“I think I’m going to throw up.”

The deck rose to meet her as the shuttlecraft began to buffet from the first turbulent effects of contact with the atmosphere.

“That would be a most inadvisable action to initiate whilst wearing the suit, Lieutenant Commander.” Sorvak’s phlegmatic voice carried over the comm channel, sounding slightly compressed, even as Samantha felt trapped & compressed within the intimate confines of the EVA Suit.

“Might I suggest that you allow the suit to administer a mild antiemetic.” The Vulcan added (somehow Sorvak seemed to be immune to the negative effects of the growing atmospheric turbulence as the shuttle screamed through the exosphere above the desert – planet and its fields began to bite into the thermosphere) “That should settle your stomach, whilst still maintaining the necessary focus to prepare for insertion.”

Sam’s gloved hand gripped the striped grab-handle affixed to the overhead of the bucking cabin, her knuckles whitening – even as her sweat was wicked away by the smart-lining and the suit’s environmental systems un-fogged her closed faceplate. A Heads – Up – Display projected key information on the inner-surface, but Sam’s eyes were screwed tightly shut.

This close – above the planetary surface, the powerful local – psionic effect was unsettling in the extreme, whether her eyes were open and closed – a kaleidoscope of nightmarish images flowing unbidden across her minds – eye.

Samantha Hyland focused on keeping the contents of her last meal, where she had last left them.

“Sorry about that, hey?” Came the confident voice of Ensign Jan De – Vries.

Whilst the USS Sacramento’s Security Chief was not able to join the Away Team, Jan had insisted on flying the shuttlecraft to ensure that the team got to their jump – point safely. Nothing seemed to deter the man from protecting his people.

“Adjusting inertial dampeners to compensate.” The young South – African muttered as his hands flowed over the shuttle’s controls. “There’s significant ionic interference in the upper atmosphere – even from this altitude, the ride’s only going to get bumpier from here on in folks.”

Jan looked up from his instruments briefly enough to nod towards the gathering storms in their path.

“That’s probably not helping much either.” He remarked dryly, as he struggled to keep the “Maidu” level and on course.

Outside in the cold expanse of orbital space, a howling – line of blinding blue energy intersected from the surface of Primar – Majoris #7, stabbing through the churning cloud base left in its wake and bathing the remaining Subspace communications hub in a corona of impossible energies.

 __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

USS Sacramento

Bridge

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:44 Hrs (Planetary Local Time)

 

“Shuttlecraft “Maidu” has departed Shuttlebay -2 and has begun its descent to the upper – atmosphere of the planet Captain.” Lt Commander Vodrova reported crisply from the Operations Board, as she covered the role left vacant by Lieutenant Sorvak.

“Very good Number One.” Commander Nathan Allen nodded and turned his attention to the strange tableau unfolding on the viewscreen in space ahead.

Tens of meters across, a vast column of searing blue energy flowed in a constant stream from the planet below into the heavens. Even when viewed through a digitized processor and reconstituted onscreen – the intensity of the energetic discharge was such that Nate had to fight down the urge to shield his eyes from the glare.

A flash of hooded figures, undeniably Primarion by their stature, hems of their robes whipping in the desert winds, standing within the great circle of the Reliquary, the stonework looking somehow younger – bathed in a gentle blue light……..

Nate shook his head in irritation – these psychic flashes a persistent and unwelcome distraction.

“Science – report.” Nate turned to where Dr Duval’s attention was wrapped around her instrumentation.

“The energetic effect is remaining constant Captain.” The Science Officer reported, her voice calm and businesslike. “The energy-yield is stable at 100 billions of billion Giga Electron – Volts (1020> GeV) across all wavelengths – flooding subspace with its signal. Point of origin confirmed as the central arena of the Reliquary of Ost, in the Equatorial desert zone.”

“And it’s still focused on the Array?” Nathan sat forward in the captain’s chair, his fist steepling his broad – chin as he attempted to fathom the depths of the outlandish event unfolding in space before his ship.

“To the extent that the hub is the Line – of – Site of the beam’s apogee, Captain.” A note of interest in Cerine’s voice now, “but the computer extrapolates that the trajectory of the beam follows a linear plane that carries beyond the planet and out of the local system sir.”

That was significant.

“It’s terminator?” Nate enquired.

“Difficult to confirm with any degree of certainty given the parameters we have to work with currently, but the signal terminus is most likely somewhere beyond the Gamma Quadrant.”

Nathan Allen turned his chair to face the Chief Science Officer.

“Seriously?” His face incredulous.

“Oui D’accord – sérieusement.” Cerine confirmed.

“That’s one hell of a long – distance call.” Commander Allen turned back to the screen.

“Helm – plot an orbital intercept course for the final – hub.” Nate straightened his tunic. Somewhere along the way, his mission of “Give some aliens a lift home, land a Federation Science team on the planet below and unify the Primarion and Federation with the simple installation of a Sub-space communication net”, had descended into total disarray.

“Aye Sir. Plotting course to intercept. ETA, two minutes.” Ensign O’Mara confirmed, her eyes intent on her board, but they too darting up to glance nervously at the howling anomaly before them.

The Primarion Gerontocracy seemed to be on the verge of open warfare by seeking the destruction of the USS Sacramento, all contact with the Federation Science team led by Dr Jonas Hyland had been lost (with no conclusive life-signs possible to confirm due to the atmospheric interference) and now Nate was poised to destroy the symbol of peace and friendship embodied in the last physical remnant of the Subspace Communications Array – that was supposed to bring their peoples together.

With a heavy heart, Nate ordered.

