Star Trek: Intrepid
The Double Edge - Part 3
by Galen Holcomb
(intrepidlogs@hotmail.com)

The Double Edge - Part 3

Chapter 6

The Galor class Cardassian warship cut through space, closing in on her prey. Within the ship's control room, Gul Balog skimmed over the data his crew had provided.

Intrepid's master was a human male by the name of Jason Aubrey.

He checked the name against those of other Starfleet captains to see if this officer was red flagged by the Dominion. A dozen or so names graced the Dominion's "hot" list-----these were Starfleet officers and captains who had been especially troublesome since the war began. A revered handful that appeared near the top of the list was considered especially dangerous-----their bios and strategies were part of basic combat training for all Dominion soldiers and pilots.

Aubrey was not on the list. However, his name had turned up in recent battles, when Balog researched further.

Aubrey's ship had been part of the Seventh Fleet during the onset of the war. It was he who had turned the tide of defeat and saved thirteen other Starfleet vessels.

It was Aubrey who had destroyed the most Dominion ships during the Archer IV engagement.

And now again, it was he who was inflicting considerable damage to superior enemy numbers.

If Gul Balog had not been a few minutes away from killing this man, he would have made sure that Aubrey's name was placed on the Dominion's fabled list with all due haste.

But that was unnecessary, of course-----because no matter how skilled a starship commander is, there comes a time when his vehicle simply has nothing more to give. Even a military genius can only do so much after his resources have been eliminated.

The Federation captain was driving for the nebula, no doubt hoping to hide his ship there while making repairs.

Balog would see he never got the chance.

"Continue current velocity. Inform me immediately when we are in attack range. Gunnery officer, stand by forward batteries."

"Sir," his second in command spoke up. "I show we can overtake the enemy within minutes if we accelerated to full speed. I respectfully suggest that we can fire on them at close range, then force a surrender."

Balog felt his first officer's stupidity assault him as though it were a tangible force.

He sneered at his underling. "Yes, by all means. Bring us close enough to our enemy for them to destroy us."

"Sir? The Federation ship is crippled. Their weapons are down. I don't see how-----"

"That you don't see is quite obvious." Balog broke in. "My crew can thank the Gods that I do see, and quite well."

He turned his back on the man, addressing his next remarks to the view screen. "That commander out there has but one option for defeating us: suicide. If we don't keep our distance, he will either ram us or self destruct his ship within close proximity, either way, we are dead."

Balog rendered his final judgment on the subject. "An obvious tactical assessment to anyone who does not think with their neck bones."

Oh, how Balog detested this idiot. His first officer's name was Timett and he was only on Balog's ship because of a sadistically bad run of luck. Balog's previous first officer had recently been killed while piloting a strato car in an intoxicated state-----he crashed into a tower on Cardassia Prime and managed to take five civilians with him when he died.

An undignified death to say the least.

But this embarrassment had not been the end of Balog's misfortune. Since his first officer had not belonged to any family, Balog had to assume responsibility for his actions, as dictated by antiquated military doctrines.

Gleefully, the Gods had made sure that one of the civilians killed in the accident was the nephew of a high-ranking military official who had come to greater prominence after Cardassia joined the Dominion. This official wanted a favor from Balog and Balog was hardly in a position to say no. And so the official's son, Timett, was granted an immediate promotion from civilian freighter captain to first officer within the Cardassian Militia's Seventh Order.

Balog's dimwitted second in command was a military school drop out. The man wouldn't have recognized his own ass if it introduced itself to him.

The ship's data officer distracted him from his self pity. "Sir, the closer we get to the nebula, the harder it is to get sensor information. Subspace interference is increasing exponentially-----I'm losing contact with the Starfleet ship."

"Increase sensor output to maximum, then adjust our beams to a narrow confinement." Balog responded. "Helm officer, increase speed by one third."

As his crew went to work within the control pit, First Officer Timett stepped in front of Balog.

"Sir, we have word from the fleet." his scales were flushed with excitement. This in and of itself meant nothing to Balog. He had once seen Timett get flushed with excitement upon learning that his favorite dessert was available on the ship's replicator menu.

"Word of what?" he asked impatiently.

"The Dominion battleship has been destroyed by Federation forces. But," he added quickly, "The enemy fleet has been wiped out except for two ships. And more importantly," and here Timett beamed with pride, flashing his insipid smile. "Our ships have broken through to Betazed. I have reports of our soldiers making planetfall."

"'Our soldiers'?" Balog repeated coldly. "Do you mean Cardassians or Jem'Hadar?"

Timett saw a smoldering fury radiate from Balog's eyes. It was a hatred that was far and above anything that had ever been directed at him-----and that it wasn't directed at him made it all the more dangerous. One could navigate a mine field only if one knew where the mines lay.

"Well, Jem'Hadar mostly. I mean, I think. The report didn't specify the breakdown." Timett floundered in the dark, hoping to stumble upon the right answer-----anything to make that awful look go away.

"Never mind." Balog said at last. "The news is good, if not unexpected. Are we ordered to join the assault?"

"There were no such orders." Timett said, relieved at the change of subject.

There was a flicker of anger in Balog's eyes, but this time it was little more than a dull ember.

"Also not unexpected." he murmured.

"Sir, we will be in weapon's range in one minute." the gunnery officer reported.

Balog allowed himself the luxury of a smile. "Excellent. Transfer firing controls to me. I want this ship for myself." He sat in his command chair and toggled the switches that would bring the targeting scanners on line.

