[ Act One ]

Sina was quite proud of herself. What seemed to be a trivial task was a big step for her. She managed to navigate the Synergy interface in her quarters to book a nearby function hall that was typically used for diplomatic delegations and receptions. She further sent a message with the appointment to all members of her crew. All of this without help, and by doing it the hard, manual, way instead of simply telling the computer what to do.

This simple step significantly lightened her mood, giving her the feeling that the Synergy’s technology was just that, technology, and not some arcane magic. This experience gave Sina a more than welcome morale boost, and gave her the confidence that, if her crew chose so, they eventually would be able to learn and understand their hosts’ technology.

Now she sat on a quite comfortable chair in the function hall, whistling a simple happy tune, and waited for the rest of her people. She checked the clock on the PADD in her hand. Still six minutes to go. The Romulan crossed her legs, putting her right ankle on her left knee, while grabbing the mug with her iced coffee. It wasn’t Vulcan Mocha, but good enough for now.

The Commander had just taken a large sip from her beverage when she heard voices and footsteps from the entrance. She turned her head and saw Niko and a couple other officers and enlisted personnel walk towards her. “Hello Sina. I see you can already sit again. Did you fabricate a new behind in the meantime, or what’s your secret?” He asked teasingly, hinting at the PT this morning that focused excessively on the gluteal muscles and lower back.

“Well, maybe I’m just better at sports than you? But if you feel you’re getting too old for this, maybe I can find the form for early retirement.” Sina quipped, earning some grins and snickering from several of the other officers despite Niko only being two years older than Sina.

“You wish! You’re not getting rid of me this easily!” Her XO teased back, a happy laughter on his lips as he sat on the chair next to his captain. “So, what’s this meeting about?”

“You’ll know soon enough.” The Romulan replied. “We’re waiting for everyone to get here. I’d like to avoid having to repeat myself to every group of people trickling in.”

During the next couple minutes more and more members of the Sidereal’s crew were arriving in the massive chamber with the small circle of chairs. At one minute before the designated start time of the meeting the last group arrived, led by Shori and Visra.

Sina smiled happily when she saw her science officer. Today the young Alusi was already looking much better, and even had a slight smile on her lips. Shori had told her of Visra’s PTSD and nightmares, which had worried the Romulan quite a bit. When Jeffrey had been released from the Synergy’s medical custody she had asked him to give Visra some priority since she appeared to be worse off compared to the rest.

Once everyone was present and seated, Commander D’raxis rose from her chair and walked into the center of the small circle. “Hello everyone! I’m overjoyed to finally see you all back in action. Some of you had me really worried for a time. But I asked you here today because there’s an important decision we must make rather sooner than later. It’s a decision that will affect us all permanently, for better or for worse.”

She took a deep breath before she continued. “Five days ago, the Synergy’s leader, Matriarch Chiaxi, offered us extended hospitality. She also gave us three options regarding how we want to spend our time here. I thought long and hard about how to answer to this, but the more I thought about it the more it became clear to me that this is not a decision I can make alone. Instead, this is a decision we have to make together.”

Sina tapped on her tablet and brought up the list with the options. She did remember the different points by herself, but just wanted to make sure that she didn’t forget or omit anything. “The three options we were given are as following…”

“Number one, we pick an inhabitable planet and just stay there. The planet could be already colonized or isolated. We would stay planet-side until, if ever, their scientists figure out a way for us to get home again.”

“Number two, we pick one of their ships to stay on. We’d become a relatively minor part of any of their vessel’s crew, basically permanent diplomatic guests. We’d go where their ship goes, and generally accompany them on their tasks.”

“Number three, we get the Sidereal repaired and upgraded to a state where they would allow us to move around in their territory. We could go wherever we’d like, under the condition that we follow their rules, and don’t mess up their things or ruin their diplomatic relationships.”

The Commander took a few steps and dropped her PADD on her empty seat to get both hands free. “To me, each of these options has its own benefits and drawbacks. Each of these options will change how we will be able to experience this galaxy, and what we will be able to do. But the decision is not mine alone to make. So, what do you guys think? Speak freely.”

The gathered crew looked at each other in contemplative quietude, everybody thinking about which option they’d like the most. Everyone was looking around at everyone else, trying to sort out their thoughts and emotions about the Commander’s question.

Finally, Duncan was the first to answer. “Captain, I think we should go for option three. The sooner we’re back on our own ship and back in control of ourselves the better. I don’t like being so helpless, completely at some unknown empire’s mercy. Even though they tell us we were guests, I feel more like a prisoner. Every time we want to go anywhere not around the corner, we need to ask our wardens nicely to take us there. Right now, we’re not in control of ourselves, or our ship, or our weapons.”

Several other crew members supported the Scottish officer’s position, and briefly clapped for him, but it quickly died when others started voicing their dissent. The group erupted into discussions and shouts that abruptly stopped when Sina’s shrill whistle echoed through the chamber. “Guys, please. I want everyone to speak freely, and don’t want anyone getting shouted down. Next.”

Quickly Noriko raised her voice. “I think we should choose option number one. We know absolutely nothing about this galaxy. Who’s to say that they are telling us the whole truth? If we travel on one of their ships, or fly around on the Sidereal, we only risk getting involved in events that are far beyond our abilities. I know for sure that I don’t want to stumble into a border war fought with weapons that are a thousand years more advanced than ours, or something like that. If we stay on a safe planet in the center of their territory, we minimize the risk of being drawn into something over our heads.”

“Then we’d be sitting ducks, even more exposed and helpless than we’re now.” Crewman Al-Tammar remarked.

“It wouldn’t matter.” T’Sai interjected. “I studied whatever information I was able to acquire about their vessels. They outrun, outgun, and generally outclass the Sidereal in all categories. They are faster, more resilient, and much better armed than our ship. And I’m talking about at least one full order of magnitude. To put it that way, our defensive capabilities would really be unable to withstand them. And there is reason to assume that the other major powers possess equal tactical abilities. After all, they were able to withstand the Borg’s onslaught for a prolonged period.”

“Assuming they tell us the truth. Still, we’d be easy prey for any random pirate, mercenary, or rogue agent coming our way.” Haroun replied. “It doesn’t have to be the Synergy that’s coming for us. Just like Noriko said, we know nothing about this reality. We don’t know how safe their space really is. I’d feel much safer if we at least had the chance to get out of the way and run for it if we have to, instead of sitting on our asses and wait that our generous hosts come and protect us.”

Now Jeffrey joined the discussion. “Okay, let’s assume for a second that we picked option one. We select a nice habitable planet someplace away from all borders. They build a small settlement for us with all the luxuries we want. We have power, computing, some fabricators, even a couple of holodecks to waste our time in. They even station a sphere or cube in orbit to protect us from any flyby harassment. Then what?”

“Uhm… I… I guess we wait?” Haroun replied.

“What do we wait for?” The counselor’s voice echoed slightly in the chamber. Everyone else was quiet, searching for an answer, while the dark-skinned Junior Lieutenant looked around him. “Let me ask again. We have our safe, perfect little village. What do we wait for? And what’s even more important: what do we do the whole day? Are you really telling me you all could idly sit on your butts for years, maybe even decades, to come? No, I don’t believe that for one second.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “You would probably go crazy on that planet. Nothing to do, nothing to discover, nothing to learn. If that was what you wanted, why did you sign up for Starfleet in the first place? If that was what you wanted, why didn’t you step down from the assignment to the Sidereal, and ask to be transferred to a space station or planet-side facility near the core worlds? I can tell you why. Because you wanted to do something for your people and those around you. Because you wanted to explore the galaxy. Because you wanted to learn what’s out there.”

Jeffrey was about to continue, when suddenly the voice of a young woman cut him off. “Sorry to interrupt you counselor, but…” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Julia, curiously waiting for her to continue. “…I know you try to motivate us and all, and your speech is really inspiring… but shouldn’t we focus on the situation at hand, on the facts?”