“TAC – plot a firing solution on the Orbital Array, all phasers and maximum torpedo spread – once we destroy the Hub, that should remove the danger of the anomaly being broadcast further endangering any more of the Primarion people.”

“Aye Captain.” J’hvohuk confirmed and began to bring the weapons – systems online.

“CAPTAIN!” The XO’s voice came urgently, “Sensors confirm three vessels coming out of warp on our rear starboard beam. Confirmation – Two Antia – Class Primarion Interdiction Frigates supporting a Gonath – Class Patrol Cruiser, Captain. All show signs of recent battle damage – they are most likely remnants of the Blockade that we engaged around Primarion Prime.”

Commander Nathan Allen swore inwardly but retained an outer veneer of calm command.

~ We have to give the Away Team more time. ~ Nate thought urgently.

“COMMS.”  Nate turned to the rating that sat at the position that Sam normally occupied, “Open a channel to the lead ship of the Primarion……”

“They’re opening fire Captain!” Lt Commander Vodrova’s voice sang out in warning.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

GNV Patrol Cruiser “Varshana”

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Bridge,

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:48 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

Captain F’Raal frowned at his tactical display, which was still functioning only intermittently – despite the best efforts of his crew to restore the Varshana to a state approaching “Fighting – Fit.” Irritated, the V’Saal Officer banged the unit with his fist. As with all repairs to precision equipment attempted with blunt – trauma, the unit in his armrest went blank and ceased working.

“SCAN, REPORT!” F’Raal barked – his temper already frayed by his recent terse exchange with the Grand Gentarch and receiving orders that were tantamount to a suicide mission.

Not enough that he had to go up against an alien vessel with a far superior technological parity, but that he had to do so with only a handful of ships, all battle – damaged and in various states of repair and space unworthiness – seemed, to the Captain, to heap insult onto considerable injury.

“We have the Starfleet Vessel on scope Captain.” Sub-Altern J’suun reported. Despite her injuries, it gave Captain F’Raal great pride to see his young Sensor – Officer act with such purpose and dedication to her duties. “It is on an intercept course for the satellite array Sir.”

~Destroying the last evidence of their crimes ~ F’Raal recalled the Grand Gentarch Verlan accusing.

“Steersman. Lay in an intercept course, best speed possible.” Whilst F’Raal had his doubts about his current assignment, the men and women of his own family had all served in the Gerontocracy Navy for their short – lives, going back centuries – he was damned if he would be the first of his line to shirk his duty and disobey a direct order.

No matter how pointless the sacrifice may seem.

As the stricken ship came around (with an obvious shudder that could be felt through the deck plates of the bridge), Sub-Altern J’suun reported again.

“Captain, it appears that the Alien vessel has launched a Smallcraft.” J’suun grimaced as she adjusted a field dressing that covered her forehead and one eye. “It appears to be making planetfall – destination most likely within the equatorial zone.” The Sub-Altern confirmed.

“Rat’s leaving the sinking ship.” Captain F’Raal glowered, “Operations Officer dispatch the Frigate Orta to intercept and destroy that shuttle – with prejudice. Tell the “Dzanan” to remain with us and target the Main Ship.”

No reply came from Altern R’uhul – who seemed to be distracted. At first Captain F’Raal worried that the officer was suffering from concussion, but then he himself was hit by a powerful, but brief Psychic vision of ….

…The Callers, standing on a dune – line, under the scorching twin suns. Their powerful Bass – clarion song reverberating, filling his ears – he could feel the burning sands, rough against his skin…….

Captain F’Raal shook the vision away.

“Belay that last, Operations.” F’Raal growled, “I’ll send it myself.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Type-9 Shuttlecraft – “Maidu”

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:49 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

“Sorvak, I’m not sure I can do this.” Sam worried over the comm – channel as her gloved hands checked the seals on the Vulcan’s suit. Satisfied all was in order, she slapped his shoulder and turned so that the Vulcan OPS Chief could perform the same pre-jump safety checks.

“Suit’s good.” She added.

“It is imperative that we make the insertion, in order to ascertain if there are any survivor and confirm to the USS Sacramento an accurate reconnaissance of conditions at ground – zero, if our mission is to stand any chance of success Lieutenant Commander.” Sorvak droned in her ear as his practiced hands checked her seals. “Any trepidation that you may be feeling, with the consideration that your father is…”

Sam shook her helmeted head sharply and replied with a growing sense of panic growing in the pit of her stomach.

“No, I mean THIS!” Sam raised her suited arms frantically, as if in explanation.

“Your suit is secure. Your service jacket indicates that you completed the requisite Extra Vehicular Activity training module at the Academy, Commander.” Sorvak sent.

Samantha Hyland (who HATED heights at the best of times) turned to face the taciturn Vulcan Officer, her eyes wide behind the layers supra-annealed synthetic diamond- leaf, as HUD data scrolled across the faceplate.

“Were coming up on the insertion point, one minute to drop.” Jan’s voice reported as a force-field shimmered into life between the cockpit and the Away Team, and the life support system began to void the rearward space of the Type-9 Shuttlecraft of breathable atmosphere and pressure.

“I did a basic EVA course sure!” Sam’s voice had a waiver of hysteria present, “But nothing to prepare me for this …. this…insane secret squirrel SHIT!” She laughed nervously, trying desperately to quell her panic about what they were about to do.

Sorvak pursed his lips behind his own faceplate and raised a quizzical eyebrow in thought.

