behind them.

         The Poseidon security officer fired his rifle and hit the man who had thrown the glass. This caused several others to jump off their chairs and draw their weapons.

Nora took out the first one who had tried to aim his weapon at them.

Michael, DeMara, and Jungo all had their phasers up in a flash.

         “This would be a good time to leave,” said Jungo.

         “Can’t argue with that,” said Michael when a phaser blast missed him by just a hairline.

         General chaos broke out within seconds.

Half of the patrons reached for their weapons and opened fire. Chairs, glasses, and plates were thrown to the floor and tables were turned to provide cover. Some who were too intoxicated to understand what was happening simply fell off their chairs or wandered around aimlessly and got into random fistfights. Another portion felt it to be safest to stay out of a fight entirely and tried to make it to the nearest exit.

         Nora and the security guard attempted to cover the other’s escape but they didn’t get far. An energy blast hit the Poseidon security officer square in the chest and he collapsed to the floor.

         DeMara immediately grabbed the fallen man and dragged him behind two overturned tables. Nora continued to provide cover fire until all of them could make it behind the cover.

          “Are you all right?” she said as she tried to attend to his injuries, removing his chest armor only to be greeted by a vicious, bloody wound.

         “I live,” he said through clenched teeth, attempting to be cavalier about the pain he surely felt.

         DeMara looked up at Michael. “Not for long if we don’t get him back to Poseidon quickly.”

         “Transporters?” said Nora.

         Michael shook his head even as he was distracted by an angry mob trying to blast them all to pieces. “Not reliable at this depth.”

         The security chief had taken position next to the captain and fired her weapon relentlessly but she was faced with too many opponents. This was by no means a new situation for her but even all her experience didn’t make this much easier. She had to limit her fire to a defensive effort to keep their enemies who had taken position on the opposite side at bay and prevent them from attempting an all-out assault. Numbers were their weakness; they would not be able to defend against a charge.

         “Now that I’ve had time to reconsider,” said Michael while firing his phaser. “I think you were right. I should’ve stayed behind.”

         Nora laughed and knelt behind the table to pop a new power cell into her rifle. “I’m your chief of security. It wouldn’t hurt if you’d listened to my advice from time to time,” she said and looked at him. “Sir,” she added quickly and then returned fire once more.

         The situation was dire but Michael couldn’t resist a boyish smirk. She was absolutely correct, he realized. He could only imagine how frustrated she must have been at his tendency to dismiss her suggestions. “I gladly take any advice you have to offer now,” he said while unloading his weapon.

         Nora did not have to answer as a solution presented itself at that very moment. The mercenaries in the bar found themselves in the crossfire when Rico and his two security specialists reentered from the second exit and opened fire.

They took out a handful of the mercenaries right away before they could readjust themselves to the new threat.

For a moment it appeared as if the firefight had tipped into their favor. That was until the mercenaries barricaded themselves behind the bar counter and in various positions in the room making it impossible for either Rico to move toward Michael’s position or for Michael and his team to get to the exit.

 The fight seemed to have turned into a stalemate with the mercenary’s reinforcements a whole lot closer.

         “Stop shooting, you morons!”

Nobody seemed to pay attention.

         “Stop!” the Ferengi barked again while entering the room with two associates. “Stop firing.”

         The shooting slowed and eventually died down completely.

The three Ferengi made it to the middle of the bar stepping over chairs and unconscious bodies alike. “This is insane,” said their leader.

         Michael and Nora looked at each other with puzzlement and then carefully stood from behind their cover.

         “You think this is a trick?” said Michael.

         “I’d be a fool to trust a Ferengi,” said Nora and aimed her rifle at the newcomers.

         The others in the room peeked out from their cover as well. Two of the Ferengi walked over to the mercenaries convincing them to lower their weapons while the leader remained near the center of the room. “This is insane,” he said again shaking his head. “There is no need for this.” He took a step toward Michael and Nora. “My name is Brax and I’m the chief administrator of this great city,” he said, putting special emphasis on his position.

         Nora took aim but Michael pushed her weapon down gently.

         The Ferengi smiled at them, revealing his pointy, crooked teeth. “You are guests in my city. We have no quarrel with Starfleet,” he said and turned around to the others. “You hear? Guests!”

         Rico walked out from behind the corner he had been using as a cover and approached the Ferengi.

         The short big-eared alien took a quick step back, almost stumbling over a chair.

         “This is not your city,” said Rico. “You wield no authority here.”

         The Ferengi chuckled. “More than you,” he said and pointed to the upper level. Several more mercenaries had taken position at the railing and were aiming their weapons at the officers below.

         Michael took a step toward Rico and the Ferengi. “Commander, given the circumstances, I suggest we recognize his authority. At least for now.”

         The Ferengi pointed at him and nodded. “You should recognize my authority,” he said and looked at Rico, still wearing his unpleasant grin. “Did you hear that?”