“Of course, we should. I never said or implied anything contrary.”

“But you’re trying to convince us to pick options two or three…” The young maintenance engineer concluded.

“You think so?” The counselor asked.

Junior Lieutenant Vossler and several others nodded in response. “Yes.”

Jeffrey looked around him, focusing those who were doubting him. “I’m not trying to convince you to pick any particular option. I’m trying to dissolve your misconceptions about where and how we would be safe. The only right answer to that is… nowhere. Wolf 359. USS Odyssey. USS Voyager. Romulus. USS Anastasia. IKS Hor’Cha. We will all die eventually. Maybe in this reality, maybe in our own. Maybe sooner, maybe later. That’s most likely not up to us to decide.”

He now stood from his chair, and slowly paced in a circle to face every single member of their crew. “But what we can decide is what we do until that very moment. We can decide to either sit on a planet and wait for our fate to come to us, or we can take to the stars and do what we swore to do. Boldly go where no one has gone before. We have a whole new galaxy with undiscovered wonders out there and are offered the tools to explore it.”

The black-skinned Human stopped in front of Julia. “If I had to choose only for myself, I would pick option two or three without hesitation. We are privileged to experience sights and events that our colleagues back home would call impossible, illusions, or some Q shenanigans. Why would we squander this unique opportunity? What if it takes the Synergy a few decades to figure out a way to send us back? Imagine returning home after all those years, and having to tell that we haven’t seen anything, and hadn’t gone anywhere.”

The whole assembly was watching Jeffrey, several of the gathered crew looking around and to the ground slightly embarrassed by his words.

“I know you’re all scared.” He continued, turning to look his colleagues in the eyes. “I know for sure I am. I have a four-year-old girl at home. The mere thought of never seeing her again is tearing me apart. But am I losing hope because of being stranded here, far away from her and her mother? No, I’m not. Because I know that if I ever decide to crawl into some hole and wait for someone else to come and rescue me, that I’ve given up on them. Given up on myself.”

“In the end we all have to face our inner demons alone. Friends and family can only bolster us for that fight. And just like that you must make up your own minds on what you really want to do here, while your CO and our new friends try to find a way back home. We can’t linger on the past forever. At some point we must stop looking back, but instead focus on what’s ahead of us.”

Junior Lieutenant Brassfield took a deep breath after his speech and quietly returned to his seat, while the rest of the crew contemplated his words. Sina had watched him with a raised eyebrow, exchanging several curious gazes with both Niko and Rel. Finally, after a few more minutes of awkward silence, the CO stood again and picked up her PADD. She refrained from remarking on the counselor’s words to avoid influencing her crew.

“Any further comments or suggestions?”

No one spoke up, and many were shaking their heads no.

“Okay then.” She tapped a few controls on her tabled and set the device into poll mode. “In that case, I’d ask you to vote for the option you personally agree with most. The PADD is set to anonymous voting mode, so I will not be able to see who voted for which option or when a given vote was cast. Please take the device, take a few steps outside the circle, and cast your vote with the back turned to us to ensure it remains secret.”

Having given her explanation, she quickly handed the device over to a random member of her crew that was nearby, who quickly followed the procedure and made their vote. One by one, all sixty-eight members of the Sidereal’s crew took the PADD, stepped outside the circle, cast their vote, and then returned. Sina received the tablet last, getting it handed to her by her XO. They locked eyes for a second, before the Romulan stepped away from the group and tapped the square labeled “3” on the screen.

The counter flashed as it jumped from sixty-seven to sixty-eight. The Commander returned into the circle with swift steps and faced her crew again. “The device shows sixty-eight votes were cast. For the record I’m required to ask, has anyone not voted yet?”

No one spoke up. She nodded in confirmation and tapped on the tablet’s screen to show the actual numbers. The result was clear.

OPTION VOTES

[ 1 ] 09

[ 2 ] 05

[ 3 ] 54

“The vote is unambiguous. Option one, nine votes. Option two, five votes. Option three… fifty-four votes.”

A haze of murmurs and mumbling grew in the gathering, while the captain handed the tablet to the XO. Niko looked at the tablet and made a few taps to check the raw votes. After a few moments he returned the device.

“As the first officer I concur with the stated numbers.”

Sina breathed a sigh of relief. “The vote has been decided and validated. I’ll inform the Synergy of our decision. Dismissed.”

[ Act Two ]

Niko was slowly walking down the corridor on deck four running along the port-side catamaran fuselage that connected the Sidereal’s primary hull to the nacelle pylons and the weapon pod. All around him were dozens of Synergy engineers busy removing panels, disassembling empty crew quarters, and stripping out power conduits and energy lines. He saw many species he knew, and several that were foreign to him. Many had visible cybernetic components, but not all of them. Some were completely ignoring him, while a few nodded or even smiled at him.

It was a strange feeling. He had spent so many years on this ship, first under Captain Shelen Ch'iveran, then under Commander Sina Phaio Gallagher-D’raxis. And now their little home away from home was dismantled and eviscerated, illuminated only by the working engineers’ deployed photon generators, before she could be reborn in new glamorous grandeur.

Thinking of his former Captain, the German let out a soft sigh. Shelen, one of most ripped Andorians Niko had ever seen, was a strong and strong-willed, honest, and good-hearted man. To people not knowing him, his bear-like stature looked intimidating, even dangerous, but he cared about his crew as if they were family. It had been his initiative to weld the crew together with regular group activities, and his encouragement for everyone to pick up a creative hobby like painting or poetry to not only hone their physique but also sharpen their minds.

But just as Niko could remember his former CO’s command, he remembered his death almost one and a half years ago. At that time Sina had been onboard for eighteen months, replacing their first XO who went home to have a child. Two neutral alien nations were at the brink of war because of escalating border tensions. The Sidereal was trying to mediate peace negotiations between the two delegations, when one ambassadorial assistant committed a suicide bombing during the welcome meeting in the starboard observation lounge on deck six.

The chemical explosion destroyed the lounge, broke through the inner and outer hull, killed the Captain and both delegations, and left Sina with third degree burns on most of her body. Niko could still clearly remember how he was on the bridge while his CO and XO opened the negotiations in the mess hall, when suddenly a dull thump echoed through the ship and the hull breach alarm klaxon sounded.

When he arrived on deck six a few minutes later after coordinating the initial responses, he stepped onto a battlefield. The observation lounge was destroyed. The large window front was simply… gone, replaced by the flickering emergency force fields that had sprung up moments after the detonation. The ceiling and floor were gaping holes, with the explosion’s devastation spreading to the decks above and below. Shori stood in the middle of the ravaged hall and looked at him, wordlessly shaking her head.

The alien nations went to war with each other within the hour and launched their arsenal of impulse powered kinetic impactors and warp powered nuclear warheads at each other, while Sina was fighting for her life in sickbay. It took Co-Yor four whole days to stabilize her condition. Only half a year later was the whole mess cleaned up, the investigations concluded, and Sina returned to duty. It was then when she was promoted to acting captain of the Sidereal, and he became her first officer.

Collecting his thoughts, Niko took a deep breath to bring his focus back to the present. A weak smile appeared on his lips as he remembered the time under Sina’s command before the accident that stranded them here. Despite the issues they sometimes had, and despite the often challenging and difficult missions, he longed for those easier times.

Looking up, he noticed he had stopped in front of his quarters. Out of habit he reached for the control panel to open the doors, when he remembered that the Sidereal was already powered down and he had to use the manual override. He looked at the black panel and breathed a sigh of indignation.

Tarik had explained that the current systems installed on the Akira class were fundamentally incompatible with modern Synergy technology. If their vessel was ever to return to a mission ready state, she’d have to be completely cleaned out and reconfigured with Synergy equipment. And that meant that everything that was currently inside the ship’s torn and tattered hull had to be removed. Every replicator console, every LCARS terminal, every backup fusion reactor, every power coupling.