He might not have much else in his life to celebrate, but for this brief moment, Gul Balog would relish the game in all its delicious glory. He would forget his simple minded first officer; forget the Dominion with their transparent lies of friendship. For this moment, he would surrender to the bliss of defeating a dangerous enemy, crippled though he may be.

The weapon's lock failed to operate. Their growing proximity to the nebula was degrading the sensor returns with each passing moment.

All the more fun. He switched targeting controls to manual.

"We are now in weapon's range." the gunnery officer announced.

Balog took aim and hammered the Federation ship with full disruptors.

"Report." he demanded after a few minutes of spitting out volleys.

"Enemy vessel is down to 15% shields. They have sustained significant damage to their superstructure and engines." Timett supplied.

Balog gazed with delight at the main view screen as they closed on the enemy ship. He could make out hull damage even from this distance.

"Sir," his data officer spoke in alarm, "incoming fire, photon warheads."

Balog saw the enemy ship launch three torpedoes from her aft tubes. They were too close to avoid the projectiles, but he was hardly concerned-----the Cardassian shields would easily absorb the damage.

But the weapons never hit their apparent target. Instead, they exploded directly off the destroyer's bow.

There were overlapping shouts of alarm from his officers within the control pit.

"My detector network is going down!"

"-----I have no data, sir!"

"-----sensors are off line!"

The main view screen became a jittery curtain of static.

Swift as a hammer strike, the Cardassian warship was cut off from the outside galaxy.

Balog leaped out of his chair. "Evasive to port! Lay down a firing pattern in all directions!"

His gunnery officer hunched over his scope. "All batteries have been fired, sir. I just can't tell if we hit anything."

"Get those sensors up, you idiots!" Balog roared, "Now!"

"Interference from the torpedoes is already clearing sir." The data officer reassured him.

The nebula spread into existence once again on the main screen.

But like some elusive specter, the Starfleet vessel was nowhere in sight.

"Where is the enemy ship?" Balog demanded.

Then he heard Timett gasp with dread. "Gul Balog! I show a large body directly below us!"

"Fire on it, quickly!" Balog ordered.

His gunnery officer slapped his console in anger. "It's too close, I can't find a target."

Balog could not believe that his adversary had managed to once again turn the tables. In the scant seconds that Balog's sensors had been down, Intrepid must have come about, flying right at the Cardassian destroyer. The dangerous Starfleet battleship that Balog had been so careful to keep a distance from was now so close that he could have reached out and kicked its hull.

No doubt Aubrey was about to explode his ship, taking Balog with him.

"Get us out of here!!" he howled in desperation. "All power to shields!"

And then, another rude surprise.

"Gul Balog, the enemy's screens are in contact with our own. Our shields are being depolarized and are losing integrity."

"Compensate! Rotate harmonics continuously! Helm, full evasive maneuvers. Pull us away from them!"

"Our shields are being penetrated at the point of contact." the data officer warned.

Timett seemed bewildered. "They've locked on to us with their tractor beam." he said in a low voice. "Why?"

Balog could think of several reasons why, none of them good.

"Set our own tractor beam to repel. Push them away, quickly." he instructed.

"We can't sir," his data officer gulped. "Their vessel is at a location that our beams can't reach."

More bad news came by way of Balog's security officer. "Intruder alert! We're being boarded! Location: engineering."

Incredibly, Timett took the correct action and took it swiftly. "Transporter control," he shouted into the intercom, "lock onto those boarding parties and send them into space!"

Gul Balog put two and two together in a moment of total clarity. He understood that his ship was not being invaded by anything organic.

Cursing himself for not forecasting this scenario and preparing for it, he bellowed into the intercom. His voice reeked of panic, but he no longer cared.

"All crewman! Evacuate engineering area! Seal everything aft of junction 54!"

There was no time. The photon warhead, which was nestled in the guts of Balog's engineering room, detonated at maximum yield.

* * * * *

Douglas Pal blinked groggily, then allowed his eyes to creep open. A bluish green wall of light shimmered before him. Disoriented and unable to remember what he was doing last, he simply stared at the luminescence without comprehension.

Pretty colors, was the only coherent thought that emerged from his disjointed stupor. The effort it took to form even that much of a thought was exhausting and he nearly fainted.

After an unknown quantity of time passed, he seemed to gain a greater awareness of who he was. Ever so slowly, memory fragments fell into the empty places in his head. At first, his returning memories were exhilarating. He felt a great rush of excitement at learning who he really was and how he came to be wherever he was now. It was like seeing how an intriguing puzzle would come together.

However, as more of his thoughts returned, the more he began to feel afraid.

He began to understand that his recollections and memories were not returning to him because his brain had overcome some type of amnesia. Rather, his thoughts and memories were being given back to him.

Because someone or something had taken them out.

He started to squirm, swinging his head in every direction at once.

"Where the hell am I?" he said aloud. His voice had a dull, hollow sound, as if he were speaking within a small cave, kilometers under the surface of a planet.

Quite the opposite. He was floating, suspended within a large twinkling beam of light. He craned his head downward and squinted through the glare.

Something was down there. The beam he was suspended in seemed to originate from the surface of-----something. A planet? Or maybe a vast barricade rather than a planet's surface. Since there was no up or down that he could perceive, it might be either. It was far away, whatever it was, for he could see that the beam narrowed as it receded away from him into the distance.

He must have been captured by the Dominion. This was some kind of detention area, although it didn't fit the description of any he had ever heard of.

Wonderful. Death he was prepared for. Especially a quick one, like being at ground zero when Genesis exploded-----or being vaporized as the runabout's engines overloaded.

But this? Kept alive as his captors tortured him or destroyed his mind with invasive probes?