         “I say we get the hell out of here while we have the chance,” said Jungo and holstered his gun.

         Rico who towered over the smaller Ferengi uttered a dismissive grunt and then signaled his two officers to retreat. They quickly crossed the room and helped their wounded comrade out of the bar. Jungo and DeMara followed closely.

         “One of these days I’ll be back, Brax. You can count on that, you hear me?” said Rico and finally turned away to head out of the bar.

         “Lucky break,” said Michael while he and Nora began back paddling toward the exit, covering the others by keeping their eyes on the mercenaries.

         “I don’t believe in luck.”

         “I hope we meet again someday, Captain,” yelled the Ferengi as Michael and the others made for a quick retreat toward Poseidon. “It was a great pleasure running into you. A great pleasure indeed.”

*        *        *

The submarine hastily departed from Pacifica City and set course for the coordinates Jungo had provided.

He had managed to convince Commodore McLaughlin that it was impossible to reach the Ferengi mining site with a ship the size of Poseidon and after Michael had assured McLaughlin that he was quite capable of piloting an underwater vessel, the commodore had allowed the five Starfleet officers and Jungo to use one of Poseidon’s small support crafts, aptly named Pathfinder, to get to their destination.

 Jungo directed them to dive deeper and it became quickly apparent that he had remained right. There had been no way for the large-sized Poseidon to navigate in between the narrow canyons they descended into. It also reaffirmed the suspicion that the Ferengi were not actually mining for ore as the remote location would have made it extremely difficult to transport it to the spaceport.

 Michael showed great expertise in steering the silver, arrowhead-shaped vessel through the challenging terrain. He had gained much of his experience when he had been younger, before joining Starfleet, when he had piloted very similar crafts deep inside Lake Baikal on Earth and later in the Pacific Ocean.

         “What exactly is the nature of your interest in the Ferengi?” said Jungo who was sitting in the co-pilot seat next to Michael. He swiveled his chair to look at DeMara, sitting behind him. “And don’t tell me this is about an inspection. I’ve been in this business for years and I’ve never heard of an Intergalactic Mining Act.”

         But she had nothing to say to the man. She Cleary still found him wholly unsympathetic and entirely untrustworthy. And he seemed equally unimpressed by her usually spellbinding aura. He quickly turned away once she simply shrugged her shoulders and continued to work on her tricorder instead.

         Nora leaned forward from her chair. “You’re here as a guide. I suggest you ask fewer questions and concentrate more on guiding.”

         Jungo looked at the other officers but neither of them seemed particularly interested in sharing information. He finally gave up and turned back to face the front. “Friendly company you’ve got here, Captain.”

         “I share their distrust,” said Michael and steered sharply to the right to avoid a large school of purple fish that seemed completely oblivious to the artificial vehicle approaching them.

         “You stick to your end of the bargain and there won’t be any reason for any distrust between us,” said Jungo. He had negotiated a deal with Michael while on the Poseidon that would obligate the Starfleet captain to pay him a significant amount of gold-pressed latinum for his services.

Michael had been reluctant to agree to the deal. Starfleet was a moneyless organization but Eagle usually carried a carefully regulated amount of legal tender for encounters with races that did not share Federation values. Like in every bureaucracy worth its red tape, there would be an endless amount of digital paperwork to complete to allow him to make any payments. A small price to find this artifact, Michael had ultimately decided.

         Jungo pointed to a large rift ahead. “Take us through there.”

         He changed course and Pathfinder passed safely through the narrow fissure.

         “I must admit you’re quite the pilot, Captain,” said Jungo. “I wouldn’t have expected that from a space jockey.”

         Before them lay a wide-open landscape of sand and rock, impossibly illuminated by the sunlight shining onto the ocean’s surface hundreds of meters above.

         “Fascinating,” said Xylion. He had unbuckled his seatbelt and walked to the front of the craft to look through the large viewport. “The texture of this ocean makes it exceptionally easy for light to traverse the water.”

         “Yes and it makes it much easier to find what you’re looking for,” said Jungo. “Take us toward that mountain range, straight ahead.”

         Michael nodded and headed the craft in the direction he had been told while slightly increasing speed, now that there were no more obstacles in their way.

         The terrain became more and more familiar. When the sandy ocean floor turned into a lush green field of sea algae all his doubts disappeared. He had been here before. Perhaps not physically but he had seen this exact place.

         DeMara had also left her seat and come to the front. “This is beautiful,” she said and then looked at Michael. “I bet you wish you could take a dive through this,” she added, fully aware that one of his favorite off-duty activities was deep sea diving.

         The captain nodded. As fascinating as this place was, something different and much more important preoccupied him now.

         The underwater mountain range became more prominent as they closed in. Its peaks reached at least a hundred meters from the ocean floor.

         “If you head south, we should reach the primary mining site in about five minutes,” said Jungo who seemed to be less impressed by the sight. Clearly, he had seen it many times before.