Niko began stripping off the panel on the wall right next to the doors. Usually the manual release overrides were secured by activation triggers that immediately notified security if someone started operating one. But without power those systems wouldn’t cause him any problems. He took the manual handle from its bracket and struggled for a few moments to connect it to the door’s hydraulic pump. Looking at the handle, he let out a sigh and started the tedious process of pumping open the door to his quarters.

He had not gotten even one fifth of the way when he suddenly heard heavy footsteps approaching and saw a shadow next to him. A deep baritone voice asked him. “Can we be of assistance?”

Niko looked up and saw a Teplan engineer looking down at him. The man wore the typical baggy engineering attire the Human had seen so often on Tarik, consisting of dark gray cargo pants and a reinforced vest with many compartments. The engineer’s right arm was a somewhat bulky cybernetic extension, whose end was covered in a dozen thin, segmented, metallic tentacles.

Lieutenant Commander Heisenberg shook his head. “No, I’m just trying to get into my old quarters. I’m almost done, but thank you for your offer.”

“It will be more efficient to use my kinetic actuator.” The Teplan stated flatly and knelt next to Niko. Before the XO could protest, the Synergy engineer placed his cybernetic arm near the override control. After a moment the tentacles shot out and grasped the handle, operating it so quickly that the door opened in less than a second.

Niko looked at the now motionless handle, and how the engineer retracted the tentacles of his arm tool and stood, then his gaze traveled to the Teplan’s human-like face. He rose to his feet. “Thank you.”

The Synergy engineer simply nodded quietly, turned around, and slumped away with the same heavy footsteps with which he had approached less than a minute before.

Shrugging his shoulders, and shaking his head, the XO turned to the now open door and stepped into his former quarters. Light from the nearest photon generator flooded into the rooms, lighting them up with a soft and equal warm white glow. Niko stepped into his old living room, chuckling at his thoughts of cleaning up the mess caused by the accident.

Books, PADDs, and various other items laid scattered across the ground. Several fragile objects, mostly gifts from his crew mates and his own not quite so astounding attempts at pottery from a couple years ago, had been shattered into heaps of pieces. The couch was turned upside down at the other end of the room, and the rest of the furniture didn’t fare much better.

Slowly he made his way into the bedroom, where his wardrobe had decided to vomit all his clothes all over the floor and bed. Niko looked at the mess and shook his head. He picked his traveling bag from amidst the chaos and started to search for the few pieces of clothing and other personal items and possessions that were not standard issue, or generic replications.

While he was packing his bag, his expression gradually became filled with sorrow more with every item. To him it felt as if he was cleaning out his old life, throwing away all his past. Niko knew it was a silly notion, but that helped him little with his emotions every time he decided to leave any individual object behind for the recycling crews.

After a few minutes he was done in the bedroom. The XO carried his bag back to the devastated living room. Sorting through the rubble, Niko found the remains of a broken tournament trophy. He carefully sorted the razor-sharp glass shards, and roughly pieced it together until he could read the laser engraving.

USS SIDEREAL - 89219.7

7TH ANNUAL TEAM VELOCITY TOURNAMENT

2ND PLACE

GOLDSMITH, HEISENBERG, JACKSON, KUSUHN, T’SAI, VOSSLER

The Lieutenant Commander let out a sentimental sigh, carefully nudging the shards. This trophy was one of two he had ever won in team competitions. He suspected the universe somehow conspiring against him, because no matter which sport he chose, and who his team mates were, he often seemed to lose. But thinking of the other reward made him look around and search for it, and after a few moments he found the solid brushed aluminum cube with ten-centimeter-long sides. He picked it up with a smirk and weighted the piece of metal in his hand while reading the inscription.

USS SIDEREAL - 87721.6

9TH ANNUAL PARRISES SQUARES TOURNAMENT

2ND PLACE

BAAZUD, DRARR, HEISENBERG, NEIRREK

Niko stood and dropped the cuboid trophy onto the pile of clothes in his traveling bag. He went searching for the metallic box where he kept his stone carving tools. He had replicated the kit after trying the trade during one of the demonstration and exchange days three years ago. But even though the craft itself and the items he had made held some personal value for him, the tools were completely replaceable. Without hesitation he picked up the box, opened it, and added its content to the chaos on the ground.

Once the box was cleaned out, he returned to the pile of shards that had once been a team velocity tournament trophy. Carefully Niko picked up the large splinters one by one, and placed them in the padded container, hoping they would survive the journey in a form that allowed the glass plate to be restored. After he had stowed the last shard, Niko took great care to place the metallic box in his bag in a position that he hoped would keep the shards at least somewhat safe.

The XO looked around whether he had missed anything he’d like to keep, taking almost two hours to seek and sort carefully through the remains of his previous life. So many keepsakes had gotten broken beyond repair, he couldn’t completely prevent a single tear sneaking out. So many memories were destroyed during their freak accident. He managed to garner a few more fragments and tokens, and a couple of PADDs with pictures, logs, and messages, before his bag was filled to the brim.

He stood in the middle of the living room, looking at the remains of his previous possessions, when a sudden chuckle from the direction of his quarter’s entrance drew his attention. “If you were a junior officer I’d have to reprimand you for the disorderly state of your quarters. But it’s good to see I’m not the only one who’s given up on cleaning up the mess.”

Niko turned around only to see Shori standing in the still open door, leaning against the frame and grinning from side to side. “Very funny.” He replied with a smirk. “We both know that if I was a junior officer, this wouldn’t be my quarters.” He watched his colleague slowly make her way towards him. The Caitian’s graceful steps easily carried her over broken items and around overturned furniture. “So, how much did you manage to salvage?”

She looked at him, a shadow of sadness briefly crossing her face. “Not much. My mimetic polyalloy one-piece swimsuit I won on Risa a couple years back. The hand-carved piece of Salish root I received from that village on Atrea IV. A holocrystal showing a family gathering last year. Some PADDs with personal letters and such. Oh, and the brushed aluminum cube trophy for third place in last year’s velocity tournament. Of all the pieces it was that thing which survived without a scratch. The rest’s either trashed or not worth packing since it’s replaceable.”

The chief of security shrugged. “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Niko turned to Shori. “What do you mean? Are you not sad that you lost things reminding you of home?”

“Of course, I am. When I found the holocrystal with my dead brother’s last recording shattered, I bawled my eyes out. That is a memory dear to me lost, which I’ll never get back. But we must not linger on what we’ve lost. We can’t undo what’s happened. We can only try to make the best of the situation and make ourselves a new home here. We’ve got to bet on tomorrow, not count on yesterday.”

The Lieutenant Commander breathed a soft murmur. “Hmmm. Guess you’re right.” And then he added with a grin. “Has anyone ever told you that you sound suspiciously like Jeffrey when talking like this?”

Shori burst out into a loud and honest laughter. “Any similarities with active ship counselors are entirely coincidental.” She chuckled, before continuing. “But yes, I’ve been talking with Jeffrey quite a bit since he came back. It’s great to have someone to confide in. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you or Sina, but-”

The XO waved his hands. “I know what you mean, no need to justify yourself. Anyway, I’m ready to leave. How about we go back and grab a snack?” He carefully put the carrying sling over his shoulder, making sure he didn’t throw the bag around too much.

“Snack sounds great. I’ve skipped lunch since I was so busy. Oh, speaking of which… Hiora asked me to tell you that she gathered a sufficient number of PADDs and distributed them amongst the crew.” The Caitian replied, following Niko out of his quarters with swift elegance.

“Good, thanks for the heads up. I think giving the crew the chance to start having personal logs again will take off some of the edge they currently feel.” The first officer replied as they left his accommodation. Before they left for the temporary transport hub the Synergy had set up on this deck with independent power supply, Niko headed for the nearest engineer. “Excuse me?” He asked and waited until the Human cyborg turned around and mustered him, the structural analyzer covering the engineer’s left eye blinking dispassionately with the same boring rhythm.