He doubted he could endure such an experience. Starfleet training had prepared him for much, but he was no commando. He wished he were. He had heard tales of how Starfleet commandos could end their lives just by willing it, without the aid of drugs or technology.

And if ever Pal wanted a quick death, it was now.

He shook his head. Here he was thinking of himself again when his friend and shipmate, Adol, was God only knew where. He owed it to Adol to keep it together long enough to find out-----

Movement. Something he had missed before now caught the attention of his eyes. Another beam of light, running parallel to his own, swung closer. Within moments, it swept within a few dozen meters of his position.

Hanging within the beam, was the runabout Chin Ho. It somersaulted in slow motion as light splintered off it's white hull. Pal watched it turn end over end, completing graceful pinwheels.

What's this all about? He mused darkly.

A horrendous grinding noise made him start. It gradually became louder and Pal soon realized it was coming from the runabout-----it was being compressed by some unseen force, it's hull pulling inward as though a gravitational singularity was located within the ship's cockpit.

Incredulous, he watched the ship implode, first crunching into a wad of metal half it's former size, then finally into a fist sized lump-----and still the compression went on, until eventually the Chin Ho completely disappeared.

The pillar of light that had held it winked out, as though it had been nothing more sinister than a search beacon.

It's not the Dominion, he thought with awe. He might know little about the enemy, but he knew this wasn't their style.

Then, a thundering voice resonated through him.

"WHY ATTACK?"

Pal winced at the crescendo of noise.

The query was repeated, bludgeoning his eardrums.

"WHY?"

"Who are you?" Pal yelled, covering his ears with both hands.

A stretch of long silence seemed his only answer. Finally, when he began to suspect that his captors had deserted him for a more engaging diversion, the god like speaker returned, this time offering an answer to Pal's question. A name was uttered, something from the galaxy's deep treasure chest of legends-----a word that was only used to conjure up fearful nightmares within the minds of misbehaving children.

It can't be, he thought. Are they joking?

"ACCESSION HALTED" the voice continued. This time, there was anger in the tone that made his skin crawl.

"I-----I don't know what you mean..." he stammered.

"ARCHER IV DOOMED." came the indignant accusation.

Pal licked his lips, which were quickly becoming empty of moisture. "Listen to me, we can talk this over. Whatever you think we've done-----"

"GENESIS." came the thunderous voice. "INTERFERENCE."

Pal's heart dropped into his stomach. Were these creatures inside of the nebula? Was he? Had they perceived Genesis as an attack on their population?

If this race was who they said they were, then he, along with the entire Alpha Quadrant, was in very serious trouble.

"Please listen." he began. "We didn't know you were here. We're at war. We thought-----"

"BEGIN AGAIN." The alien's voice was devoid of emotion and unyielding as a mountain.

Something speared into his mind and began to rip his thoughts away, one by one. He tried to talk, to reason with these creatures, but it was soon obvious that they had stopped listening.

Lieutenant Pal began to scream.

* * * * *

Racked by internal explosions, the Cardassian destroyer shuddered violently, then dissolved into an expanding fireball. From the point of destruction, a fiery wave of supercharged plasma and debris sped outward into space.

Aboard Intrepid's bridge, Chief Engineer Cal Benjamin felt his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He was sitting at the engineering enclave, goggling at the shower of material and radiation that was about to make contact with the ship.

"Captain, our shields and navigational deflectors are gone." he squeaked. "If a big enough fragment hits us-----"

"Contact in 42 seconds." Shantok warned.

Aubrey stiffened in his chair. The wave front could be seen on the main viewer, approaching fast, even as they raced away from it. There had been no time to get the ship to a safe distance after unlatching from the Cardassian vessel. It seemed that the enemy commander was intent on destroying them still, even from the grave.

"I need suggestions, people."

Throwing safety protocols to the wind, Benjamin left his station and began to pace energetically, his mind racing at top speed.

Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "A low energy warp field!" he nearly shouted.

"Lieutenant?" Shantok asked.

"We-----we could set up a weak warp bubble, just enough to deflect the larger pieces of debris and plasma."

"You said the core was down." Aubrey reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, it is, for going to warp speed. But I could fire it up long enough to create a static envelope of subspace, which would act like our shields normally do by dispersing-----"

"All right, we get the picture." Aubrey interrupted. "Just do it and make it damned fast."

Benjamin gulped loudly, nodded once, and then went to work at this station.

Shantok activated the intraship address. "All hands, brace for impact. Non essential personnel, evacuate sections 23Y through 81D."

"15 seconds." Rodriguez reported from tactical.

"Transfer auxiliary power to structural integrity." the captain ordered. Then he glared at Benjamin. "Lieutenant! We're out of time!"

"Done. I'm done!" Benjamin exclaimed as his head bobbed in every direction at once-----he looked as though he were trying to see every display screen simioutaniously.

"Activate field." Aubrey said.

Space stretched and pulled around the starship like a great sheet or rubber. Most of the deadly wave now found itself on a new path that took it away from the ship.

Most of it.

Not for the first time in one day, the ship was subjected to cruel punishment as what remained of the ejecti engulfed her. Intrepid's hull became pockmarked as material rained across her ablative armor. Her nacelles shone brightly as the warp coils were illuminated by furious eddies of radiation.

"Damage report." Aubrey asked when the ship stopped trembling around him.

"Extensive damage to our ablative armor-----and we have another hull breach on deck six. Emergency force fields are holding." Shantok winced as she spoke. Her burned face was starting to challenge her mental control, which was normally precarious even on a good day, thanks to her Betazoid genes.