“There was not time available to indoctrinate you in HAZARD Team training Commander.” Sorak reasoned, obviously aware of Sam’s distress, but 100 percent mission focused. “Fortunately, this eventuality has been accounted for. I, myself, have conducted several High – Level Orbital Insertion Jumps during the Dominion War and have undergone extensive HAZARD team – training. For the duration of our descent, your suit will be “Waldo’d” to my own – I will pilot your suit as well as my own.”

“Whal – Whatnow?” Sam sent.

Lieutenant Sorvak keyed a function on his own HUD with an eye motion and raised his arm and flexed his armored fingers.

With a subtle whine of internal servos, Samantha Hyland felt her mirror arm rise without her own volition and her own fingers wave back, the suit’s movements mimicking that of Sorvak’s own.

“That’s……actually quite cool.” Sam smiled nervously, distracted by the novelty of the effect.

“Quite so…” Sorvak Nodded calmly as he keyed the hatch and the great ochre – brown expanse of Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit stretched out below the hatchway and Sam felt like vomiting all over again – despite the drugs the suit’s AutoMed unit was feeding her bloodstream.

“If you like, you can key the faceplate to opaque and request that the suit plays you something soothing on the way down. That may lessen the distress associated with your vertigo.”  Sorvak replied with inevitable logic and dispassion.

Sam was about to do just that and was walking in slow, marionette tandem with Sorvak toward the Hatchway, when the “Maidu” was suddenly & violently rocked by scorching weapons – fire.

__________________________________________________________________________________

USS Sacramento

Bridge

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:50 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 One of the escorting Gerontocracy vessels has fired upon the shuttlecraft “Maidu” Captain.” Aleksandra reported with concern as the USS Sacramento itself shuddered from the combined fire of the pursuing Primarion ships “Varshana” and “Dzanan”.

Nate’s heart skipped a beat. His people, at risk. His orders. It never got easier.

“Status of the “Maidu” Number one?” Nate’s voice did not betray his inner turmoil.

“She’s taken substantial damage to her impulse drive Captain and is struggling to maintain orbit.” The XO reported. “The Away Team has exited the Shuttlecraft and are in free-fall.”

Nate thanked the gods of small mercies and commanded.

“Tell Jan he’s out of the fight. He’s ordered to land on the surface a safe distance from the effects of the Reliquary and await extraction along with the Away Team.”

“Sending now Captain.” The XO confirmed confidently.

Commander Allen nodded. Some part of him unsure that that there would be an extraction at this rate – the odds were decidedly not stacked in their favour and there was no knowing what Sorvak and Samantha would encounter- if they survived long enough to make a landing at the Reliquary of Ost.

The odds were narrowing by the moment.

“Captain, permission to engage the pursuing Primarion vessels and return fire.” Ensign J’hvohuk requested, evidently eager to level the playing field once more.

“Negative TAC.” Nate shook his head, “Our primary target has to be the array – if we don’t take it offline – the amplified effect from the anomaly still has the potential to kill millions. We’ll deal with our pursuers, if and when we take that emitter down for good.”

“Engineering.” Nate opened a channel “Lieutenant Ryu – I don’t care where you find it, but you have to give me more power to the shields…..”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 Away Team

Primar – Majoris #7 – Orbital Interface

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:51 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 Like sycamore seeds spiraling in a wild autumn – breeze, two tiny figures fell spinning through the climactic clash of roiling clouds – punctuated by lethal stabs of sheet lightning, continents – wide, that briefly lit up the confusion of cloud in bright, staccato suggestions.

These images were seared in Samantha Hyland’s eyelids as she plummeted through the storm.

Encapsulated and cosseted in the relatively – safe confines of her Starfleet EVA suit, Sam tried to focus on the Heads – Up – Display and not the terrifying hurtling vista of cloud rushing by immediately outside. She had had no time to key in the commands that Sorvak had suggested, had no time to register that the Type-9 Shuttle had been hit by hostile fire, before the “Maidu” suddenly became a wheeling pinprick disappearing rapidly above her – venting warp -plasma from a damaged nacelle – gone in an instant.

Samantha Hyland tried to remember her training, steadying her breathing and focused on the most immediate problems.

A small blue icon on her faceplate was Sorvak, some 900 meters below and to the starboard of her position (marked in an orange icon). Glowing – green telemetry curves and data feeds scrolling to chart their passage from orbit to planetary surface, at speeds in excess of terminal – velocity, that Sam tried desperately to ignore.

A great congregation, massed in concentric rings around a great blue edifice, kneeling as supplicants – a feeling of devotion, of veneration, of awe….

The nauseating magnitude of the visions now – their visceral tug upon her consciousness into times long passed, to feel and witness events involving persons long dead – was becoming more irresistible the closer the pair fell toward the distant Reliquary below.

Sam wondered if Sorvak, who was (literally) steering both of their fates, truly was as immune to the effect as she was obviously susceptible.

If that was the case, it would be a hard landing indeed.

Suddenly, a quickly as they had entered, Sam was suddenly clear of the storm clouds. Thin rivulets of condensation quickly running off her faceplate as they were born away by the slipstream of air they rode.

Another whine of servos, as Sorak activated trim – vanes on the exterior of their suits. Control surfaces extending and adding a finer degree of aerodynamic control as their headlong plummet towards the distance desert – floor curving kilometers below, began to transition into a steep (but gradually shallowing) glide path.

Samantha Hyland could make out Sorvak as a tiny black speck, picked out by the HUD with vector lines linking them both and describing the glide – path with curving isometric lines.

Leading them towards the distant monument nestled deep in the Great Ost Desert.