The Human engineer mustered the interruption for a moment, then spoke with a surprisingly soft and youthful voice that seemed to belie his apparent age. “Yes? What can we do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve cleaned out my quarters over there of any personal items I want to keep. Everything that is still in there can be removed or recycled or whatever.”

The Synergy technician nodded. “Understood. I’ve relayed the information to the disassembling teams. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

Niko shook his head. “No, that’s all. Thank you.”

Once the engineer returned his attention to his tasks at hand, the XO also turned back towards Shori. As they walked, he noticed that in the last few hours the Synergy crews had made significant progress. Much of the deck looked deserted and empty, with most interior walls and panels removed, exposing the empty spaces and notches that until recently had contained power and computing lines. The XO and COS quickly departed the Sidereal to escape the morose atmosphere that seemed to have seeped into every corner of the ship.

[ Act Three ]

“My apologies for the delay. My discussion with Lieutenant Neirrek took longer than I anticipated.” T’Sai quickly stepped through the door into Duncan’s quarters. Duncan simply nodded as the Junior Lieutenant passed him and locked the doors behind her. He followed the Vulcan into his living room where the other sixteen people were already waiting.

“We’re complete now.” Duncan announced, sitting on one of the chairs the group carried over from the dining room. “I guess the last week was… interesting… for all of use. Like last time, no ranks and everyone speaks freely.”

The guests looked at each other for a moment, then Shrass rose from his seat. The Andorian’s strong voice sounded through the room as he spoke. “I’d like to open on a positive note. I’m glad we have Jeffrey, Julia, Xoth, and the others back. The Synergy did keep their word. No implants, no nanites, and they still got our wounded well back on their feet. Given the circumstances, of course. It could have ended quite differently for our people if their ship had arrived only a few minutes later.” Many of the group nodded, and a soft murmur of agreement drifted across the expansive diplomatic quarters.

“I agree.” T’Sai added. “I’ve talked with Co-Yor about the treatments, and in his opinion the Synergy did an outstanding job. He’s received daily updates on the condition of our wounded and was involved in administering drugs and deciding on additional therapy. From his point of view there’s nothing to criticize about how they treated our people.”

“But there’s the issue with Jeffrey’s prosthesis…” Haroun now interjected.

“What about it? Should they have released him crippled and with a missing arm?” Shrass replied questioningly.

Crewman Al-Tammar sighed. “No, of course not. I never said they should have. But I talked with Jeffrey about it. They did exactly what I feared they would do.”

“And what would that be?” Duncan inquired.

“They told him that if he wanted to have a better, more naturally feeling, replacement or even get his organic arm back, he would have to accept nanite treatments.” The group, suddenly silent, looked at Haroun. “It’s exactly what I said in our last meeting they would try, and now they did it. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Jeffrey yourselves.”

A female Human Petty Officer from the back of the room spoke. “What’s so bad about pointing out options? Co-Yor also did it when I was seeing him about my broken shoulder two months ago. We don’t have to accept their offers if we don’t like them, do we?”

“That’s true, but the problem is we don’t have alternatives. With the Sidereal being gutted and rebuilt in their shipyard, we have lost all access to our own medical facilities. If there’s any complications or worsening conditions, we have no way of treating them ourselves.” Haroun explained his position. “Also, who’s to say that for example Jeffrey’s prosthesis will not develop regular malfunctions? Oh sorry, it doesn’t work when exposed to strong ultraviolet radiation, or in a magnetic field stronger than 100 microtesla, or whatever.”

Crewman Al-Tammar stood from his place on the large couch and walked in front of the accompanying table so that he could face the whole group at once. “You all know it yourselves. If an annoyance just keeps coming back again and again and again, after some time you’re willing to compromise on your principles just to get rid of it once and for all. In our current situation we have no way to defend ourselves against such underhanded tactics.”

Duncan sighed. “Haroun, you still think they were Borg trying to mess with our perception or free will? I mean, it’s been a whole week and there’s been no sign of any malign intent on their part.”

“I haven’t believably been convinced of the opposite.” The Crewman replied flatly, before returning to his seat. “Also, the ancestor simulation that attacked Picard made him go through several decades in less than half an hour. So whatever time we think we experienced is not a good measurement.”

“Neither am I convinced.” T’Sai came to Al-Tammar’s support. “The technology I’ve seen from them so far defies many well-established theories and principles in mathematics and several fields of physics. Their propulsion system alone violates half a dozen theorems and shouldn’t be possible at all. Tarik briefly explained it to me, and quite frankly, the mere idea is ridiculous. Projecting a fractal quantum field into a forming transwarp tunnel should not produce the observable result, and it certainly shouldn’t allow traveling at up to 1,000 light-years per hour.”

“Don’t forget they started with Borg technology from the late 24th century and have over a thousand years of development on top of that. With hundreds or even thousands of trillions of people who can cooperate in a gigantic hive-mind and exchange ideas at the speed of thought there is going to be some improvements.” Ensign Th’akianas reminded his peers.

“Fair enough. But there’s a different between improvements and fairy tales. Fairy tales like their power supply.”

“What’s the issue with their power supply?” Duncan asked curiously.

T’Sai looked at her colleague for a second with a raised eyebrow, then answered his question. “They are using Omega molecules.”

“Omega molecules? Never heard of that. What’s it supposed to be?” Haroun asked.

The Vulcan continued, a slight expression of indignation on her face. “I didn’t know either. Apparently, Omega molecules are extremely potent and volatile particles, synthesized from boronite ore in a complicated, expensive, and slow process. They can be an extremely potent source of energy once properly contained, but still have a small chance of spontaneous catastrophic destabilization. Such a violent and uncontrollable reaction not only releases immense amounts of energy, but also destroys subspace for several light-years around.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Shrass said shocked, his statement being half a question.

“No, I’m not. Supposedly the Synergy managed to figure out a way not only how to create Omega molecules in large quantities and how to properly contain them, but also to eliminate the spontaneous destabilization risk inherent to them. This apparently allows them to build reactors that generate three to four orders of magnitude more energy in default configuration than the Sidereal’s warp core could manage at highest possible parameters. However, that’s not even the worst part of it. I casually asked Commander D’raxis if she had ever heard of those molecules before. She hesitated to answer.”

Another Ensign, a male Human, from the far end of the couch interjected. “Oh, come on, that can mean anything! You can’t seriously be trying to tie that on our captain?”

T’Sai focused her cold gaze on the Ensign before she continued. “After a moment she said yes. Starfleet knows about Omega particles. She didn’t tell me much more than this, even though I suspect she knows more about this topic than she said. As potent as these particles appear to be as an energy source, as devastating they could be as weapons of war, and I’m absolutely convinced that SC, and Captain D’raxis, know exactly what an Omega molecule is capable of.”

“What the hell?!” Shrass shouted, his voice booming in the living room. “You’re pulling our legs, T’Sai. Do you know what you’re saying? That’s hard to believe!”

“I can assure you I’m not… pulling your leg. I also had… difficulties… accepting what Captain D’raxis’ words implied. I’ve done some simple estimations and found that a single destabilizing Omega molecule detonating near the Sol system could easily and permanently cut off Earth, Vulcan, and Andor from all known forms of FTL travel and communication.”

Suddenly the whole room had fallen silent and everyone looked at the Vulcan with a grave expression on their faces.

T’Sai continued with a lowered voice. “If we look at the history of Earth alone, it quickly becomes evident that everything that can be weaponized will be weaponized by someone eventually. Consider that Omega weaponry are the ultimate area denial devices. Target any sector, and everyone will take over a decade to get in, or out, or to anywhere inside.”

The Vulcan had barely finished speaking when the group exploded into a loud cacophony of arguing and discussion. The revelation that their captain had withheld such important information from them was challenging their convictions and felt like a slap in the face for many.