"Good work, Mr. Benjamin." Aubrey said sincerely.

Benjamin tried for a smile, but with the captain looking at him, he found his face had lost all motor control. He gaped at Aubrey, then hunched over a console, pretending to be drawn away by some perplexing technical dilemma.

The captain rose from his chair, intending to get a tactical report, but did a double take at his first officer.

"Commander, you're injured." He said. He only now realized that the left half of Shantok's face was covered with second degree burns and large blisters. She must have been careful to conceal it from him by showing only her right side to his direction.

Aubrey ascended the stairs to the upper command deck, a worried look taking root on his features. "Report to sickbay immediately." he said firmly.

Shantok took a few moments to suppress the agony that threatened to take hold of her, then said, "Captain, I am needed here-----and sickbay is overwhelmed with more serious injuries."

He frowned with irritation, then turned and walked to the rear of the bridge. He reached under the tactical station and retrieved an emergency med kit. He was at her side with a tricorder before she could object.

He scanned her, and then shook his head at the readings. "You're on the verge of going into shock. You need immediate treatment." He gestured to his command chair. "Have a seat." He ordered.

Shantok's eyes displayed the barest hint of reluctance at taking the captain's chair while he was on the bridge. She hesitated before moving forward, but didn't protest. After all, she did want medical attention-----the opportunity simply had not presented itself before now.

She sat down as Aubrey dialed up a hypo, injected her, and then tended to her face with the dermal regenerator.

Ensign Fidel from OPS was too well trained to let a break in the routine distract her. "Sir, " she said, " we're still on course for the nebula. At our current speed, we'll penetrate the outer boundary in less than four minutes."

Benjamin cleared his throat and said nervously, "Captain, the particle density's too thick. If we hit the nebula at this speed without deflectors or shields, we'll be torn apart."

The helm officer, a Latin woman, turned around to address the captain. "Sir, I've mapped some holes and thin layers ahead of us." she inhaled deeply, then met Aubrey's gaze. "I can take us into the first layer safely. We'd only have to cut our speed by point five seven KPH. We won't have sensors due to subspace interference from the nebula, but I can get us through with the mapping information we obtained on approach."

"There are two Cardassian gun ships on an intercept course." Rodriguez added from tactical. "But they're too far away to catch us before we enter."

"But they can still follow us in." Aubrey commented, as he watched Shantok's blisters shrink under the DR's healing beam.

"Let them come." came the confident challenge from a young lieutenant at the auxiliary weapon's board. He was a darkly attractive man of Middle Eastern decent. His eyes shone with brashness.

Brashness. Confidence that they would survive. In healthy quantities, these were inestimable traits for any crew to possess. But too much of anything could be dangerous. Especially during war.

Yet, how could he blame them?

They had just defeated four Dominion fighters and a Cardassian destroyer with no support from the fleet. Once again, they had followed their captain's orders and emerged from "no win scenarios" not only alive and in one piece, but tasting the sweet nectar of victory.

His crew was starting to feel invincible. So much so, that they were turning a blind eye to how badly damaged the ship was-----how defenseless. In their present condition, they could no more survive two Cardassian gun ships than they could fly through a supernova without harm.

He supposed there were worse traits for a crew to have-----but in his gut, he felt that before the day was out they would all enjoy a greater sense of humility.

Shantok stood up and gently raised a hand to her face. "Thank you." She said.

Aubrey nodded. "Just make sure Doctor Kella has a look as soon as possible."

"One minute to the outer boundary, " the helm officer reported. "I'm reducing speed so we can navigate away from the denser regions."

Shantok spoke just loud enough for Aubrey to hear. "Sir, I should remind you that the nebula's interior is still experiencing some kind of violent, unexplained phenomena. We will only be able to hide in the cloud's surface layer, which will provide little cover."

He shrugged, making an attempt at looking cavalier. "Something's better than nothing. Helm, avoid the nebula's interior-----be sure to keep us within the surface layer."

The captain then turned to his skittish young engineer. "Mr. Benjamin, any chance you can pull off that same trick with the warp core? It might help us repel the thicker clusters of radiation and dust."

"I'm sorry, sir. We'd cause a core breach for sure this time."

The captain smiled. "How did I already know that?"

Benjamin stood. "I've diverted everything I can into structural integrity, but it's gonna be a rough ride."

"30 seconds." the helm officer reported.

"All decks, secure stations and brace for nebula penetration." Shantok ordered into the COMM system.

Like a wounded bird, the starship fell towards the dust swarm.

* * * * *

Gul Balog owed his life to Timett-----that fact alone was enough to make him consider different ways of killing the man. The humiliation of waking up in an escape pod to Timett prattling on about how he had dragged Balog to safety was beyond excruciating.

Timett was further taking his life in his hands by smiling continuously-----that moronic, mentally impaired grin that announced to the galaxy that we was a witless buffoon prancing about in a military uniform. A buffoon who was, at present, insufferably pleased with himself.

The trouble was, there was no effective way of killing Timett that would not cause Balog more grief than the effort was worth. He was crammed into a tiny escape pod with his former shipmate, so breaking the idiot's neck meant he would be trapped inside a drifting coffin with a decomposing corpse.

Even if he were rescued soon, Timett's body would be difficult to explain, given that he was the son of a high ranking government official. Balog could not fall back on his normal tactics to cover his tracks because he would be under greater scrutiny from his superiors.