         Michael turned the boat north.

         “What are you doing?” said Jungo.

         Michael ignored their guide. Instead, he sharpened his gaze to carefully scan the mountainous terrain ahead.

         “We won’t get to the mining site this way,” said Jungo somewhat upset about being ignored.

         “We’re not going to the mining site,” said Michael without taking his eyes off the viewport.

         “We’re not?” said DeMara surprised.

         Nora leaned forward both curious and concerned. It was not like the captain not to explain himself. She looked at DeMara. What’s he doing? she mouthed.

         She shrugged and then looked back at the captain. But his concentration was completely focused on what lay below.

He descended the craft closer toward the rocky ocean floor. The object that had aroused his interest was almost impossible to spot. Moss and other vegetation had grown all over it, causing it to blend in with most of its surroundings.

What looked like a large rock fragment at first became a much more symmetric shape as they approached.

         “Lieutenant Armstrong, what do you make of this?”

The young man left his seat to join the others by the forward viewing point.

         The captain activated the external spotlights and focused them on the rectangular object. It lay flat on the ocean floor and was at least thirty meters long.

The archeologist scrutinized it carefully. “It does not look as if it was created naturally, look at those sharp angles.”

         “Could it be Hyterian?” said DeMara.

         “I’m not sure,” said Armstrong and stepped closer to the screen. The submarine was now hovering only a few meters over the object. “I can’t see any markings but the stone looks remarkably smooth.”

         Michael turned the craft and steered it alongside the object. There were more, similar shapes and from their position, it appeared as if they had all been one piece once.

         “It must be Hyterian. What else could it be?” said Nora.

         “I don’t know who those Hyterians are but the Ferengi have uncovered several odd things around here,” said Jungo without showing great interest in the discovery.

         “Look at that,” said Armstrong and pointed at a large square on the ocean floor. It was mostly covered by algae and sand but some of the edges were visible. It seemed to be made of the same material as the other objects and a wide column stood out at its center. Something had broken off it.

         Michael stopped the craft and looked at the column. He had seen this before but not in its present state. It had been a massive monolith that had towered over the entire mountain range. He tried to remember the direction he had moved when he had passed this point in his vision.

As it came back to him, he steered the craft further toward the mountain range until they reached several dark cave entrances.

         “There’s a lot of these here. Most of them are nesting grounds for all kinds of animals,” said Jungo.

         Michael piloted the ship into what seemed to be a random cave entrance. It was twice the size of the submarine and the ship fit through it comfortably. The interior of the cave was completely devoid of light. Even the ship’s exterior illumination seemed to be unable to penetrate the darkness.

         “This is highly unusual,” said the Vulcan.

         Michael stopped the submarine and left it to hover in front of the cavern entrance.

         “How come we can’t see inside?” said Nora.

         “Because there is nothing there to see,” said Jungo. “What are we even doing here?”

         Nora moved closer to the screen. She could see the spotlights but they did not seem to penetrate the cavern. Everything remained dark. “Shouldn’t we be able to at least see a wall or something?”

         Xylion turned to a computer console. “External sensors are not able to register any mass.”

         “Nothing?” said DeMara amazed and then joined the Vulcan. “There must be some sort of force field here. Except there is no sign of an energy source,” she said once she had looked over the readouts.

         “Well,” said Michael and activated the throttle. “We’re going in.”

         The submarine lurched forward.

         “No wait!” yelled Jungo and raised his hands. “We’re going to hit–“

         But there never was an impact.

         Instead, Pathfinder glided unhindered into the interior of the cavern. After a few seconds, the ship was completely engulfed in darkness.

         “Now that’s what I call strange,” said Jungo.

         “How did you know?” DeMara asked the captain.

         “Call it a hunch.”

         They traveled through the darkness for another few minutes that were spent in relative silence. While Nora, Michael, and Jungo kept their eyes peeled for any sign of light, the three scientists turned to computer consoles for answers.

The small vessel had not been designed for scientific study and the sensor results remained inconclusive, insisting that Pathfinder was traveling through a complete void.

         And then there was light at the end of the tunnel.

         But even that failed to illuminate the cavern itself.

         The distant speck of light grew gradually until the craft emerged from the darkness.

They found themselves at what looked like the bottom of a lake, an unmistakable surface shimmered just a few meters above them.

Michael activated the vertical turbines and the craft slipped out of the water and onto a sandbank.

Everybody in the vessel moved to one of the viewports.

They had entered a large cavern, at least forty meters high and perhaps twice as wide. Light seemed to reflect itself endlessly from the walls and the ceiling which were lined with colorful crystals.

Nora recognized the structure immediately; she had been in a very similar place just days before. “Now this is definitely Hyterian.”

         “An air pocket of this size and so far below the surface?” said DeMara. She looked at the Vulcan science officer. “How is that even possible? The water pressure should be enough to crush this place instantly.”