“Oh my God.” Sam whispered, as the suit automatically magnified the forward view of their approaching destination.

“Sorvak, are you seeing this?”

The ancient Reliquary of Ost, sacred site of the Primarion people, place where the collective memories of an entire race were stored, the place where legends say the Primarion once communed with The Provider, the beautiful architectural edifice of stone and dreams that had stood against the fury of the desert and the ravages of time itself – was gone.

In its place, an impossible maelstrom of swirling sands, broken masonry and detritus – swirling kilometers high in a tornado of perfect destruction. At its core the vast – howling beam of blue energy lancing towards the very sky.

Sam’s mind raced and her heart sank as they approached the fury in the heart of the desert.

There was no way that her father, that anyone or anything could have survived the violent energies now focused on the former site of the reliquary.

It was like the Hand of God had reached down and wiped the desert clean.

“Affirmative Commander.” Sorak replied, shaking Sam out of her reverie.

“It appears the energetic effect has effectively destroyed the Reliquary proper – however, I have pinpointed a fluctuation of energy exactly 11.03 meters from the epicenter of the effect and what I believe to be a faint lifeform reading. I propose to make our landing at this point as it indicates the best chance of success for our mission…..if not our own survival.” Came Sorvak’s voice, as calm and unperturbed as ever.

“Are you INSANE?” Sam quavered, even as she felt her suit respond to Sorvak’s directions and change direction. “There are winds in there that must be at least in excess of 425 km/h at 49 m above ground level – that’s the equivalent of jumping into an F-5 Tornado – let alone one that has chunks of masonry and debris flying around in it, some the size of a Type-15 Shuttle! We’ll be torn to pieces!”

“The question of sanity is erroneous Commander.” Sorvak assured her as their suits suddenly banked sharply upwards as they approached the whirling wall of destruction and slowed dramatically, teetering on the edge of atmospheric stall.

“The eye of the storm is travelling significantly slower than that of the perimeter circumference.” Sorvak intoned as if he was delivering a lecture on meteorology to a class at the Academy. “I have calculated the optimum trajectory to take us down between that and the outer effects of the energy beam being transmitted by the anomaly.”

Samantha Hyland’s eyes widened in horror. The pair had slowed to a near stop at the very summit of the great tornado of debris, the howling blue column of energy so close now that the suit visor had darkened on that side to near – black – and still the glare was akin to looking directly into the light of the Sun.

“You cannot be serious.” Sam whispered in shock as her stomach roiled, momentarily weightlessness for the peak second before gravity took its toll.

“Commander Hyland.” Came Sorvak’s level reply “When have you ever known me to be otherwise?”

They fell into the heart of the storm.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

USS Sacramento

Bridge

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:53 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

“The Subspace Array is destroyed Captain.” J’hvohuk reported – the satisfaction evident in the voice of the young Klingon – hybrid Officer’s voice, even as Commander Nathan Allen watched the destruction of the last vestige of their efforts to unify the United Federation of Planets and the Primarion Gerontocracy together in open discourse and understanding.

To Ensign J’hvohuk it was a target destroyed. The imperative of the Warrior was met. A job well done.

To Commander Allen it was a flame of diplomacy being snuffed out in the darkness. Mute testament to the failure of peace and understanding.

“Very good Ensign.” Nate commented sadly, “HELM, bring us about to present our less damaged Aft Starboard Beam to hostile fire. TAC – rotate our shield harmonics to cover that quadrant. We’ve got to buy the Away Team as long as we can to…..”

Commander Nathan Allen realized he had no idea what the Away Team would encounter and what they could realistically be expected to achieve when they reached what was left of the Reliquary – but at least the intense Psychic visions seemed to have been negated with the destruction of the Subspace Array hub in orbit – the device no longer amplifying the terrible Psionic effect through populated space.

“Commander!” Cerine’s voice sounded from her station. “The Anomaly has ceased!!!”

Commander Allen turned to the viewscreen – where the vast blue pillar of energy had dominated the view ahead, there was suddenly nothing. All of that terrifying discharge of energy – just gone. The cloud base below, no longer being agitated by the unnatural quantum of energy, was starting to recede – revealing the desert planet below once more.

Nathan stared in awe and wonder – so many things in this Galaxy their science could unlock – yet so many mysteries – so akin to magic- that they might never be understood.

He was shaken violently from this preponderance as the bridge rang out with vicious detonations and the damage alert claxon began to sound.

“OPS! REPORT!” Allen barked.

“Torpedo’s Commander.” Lieutenant Vodrova reported tersely, “Came at us where our port sensors are blind sir. We have hull breaches on decks 7 through 9. Damage reported to the Engineering section. Lieutenant Ryu has evacuated the main engineering section – multiple casualties reported.”

The XO looked serious as she confirmed.

“The third vessel, the Frigate that engaged the “Maidu” has stolen a march on us.”

“DAMMIT!” Command Allen roared and slammed an impotent fist on the armrest of the Command Chair. “HELM! Evasive maneuvers, Allen – Ceta – Seven – One. ENGAGE! NOW!”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Away Team

The ruins of the Reliquary of Ost

Primar – Majoris #7

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:55 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

Lieutenant Command Samantha Hyland was resigned to the inevitability of her imminent death.

Some part of Sam’s mind that was not paralyzed in terror, grieved this fact – but found solace that she would be dying in the same place that her father had. Another part dimly registered the similarities of this passing, with that of her mother – so many long years ago.

Hopeless courage, defiant in the face of a no – win situation.

Her very own Kobayashi- Maru.