Nor could he vaporize Timett with his disruptor. The man was nearly sitting atop him within the small confines of the escape pod and Balog would burn to ashes along with his tormenter. The thought had a certain appeal, but he wasn't wholly comfortable with it. Dying alone with Timett would almost lend the fool a certain credibility, which might in some way validate Timett's life. Better to live on in misery than give Timett more acclaims he didn't deserve.

How could he have allowed this? Bad enough to have clumsily misjudged a wounded adversary and lose his ship. But to be cheated out of the ultimate escape from shame and punishment by a simpleton?

Timett suddenly ended his yammering. His eyes went wide with fascination. "Gul Balog! Look!" He jabbed his finger out the view port with spasmodic animation.

Balog bent forward and looked where Timett was pointing-----not because he was swept up in Timett's exuberance-----any minor object would be enough to capture Timett's limited attention. He looked only because there was nothing else to look at from his small dungeon.

All Balog saw for his effort was the angry glow of the Kokala nebula. That, and light reflecting off the shredded remains of his vessel.

He leaned back in his seat and sighed. "I saw nothing. We should set a course in the direction of our forces-----when we've gained distance from the nebula's interference we can transmit a distress call." Balog only said as much because he was trained to survive-----but in point of fact, he had lost interest in survival. The disgrace of losing his ship and a future as the pawn of Timett's family left very little for him to look forward to.

"I saw something really strange." Timett insisted. His eyes rolled everywhere while he plastered his face to the window port's surface, trying to see around the pod's curvature. After a moment he gave up, sighing in frustration. Then a new idea occurred to him.

Balog watched with apathy as Timett twisted around in the small confines of the Cardassian life boat, grabbing for a portable scanner that was hanging on the bulkhead. He unsnapped it, and then held the small instrument in front of their faces so the display screen was visible to both of them.

Timett made some adjustments on the control panel, and then said, "I think I can get a visual image with this." He made more adjustments, once or twice grunting with impatience like a child trying in vain to fix a broken toy.

"What is it?" Balog asked dully. "A rescue ship? Or an enemy vessel?" His tone indicated that he was indifferent to either prospect.

"Neither, sir. It looked like, like-----" he made a final adjustment. "That!"

All at once, Balog saw it. It looked as though part of the nebula had twisted away from itself, forming some kind of tubular vortex. Energy snarled around the anomaly as it stretched forth from the dust cloud, cutting into an erratic path. It reminded him of a great electrical arc, striking at its unseen target in slow motion.

Balog's indifference melted into dread. He silently thanked the gods that this thing was not coming for him.

He snatched the portable viewer from Timett and changed the display, so the image pulled back to reveal a long distance shot. He wanted to know where that thing out there was going-----it was traveling so erratically, who could say that it wouldn't double back on their position?

Distantly, he made out another vessel. It was on the far side of the nebula and just barely visible.

He squinted, making some delicate changes to the scanners. The resolution began to improve. The anomaly was whipping directly for the ship, which he now recognized as having a Starfleet configuration.

He squinted again at the display. Only one Federation ship that he knew of could be in this area.

The Starfleet cruiser was desperately trying to evade the anomaly, but to no avail.

Balog began to smile, his grin stretching wider as each moment passed. "Poor little man. What fate have you earned? What price will you pay for your victories? For your atrocities?" He spoke to the image with such tenderness that a stranger might have mistaken it for genuine sympathy.

The ship never stood a chance. A funnel of energy swept over the hapless vehicle with tremendous speed. Awash in a whirlpool of strange power, it quickly become transparent and insubstantial-----as though it were being carried off to the spirit world of lost souls. Then the energy cascade became vicious, evolving into a storm of snapping energy tendrils. The ship seemed to distort, it's hull bent and twisted into odd angles until finally it flattened into a two dimensional sheet.

What was left of the funnel slowly faded away like a dispersing mist.

When it was over, there was no trace of the U.S.S. Intrepid.

Timett watched uneasily as Gul Balog bawled out gales of laughter, the noise amplified into harsh echoes by the pod's acoustics.

Chapter 7

The battle for Betazed was officially over, having lasted almost three days. The arrival of the Tenth Fleet had come too late to dislodge the entrenched enemy forces that had captured the system. Betazed, like so many worlds before it, had now become part of the Dominion.

Of the dozens of Federation starships who had entered the fray, only six remained. Starfleet had reluctantly ordered the surviving ships to withdraw rather than sacrifice more lives in a futile effort to re take the planet. In what perhaps was a final insult to the ravaged task force, not a single enemy ship had bothered to chase them as they fled the system.

* * * * *

Captain Caroline Hiroko of the late starship Legacy, looked up as she heard the chime.

"Come."

Admiral Jellico stood before her as the doors to her room hissed open.

She tried to stand at attention as swiftly as her bruised body would allow, but Jellico gestured for her to sit back down.

"Captain. You're looking better." It was an observation rather than a compliment, but there seemed to be some pleasure in his tone.

Hiroko couldn't honestly return the sentiment. Jellico looked like hell-----almost as if he had aged 20 years in the last few days.

"Thank you, sir. Nagasaki's doctors worked some magic on my broken bones, but I still have a little mending to do on my own."

He nodded, walking over to a mirror that was mounted against the bulkhead. He took a fleeting glance at his reflection then turned away from it as though offended by the image.

"I've been ordered to Starbase 47 for debriefing." He informed her. "Starfleet would like a ship to remain behind to monitor developments in the area and provide tactical updates."

"I see." She didn't know what else to say. The admiral hadn't made the trip to her cabin only to tell her of his new orders. She waited for him to continue.

He looked at the deck. "I've chosen the Sentry. She's fast. She's also suffered the least damage of all the remaining ships."