The arguments went on for a few minutes, before Duncan tried to restore some order. “Guys! Calm down! This doesn’t get us anywhere.” After the voices quieted down again, he turned to T’Sai once more. “So, let me get this straight. The technology the Synergy claims to possess is impossible, even in theory, by our understanding of physics. And their energy source is a prohibited technology that the Federation officially tries to eradicate due to its ability to double as a weapon of mass destruction on sector-scale. And our captain withheld that information from us since we got here?”

The Vulcan Junior Lieutenant nodded briefly. “That is correct. While I don’t completely want to deny the fact that it might be possible for them to indeed achieve such technological progress over the span of a thousand years, it all seems a little too convenient for a natural development. Given the mention of Occam’s Razor in our last meeting and how it would apply to our current situation, I’m now more inclined to think that there is some deception in place.”

“If that’s the case, what are we supposed to do about it? We can’t just sit and watch it happen!” Shrass responded, visibly agitated now.

“No, we can’t. And we won’t.” Duncan said with confidence and caution at the same time. “But for now, we need to be careful and passive. We’re not in a position where we can challenge anyone. Once we’re back in control of the Sidereal we’ll be much better off.”

“If we manage to hold out the next couple of months. Only then we’ll see how serious the Synergy really is about giving us our ship back.” Haroun remarked, sighing in frustration. “And if we manage to figure out who else could be on our side. I’ll give the captain that I like how she handled the vote. It was good on her part to make the decision not by herself, but let the crew decide. And that she didn’t participate in the discussions but only moderate it.”

Duncan and many others nodded in agreement, and some even voiced their assent, before he replied. “Yes, that was good. But we still should try to find out who of the senior officers is with us on this. Ideally, we should manage to convince the captain, but I doubt she’d listen to any of us. She seems far too busy making eyes at this engineer.”

T’Sai raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

“Tarik.” The Human Operations Officer continued. “Or [email protected] or whatever he’s called. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how much they hang out with each other? I’m not surprised they’d try and distract our CO from important matters. Maybe if we could get through to the XO or CTO or COS.”

“What about Jeffrey? He might be able to convince them more easily that something’s wrong.” A Bolian Lieutenant sitting on a chair behind the couch asked.

Both Duncan and Haroun shook their heads in unison, before the Crewman spoke. “I don’t think we can count on him. The thing with his arm definitively has him biased in the Synergy’s favor. And when I was talking to him he’s also mentioned that medic who treated him an awful lot. Sarowa or something like that. I think he’s in the same situation as the captain.”

Junior Lieutenant Clark continued. “If the counselor is out, then I think our best bet would be placed on the XO or CTO. They seem to not like the Synergy too much either. And I clearly remember how Niko tried to talk the captain out of allowing their engineering team onboard eight days ago. But we should still be careful with how we approach him. If we all come at him without solid proof he’ll probably throw us in loony bin for being out of our minds, or the brig for attempted mutiny. As you know, Niko is a by-the-book and mission-comes-first officer.”

He looked around, facing each of his sixteen colleagues one by one before he continued. “If there’s any way at all to get to him and convince him of our perspective, it’s by also doing things by-the-book. Anything else will probably move him closer to the CO, whom he considers a good friend. And nobody likes having a good friend accused of collaborating with an, from their perspective, invisible enemy. So, I think it’s best if we leave that to the people who are more senior and already have to regularly deal with Lieutenant Commander Heisenberg.”

Duncan took a deep breath. “Any objections or comments on that suggestion?”

Only Shrass spoke up. “Only one… good luck with it. But what if we can’t convince him or Lieutenant Neirrek?”

Haroun, T’Sai, and the others looked from the Andorian to their host inquisitively, who simply shrugged his shoulders before answering honestly. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to think of something else then. But there’s no use of worrying about that now. We’ll still have enough opportunities to think about it when we get to that point.”

The group fell quiet and most people contemplated what’s been said and discussed the last several minutes. The idea of mutiny was looming over their minds like Damocles’ sword, an uncomfortable and inconvenient thought. There’s been no mutiny on a Starfleet ship before, and the thought of being the first crew to rebel and rise against their CO sat wrong with many of them. But the facts were clear and out on the table. There was something strange going on, and they just could not all stand by idly and watch them run into their doom.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Duncan stood from his seat. “If there’s nothing more to discuss, I’d say we’re done for tonight. It’s been a long day for most of us.” He waited a couple more moments for someone to bring up a new topic, but when nobody did any many others also rose from their places, he concluded the meeting. “Good, good. Until next week then. Take care and stay vigilant. And if you notice anything suspicious, come see me or T’Sai ASAP.”

[ Act Four ]

Jeffrey touched the panel next to the doors of Visra’s quarter. A soft chirp sounded, followed by a long moment of silence. Eventually, Ensign Arsiv’s voice sounded through invisible speakers, carrying a careful tone. “Yes?”

“Hello Visra, it’s me, Jeffrey. I’m here for our appointment. May I come in?”

“Oh. Oh yes, of course. Open!” Visra sounded a bit surprised, but still ordered the controls of her accommodation to let in her colleague.

The doors quietly slid open, and Jeffrey stepped into Visra’s space, carrying only a small PADD in his hands. He slowly made his way from the entrance towards the living room, where he saw the young Alusi scientist sitting on the couch surrounded by a good dozen holographic displays.

“Sorry.” She looked up a little apologetically and smiled shyly. “I forgot the time.” With a flick of her left hand she dismissed all the displays, and the room felt significantly less crowded now than it had a moment before. The good dozen or so PADDs on the living room table remained, however, cluttering its surface with their colorful screens. “Can I get you something to drink?”

The counselor returned the smile and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll have a glass of water, please.”

Visra rose from the couch, the shift in weight causing a soft cascade of rainbow-colored light to shine through the room as the Tholian silk of the furniture’s cover refracted the warm ambient light. As she walked towards the spacious dining area containing the fabricator console, she turned to Jeffrey and gestured with her clawed hand. “Please, take a seat.”

Junior Lieutenant Brassfield waited for a second, then sat down on one of the armchairs opposite the low table. Only a few seconds later Visra returned with two large glasses of water in her hands. She carefully handed one glass to Jeffrey and placed the other one on her side of the table.

The black-skinned human took a sip on his drink, the cooled water feeling refreshing on his tongue, before also putting the glass down. He took a deep breath and looked at his patient, who was already gazing at him with a mixture of trepidation and hopefulness. “So, how are you doing, Visra?”

The science officer swallowed and responded with a soft voice that trembled ever so slightly. “I’m managing. When I can focus on my work or am occupied with learning about Synergy technology and science, I’m okay. But when I’m alone without something to keep me busy I get nervous and jumpy. I tried the focus exercises you showed me last time, and they help a little. Especially before going to bed.”

Jeffrey felt nothing but sympathy for his colleague. Visra had been under unimaginable stress during the accident, and now she unconsciously blamed herself for the situation the crew was in. Shori was correct with her layman diagnosis of Visra suffering from a case of PTSD and survivor’s guilt.

“I’m happy you tried the exercises we trained, and that they help you at least a little. But how well do you sleep? Did it get any better?” The counselor asked, closely watching her reaction to his question.

She just shook her head slightly. “It’s okay when I take the drugs Shori gave me. I tried it twice without them, and the nightmares came back each time. I know I shouldn’t rely on the medication too much, but when I don’t take them I’m a wreck in the morning.”

Jeffrey was troubled by that statement. He still vividly remembered how she described her nightmares. How she was going through the accident repeatedly in her dreams but failed to save the ship and caused her friends’ deaths or assimilation each time. He could only imagine how terrifying those experiences had to be for her.

“No worries Visra, you don’t need to justify yourself.” He quickly added. “If the drugs help you, then please keep taking them. There’s nothing to be gained by making it harder on yourself. But I ask you to go and see Co-Yor immediately if you feel unwell or sick after taking the pills, or if you notice any other side effects, okay?”

