The cavern seemed to breathe.
That was the first thought that crossed Corbin’s mind as the away team stepped farther into the vast chamber. The air felt heavier here, charged in a way that prickled against his skin and pressed gently, but persistently, against his thoughts. The spire loomed above them, impossibly smooth, its dark surface swallowing the light.
Carrilion was the first to move closer, her tricorder already active. She circled slowly, scanning the base of the structure, her usual warmth replaced by focused concentration.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Nelson turned toward her instantly. “Problem, doctor?”
“There is a lifeform inside the structure,” Carrilion said, her voice hushed, almost to avoid whatever it was from hearing her. “Deep within. It’s contained. Barely.”
Corbin felt the words more than he heard them. His hand tightened around the grip of his rifle.
“What kind of lifeform?” Rowal asked as he raised his rifle further.
Carrilion hesitated, then adjusted the tricorder’s display, isolating a complex pattern of readings that pulsed erratically. “It’s not something my tricorder recognises automatically. It’s comparing against the database. From what I can tell, the being is telepathic and has an extra-dimensional neural architecture. These readings suggest it’s ancient.”
She paused after her tricorder beeped again, then looked up at Corbin. “Sir, it’s Vezda.”
The name settled heavily in the cavern. The Starfleet officers all looked at one another.
“Vezda?” I’Hernis inquired. “Who are they?”
Before anyone could respond, Corbin’s combadge chirped. “Atlas to away team.”
“Go ahead, Reon” Corbin said after tapping his combadge.
Alkos’s voice came through clearly, steady despite the gravity beneath it. “Captain, we have a situation update. Whatever is occurring on Ivalis Two appears to have peaked. All known members of the Doctrine of Unseeing have collapsed simultaneously and are all unconscious. Medical teams are responding across the surface.”
Nelson exchanged a look with Corbin. “The neurogenic field’s changing.” She raised her tricorder higher toward the spire. “It’s increased in power.”
“We can confirm that from up here, too,” Alkos continued. “Additionally, Ivalan Union forces have successfully boarded the civilian freighters that were blockading the planet. They are all rendered inert without their crews to do anything with them. The Atlas is clear to enter orbit. No hostile vessels remain.”
“That’s good to hear,” Corbin said. “Reon, I need you to pull everything Starfleet has on the Vezda.”
There was a pause, then the Bajoran’s ops officer spoke. “Understood, sir. Give me a moment.” Another pause, and then he spoke up. “Captain, historical records indicate Captain Pike of the first U-S-S Enterprise encountered the Vezda in twenty-two-sixty-one. They were once an advanced civilisation. They’re extra-dimensional lifeforms capable of possessing humanoid bodies. Their empire spanned dozens, possibly hundreds, of worlds across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. We know that another unknown advanced species imprisoned most of them on Vadia Nine. Not much has been heard from them since.”
“Perhaps not all were imprisoned,” Nelson murmured, glancing at the spire. “Some may have escaped or were never rounded up.”
“Records suggest their telepathy was amplified by vast subspace constructs,” Alkos added. “They were known to be able to travel vast distances across interdimensional space. There’s a log entry from the Enterprise where their chief engineer describes them as pure evil.”
“Thanks, Reon,” Corbin said. “Stand by.”
The channel closed after the captain tapped his combadge. He looked at Nelson, and the two of them exchanged an expression of shared annoyance at the situation they now found themselves in.
“So our union has been invaded by evil interdimensional beings that want to do what exactly?” I’Timis asked aloud.
“Probably to conquer you all without firing a shot,” Rowal said grimly.
Ortega stepped forward now, scanning the spire with her own equipment, jaw set. “The structure is manipulating subspace. Not cleanly. It’s broken. Whatever containment system this place was built with, well, it’s failing. It appears to be centuries old.”
“Could we shut it down?” I’Hernis asked.
Ortega shook her head. “This technology is far ahead of anything we have. This interdimensional technology is on a level completely beyond ours. Not without knowing how it works; I wouldn’t want to guess where to start or whether there are any buttons to push. However, I can tell you that the neurogenic field is somehow piggybacking on subspace currents, riding them across the system. I imagine that’s how it reached the population.”
Rowal’s tone was even, pragmatic. “Then the solution is simple. Destroy the spire.”
Silence followed. None of them could disagree with that idea.
“The Atlas could do it from orbit,” Rowal continued. “One shot from our phaser banks should be enough to destroy the spire.”
Corbin stared up at the spire. Through his mind, he felt it now. It was faint, distant, like a presence just brushing the edge of his thoughts. Not hostile. Not welcoming.
That same thought from earlier came back. Dreaming.
“Are there any other options?” Corbin asked quietly.
Before anyone could answer, pain tore through the Betazoid captain.