Fleeting impressions of chaos and movement. Sand obscuring and scouring her faceplate – blasting the diamond – hard surface opaque with a swarm of ablation – so intense that even the suit’s Lidar was defeated. A sickening, lurching feeling as something truly massive tore past her in the darkness of the screaming storm, her suit jinking automatically to avoid her being reduced instantly to paste. Everywhere the dust storm back-lit a ghostly blue by the screaming column of blue energy – obscured at the center of its fury.

Then her boots touched down – hard, servos screaming throughout the suit and damage warnings warbling urgently in her eyes.

Sam closed her eyes – sure this was the moment of her death.

Then a hand was shaking her.

Utter quiet abounded – where seconds before there was only cacophony.

Sam opened her eyes – the view from her helmet milky & total obscured – sandblasted opaque by the scouring desert sands.

Tentative fingers unlocked the suit’s neck seals and she drew off the damaged helmet.

Hot desert sun hit her face, instantly drying the sweat and the face of Lt Sorvak looked down upon her.

“Commander – are you injured?” Sorvak, had removed his own helmet (similarly damaged) and his bald – headed, narrow face was peering down at her, with the twin suns of Primar – Majoris #7 – the Night – Sister and the Day – Brother – filling the clear sky above him.

“I’m…..alive?” Sam managed.

“Clearly.” Sorvak rose and flipped open his tricorder. “The energetic effect from the phenomena seems to have abated.” The Vulcan observed. “One may hypothesize a causal link between the cessation of the effect and the destruction of the Subspace Hub. It appears that the USS Sacramento has succeeded in executing its portion of the Mission – objectives.”

Samantha Allen looked around herself, slowly rising to her feet.

“Well – let’s see if we can’t do our part then?” Sam assured herself, her legs still uncertain.

Every trace of the Reliquary of Ost was gone.

 It was if the desert itself had risen up and scoured the great architectural edifice from existence (not quite – great chunks of masonry – now free from the powerful winds of the tornado – could be seen falling to the desert floor in exploding patterns of impacting sand – thrown up some kilometers in the distance.) leaving in it’s place a vast, glowing, crystalline structure protruding from the sands – tens of meters across.

A warm blue glow seemed to pulse from the crenelated crystal surface from which they stood. Sam removed her suit gloves, breaking the seals and discarding them as she crouched down and touched the surface with her bare hands.

“It’s cold.” She wondered aloud – this revelation incongruous, despite the burning desert heat.

“Commander Hyland?” Came Sorvak’s calm voice from behind. The Vulcan had his back to her and had detached the probe from the side of his Tricorder and was running it over something she couldn’t quite see from where she stood. “Will you please join me? I appear to have found your father.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

GNV Patrol Cruiser “Varshana”

Primar – Majoris #7 Orbit

Bridge,

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:57 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

“Captain.” Sub-Altern J’suun reported as the GNV – Varshana focused her fire on the Starfleet Vessel, along with that of the GNV – Orta and GNV – Dzanan. “The enemy vessel’s shields are failing.” The Primarion Scan – Officer reported smoothly, “The last salvo from the Orta appears to have disabled their Warp Core – they are going nowhere Sir.”

Captain F’Raal smiled grimly.

Whilst he took no personal pleasure in the destruction of the alien – craft, he was immensely proud of the professionalism that his crew and that which the escorts had demonstrated in the short engagement and took a certain professional pride in the successful execution of his orders.

Orders were orders, after all, at the end of the day.

“Weapons.” F’Raal commanded, “Instruct the Orta and Dzanan to hold fire and maintain position. Tell our own ordinance crews to load an alpha – strike. Full torpedo spread – hold and prepare to fire on my mark.”

“Yes Captain.”

“COMMS – open me a secure channel to the High Command.” He nodded to his communications officer.

Soon, the Grand Gentarch’s wizened features filled the damaged main – viewer and Verlan greeted, “Captain F’Raal – I take it that you have good news for me?” The Autocrat smiled thinly.

Captain F’Raal nodded perfunctorily and straightened his uniform tunic reflexively.

“Affirmative, Grand Gentarch.” The V’Saal Naval Officer nodded somberly. “Whilst the Federation Vessel managed to destroy the remaining component of their weapon, we have crippled the USS Sacramento, and it only remains to land the killing blow – I thought that you may wish to issue that order?”

Verlan looked positively overjoyed at this prospect.

“Quite so Captain, quite so. “The duplicitous Grand Gentarch crowed smugly. “I must say that, after some initial doubts concerning your earlier performance, this final outcome is most exemplary Captain. My commendations to both you and to your crews.”

F’Raal switched the viewer to a forward view, so that Verlan could enjoy his ghoulish coup – de – grace.

There in space, limping along on impulse – the scarred hull of the heavily -damaged California – Class Starfleet vessel – was an obvious and defenseless target.

“Destroy them.” The Grand Gentarch ordered simply and dismissively.

Captain Ferland nodded to his Weapons Officer, who confirmed “All Torpedo’s away.”

The cruiser juddered as the torpedo’s left their launch tubes and began accelerating towards their prey.

Suddenly a white blur filled the viewscreen as the shuttlecraft “Maidu” tore across the path of the Torpedo’s as they issued forth from the Varshana.

Ensign Jan De- Vries’ triumphant South – African voice echoed stridently out of the bridge speakers – the Zulu War-cry “IZULU LELAMADODA*!!!!” (*The Sky of the Men) as the warheads slammed into the Type-9 and detonated prematurely – catching the Primarion Cruiser square in the reflected effect of their massed detonation – all but tearing the front off the Primarion craft with furious force.