The young Alusi nodded with a weak smile. “Understood. But… can I ask you something?”

The black-skinned Human raised an eyebrow, but then smiled. “Sure, what do you want to know?”

Visra slowly raised her hand and pointed the claw of her index finger at his right arm. “How bad is it? Does it still hurt?”

Jeffrey was quite surprised by her question, curious that she managed the courage to talk about that topic, but answered it nonetheless. “It’s okay. It doesn’t feel quite like my real arm did before, but it allows me to do basically everything I could do before. The Synergy’s medics did an excellent good job with my treatments. The stump doesn’t hurt at all.”

He noticed immediately how her eyes welled up when he mentioned the word, stump. And before he could start another sentence, tears rolled over her purple and gray patterned cheeks. “I’m so sorry…” She whispered, tearing her gaze away from him.

The counselor stood from his chair and walked over to the distressed science officer. He sat next to her and offered her his left, normal, hand. “It’s okay, Visra. It’s really not your fault! I wager if it hadn’t been for your quick thinking we’d all be dead, and I take a prosthetic arm over being dead any day of the week. And I think my daughter will also prefer her daddy coming home with a robot arm, rather than not coming home at all, don’t you think?”

Slowly she opened her wet crimson eyes again, and reluctantly looked at his hand. The Alusi sniffled weakly and took his hand. A soft sob escaped her throat. “I’m such a mess…”

“No, no you’re not.” Jeffrey spoke with a calm and reassuring tone, his voice soft and deep. “You’re just going through a difficult time, but I’m here to help and support you. We all experience situations now and then that we are unable to face alone. There’s no shame in seeking help. There’s no benefit in letting a false sense of ego or pride prevent you from asking for support.”

He felt Visra weakly squeeze his hand, and he returned the squeeze a little more firmly. “And don’t feel bad about my arm. It looks worse than it is.” He offered her his other, prosthetic hand. “You can touch it if you want.”

The young scientist started at Jeffrey as if he had asked her to cut of his other arm as well. She blinked the lingering tears away, sniffling softly. “I… I don’t know…” Her gaze dropped to the dull silvery brushed metal hand hiding halfway underneath right sleeve of the counselor’s uniform jacket.

“You don’t need to worry. Everything’s alright. If you want to give it a try, we can do it. If you would prefer not to touch it, then that’s perfectly fine.” Jeffrey reassured her, still holding her hand in his left hand. “There’s no pressure, no expectations. The choice is completely up to you.”

“You… you’re not going to get mad?” She asked in a hushed voice while carefully and suspiciously eying the counselor’s metallic hand.

He squeezed her hand and laughed softly. “Of course not, Visra. I’m not mad at you now, and I promise you I will not get mad at you later. I just want to help you. I want to show you and help you understand that my prosthesis is nothing you need to be afraid or ashamed of. And that I don’t harbor any ill will or grudges against you for it.”

The Alusi took a deep breath, shuddering softly as she did, but then nodded. Gathering all her courage, she almost whispered. “I’ll do it.”

Jeffrey returned her nod and replied. “Okay. Just let me get my arm free.” He released her hand from his grasp and went to undo the bioelectric zipper of his jacket, wiggling his right arm out of the sleeve a moment later. Now his prosthesis was mostly uncovered, only the harness where it connected to the stump was still hidden by his undershirt.

Visra suddenly looked as if she’d seen a ghost, taken slightly aback by how casually Jeffrey was moving and handling his artificial arm. Her tiny sliver of confidence from a few moments before swept aside by another wave of self-doubt. The prosthesis looked so strange and foreign to her, and the more she looked at it, the more uncomfortable she felt. “Jeffrey…”

The black-skinned counselor moved the mechanical arm away from her. “It’s okay Visra. It’s okay. Don’t worry. Don’t look at my arm, look at my face. Look in my eyes. Everything’s fine.” His voice eventually calmed her down, and she visibly relaxed as she looked in his clear blue eyes. He even managed to lure a weak smile onto her face. “If you still want to try it, we can try something else. But if you want to stop, that’s perfectly fine. Just let me know when it gets too difficult for you, and we’ll stop immediately.”

The young scientist’s weak smile wavered, but she still managed to nod her agreement. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe it would be easier for you to close your eyes, and not look at my arm.” Jeffrey answered calmly. “Only if you think that could help you, of course.”

The Alusi focused the counselor with her eyes, and he could easily see her large light blue irises work back and forth while she contemplated his suggestion. After a few long moments of silence, she nodded and slowly closed her eyes. The ridges above her eyes shifted slightly as she closed her thick leathery eyelids, covering her crimson red sclera.

Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, Visra moved her hand closer and closer to where she remembered Jeffrey’s prosthesis to be. While she was gradually reaching for his arm, the Human held still, whispering words of encouragement and support. Finally, after almost four minutes of slow progress, hesitation, withdrawal, and again progress, the Alusi’s clawed fingertips finally brushed against the cool smooth metallic surface of his artificial limb.

A soft gasp escaped from Visra’s throat as she ran her fingers over the surface, feeling Jeffrey’s prosthesis for the first time since she saw it. It felt quite different than what she’d have expected. Instead of it being a crude, utterly cold, and raw mechanical apparatus, it turned out to be a highly sophisticated, well sculpted, and smoothly textured replacement.

“How does it feel?” He asked carefully, his voice sounding carefully optimistic.

“It’s… different from what I expected.”

“In a good or a bad way?”

“Good way. It feels much less like… a machine than I would have thought it would.” Visra softly replied.

Jeffrey let out a soft chuckle, the tender exploring touches of his colleague tickling him. “I’m glad to hear that. How would you feel if I told you that I can feel every touch of yours and you’re tickling me?”

She let out an embarrassed squeak and abruptly withdrew her hand. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him, stammering an apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

He simply shook his head. “Visra, it’s okay. No need to apologize.” He held his right arm out for her, close to her hands. “If you want you can keep touching it.”

The Alusi scientist took a deep breath, and her eyes jumped between Jeffrey’s face and his arm. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” She murmured.

“I’m fine Visra, don’t worry about me. This is all about how you feel.” The counselor smiled, hopefully offering his artificial hand to his colleague.

She looked at his open hand pensive for a long moment, but then took a deep breath and started to reach out again. Jeffrey held still and let Visra control the situation at her personal pace, not wanting to scare or pressure her into doing something she found disturbing. The scientist hesitated for a few more seconds, then carefully and slowly took his hand. This time it was a full handshake, palm on palm with fingers wrapping around, instead of only the tips tracing along the outside.

Visra looked somewhat miserable for the first few seconds of contact, but after some time her expression changed from stressed to neutral. She gently squeezed Jeffrey’s fingers, feeling the artificial extremity react under her touch. When she squeezed, the material gave a little, and almost felt as if she was squeezing metallic flesh. Not completely hard, but also not completely soft. When Jeffrey squeezed, she could feel simulated bones and sinews move, providing the illusion, and sensations she mused, of a normal humanoid hand.

“How do you feel now?” The counselor asked while holding hands with his patient.

“I… I think I feel a little better. It’s still scaring me to touch or even think of your arm, but it’s not as horrifying anymore, I believe.” Visra responded, her voice much less shaky than it was a few minutes ago.

“I understand. I’m really happy, and glad for you, that you managed to do this.” Jeffrey commented with a warm smile on his lips. “It might not seem like much to you, but you’ve taken a huge step towards overcoming your fears and guilt. I hope we can continue working on this and, at some point, start our sessions with a strong and steady handshake. What do you say?”

The young Alusi looked up at the black-skinned Human, a shy and weak, but hopeful, smile on her face. Thinking about the normalcy of shaking Jeffrey’s hand without breaking down in fear or being consumed by doubts sounded quite nice. She hoped that someday she could return to that. After a moment of contemplation, she finally replied. “Sounds good, I guess.”