Grimacing slightly, Hiroko stood up from her bunk. "The Sentry took heavy causalities." She said. "Why not the Nagasaki?"

Jellico looked around him. "This ship is being reassigned to a new task force. She'll be taking me back to Starbase."

She eyed him warily. "'You'. Not 'we'."

"The Sentry's command officers were killed. She needs a captain-----at least, for this assignment."

"Me."

He took a step towards her. "I need an experienced command officer. So yes, that's you." He handed her a PADD. "These are your orders and a full report on the ship's operational status. Report aboard at 1400 hours."

She skimmed her orders. "Pretty straight forward. Tactical reconnaissance and run like hell if the enemy comes after us."

Jellico glowered at her. "Don't forget the part about rescue operations."

She looked at him innocently.

"As in: you are forbidden to mount any. Period. No running back to pick up escape pods that you think you're hearing distress calls from."

"There could be survivors." She replied. "For example, the two crewman from Intrepid were aboard that other runabout. They're still unaccounted for."

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed softly. "Caroline. No risks. We've lost enough good people. Observe and report. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

Satisfied, he turned to leave.

"Admiral." Her voice caught him at the door. He turned around.

"Captain?"

She almost lost her resolve, but her determination surfaced in time to save her from an awkward silence. "I just wanted to say, you did your best. You did all anyone could expect."

Jellico opened his mouth to remind her that he had lost two major engagements within a week. There would have to be accountability for that and he was more than willing to face the consequences of his failures.

The old Jellico would have spit out the aforementioned thought without hesitation.

Instead, he heard himself saying; "Thank you, Captain-----but I don't need coddling. Just get through your assignment in one piece. Starfleet needs all the good officers it can get."

"Aye, sir. That they do."

He seemed to hesitate before speaking again. Finally, he said, "Caroline, my condolences on the loss of your ship. I...know how difficult that can be."

"Thank you, sir."

Over his shoulder he voiced a final sentiment. "Sonya Kantrovitch was one hell of an officer, by the way."

She nearly flinched. Before she could think of a response, he was gone.

Hiroko was disappointed to find she couldn't shed any tears for her dead companion because she had no tears left to give-----she was too drained spiritually and physically. Besides, so much had been lost, so many lives shattered and destroyed, she wouldn't have know who to begin weeping for first.

* * * * *

Saying that consciousness returned to Commander Shantok wasn't entirely an accurate statement. She couldn't be sure that she was ever unconscious to begin with. All she was certain of was that she now found herself in full awareness-----what state she had occupied before that was a troubling mystery.

A greater mystery was how she came to be where she presently was-----and more importantly, just where was "here"?

She found herself hanging within a shimmering tube of blue green light, which appeared to terminate far below her at a vast plane. Above her, subjectively speaking, the beam continued on well beyond her line of sight.

She wasn't alone. All around her, tubes were everywhere, forming intersecting branches of light.

As she peered through the glare, she could make out humanoid figures in the nearest of the beams, suspended just as she was. The figures were not moving and thus, she could not tell if they were dead or alive. She was able to see that those closest to her were adorned in Starfleet uniforms.

She closed her eyes and tried to recall how she came to be here. Her last memory was being on Intrepid's bridge as they approached the Kokala nebula. She remembered they had been less than a minute away form penetrating the outer boundary-----

A memory bolted to life, a scene in which she heard herself saying, "Evasive maneuvers aren't working. The anomaly is closing on our position..."

Another voice (the captain's?) "Brace for collision!"

A voice overlapping the second one, younger, frightened, "Oh my God, sir! It's killing us, it's kiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-----" Like a damaged recording, the shriek droned into a single, repetitive note. It seemed to echo away into infinity. "It's kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii......"

The memory ended there. She shook her head, something that was far from a normal Vulcan mannerism but which seemed oddly appropriate at the moment.

Something had happened. Something had happened to the entire crew. She tapped her combadge. "Shantok to captain. Please respond." As she expected, her combadge was inoperative.

But someone or something was out there. Her Betazoid half was starting to resonate with powerful emotions that threatened to batter down her defenses. She was sensing a potent consciousness-----a mind or series of minds, which were about to drown her with naked feeling and raw, undiluted intellect.

Being half Betazoid had always been a difficulty for her. It was a daunting enough task for the average Vulcan to suppress their emotions, never mind someone whose father was a full blooded telepath. With the Betazoid gene added to the telepathic abilities already inherent in Vulcans, one was left with a formable combination, to say the least. Shantok realized as a young child that if she chose to lead a life of no emotion, as most Vulcans did, she would need to build her will power into a mighty machine of discipline. It would require self control of such a magnitude that most Vulcan teachings would seem like a child's exercise by comparison.

She persevered because she believed in the philosophy of Surak, and a life dedicated to self control, rationality and concise thinking. She did what was required to maintain those principals, even if the sacrifices were great. She meditated three times as much as any other Vulcan and that was in addition to the routine mental exercises that Surak's lifestyle demanded. Were it not for the extra meditation to keep her powerful Betazoid and Vulcan abilities in check, she would absorb every stray feeling and thought within 20 kilometers of her. Because of this, she eventually customized her mental shields to the extent that she could ward off any intrusion.

But what surrounded her today was beyond her experience. At best, she might fend off some of what threatened to pour through her mind, but she knew that in the end, it would be a futile gesture...

* * * * *

"Captain!" Cal Benjamin yelled and waved his arms. Aubrey looked down the winding path to see his chief engineer running in his direction. He closed the distance within a few minutes and trotted to a halt next to his commanding officer.