         Xylion’s silence was evidence that he had no answer to that mystery.

Michael didn’t look quite as surprised as the others. He disengaged the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and left his chair.  “Let’s have a look.”

Nora stepped into his way defiantly. “Sir, considering the problems we ran into on that space station I strongly recommend that you stay behind this time.”

         He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

         “Fine, but let me and Xylion scout ahead,” she said. “Just to make sure that the air is clear, so to speak.”

         He nodded reluctantly.

         Soon after Nora and Xylion exited the vehicle and stepped into the shallow water surrounding Pathfinder. It took them only a few steps to set foot on dry sand.

         Xylion used his tricorder to make sure that the air contained no toxic elements and was safe to breathe. His results, he quickly found, were satisfactory.

         There was only one path leading from the lake but it seemed as if part of the ceiling had collapsed a long time ago. There was still enough space to pass through but they had to climb over several large rocks to get to the other side.

         From inside the submarine Michael, DeMara, and the others watched closely as Nora and Xylion disappeared behind the half-collapsed path.

         After less than a minute, the captain tapped his combadge impatiently. “Lieutenant, report.”

          “It looks clear so far.“

         “Is there a but?”

         “Well, there is a lot of space here. It would take a while to make sure.”

         “Hold your position, we’ll come and join you,” he said and then closed the connection before she could protest.

         Michael, DeMara, Armstrong, and Jungo exited the small craft and followed Nora and Xylion over the rocks. After a few more meters they found them waiting at the exit of the cavern up ahead.

The captain joined up with them first. “Did you find anything—“

The cavern opened up into a huge space. And in that space sat an abandoned city.

The design was unmistakably Hyterian. Most of the buildings had collapsed and only a handful still consisted of three or more walls. The most amazing structural feature could be found far above them. It was a shimmering dome made out of some sort of sheer material. It shielded the city from the silver and blue ocean but even more impressively, it intensified the far-removed sunlight exponentially, functioning like a small artificial sun, hanging over the city.

         “Wow.” It was all that DeMara managed to say as she still tried to figure out what she should focus on first.

         Armstrong didn’t even have words. Up until very recently, he had been working on fairly routine things on a starship that had not encountered many mysteries that required an archeologist’s skills. But ever since they had discovered the Hyterians they had uncovered one marvelous find after the next.

         Michael’s reaction was different.

Yes, he was fascinated by what he had found but something had become a bigger mystery still. He had not found this place by accident. He had been led here and he could not understand why.

The city he looked at now was the same he had seen in his vision. He recognized it even though it had little in common with what he had seen. A few hundred meters away to his left was a raised platform jutting out from the rock. He recognized it as the exact spot where he had stood.

         In the vision, his attention had been drawn to the building at the center of the city. Without further hesitation, he set out to find it.

         “Sir.”

         But Nora’s protest came too late and she was left with no other option but to scramble after him as he walked determinedly down the path that led to the city.

         Toby Armstrong’s curiosity couldn’t be held back either and he quickly joined the others.

         DeMara watched them go. “That can’t be the best way to search this place.”

         Xylion nodded. “Agreed,” he said and activated his tricorder. “We will probably be more successful if we separate.”

         “That didn’t work out so well last time.”

Xylion looked at her.

         “But your logic is, as always, undeniable,” she said with a smile and then reached for her tricorder. “Let’s get started.”

         It was only after she and Xylion had parted ways that she realized that Jungo had already slipped out of sight.

*        *        *

Michael walked down what he believed to be the main road of the ancient city that led toward a large empty square. Nora and Armstrong were just a step behind him.

         Armstrong used his tricorder to scan his surroundings. The city was a great find but so far, his scans hadn’t yielded any new information that could have helped them find the much sought-after artifact.

         When they reached the square, they noticed that it wasn’t quite as empty as it had appeared from a distance. A large structure had once stood there but now nothing much besides ruins remained.

         “Judging by the layout, this looks like it might have been the equivalent to the temple on Hyteria,” said Armstrong.

         “Too bad there isn’t much left,” said Nora.

         There were still a few walls and columns standing but not enough for it to pass as a building.

         Michael approached the ruins. “Maybe we find something within it.”

         “Sir,” said Nora and fell into step next to him. “I so hate sounding repetitive but maybe it would be better if you stayed here and let us have a look around in there. I’m sure Mister Armstrong is more than qualified to find anything that might be of value to us.”

         He stopped. It wasn’t difficult to spot the somewhat pleading tone in her voice. Then he looked back at the ruins. They didn’t look particularly safe.

         “Very well, Lieutenant,” he said and noticed the relieved expression on her face. “You two go ahead and have all the fun. I’ll be staying out here and waiting like a good starship captain.”

         She gave him an affirming nod and then turned to head for the ruins.

         “Lieutenant,” he said after them.

         The pair stopped and turned to face him.