It was sudden and overwhelming, like his mind had been yanked sideways. He gasped, dropping to one knee as white-hot pressure crushed his thoughts.
“Romen!” Nelson shouted out of fear and panic for her captain and friend.
The cavern then vanished from Corbin’s perception.
He was on the bridge of the Atlas.
Everything was wrong.
The lights were dimmed. The stars outside the viewscreen were static, frozen in place. The bridge was empty, except for Nelson, standing at the centre.
“Liz?” Corbin asked.
She turned toward him slowly.
Her eyes were gone.
Smooth, dark black holes covered the sockets, and she raised both hands to her face, as though ashamed. “Once,” she said, her voice layered with something else beneath it, “we were seen across the stars.”
Corbin took a step back. “You’re not her. You’re the Vezda in the Spire.”
“We were revered,” the Vezda continued through Nelson’s form, not confirming its identity with Corbin. “Feared. Our thoughts shaped worlds. The Shackleton Expanse trembled at our presence.”
“What happened to you?” Corbin demanded.
The bridge dissolved.
They stood now in Main Engineering, but it wasn’t right either. The warp core was dark. Silent.
Alkos stood beside it, hands covering his eyes and most of his face.
“You know what happened to us,” the Vezda said, wearing the Bajoran’s face. “You now see the echoes. The fragments.”
“I see the damage,” Corbin replied. “I see what you’re doing to the Ivalans.”
The Vezda tilted its head. “They were once part of our empire. They now see us. Through us, they glimpse what was lost. A truth beyond their fragile senses.”
“You’re hurting them,” Corbin said firmly. “And if you don’t stop, we will destroy what remains of this place.”
The Vezda laughed through Alkos. It was a sound like distant thunder. “You cannot command your ship while you are here.”
“That’s true,” Corbin admitted. “But you don’t know my first officer.”
The form flickered. “She would not—”
“Read my mind,” Corbin said. “See what her potential is. Liz wouldn’t let me or anyone else continue to suffer under your torture.”
The Vezda reached out into his mind, and Corbin gave up his memories of him and Liz easily.
The bridge, the battles, the quiet moments, the arguments, the trust forged over the years. Nelson standing her ground and making impossible calls. Choosing lives over sentiment.
The laughter from the Vezda as Alkos stopped.
“You would sacrifice yourself and everyone under my influence?” the Vezda said slowly as it lowered its hands.
“She would,” Corbin replied. “If it meant saving others. She knows it’s what I would do.”
The Vezda’s voice was now distant and strained. “Then I will leave this place. The pathways remain, for now. But know this, Betazoid. My kind remembers the Federation. We have not forgotten what was taken from us.”
The pressure vanished.
The cavern returned.
Corbin gasped, drawing in a sharp breath as reality snapped back into place. Everything swam into focus.
Nelson was kneeling beside him, one hand gripping his shoulder. “Romen, are you back with us?”
“I’m here,” he rasped as he sat up, and Carrilion started to scan him with her tricorder again.
Ortega looked up from her scanner. “The spire just went inert. Subspace fluctuations are collapsing.”
Carrilion checked her readings, relief flooding her expression. “The neurogenic field is gone.”
Nelson helped Corbin stand up. “What happened?”
He shook his head slowly, eyes fixed on the silent spire. “I’m not entirely sure.”
He met her gaze.
“But whatever was here is gone. The Ivalans are safe, for now.”
Nelson searched his face. “And us?”
Corbin exhaled. “We may have just reminded an old enemy that the Federation still exists.”
Above them, the ancient spire stood dark and empty, no longer dreaming.
But not forgotten.
USS Atlas (NCC-90805), in orbit of Ivalan Two
“Captain’s log supplemental. It would appear that our help in resolving this crisis with the Ivalans has gone a long way. They have agreed to open up formal diplomatic relations with the Federation. In the meantime, an update from Starfleet Command would indicate that we weren’t the only ones who had recently encountered the Vezda. Other ships in the Shackleton Expanse have reported similar situations. We have been ordered to return home for a proper debriefing. We are preparing to get underway and head back to Federation space.”
Corbin sat in his ready room behind his desk, quietly reading the report on his holographic display. The door chime went off.
“Come in,” Corbin answered.
Nelson stepped in after the doors hissed open. She casually walked over to him and handed him a PADD with a status report. “We’ve just left orbit and are at warp seven heading towards the transwarp conduit. We should arrive by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Great, thanks,” He replied as he took the device from her. “I know what you’re doing, Liz.”
“And you know I won’t leave here until we’ve spoken about it,” Nelson said as she took one of the free chairs opposite him.
Putting the PADD down on his desk and turning off the floating display before him, Corbin sighed. “Where shall I begin?”
“Just how bad could it be?”
“Really bad, Liz. Really bad.”