“Sounds good.” He confirmed. Eventually he released the handshake. “Previously you mentioned keeping yourself busy with work and learning about the Synergy’s technology. If it’s okay for me to ask, I’d like to know if you’ve been keeping your sleeping schedule.”

Visra took a deep breath before she answered. The conversation between the counselor and his patient continued for more than forty minutes. Some of her answers worried Jeffrey, while others made him confident that she was making progress. Eventually, the session came to an end, and Jeffrey bid his goodbye. On the way back to his own quarters, he made a few more entries in Visra’s patient file, noting down the troubles and growth she’d told him.

[ Act Five ]

“Sir, I think you want to see this.” The young male humanoid said, his voice carrying a slightly concerned tone. The man’s skin was like black marble and shimmered like polished stone under the office’s ever-present lighting. The dark gray uniform on his body looked like a skin-tight ribbed tube, crossed by various loops and wires.

An older light-skinned humanoid with an already receding hairline looked up from the holographic display on his desk made from smooth pitch-black brushed metal. He wore the same, somewhat ridiculous looking tube-like uniform. “What is it, Agent Hlorix?”

“The defense grid detected an unexpected event, and the resulting changes are excessive. I have the data here.”

The older man let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh well, let’s see it.” With a slight flick of his right wrist the projection over his desk disappeared, and a split second later the whole room was filled with the flowing holographic strands and circles of the observatory. The man stood from his chair and walked into the middle of the array. Looking around, his face gradually became more and more worried, and the furrows on his forehead deeper and deeper.

“Are you kidding me?” He eventually exclaimed, turning to the other Agent. “This… how could we not see this coming earlier? This is a disaster!”

The dark-skinned humanoid cocked his head. “Unknown. The detection grid is working at full capacity, and a level two diagnosis shows no errors or interruptions.

The middle-aged human ran his hands through his short cut brown hair, looking at the interwoven strands and the bubbles surrounding them in desperation. He turned to his fellow Agent, pointing his right hand directly at him to emphasize his orders. “I want you to send this data immediately to TRU nineteen, the archives, and to all available incursion executors. In that order, understood? I’ll contact the director and try to explain why the Federation’s less than half the size it’s supposed to be.”

“Yes, Sir.” The young man’s strange uniform creaked slightly as he turned, and he left the office at a brisk pace.

Once Agent Danlen was alone in his office, he futilely threw his fist at the bubble indicating the origin of a massive temporal deviation. A massive bundle of causality strands and effect ribbons branched out from the small red sphere, cascading through the timeline like an unstoppable avalanche down the slope of a mountain. Timot glanced at the ruby-red sphere, once more reading the letters taunting him.

SOURCE OF TEMPORAL DISRUPTION

SUBJECT: NCC-69765 USS Sidereal

CAUSE: Quantum and temporal displacement by spacetime anomaly

EFFECT: 17,493,844 subsequent cascading disruptions

His gaze followed the strands, focusing on the thicker, more solid ones which indicated more serious disruptions of the timeline. The largest strand of them all was connected to the one name popping up again and again. Captain Sina Phaio Gallagher-D’raxis. Her absence created quite a chaos, and that was the understatement of the millennium.

Without her command, crucial battles in brooding border conflicts with the Tzenkethi as well as the Tholians were lost, encouraging several other mid-sized powers of the quadrant to try their luck and carve a sector or two out of the Federation’s territory. Without her decisions, the grandfather of the Starfleet engineer who would eventually discover a unified theory allowing the combination of transwarp and quantum slipstream into subspace slipstream, was never born. Without her presence, the membership negotiations with the fractured remains of the Romulan Star Empire failed, causing the Klingon Empire to withdraw their own application to the Federation as well.

The resulting changed timeline was a complete mess. The UFP was significantly smaller and weaker than it should have been. Instead of joining the Federation, the Klingon Empire turned on the remains of the RSE in a brutal conquest. Due to the lack of subspace slipstream, Starfleet never built and launched their first intergalactic missions. Diplomatic contact with the Kelvan Empire was not established, eventually leading to catastrophic results when they sent an invasion fleet to the Milky Way shy over 950 years from now.

Danlen took a deep breath to calm his nerves. After a long moment of trying to find his focus again, he waved his hand to dismiss the temporal observatory. The display vanished within the blink of an eye, only to be replaced by a holographic screen Timot conjured with a different gesture. “Computer, establish channel to FTA headquarters, Director’s office. Priority one, authorization Danlen-Three-Seven-Aleph-Nine-Nabla-Seven.”

The screen showed a stylized Federation logo, surrounded by the Federation Temporal Agency’s creed, “Tempora aptari decet.” Times should be adapted to. The temporal agent grinned grimly as he read the words while waiting for the channel to be established. Finally, after several long moments the communication channel was ready, and Director Xahs, and elderly Gorn with dark brown, almost black, scales and dim gold eyes appeared on the screen.

“Agent Danlen. You rarely use priority one, so I assume the business is urgent?” The Director spoke with the slight lips and the sharply pronounced “s” and “r” sounds so typical for his species.

“Yes Director, it is. We’ve just detected a massive temporal disruption that only showed up on our grid after it occurred. As far as we can tell it’s not an incursion by another time traveling power, nor is it a purely natural phenomenon which we could have detected earlier. We don’t know what caused it, but the disruption completely wrecked the timeline. Transmitting all available data now. I’ve sent Agent Hlorix to activate temporal response unit nineteen, as well as all available incursion commanders. But…”.

The Gorn narrowed his eyes. “Yes…?”

“Sir, I think we’re under attack.”

“What made you come to this conclusion, Agent Danlen?”

Timot took a deep breath. “This singular disruption caused damage on the same scale as the Temporal Cold War. The Federation is half the size it should be, and the Romulans and Klingons are not members. Starfleet will not build and launch the USS Phaio to carry a delegation to the Kelvan Empire, and because we thusly don’t establish permanent diplomatic contact they’ll send an invasion fleet in less than one thousand years that will completely conquer the Milky Way.”

Xahs leaned back in his seat and shook his scaly head. “That is very troubling indeed. What are our available options to repair the damage?”

“We don’t know yet. It will be extremely difficult to ascertain, because the disruption’s subject also experienced a quantum displacement, and is no longer part of our reality. So far there is no indication that it will reenter our timeline at any point. Since we’re still uncertain about the exact cause of the disruption, we cannot rule out with certainty that the subject will return, causing even more changes to the timeline.”

The Gorn’s audibly sigh sounded more like a hiss, but less because of aggression and more because of concern. The Director looked up and focused Timot again. “I understand. For now, proceed according to emergency protocol. You are hereby granted the right to violate the Temporal Prime Directive, under authority of the Federation Temporal Agency, to restore the original timeline by any means necessary. Is that understood, Agent Danlen?”

The temporal agent nodded. “Yes Sir.”

Director Xahs also nodded, then closed the channel.

Timot let out a sigh and leaned against his desk. His mind was racing in his head, as he tried to organize the facts already available to him. Repairing this disruption would be an absolute headache. Their top priority would be to-

A sudden clap from behind him derailed his train of thought and made him jump around with a shocked gasp. Danlen stared for a second at the utterly surreal image before him. There was a middle-aged Caucasian man with somewhat scrubby short brown hair, wearing sunglasses and dressed in crimson red boardshorts and an almost painfully bright yellow aloha shirt ordained with the insignia of all known major interstellar powers, laying on a beach chair and applauding him.

The temporal agent’s expression soured. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”

“Oh, come on, Daniels! Don’t you recognize me?” The intruder playfully asked.

“No, I don’t. I’m certain we haven’t met before. And for you my name is Agent Danlen, not Daniels.”