"Sir, are-----are you all right?" Benjamin was doubled over from the exertion of running, his hands resting on both his knees. Aubrey made a mental note to mention his lack of endurance to Doctor Kella.

"I'm fine. Have you seen the rest of the crew?"

Benjamin shook his head between pants. "I was hanging in some kind of beam-----then something happened to my mind. At least it felt like something was happening." He pointed to the translucent surface they stood upon. "Then I got dumped out here."

"The same thing happened to me." Aubrey looked around him. The pathway they stood upon was approximately two meters wide and seemed paper thin. Above and below them was a dark emptiness. In both directions, as far as the eye could see, the path curved off into sharp twists and turns, like a huge ribbon of infinite length. Directly ahead, he saw a tangle of light beams reaching upward. Their odd colors cast a tawny luminescence upon the pathway.

"Our combadges are out. Let's see if we can find anyone else."

Benjamin's eyes were haunted. "Sir, what happened? Where are we? One moment we were about to enter the nebula, then-----"

Aubrey took hold of his arm and applied gentle pressure. "I don't know, Cal. But so far, we're alive and well. That means our abductors are probably not hostile, just curious."

"Then you don't think it's the Dominion that's holding us?"

"Of course not," he replied as he began a brisk walk down the pathway. "If it were the Dominion, they would have made their presence known by now."

Benjamin pointed ahead of them, where the collection of beams arched upward like intertwining reeds. Above the beams an immense object rotated like a great wheel.

"Something's up there," Benjamin commented.

"I see it, but I can't make it out. What do you say we keep walking in that direction and have a look? This path seems to run right towards those beams."

Uneasily, the two officers began their trek towards the unknown.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Commander Adol had been lost before in his life, but never in so bizarre a landscape as this. Everywhere he looked was darkness-----except for the faint light given off by the surface he stood upon. All that he could fathom was that he was walking upon some winding pathway that felt like plastic under his boots. The path seemed to go everywhere, twisting off into odd angles, sometimes becoming small hills or valleys with no apparent pattern or reason. It was like walking across an endlessly long roller coaster track. More than once he nearly lost his footing, coming dangerously close to plunging off the side and down into the bottomless pit that lurked below him.

Well, maybe it wasn't so bottomless. At times, when the lighting was better, he swore something was down there. Some kind of plain or surface. He wished for a tricorder so he could find out for sure.

Still, he would have to be careful. Smashing into that something from 100 meters up couldn't satisfy his curiosity.

After what seemed hours, he made out a faint light source and decided to set out in that direction. As he approached, he realized what was causing the extra brightness. A collection of light beams lay directly ahead of him-----just like the beam he had been suspended in before he found himself on the pathway.

And something very big was spinning high above those lights. The Andorian couldn't discern what it was from this far away, but it made him uneasy. His antennae began to rotate instinctively from his heightened agitation.

What he found several minutes later, only increased that agitation tenfold.

Heedless of his own safety, Adol sprinted forward as he saw the crumpled form that was strewn across the path in front of him.

He knelt on the surface and slowly rolled over the disheveled body of Douglas Pal.

Pal's face was ashen, and coated with fine perspiration.

Desperately, Adol felt for a pulse and was relieved to find his friend alive. But not in good health. Pal's heartbeat was weak, and he appeared delirious.

"Doug!" Adol said loudly. "Doug, wake up!"

"So sorry," Pal groaned to some unseen phantom. "Didn't know, we didn't know. God, don't let them take me again..." His eyelids fluttered and he convulsed once before lapsing into semi consciousness.

Adol felt his heart nearly break in his chest. Who would do this to his friend? He knew by looking around that the Dominion were not behind this. This whole display of surrealism had too much finesse for such a crude, malevolent species.

No, this was something else. He had always trusted his instincts, even back in the days when he was a spoiled alcoholic who had fancied himself a poet. Those instincts now told him that a few Jem'Hadar soldiers would look pretty good compared to whatever might be waiting for him.

Adol decided to revive Pal again. If the damage was mostly psychological, then he might stand a chance of getting Pal back on his feet. Whatever those lights ahead were, he might find answers there. And in any case, there was no place else to go. He couldn't wander back and forth along this insane footpath until dying of thirst. If there were any hope it all, communication with whatever beings were holding them was essential. Besides, Pal needed medical attention and soon.

He raised Pal's head gently, and then spoke in a commanding tone. "Pal! Pal! Can you hear me? It's Adol. Wake up, Doug."

His eyelids fluttered open, closed, and then opened again. Adol felt his pulse began to steady into a consistent rhythm.

"Adol." Pal repeated hoarsely.

"Yes, it's me. Doug, I need for you to get up. We need to walk out of here. Doug, can you hear me?"

"Can't." Pal slurred. "They will come again. They're everywhere, you know."

Adol leaned closer, his voice holding a steady kind of urgency. "Who? Doug, who are they? Who are these aliens?"

"Adol, you know you've always been a pain in the ass. You never cleaned up after yourself. How could I bring a girl back to our dorm room?"

Adol spoke even louder, cradling Pal's chin in one hand. "Doug, who are these creatures? Do you know who they are?"

All at once, Pal's eyes became giant white circles. Sitting upright he yelled at the top of his lungs-----yelled into the dark above him with all the pain and helplessness of a frightened child.

"THE INTH! THE INTH!"

* * * * *

Lieutenant Perboda finally got within a few dozen meters of the light beams and he couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him.

All of the winding pathways converged upon a massive circular platform. Surrounding the platform, and standing between each pathway, were the pillars of blue green light he had seen from a distance. The pillars reached high into the darkness, touching upon some large object, which was spinning slowly.