         “Don’t do anything stupid. If you get injured, it’ll be a long way back to Poseidon.”

         “We’ll apply due caution, sir.”

*        *        *

DeMara had found a building that seemed almost completely intact.

It had a large dome-like ceiling, parts of which had long since collapsed. From what she had gathered on Tentrus VI, she believed the building to have had a religious function.

There wasn’t much left inside but she did notice some form of altar that seemed to be part of the far wall. As she carefully approached, she noticed an object sitting on the stone platform. It was covered by a thick layer of dust. She knelt down and carefully blew away the dirt.

She recognized the object immediately. It was nearly identical to the curved stone Nora and Edison had found within the asteroid station a couple of days ago. It had similar markings on its surface and just like the other stone, it seemed to have broken off at both ends.

 She removed it from the platform and then quickly froze as if she expected something to happen.

         Nothing did.

         Just as she was about to inspect the artifact closer she was startled by the sound of footsteps coming from directly behind her.

         “I think I’m going to take that.”

         She turned around.

Jungo was standing on the other side of the room. His weapon was firmly pointed at her.

         “Why doesn’t this come as a surprise?”

         He shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’re psychic,” he said and stepped closer. “Now, remove your communicator and your weapon.” He pointed at a large hole in the wall. “Throw’em out.”

         She quickly considered her options. But nothing she could come up with involved her not being shot. She decided to comply. She removed her combadge from her uniform and tossed it out the hole and then did the same for her sidearm.

         “Good,” he said and crossed the room.

         “This has no value to you,” she said in hopes of changing his mind.

         “My dear, you have no idea what has value to me and what hasn’t.”

         She took a few steps back until her back was against the wall. “I’m sure we can find something else to compensate you for your services,” she said. “You don’t need to take this.”

         “I’m afraid this is all I need,” Jungo said still closing. “It would be a real shame if I had to kill somebody as pretty as you over a piece of rock, don’t you think?” He raised his gun until it pointed right at her forehead. His other hand reached out for the artifact she was still holding in her hands.

         She looked directly at him, her shining purple eyes making contact with his.

         “And spare me that insufferable look of yours. Your charms mean nothing to me.”

         She reluctantly handed the object over to him.

         “See, that wasn’t too painful,” he said with a smirk as he stuffed the stone artifact into the pocket of his pants. But his smile quickly disappeared when he heard another person entering the building. His head turned slightly to spy over his shoulder.

         She made use of the distraction.

         Balling her hand into a fist, she drove it hard into his midsection.

         She tried to get around him but he was faster and seemingly much more resilient than she had anticipated.

Just when she thought she was out of his reach, she felt his hand grabbing her lower arm. He jerked her back toward him and yanked her back hard, using her as a shield in front of him as he faced the new arrival.

         “That was quite a punch,” he said. “I guess you’re not just a pretty face after all.” He raised his weapon and pressed it against her temple. “Don’t do it again.”

         On the other side of the room, Xylion stepped through the entrance. As soon as he noticed Deen being held at gunpoint, he drew his phaser.

         “You want to be really careful, Vulcan,” said the mercenary and pushed the emitter of his gun harder against her head. A discharge of an energy weapon at point-blank range would most likely be fatal.

         Jungo took a few steps toward the large hole in the wall but continued to hold his hostage closely in front of him.

         “Shooting your hostage is illogical. You would instantly lose your leverage and be left defenseless.”

          “I don’t think Mister Jungo will necessarily do the logical thing here. Please keep that in mind,” said DeMara. She knew that this man had no scruples, just a couple of hours earlier he had shot a man in the back without wasting a second thought.

         “You better listen to her,” said Jungo with a boyish smirk on his face. “Logic has never been my strong suit.”

         “You have no means of escape. Your best option is to surrender,” Xylion said, calm as ever. He took a careful yet determined step toward them, taking aim with his phaser.

         Jungo neared the hole. “Your best option is to drop your weapon and let us both—“

         He did not get a chance to finish his sentence. Xylion fired his weapon and the energy blast found the small area of his shoulder that had been left exposed.

         Jungo jerked backwards. “Son of a—“

         He pushed DeMara harshly away from him, causing her to collide head-on with the nearby wall and collapse to the ground, and fired at Xylion at the same time.

         But the Vulcan had anticipated the move and leaped out of the way in time.

         By the time he came back up, ready to fire, Jungo had jumped through the opening in the wall behind him.

         Xylion rushed to where Deen had landed.

He knelt next to her and inspected her unconscious body. He carefully lifted her head from the cold stone floor to discover that she had a nasty wound marring her forehead from where she had hit the wall headfirst. It was oozing thick red blood.

         Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at the Vulcan looming over her. “Thanks,” she said. “Now, please, make the room stop spinning.”

*        *        *

He had grown tired of watching Nora and Armstrong investigating the ruins.

         It was a slow process made even more difficult by the apparent instability of the remains.