“Oh well, Daniels. I really do like introducing myself. It’s always so interesting to see people’s first reactions.” The unknown man chuckled, then rose from the beach chair. He snapped his fingers and suddenly the beach chair and sunglasses were gone in a flash of light, and at the same time a Piña Colada appeared in his left hand. The stranger took a long sip from the cocktail, whose incredibly sweet scent started spreading through the office, and made a mock bow. “May I introduce myself. My name is Q. Also known as Q, or Q.”

Timot’s left eye twitched slightly. Twice. Of course, he had read about the mischievous endeavors of the entities collectively known as the Q Continuum, but he would have never expected to become their victim himself. He had always been glad that they seemed to prefer torturing and antagonizing starship captains instead of temporal agents. But apparently his luck had run out.

“Okay, Q… what do you want? I really don’t have time for your games.”

Agent Danlen had barely finished speaking when Q exploded into a hearty laughter. “Oh, stop it, Daniels! You humans are always so hilarious. Don’t you see the irony? A temporal agent, a time traveler, complaining about not having enough time.” He commented in his typical exaggerated intonation, still chuckling in between words.

But from one moment to the next, Q’s laughter died, and he became dead serious. “And you think this is a game? Oh, mon capitai… sorry, force of habit. Mon agent temporel! This is not a game, quite the contrary. I’m trying to save your quaint little Federation. Actually, the whole galaxy!”

“So, if you are that busy, why are you then here antagonizing me?”

Q snapped his fingers. With a blinding flash of light his drink was gone, and his apparel changed into a 31st century Fleet Admiral’s uniform. “I’m here to ensure you don’t ruin everything.”

“Ruin everything? I’m terribly sorry but I won’t have time to mess with your plot, whatever it might be. We have our hands full with trying to restore the timeline.” Timot replied, visibly agitated by now. The temporal agent closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

“I know.”

Danlen’s eyes blinked open. “What?”

“I said, I know. Because I did it.”

Suddenly Agent Danlen was right up in Q’s face, angrily shouting at the Q. “You what?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Of course!” Q replied, indignant about Timot’s accusation. “I’m Q, not some… limited human bumbling through spacetime barely knowing what it’s all about.”

“You’ve messed up everything! You’ve broken the Federation and guaranteed that the Kelvans will conquer the Milky Way. If that’s what you call, saving us, then please never ever help us again!”

Now Q took a deep breath and let out a frustrated sigh. “Now now, I didn’t mess things up. The quantum fissure that displaced the Sidereal was already there. I merely moved it to a more… useful… location. Anyway, your people have come such a long way, and still, even six centuries after Picard, I have to explain every little thing to you because you can’t put two and two together.”

He snapped with his fingers, and the temporal agent’s office had turned into a small, cramped, 19th century classroom. Q was wearing a Victorian era suit and stood in front of a massive chalkboard, while Danlen had been put sitting at the sole student’s desk. The blackboard was covered with temporal mechanics and shifting causality strands, that changed as Q continued talking.

“Good morning, class! Today’s lesson is: why Q was right in making the changes to the timeline, and why we should not try to revert them.”

Timot groaned in frustration while finding himself unable to rise from his chair. “This is preposterous, Q!”

“Au contraire, Daniels. If you think that restoring the timeline to what you call normal would save the Federation and prevent the Kelvans’ invasion, then you’re just as shortsighted and simpleminded as Picard was all those centuries ago.”

“We know it because we’ve seen it! I’ve been there when the USS Phaio delivered the Federation delegation to the Kelvan Empire! I’ve witnessed the first ship of Kelvan refugees landing on Turina Seti VI! There will be no invasion, there will be no war! But that only happens if the USS Sidereal is returned and the normal timeline restored!” Agent Danlen retorted, almost shouting again. He now completely understood Captain Picard’s frustration with Q, and why Commander Sisko had punched him.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about!” Q slammed his pointing stick down on Danlen’s desk. “You never try to understand why something is really happening! You always only try to get rid of the immediate symptoms and then call it a job well done, while the true origin of the problem is left to fester and grow in the dark.”

“What in damnation are you on about?”

“We can get to that with only a few simple questions. Why does Starfleet need the USS Phaio?”

The temporal agent sighed, but he had no other choice than to play Q’s silly game. “To send a diplomatic delegation to the Kelvan Empire in the Andromeda galaxy.”

“Very good! What is that delegation supposed to achieve?”

“Negotiating a peaceful coexistence and possible resettlement of parts of the Kelvan Empire to uninhabited worlds in the Milky Way.”

“Excellent! That’s already two out of five points. Why is that negotiation so important?”

Timot breathed deeply before answering. He absolutely hated this whole display, and that Q found it necessary to put up this charade instead of simply saying what he meant. “Because the Kelvan Empire is not used to coexistence, only conquest, and would otherwise send an invasion fleet to conquer our galaxy before resettlement.”

Q nodded in agreement and raised his right hand, showing three fingers. “Why does the Kelvan Empire want to resettle so desperately?”

“Because the radiation levels in their own galaxy are quickly changing and will approach levels making it inhospitable for them within less than 9,500 years.”

Four fingers raised. “Correct! We’re almost there. Only one question remains. What exactly is causing the change in radiation levels at this impossibly rapid speed?”

Agent Danlen blinked.

“Well?”

“… that is unknown. We suspect a naturally occurring cascade of radiogenic subspace particles causing a-”

“So, you don’t know. You guess. And that’s the problem. You assume that a sudden change in the environmental parameters of a whole galaxy that makes it inhospitable for the dominant power was a natural phenomenon. Tell me Daniels, have you ever possibly heard of something like that before? Just maybe?”

Timot stared at Q. “I… you mean… that’s impossible! There is no indication whatsoever that the Sphere Builders are involved.”

“Ah, you made the right connections. But no, I’m not talking about the Sphere Builders in this instance. I’m talking about something far, far worse. A threat more dangerous to the Federation now, than the Borg were 600 years ago. I think you know how woefully unprepared the Federation was for the Borg, and how much it cost you?”

The Agent nodded, his lips pressed into the thin line.

“This threat is a lurking shadow, hiding in the dark between the galaxies. They are old and patient, waiting for the right time to strike. They are cruel, vicious, and merciless. And they are coming for you.”

“Impossible. We’ve seen the timeline progress tens of thousands of years into the future. There is no such threat.”

“You can’t see them, because they are beyond the reach of space and time. Your technology is unable to detect them. But we have seen them. We have seen them consume whole stars, devour whole galaxies. They are responsible for the changes in the Andromeda galaxy. They will drive the Kelvans before them, destabilize the Milky Way, and then come to destroy you all.”

“Then why don’t you simply whisk them away to other end of the universe? I thought you Q were omnipotent.”

Q chuckled. “As much as it pains me to admit… we Q are not really omnipotent. We’re as close as anyone can ever hope to get to it, but there are still things that can challenge… or even threaten… us. And this threat is one of those things.”

Hearing Q’s words, Agent Danlen suddenly felt a shiver racing down his spine. An enemy posing a threat even to the Q? An enemy they cannot see coming, even with their temporal sensors? If Q spoke the truth, then this was terrifying news.

“You could provide us with your weapons, or better technolo-”

“I could, but what use would it be? Giving you Continuum weapons would be like handing a transphasic torpedo to a caveman. You’d only blow up yourselves or some star systems around you every time you try to figure out the right power settings. No, there is a different way. The USS Sidereal. Sina and her crew will make discoveries in a different reality that will eventually allow the Federation to withstand that threat. But they must be allowed to make those discoveries. You must not interfere! You must not restore the timeline, or you will doom this galaxy!”

Q held Danlen’s staring gaze for a few more seconds, then stepped back and snipped his fingers. He was gone in a flash of light and the office was back to normal, with Timot standing next to his desk as he was before. The temporal agent quickly looked around, making sure that Q was really gone before breathing a sigh of relief. But before he could conjure the comms interface on his desk, he heard one last message in Q’s echoing voice.

“Remember, do not interfere!”