Incredibly, Perboda saw hundreds of people standing on the huge platform, just under the object.

They were Intrepid's crew-----with more approaching from different directions. Many looked dazed, some looked frightened. He saw a few carrying their shipmates in their arms. They all seemed drawn to the pillars of light like insects to a flame.

He didn't know if the captain was here, but he should find him immediately.

He had to shake Aubrey's hand.

Again with that crazy thought! Where was this urge coming from? It didn't make sense and the desire was distracting him from his duties. He rubbed his temples, feeling his pulse start to boil.

But this time, instead of deserting him, the strong craving only became more powerful. He seemed to fall into an empty well, his desire and anger and fear all merging into a dark prison-----a cage from which he could only observe events, but not interact with anything. He was two separate people now. The other him had effectively hijacked his normal intents-----short circuiting his self control with complete efficiency.

He was sick and tired of waiting. This opportunity would not pass him by.

Grinning fiercely, the Orion made his way down to the crowd.

* * * * *

Captain Hiroko materialized on the transporter stage and was greeted by the red alert klaxon.

She tapped her combadge. "Hiroko to bridge. Report!"

Someone who sounded like a first year cadet answered back. "Ma'am, long range sensors show three Keldon class Cardassian destroyers on an intercept course."

"Go hot all weapons and raise shields if they aren't up already!" She dove out of the transporter room and ran a few yards before realizing she didn't know the layout of this ship, having just set foot on it. She decided to hit the first turbo lift she saw, then ask the computer for directions if that didn't work.

"Put me through to Admiral Jellico." She added on the run.

"He's already on channel, ma'am."

Hiroko slid into a turbo car and ordered it to take her to the bridge. She was rewarded with a hum as the cab accelerated into motion.

Jellico's voice came over her badge. "Captain, we have company. It seems we won't be leaving you behind after all. Put the Sentry back into formation and get ready for warp."

"Sir, we have six ships. We outnumber the enemy two to one."

"Negative. Our task force is in no shape for combat, even with the odds on our side. I don't like retreating again any more than you do. You have no idea how much I hate it, in fact." There was a pause, as Jellico was obviously trying to piece together his failing composure. Then his voice came back strong and determined as ever. "They'll be another day, Captain. I give you my word on that. But for now, follow orders and prepare to withdraw."

She wanted another shot at those bastards. She wanted to dish out some of the misery that had been inflicted on her and her comrades.

But she was weary-----weary down to her bones. She didn't have the energy to argue with Jellico even if she thought she could win the exchange, and her common sense told to not even bother trying. He was an admiral after all, and one of the most stubborn men she had ever met. There was a better chance of dancing on the surface of a neutron star than getting Jellico to change his mind after it was set.

She managed an "Aye, sir." just as she walked onto Sentry's bridge. She was momentarily surprised by the small size of the control room. Nebula class starships were notorious for their confined spaces. This design had been conceived when Starfleet engineers were going through their Spartan phase of sacrificing space for efficiency.

Well, who cared? This was a temporary posting anyway, right?

She had intended to take the captain's chair with no aplomb or ceremony. She would demonstrate to this crew that she was a decisive leader who had no qualms about taking over an unfamiliar vessel.

She came very close to sitting on top of a white rose that had been placed conspicuously on the seat. Beneath the rose was a congealed puddle of blood that covered nearly half the cushion-----a sobering reminder that the rightful master of this ship was permanently absent.

Aware that discreet eyes were evaluating her, Hiroko walked away from the makeshift shrine and asked the operations officer for an update on ship systems. After hearing the ensign's report, she turned to the CONN officer.

"Let's get under way. Those Cardassian destroyers will be here soon."

"Message from the Nagasaki, ma'am." Someone to her left announced.

"On screen."

Jellico's face appeared. "Captain, our sensors show something is emerging from the Kokala nebula. Some kind of energy wave just broke free and is heading our way."

"Can you tell what's causing it?"

"No, we just know it originated from inside the nebula. Our Cardassian friends out there are changing course to investigate."

Hiroko was about to make a wise crack about Cardassians having no interest in new discoveries-----until she remembered that some of the best scientists in the galaxy were Cardassian.

But why would a military vessel show curiosity about something like this? Especially during a war?

Of course. Because the Cardassians were closer. Their sensors would have more detailed information. It was possible they knew something that the Starfleet crews didn't. Something that might give them an advantage.

"Admiral, I recommend we hold position. We should see what that phenomenon is. If it's attracted the attention of the Cardassian military, then it's worth having a look at for ourselves."

Jellico nodded gravely. "I was thinking the same thing. But be ready to alter your heading. That disturbance is coming our way, and it might be dangerous. The Nagasaki's sensors are more powerful than the Sentry's, so we'll share our data feed with you."

Hiroko acknowledged and switched off the channel. She made arrangements for the helm officer to execute a warp jump at a moment's notice, then made sure the Nagasaki's sensor data was displayed on the main viewer.

Satisfied that the ship was ready for trouble, she walked the bridge, waiting for new developments.

A few minutes crawled by as the strange energy wave approached. As it came closer, the disturbance began to break up, spreading outward into space like a melting comet.

Hiroko viewed the sensor data, noticing that the wave was slowing down as it neared the Starfleet ships, dropping to only one quarter sublight speed.

"Ma'am," the CONN officer exclaimed, "the Cardassians are firing on the energy wave!"

"What the hell?" She blurted. "Extreme magnification! Let's see what they're shooting at."

What appeared on the view screen left Caroline Hiroko speechless for the first time in her life.