Of the shuttle there was no trace left.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Away Team

The ruins of the Reliquary of Ost

Primar – Majoris #7

Stardate: 2401.6.14

17:59 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

“Oh Daddy, please no….” Lieutenant Commander Samantha Hyland whimpered in a small, lost voice – as her hand caressed the thinning hair on the back of her father’s head.

That it was Jonas Hyland, there was no doubt – Sorvak’s scans had confirmed that much.

It was also obvious that her father was beyond saving – only his shoulders and the back of his head were visible – the remainder of his body seemed to have merged with the gently growing blue crystal – or rather the crystal substrate had accreted around him (and as Sorvak had confirmed neutrally – grown through him) – the living crystal penetrating and melding with the famous Xeno – Archaeologist at a cellular level.

The man that she had known and loved as her father was now forever merged with the source of the Anomaly.

Of course, she had raged desperately and reasoned futilely – could they try to cut him out with hand phasers?

Not without killing him.

Could a transporter lock free him from entombment?

The pattern enhancers could not tell where Jonas began and the Crystal Entity ended.

That was what Sorvak postulated the artifact actually was – his Tricorder readings seemed to indicate alpha wave emissions emanating between both the crystal substrate and what remained of the man who raised her after her mother had died.

Readings contiguous with the flow and transfer of neuronic energy – conscious thought.

Sam felt numb.

All she could do was stoke his hair and cry.

She felt Sorvak’s hand on her shoulder and the Vulcan said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

“Commander, it is time…..Are you ready?”

Samantha’s fingers lingered on her father’s scalp and he nodded.

Lieutenant Sorvak reached down and placed his hands on her face just so, intoning:

“My mind to Your mind, My thoughts to Your thoughts…”

__________________________________________________________________________________

The Emissary.

 

Sam opened her eyes and looked at her hands.

They were small and (Inevitably) covered in blue poster – paint.

The smell of grilled cheese filled her nose and part of her wanted to cry.

Outside the small, oblong lozenge of window, a ray – trace of stars streamed past as the Galaxy – class USS Venture made her way purposefully to her next adventure.

“Sammie !” Called her father’s voice jovially, from the tiny kitchen that served their quarters, “Wash up now Hon! Dinner’s nearly ready!!”

Samantha closed her eyes and tears ran down her face – a deep shard of loss and sorrow aching deep in her heart.

Jonas Hyland entered the small, but cozy living room, drying his hands and smiled warmly as he looked down at his 8 – year old daughter.

“Well, what passes for dinner when the replicators are down at any rate.” Jonas shrugged and looked down at the picture she had been painting in broad, enthusiastic strokes.

“That’s a lot of Blue, even for a Bolian.” Her father observed with mock seriousness, “Although I’m not 100% sure it goes well with the rug.” He winked and a small servo – cleaner robot issued forth from its hiding place beneath the sideboard and commenced an attempt to remove the errant paint splats from the carpet.

Her eyes still tightly closed. Sam said simply.

“Stop.”

“Beg pardon?” Jonas cocked his head to one side, just like he usually did when he was confused.

Her voice, sounding small and distant – repeated.

“Please – just stop this.” Her small shoulders shook as she suppressed a sob.

When Sam looked up – the starfield beyond the USS Venture’s viewport had frozen, she looked down and found herself to be her normal adult self.

She looked up to her father. Jonas stood there, just as before – but where his eyes should be were twin pools of glowing blue crystal.

“Apologies Samantha.” Jonas spoke softly, his voice still the same. “It senses your distress and seeks to comfort you with something it thinks you would find familiar.” Her father sounded apologetic at this, almost abashed.

Sam wiped away her tears and stood to face him – her mind reeling with a thousand questions – but one most prevalent in her mind.

“Daddy?” She tried to steady her voice. “Are you dead?”

The thing that was Jonas Hyland now (and the furthest thing from the man he had been) looked puzzled for a moment – as if he was pondering a great mystery or listening to another voice repeat an answer.

“That is….difficult to answer.” Jonas said regretfully. “In some ways, you could say that I have….become or am becoming.” He shrugged as if that was answer enough.

“What is this thing?” She demanded, angry at the way her father’s image was being used in this manner.

“Ah!” Her father clapped his hands together (just like he did when teaching class and a student joined him in epiphany) “On that subject we are on firmer ground.”

The cabin of the USS Venture melted away – seeming to come apart like wax under a blowtorch – decks and superstructure flowing away to be lost in the cold vacuum of space.

Samantha found herself standing with her father on what seemed to be a vast, dark crystal landscape, pock – marked with craters from eons of numerous comet strikes – a vivid cold corona of frozen ejecta venting eternally off into space in its wake – telling her that she stood on the back of something impossibly vast as it transcribed its way through the empty places between stars.

Sam caught her breath at the suddenness of the transition – the sheer….Alienness…. of the experience.

Jonas stood before her, spreading his arms wide in welcome and smiled a small, sad smile.

“This is The Traveller.” His voice sounded hollow against the vacuum of space. “It has been since the beginning of the Universe, making its inevitable way from Galaxy to Galaxy since the very birth of the cosmos on its endless trek through the stars. It will continue on its travels long after the Galaxies drift so far apart – that their light will not be seen again.”

Samantha Hyland looked around her in amazement. To experience such a thing was beyond revelation  – the very dream of discovery that had set her upon her path to Starfleet, eclipsed in a moment.

“But this thing is……massive?” Sam looked down at the vast, frozen crystal landscape that stretched out from dark horizon to dark horizon.