         The chief archeologist had requested additional personnel from Eagle for the task but that wasn’t an easy proposition due to the remote location of the ruins. Transporters and comms didn’t work here and that meant that the only way to get more people and equipment was through conventional means. Which, of course, was a logistical nightmare.

Chances were that they wouldn’t find anything at all, that any mystery this place had once held had long since crumbled to pieces, just like the city itself.

It didn’t stop Michael from venturing into the small roads that led away from the central square. He had promised Nora that he was going to stay away from any dangerous ruins but he had never agreed on standing still.

He reached an intersection and once again noticed the raised platform from where he had overlooked the city in his vision. So far, he had found very little that he recognized from his visions. For a moment he considered finding a way to get up to the platform to see if perhaps a different perspective would help their cause.

He never even got the chance to finish that thought.

A brick wall slammed into him.

Or at least that’s what it felt like.

The sudden impact pushed him forward with such abrupt force, it knocked the air out of his lungs. He had the mental wherewithal to try to roll as soon as he hit the unforgiving ground. It wasn’t quite enough to avoid a burning pain in his shoulder but it absorbed some of the impact.

For a moment he just lay there as his mind tried to understand what could possibly have happened.

And then he saw Jungo.

He was lying on the ground a couple of meters away, bleeding from his nose and clearly dazed. Michael figured he must have been at a full run when he had slammed into him, most likely looking over his shoulder instead of watching where he was going. A telltale sign that he hadn’t just been running, he had been running away.

Something had rolled out of his jacket and Michael thought it looked strangely familiar.

Jungo was already coming back around, moaning in pain and rubbing his sore shoulder.

         The man looked at Michael through half-opened eyes and then quickly searched for his weapon. He found it on the floor, grabbed it, and stumbled to his feet.

         Michael was faster.

He took a step toward Jungo and before he could even stand up straight, he delivered a picture-perfect right hook that connected with his jaw.

The mercenary took another spill and landed back on the ground.

Michael regretted the punch instantly as a sharp pain shot up his hand and arm. It had been a long time since he had sucker punched someone. He unclenched his hand and shook it out a few times, trying to alleviate the pain more quickly.

He then turned his attention to the small artifact that was still lying on the ground. There was no doubt that it was very similar to the one in Eagle’s science lab. He crouched down low to pick it up and inspect it more closely.

         But before he could even make out the markings that adorned the artifact, a bright flash of light blinded him and an invisible force pushed him down onto his knees.

         And just like that his surroundings were gone, replaced by a uniform sheet of white nothingness.

         No, not nothing.

         For somebody else was there with him.

A creature was slowly approaching. And he had seen her before. He knew without a doubt that it was the same creature he had seen in his vision of this very place.

Like before she spoke to him in her singsong voice he couldn’t understand.

She was beautiful.

Slender, tall, and graceful with white feather-like hair and a warm and yet mostly featureless face. A small nose, slim lips, and narrow but piercing eyes.

She was not so much walking but gliding toward him. She wore a long white dress that seamlessly blended in with the colorless background.

As much as tried he could neither speak nor move. He was frozen in place, on his knees, and holding the stone artifact in front of him.

The creature came to a gradual stop in front of him. He could smell her now even though he found it impossible to define, like nothing he had ever experienced before. Sweet and pleasant yet faint and fleeting.

Her entire upper body swept down gracefully until her face was mere inches from his own, almost like a mother bending down to regard her child. Her eyes were shining in a variety of colors, never quite staying the same for longer than a moment.

And then he understood.

The words began to make sense.

         “The Circle of Commencement,” she said and then stopped talking.

         Michael wanted to reply, wanted to desperately ask her to keep speaking, hoping that now he would understand more of what she had been saying.

But she just smiled.

Michael could feel something being taken from his hands. When he looked down the artifact had disappeared. He looked up again but the majestic creature was gone as well.

His vision blurred and he thought he could spot the outline of the ruins of the city again.

He turned his head and saw Commander Xylion standing above him. His lips moved but he couldn’t hear the words he was saying.

         He tried to get back to his feet. When he stumbled the Vulcan steadied him until he found his balance once again. Jungo was no longer there, nor was the stone artifact.

         “Are you injured?” he said.

         Michael considered the Vulcan curiously. “What happened?”

         “Mister Jungo stole an artifact Lieutenant Deen discovered. He escaped before I was able to neutralize him. He must have come this way.”

         Michael tried to sort his thoughts. “Dee? Is she all right?”

         “She has suffered a minor concussion. Her injuries are not life-threatening but I recommend that she receives medical attention as soon as possible.”

         Nora and Armstrong came running down the street and quickly approached.

         “Sir, are you all right?” Nora said before she had even reached him.

         He massaged his temples to try and shake off the cobwebs in his mind. “I’m fine. A bit dizzy.”