“This isn’t….can’t be the same thing that is on Primar – Majoris #7 ?” She reasoned.

As if in answer, the very surface beneath her feet shuddered massively and far in the distance, a massive shard broke away from the surface of The Traveller and began to move slowly away on a tangential course – a deep glow emanating from its core that soon went dark as it drifted away.

Her father crossed his arms – his strange crystal eyes seeming to look straight through her.

“As from the mouths of babes…” He nodded, “Always were a quick study, weren’t you Sammie?” The thing that looked like Jonas Hyland gestured downwards to the surface – where a corresponding warm glow seemed to suffuse – kilometres deep beneath their feet.

“Life as a Gigalethine Crystal Entity ain’t all it’s cracked up to be….” Jonas smiled, but Samantha was evidently in no mood for bad Dad – Jokes from Eons – old aliens, so he pressed on. “To be short – it can be bloody boring as hell to be honest –  so sometimes it likes to make…..well….I guess you could call them “Children”, for want of a better word.”

And with that, they were both standing on the departing shard instead and she felt time itself compress and the Galaxy around them seemed to flow past at breakneck speed.

“Like most kids, these little rascals roam as they will, doing as their whims dictate – playing with the great chemistry set of life for millennia at a time, sometimes with the predictable outcomes that one might expect when placing such power in the hands of what is, ostensibly, an immense child with near – god like powers.”

Jonas shrugged apologetically again as if to say “Kids…What can you do?”

And with that they were both stood on a rising dune, buffeted by scorching desert winds.

“We’re back on Primar – Majoris #7 !!!” Sam exclaimed with a start.

“In reality we never really left.” Jonas dismissed her airily with a shake of his hand.. “But pay attention Sammie  – the next bit’s really  important and it doesn’t want you to miss a thing.”

They stood in the Great Ost desert. It was unmistakable and the sensation was so visceral – so REAL.

Samantha recognised the familiar strata of the mesa that surrounded the Reliquary of Ost – but could see from the lack of weathering & erosion in the stratigraphy, that they were witnessing an event that had occurred far in the planet’s past.

Where the Reliquary would one day stand, the vast crystal entity hung like an upside – down frozen tear drop, suspended massively over the desert floor, towering over thousands of tiny figures eclipsed in the shadow of its bulk.

“Are those the…..”she began as she walked down the dune towards them, rivers of sand flowing where her footsteps marred the perfect sail of sands.

“The Primarion yes.” Jonas confirmed knowingly as he followed her down.

She turned to The Emissary, the realisation growing within her.

“The Entity is the being that the Primarion worship as “The Provider”.” Samantha Hyland breathed in sudden revelation.

“Flowery terms for a novel experiment in developmental evolution, but technically accurate I suppose – it did create both races – making them similar in most ways – but different in one crucial other. A duality designed with the specific intent to make one dependant upon the other – with both races tied to a shared fate but destined to experience them from a totally different worldview.”

Samantha could see the distinctive pink and grey hued skin tones of beings that would one day become the B’Queth and V’Saal.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Jonas allowed diffidently.

She stopped and turned angrily to confront the being that masqueraded as her father.

“But you…It… consigned one race to the oppression, exploitation and subjugation of the other!” Sam shouted angrily, her eyes flaring at the injustice of it all.

 “The B’Queth took their longevity and ensured that the brief life of the V’Saal would know no freedom without dominion. What kind of being does that for FUN!” She screamed and punched her father in the chest, hard.

Jonas looked at his daughter with gimlet eyes and said simply.

“Well, we all make mistakes.”

“MISTAKES!” Sam screamed and launched herself at Jonas again, but suddenly found she could not move.

The thing that was speaking through her father sighed tiredly and turned her to face the supplicant worshipers once again.

“Let me explain.” He said tiredly and before her very eyes, time seemed to accelerate – the twin suns wheeling faster and faster through the sky above, as the passage of centuries flowed by.

As Sam watched, the Reliquary of Ost began to be birthed.

The great crystal entity sank gradually beneath the sands. At first a tent city of worshipers grew around its bulk, becoming a shanty town as supplicants braved the arduous journey across the burning sands to ask their questions of their living god.

As the centuries wore on and the desert flowed like a granular sea, the entity was swallowed beneath the sands and the structure that Sam was more familiar with as the Reliquary proper began to be built by successive generations – The Provider no longer communing directly with its people, but speaking to them through visions – becoming deified, then idolised, then forgotten to superstition and time.

“We created those that you call the B’Queth to be the Shepherds of the Quick.” Jonas spoke dreamily as time marched exorably onward, in fast – forward, before them – the strobing twin suns now a smooth arc – a blur in the sky.

“I don’t understand.” Sam managed.

Jonas looked sadly at her and spoke.

“Our…..your own people are very much like the quick, like those you call the V’Saal. So brightly do you burn in the short time allotted to you. Such innovation you bring to the great song of creation, even for the single note that you sing.” Jonas looked genuinely affectionate, but sad now.

Samantha’s brows knotted as she struggled with the implications.

“You’re saying that you…. The Entity…Provider…. whatever.” Sam shook her head, “Created the V’Saal to be the primary race, to be looked over by the B’Queth as their…what….Custodians?”

Jonas smiled sadly and spread his hands wide in answer – but said nothing.

“Wait!” Sam cocked her head (just like her father used to) and pondered aloud. “Something obviously went wrong, somewhere in their history – the B’Queth subverted this plan and used their longevity to create the foundations of a Gerontocracy – using the extended lifespan you afforded them as conservators and twisted it into an endless dictatorship.”

She looked at the Entity/Emissary.

“But how did the V’Saal let this happen?”

The passage of time slowed and stopped – Lieutenant Commander Samantha Hyland was surprised to recognize the vast curving tryptic wall of hieroglyphs that spanned the inner – half of the great inner circle of the Reliquary – the ancient story wall that Jonas had been so intently studying when this all began a few short days ago.

“The ancestors of those you call the B’Queth attempted to subvert their role in history by raising a false edifice of stone above where we slumbered.” Jonas – not – Jonas gestured to the carved stone glyphs and stone statues around them. “They sought to idolatrize the truth through such means – but the truth that came from the visions all shared – my dreams are a song that cannot be changed.”

As Jonas spoke – a group of B’Queth busied themselves around an ancient – looking, but obviously effective, industrial laser and Sam watched in horror as the beam cut deeply into the crystal below the stones, blackening and marring the substrate – before bricking the damage up with masonry.

She turned to Jonas – realization clear in her eyes now.

“The B’Queth sabotaged that memory, your memory. That’s why the Psionic visions at the Reliquary are so fragmented, so chaotic. They covered up the truth by leaving it in plain sight and by banning entry to the V’Saal ensured that their crime would pass from living memory in just a few of the V’Saal’s short generations – The Shepards became the Wolves.”

Jonas looked pleased and nodded sagely .

“So now you understand.”

Sam nodded sadly, it all made perfect sense – but the sheer horror of it all confounded her. The implication that one race would go to such lengths to take a gift so beautiful – a responsibility so solemn and then perform such a base – betrayal, all to ensure generations of genetic hegemony and suffering.

To her 24th century sensibilities – it was beyond barbaric.

“And when the Subspace Communications Array was activated….”

“It awoke me from my long slumber.” Jonas smiled. “Now it is time for me to return home to MY parent and tell it of all that I have learned.”

“No! Wait !’ Sam grabbed his arm. “ You can’t leave!” She implored.

“I must, as you can see I have righted my wrongs. The balance is redressed” Jonas’s crystal eyes betrayed no emotion. “The Gigalethine Crystal Entity is so very far away now – it will take many of your lifetimes for me to return home.”

“But no one will believe me!” Samantha protested, “I’m not even sure that I would believe me! You need to stay; you need to share this truth and help free the V’Saal people!”

Jonas turned to her, his voice sounding more like she remembered it now.

“But we have Sammie.” He took her hand and she felt every moment of her time together with him rush through her in an impossible rush of sadness and joy.

A lifetime lived and loved in a frozen moment.

“The dream we have just shared together has been shared with every living being in the Primarion System as we dreamed it together Sammie, B’Queth and V’Saal alike.” Jonas nodded and took his hand from hers gently.

“That is my final parting gift to my children and now it’s time to go……”

“But you can’t go Daddy….” Samantha felt a deep mourning in her soul. “I’m your child too. You can’t leave me all alone – you’ll be alone yourself…..please….”

Jonas took her face in her hands, despite his strange crystal eyes, she could tell that this was the man that had loved her with all he had, when they had lost her mother, the man who had watched her grow and then grow apart as she left to join Starfleet and explore the Galaxy – the man that was leaving on a journey of his own now.

“You’re not alone Sammie, none of us truly are.” The Entity spoke kindly. “You have Starfleet, they raised us both in our own ways and they will always be there for you.”

He wiped tears from her face and stroked her hair lovingly, just like he used to when she was little and afraid of the dark.

“I’ve lived a good long-life Sammie, and something tells me that it’s about to get a whole lot more interesting – the scientist in me is quite excited if I’m being honest. Just think, All Tomorrow’s Yesterdays are mine to have now, from now until the end of time.” Jonas Hyland winked.

Sam laughed, despite her grief – that familiar turn of phrase from her childhood – taking on a whole new dimension of meaning and import – suddenly she was glad for him.

“I love you, Daddy.” Sam smiled a small smile.

Jonas squeezed her hand, one last time and spoke.

“I will love you for eternity. Now, it’s time to wake from the dream Sammie – things are about to get a whole lot more interesting from here on in and it’s best that we were both on our way.”

 __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Away Team

Surface of the Entity

Primar – Majoris #7 (Near Orbit)

Stardate: 2401.6.14

18:00 Hrs. (Planetary Local Time)

 

“Wake up Commander.” Sorvak’s voice seemed to come from a great distance and Samantha wanted nothing better than to ignore it, she didn’t want to leave.

Lieutenant Sorvak jammed the Hypospray into Samantha Hyland’s exposed neck, above the collar of her EVA suit and Sam pivoted violently upright as a significant dose of Adrenaline coursed through her system.

She tried to take a deep, whooping breath but found she could not. She clung desperately to Sorvak.

They were still on the upper surface of the Crystaline Entity, riding the shard as it ascended through the rapidly thinning tissue of atmosphere, the curvature of Primar – Majoris #7 easily discernible as the planet receded slowly below them.

It was bitterly, impossibly cold.

“Welcome back Lieutenant Commander Hyland.” Sorvak intoned with some difficulty. “I apologize, but I had to resort to some more conventional measures to bring you out of the mind – meld – the nature of the link was quite…intense.” The bald – headed Vulcan permitted.

“The Entity!” Sam gasped urgently as they both rose into space on the back of a God.

“I saw what you saw Samantha – as I believe did many others, but this is hardly the time or place to discuss such matters.” Sorvak managed to wheeze with customary understatement and opened a comm – channel.

“Sorvak to the USS Sacramento – Two to beam directly to sickbay.”