         “What happened? Where is Jungo?” she said, her phaser at the ready, thoroughly scanning the surrounding area.

         “I wish I knew.”

         Xylion had activated his tricorder and checked the read-outs. “I’m detecting an undetermined bio signature moving rapidly back toward the cave.”

         Michael nodded and then turned to Xylion. “Commander, I want you and Armstrong to go back and get Dee. Get her back to the submarine where we can treat her injuries.”

         He took a quick look at the ground around him and found his weapon which he quickly recovered. “Lieutenant, you’re with me,” he said and set out after Jungo.

         Nora followed him. “I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself,” she said once they had cleared the city.

         “Lieutenant, I’m not a child and you’re not to blame. I would’ve had Jungo dead to rights if it hadn’t been for—“

         She threw him a quizzical look but then chose to concentrate on catching Jungo instead after realizing that he was not willing to explain himself further.

         They reached the entrance of the cave soon after and slowed as they approached the collapsed part of the cavern. Voices were coming from ahead.

 “He’s got company,” he said and then gestured to Nora to quietly follow him climbing up the top of the rocks that were blocking their way.

They reached a spot that provided cover and a good view into the cavern below. Jungo was standing with his back to them. He was talking to three Ferengi.

A second, smaller submersible was sitting in the water next to Pathfinder.

Michael recognized the Ferengi in the middle. It was Brax, the man who had intervened in the fight in Pacifica City.

         “I should’ve known,” he said.

         “He was working for them all along,” said Nora and looked at the captain. “What do we do?”

         Michael observed the conversation that Jungo was having with the Ferengi. He couldn’t make out what they were saying but it seemed as if they did not agree on something.

         “We might be able to follow them,” he said.

         Jungo drew his weapon and shot the Ferengi on his left and then the Ferengi on his right. He had been so quick that the man in the middle was completely stunned. He reached for his gun but before he could even remove it from his holster Jungo had punched him in his face causing the Ferengi to drop onto his back and into the shallow water.

         “Damn.” Michael reached for his phaser to open fire. The sudden movement caused a few rocks to come loose, warning his target of the incoming danger. Jungo managed to jump aside before the phaser beam could knock him out.

         He then immediately returned fire, shooting blindly at the cave opening even as he rushed toward the small and ginger-colored Ferengi submersible.

         Poorly aimed, his shots missed Michael and Nora and instead caused the already unstable cavern ceiling to rain down dust and debris, keeping them from returning fire.

         “Move!” Nora pushed Michael and herself forward and over the rocks they had used for cover.

Not a heartbeat later, large chunks of the ceiling collapsed on the already piled-up stones causing the narrow opening to become even smaller. By the time they had made it to the other side of the cavern, Jungo had already entered the small craft and started up the engines.

         Nora who had recovered from her tumble down the rocks first, was quickly back on her feet and ran toward the submarine, firing her weapon. She managed to land a few direct hits but the stun setting did nothing to the reinforced hull of the vessel and by the time she had a chance to adjust the weapon, it had already slipped back into the lake and disappeared.

         Nora, by now waist-deep in the lake, stopped and angrily hit the surrounding water in frustration which only caused it to splash into her face.

         One of the Ferengi had come back around and began jolting wildly when he realized that he was halfway submerged, comically struggling as if afraid he’d drown in the shallow beach. He finally managed to pull himself back onto his feet, soaked from head to toe. “This is outrageous,” he screamed when he spotted the two Starfleet officers. “This is completely outrageous. You are trespassing on private property. I demand an explanation for this outrage.”

         Michael stepped up to the upset Ferengi, his hand once more balled to a fist. Brax, noticing this, quickly stepped back, trying to move away from the seemingly enraged Starfleet officer but found that the shallow waters made an escape difficult.

“I’ve got your explanation right here,” Michael said and delivered another right hook which once again found its target and sent Brax back into the lake with a splash.

         And once again, he was immediately and painfully punished for the hit, as he futilely tried to shake away the pain. “I really need to stop punching people in the face.”

*        *        *

His first instinct had been to follow Jungo and try to catch up with him.

Unfortunately, the situation required him to re-prioritize. The city had suddenly become nearly inaccessible and he had an injured crewmember on the other side who required medical attention.

 After having dealt with the Ferengi, he returned to the collapsed cavern and began to remove the rocks that blocked the path back into the ruins.

Nora in the meantime secured the three Ferengi on dry land and then quickly proceeded to assist him.

After a few minutes, they were helped by Xylion and Armstrong who had proceeded to clear the cavern from their side. Thankfully, the large and heavy rocks were mostly at the bottom and it didn’t take them too long to widen a gap just large enough for the three stranded officers to pass through.

 Michael was relieved to find that DeMara appeared to be doing fine even after her head injury. She was conscious, if a little unsteady on her feet, and the bleeding had stopped. His first priority was to get her back on Pathfinder and allow Xylion to treat her with the onboard first aid kit.

Once satisfied that she was being taken care of, he turned his attention to the three Ferengi, still mindful of the fact that they needed to return to Poseidon as soon as possible for Dee to be checked out by a doctor.

Brax had already come back around. He was noticeably still upset about the way he had been treated but this time he thought better of it than to air his grievances again. His two colleagues looked equally unhappy with the way things had panned out.

 All their hands had been tied expertly behind their backs by Nora and they were sitting on a small rock near the cavern wall.

         “Jungo worked for you all along,” said Michael as he looked them over carefully. “And you let us leave Pacifica City so we would lead you here.”

         The Ferengi did not answer. Brax’s facial expressions mirrored defiance and disgust.

         “But something didn’t quite work out, did it?” he said, ignoring their silence. “What was it? Did he want more money?”

         One of the Ferengi uttered a sarcastic laugh but quickly stopped when Brax threw him an icy, chastising glare.

         “Let’s start at the beginning,” he said, fully aware that he had to find a way to get some information out of them because as it stood right now, he had pretty much nothing at all. Not a single lead to hint at the ultimate location of the Hyterian artifact.

         Predictably, the Ferengi remained uncooperative.

         He grabbed Brax by the collar of his water-soaked, extravagant shirt and pulled him to his feet. “Listen to me and listen very carefully. You’re going to start talking or I promise you this is going to become one of the most unpleasant days of your life.”

         A look of fear flashed on Brax’s face. But it quickly passed to be replaced by a self-satisfying grin. “You’re Starfleet. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

         Micahel let him go so that he fell back onto the rock. “Hurt you? Of course not.”

         Brax’s smile grew wider. He quickly looked at his colleagues, making sure that they had registered his triumph.

         Michael looked back at the submersible. Nora and Armstrong were standing near it, observing the interrogation with great interest. Xylion was inside taking care of DeMara.

         “I don’t have time for this,” he finally said and then turned away from the Ferengi and walked toward Pathfinder.

         The Ferengi quickly began whispering to each other.

         “Pack your things, we’re leaving.”

         The two lieutenants nodded and mounted the submarine.

         Brax made it onto his feet again. “What about us?”

         Michael didn’t stop or turn around. “I don’t know, maybe you get lucky and somebody will find you here. If not, you better start to learn how to fish. Either way, I couldn’t care less,” he said and climbed into the hatch.

         “You … you can’t do that!” yelled Brax desperately. He stumbled forward, trying to run but lost his balance and fell into the lake.

         Michael closed the hatch and soon after the engine of Pathfinder powered up.

         Brax managed to get onto his knees. “No please!” he yelled. “You can’t leave us here. We’ll die.” His voice became increasingly more pleading. “Please! Take us with you. I tell you everything you want to know,” he screamed, almost crying now.

         The submarine powered down and the hatch reopened.

         When Michael stuck out his head he was smirking.

Brax knelt in the shallow waters, sobbing like a little child.

Michael stepped out and approached the Ferengi. “You better make this worth my while,” he said, quickly replacing his smile with a more determined expression. He picked up the short Ferengi and sat him back down on a rock. “Start talking. From the beginning.”

         Brax needed a few seconds to recompose himself. “All we wanted to do was to make some profits from mining ore.”

         The other two Ferengi quickly nodded to support their leader’s confession.

         “A few months ago, Jungo came to Pacifica City and told us about an easy way to quadruple our profits.”

         “Jungo came to you?” said Michael with apparent skepticism.

         Brax nodded. “Yes. We had no idea but he told us that Deleana IV was once the home of an ancient and powerful civilization and that they kept artifacts of immense value here. At first, we didn’t believe him but then we made extensive surveys and we found several signs that a civilization had indeed existed here. So we started to look for artifacts. Jungo promised us that they had buried something incredibly valuable.”

         “But you didn’t find anything?”

         “Nothing more than worthless rubble and ruins. When we followed you here, we thought you had found what Jungo had been talking about. We were not supposed to meet here, Jungo was meant to come to us once he had obtained the artifact. But we were concerned about our investment.“

         “I see,” said Michael. “Jungo played you. He needed your help to find the artifact for himself.”

         The two Ferengi scowled at Brax for having been misled so easily.

         “We put all our resources into finding that artifact. And now he's gone with the only thing that was worth anything,” said Brax.

         Michael considered his story for a moment. He was certain he had left out a few details but it seemed to make sense on the surface. “You lost whatever you had. Jungo is gone and he took the only thing of any value with him. I suggest you cut your losses and leave Deleana for good. There’s nothing left for you here.”

         Brax lowered his head.

         “Do you know anything about this Jungo? Where he might go or who his partners are?”

         The Ferengi shook his head in resignation and Michael believed him. The interrogation was over, he decided. He led the three fooled and humiliated Ferengi into the submarine and quickly steered the ship back into open waters to rendezvous with Poseidon.